Let's Be Honest

Since I began writing fiction, I've heard some version of this, over and over:

"If I couldn't write, I'D DIE."

Well.

Okay, maybe some evil genius has wired you to your laptop, and if you don't generate at least 1,000 words an hour, you and your laptop are toast.

Maybe. Also, you should have seen that coming.

Otherwise, let's be honest: none of us would die if we couldn't write -- or act, or sing, or dance, or paint, or make dream-catchers out of pipe-cleaners.

That's right, I said it: pipe-cleaner dream-catchers.

But seriously, if I stopped writing right now, I would live. I'd miss writing, to be sure, but my heart would keep beating, and my head would remain intact.

Why does this particular ultimatum chap? Maybe I have a different perspective because I'm relatively new to writing. Maybe I enjoy my non-writing life more than other writers. Maybe it's my aversion to hysterical dramatics.

At any rate, I can say with certainty I've never heard a grant writer say she'd die if she couldn't write another grant proposal. :)

Anybody else get a laugh at some over-the-top writerly claims?

[image via Tombstone Builder]
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