A tentative blog to test the temperature. |
Résumé I was thinking today about the things we writers get up to while waiting to become real writers. Steven (currently known as s) was a wrestler for a time, I’m told. It would be a fair bet that not many other members of WDC have been wrestlers. And I dare say that some of my former occupations would not be shared by others in the group (is that a fair description of what WDC is?). Some would, of course. In the interests of full disclosure, here’s a list, in chronological order, of the roles I have assumed in the past: A legal clerk in the civil service A legal clerk in a bank A machinist in a car factory A supermarket manager (which means that I’ve done all the other jobs in a supermarket - it’s the way Kwiksave managers are trained) A courier A painter and decorator A church administrator A teacher of teenagers expelled from school Those were the paid positions. The unpaid ones are just as numerous: A hippy (for about a week in 1967) A freak (that’s what my generation called themselves around the time of Woodstock) A wannabe great artist A wannabe great writer (poet or novelist, I didn’t care) A model maker (slot cars) A virtuoso on the Jew’s harp An aficianado of F1 motor racing A crabby old man I maintain that they amount to a fair qualification for the title of writer. At least it means I have something to write about. Whether it’s interesting or not is entirely another matter. Word count: 258 |