Creative — yes. Shorter — no. I was not being facetious, I swear it. I went long-winded trying to show that brevity is the soul of wit, or rather that “writer” is on point, on fleek, the absolute best word to capture the true essence of moi. Pretentious? Absolutely! Since I don’t have a best seller under my belt, my name is neither Stephen King nor Richard Bachman (🤓😉) but I did put it before the moniker of mom. Now that, sir, is boring. The only thing more stultifying is a great-paying, super prestigious CAREER of homemaker. I know, I know, every little boy & girl & hermaphrodite wants to grow up to be either an astronaut or a hausfrau!
I’m not complaining! I turn on the faucet & get clean water! I vote in every election — even school board (it’s cutthroat out there!!) & I’m a woman! I can own property, I know how to drive & own a car! I am very aware of my advantages, as an immigrant, a woman & a Jew in the 21st century in America!
But what I cannot do, apparently, is NOT be VERBOSE. (That was a wickedly awkward sentence.) Because here is the crux — the actual truth, a burried lead: any other description I would use would be a euphemism for “writer,” an approximation of the real thing, an almost truth. Like “passing” & “late” when I mean “dead.”
I’m not a “searcher for Truth, Justice & the American way.” I am not an “accidental tourist here, on purpose.” I am not “on a mission from god.” I am just a tiny, insignificant, not at all famous, not at all rich, not published, (if you don’t count a couple of newspapers) not even represented by an agent, but honest writer. Well, honest some of the time. But writer every day, my hand to sky.