Rant! (Une hommage du M. Ellison)

You're at a party. The hors d'oeuvres are tasty, the drinks are strong, the people are pretty. You're talking to this one guest and you find out she's a doctor. So you roll up your pants leg and ask her about your rash.

Kidding!
Of course you don't do that.
Because you're cool.

You also don't ask the attorney how to sue your neighbor and his yapping dog, or the teacher if that was really his first job choice. It's basic etiquette; and for the most part, I'm glad to say I travel in circles where it's understood. Alas, if you (like me) publish a blog, are signed up to a dating site, or are introduced around as a writer, you will occasionally encounter people who just don't get it. For the benefit of those people - and anyone who interacts socially with professional writers - here are some things you don't say to a writer.

1. I might steal that line. I get paid to write good lines, most recently by the president of a prestigious university that shall remain nameless. So the fact that you like my line enough to repeat it, take credit for its wit, and pay me nothing is not a compliment. Your good opinion isn't worth $400 an hour, internet stranger.

2. I'd write myself, but I don't have the time. Why not make the time? If you've never written anything, take a month off and write something. Anything: play, story, novel, soup can label. Whatever. Go for it.

3. I've got a blockbuster story idea. You write it on spec and we'll split the profits. I encountered this one a lot when I lived in Los Angeles. LA is full of people with the Next Great Idea. Mostly, they hang out at Starbucks.

I've got good ideas of my own. Coming up with ideas is the fun part. The hard part is sitting my ass down in a chair for hours at a stretch, fleshing them out, and ditching the ones that don't work. That hard part is a significant chunk of my limited time on this earth.

If you ask me to turn your idea into a novel or a screenplay, you're asking me to do the heavy lifting for a project that [no matter what you say] may never see the light of day. Since that's the case...pay me, up front.

5. That's a sweet life, sitting in your PJs, doing what you want. Try it for six months. Then tell it to Ernest Hemingway, John Kennedy Toole, Virginia Woolf, David Foster Wallace- Oh, wait. They killed themselves.

6. Can I get a copy of your book? Sure. It's available on Amazon, my website, Butler Library. Unless you mean, will I give you a free copy because you've met me in person? No.

7. Your book was great. I downloaded it from Tor/BitTorrent/PirateBay/ SleazyRussia.com. This statement is often accompanied by a hand outstretched for a shake. It's perplexing. You stole my book. Do you think we're going to be friends because you liked what you stole?