A
IN
ORDER TO MAKE a living while
also pursuing the arts, I feel
it’s best to aim low. Being a
writer, I myself cobble together a liv-
ing from multiple, mostly unimpres-
sive sources.
One: I work part time at a commu-
nity center, where I’m paid a modest
wage to unlock the building on Satur-
days for toddler ballet, shred papers for
the office staff, read the newspaper,
and add up attendance numbers. I also
pass on comments from patrons to my
supervisor, such as: “There’s a bee’s
nest under that metal thingy that holds
the basketball hoop.” Or: “We don’t like
these toddler dance classes to start so
early. We like to sleep in on Saturdays.”
Two: I work a few hours a week for a
pair of old people, who honestly value
my ability to change their light bulbs,
pick up the screws or sticky notes or
puzzle pieces they’ve dropped on the
floor and can’t reach, find their missing
coffee cups, fix the wheels on their
walkers, and paint over the scuff marks
where their walkers bonk into their
walls. These bonk marks are especially
noticeable on outside corners.
Three: I married a guy who is willing
to work. I didn’t choose him consciously
for this quality – my memory is that I
was attracted to his wit, his kindness,
and his ability to perfectly impersonate
Momma from Throw Momma from the
Train. Unconsciously, however, I proba-
bly noticed his work ethic.
Four: I write. I’ve been paid for
writing exactly once, but this was so
exciting that I photocopied the check
and framed it. I have a couple of near
allowed to read it. Yes, that check was
the real thing.
You will notice that none of these
sources of income are particularly
good for my ego – though every one of
them has turned out to be a first-rate
source of writing material.YESTERDAY, A SUNDAY, I worked a shift
at the community center, “supervising”
a birthday party rental, which means
unlocking the door, disarming the
security, and helping the renters locate
a power strip – a task at which I failed.
Once the party realized I was of no use
to them, I got to work entering last sea-
son’s class evaluation questionnaires
into Survey Monkey. The questions:
What class did you take? Was your
experience very satisfactory, satisfac-
tory, neutral, unsatisfactory, or very
unsatisfactory? Would you recommend
your instructor? Please explain.
The answers to these questions are
helpful to the staff but are not terribly
interesting to a writer. For the question
What class did you take?, the answers
are things like Belly Dancing, Hip Hop
for Tots, or Urban Homesteading.
Mostly our respondents loved their
instructor, who was “very encouraging
to beginners,” and mostly their experi-
ence was very satisfactory, often with
stars and exclamation points.
Among this batch of not very inter-
esting questions, however, there is one
with potential: Are there other classes
you would like to see offered at our
community center? Sometimes our
patrons only want more Zumba or
believe they would enjoy Swing Dance
for Seniors. Some people want to learn
how to make cheese or homebrew.
Some tell us that everything is great
exactly how it is, in case we needed a
little reassurance. But sometimes a
patron will suggest something genu-
inely interesting. Like yesterday, when
I came across the suggestion that we
offer a class on how to fall down.relatives with whom I cannot share this
success because the piece of writing for
which I was paid will get me disowned,
but I secretly hope that one day they’ll
spot the framed check and grill me
about it. I will then be forced to confess
that yes, I am a published author. Yes, I
did get paid for it. No, you are not4 | The Writer • November 2019