LABOR DAY

SPECIAL LINK FOR FLOOD RELIEF

Hoping for the best for all affected by the storms in Houston and other towns.


LABOR DAY WEEKEND COMING UP — put away your whites!


Digging a ditch, 1937. Joe Minichino could have been there.

Labor Day always reminds me of a talk I gave at a local business meeting. The group of about fifteen work at various jobs: banking, real estate, small business, and consulting are the ones I know of. It was a breakfast meeting at 7 in the morning, before most work days began.

I’d talked to them before and they were receptive as usual to my topics: the writing process, the state of publishing as I experience it. One woman in particular always asked when my classes were since “some day” she wants to write a book.

On this one particular day, people stayed around after my talk and then, one by one they left, uttering some variation of “I wish I were a writer, but I have to go to work now.”

Can you hear my groan?

To my parents, who had six or seven years of school between them, anyone who dressed up before they left the house in the morning was not really working. I understood that—and I’ve always been able to see the difference between my father’s kind of work—heavy construction labor—and my kind of work.

But I don’t expect to hear remarks like that from professionals. How can an educated person think it’s not some measure of work to write two books a year, for example, or even a half a book a year?

The last woman out the door of that meeting said, “Once I don’t have to work, I’m going to write a book, too.”

“Good luck with that,” I said.

Too wise**s?

 

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2 Responses to “LABOR DAY”

  1. Camille says:

    Oh, yes, I have that conversation often!

  2. Linda says:

    Years ago I heard a writer say that he had to explain to his wife that even when he was looking out a window, he was writing. It’s the mental part that is writing, not the typing part.