|I'm a Writer.|
This is from a flash witing challenge and is reprinted in full on this blog.
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Every day, I get up and I look in the mirror, and I say, "My name is Chris, and I'm a writer. Today's the day, baby! I'm gonna be famous." As you can see, I don't just talk to myself; I lie to myself.
Yeah, well today, I quit. Writing, not lying.
Here's why. The last line of my editor's letter said, "Make it more heartwarming, and it'll sell."
Heartwarming? I'll give him heartwarming! How many hours did I sit here, at his suggestion no less, staring at the screen, trying to come up with ways to increase action? Okay, so now you've got your slam-bam action. There's a crisis on every page. And he wants "heartwarming."
I'm an action writer. Heartburn is more like it.
My hero's a player, smart, in great shape, face and body like one of those models from New York. He can do anything. Problem is, he's all mouth. You know the type. Knows everything, and makes sure you hear about it. Here's one of his lines. "I'm so much more intelligent than most of my friends that they don't seem to like me. Apparently, they have ego problems."
How do you make a guy like that heartwarming?
He's a spy. Carries an arsenal in his pants, in more ways than one. Kills for a living. Crude and rude. Think Dirty Harry meets James Bond. What does this editor want, Dirty Harry meets Love Story? Cute little warm fuzzies all over the place? My poor hero would puke.
I can see it now: "Love means never having to say I'm Bond. James Bond."
My friends would laugh themselves silly. Hmmm. Wait a second. What if I made it a comedy? I could do comedy. Dirty Harry meets Love Story... I could call it "Dirty Love Story." Yeah... I kind of like that. Maybe the hero's got a thing for love stories. Reads women's erotica on the sly, to find out what women really want in bed. Yeah! That could work. That's heartwarming, isn't it?
I gotta go find a pen. Today's the day, baby! I'm gonna be famous.