(I posted this one morning in a manic fit of sardonic frustration)
The life of a writer is so full of focus and self-centeredness; and now it’s come home to roost. My wife of 30 years, in an apparent wave of nostalgia and boredom, has begun an e-mail ‘affair’ with an old boyfriend from her college days named ‘Gregg’. Imagine my shock – but being the kind of resilient writer type I am, and in a fevered attempt to re-kindle our romance, I suggested we collaborate on a steamy novel (tentatively titled) ‘Fifty Shades Of Gregg’. I am currently writing by flashlight in my freezing garage on my son’s borrowed laptop. My question is to the group: How do I resolve this conflict and still keep Gregg and his Fifty Shades a viable concept?
(I really can’t help it – I think this sort of cynical practical jokerism skipped a generation as I understand my grammy was quite a card in public situations.) The Moral? Never join a Writer’s Group populated with Romance Writers with no sense of humor.