My little sister thinks I’m just like a character out of Sex in the City, based on the fact that I’m a writer. Apparently she thinks I drink a lot of martinis, write when the mood strikes me and generally have quite the glamorous life. I may have snorted the water I was drinking out my nose when she described what she thought I did all day. I’m neither glamorous or particularly graceful.
Most days, I thoroughly enjoy my work. But I have a hard time getting the fact that it is work across to certain friends and family. I don’t make all of my income from one casual weekly column — and don’t ask me how Carrie Bradshaw can live on the income that one newspaper column provides. I don’t go to fancy parties, bars, fashion shows or even anywhere outside of my office most days.
There are a few moments that my choice of careers has felt pretty glamorous. I’ve gotten to interview best-selling authors, meet several of my heroes and even be recognized in public on the basis of the little photo that runs with my bio. All that does balance out the days where I wind up pounding on the keyboard for hour after hour.
I’ve tried to explain this to my sister, along with every new acquaintance who says, “A writer? Really? That’s so cool!” Sometimes I get the point across. Sometimes I’m left with someone thinking that I’m more glamorous than I really am. And I have to admit, I don’t mind have a job that’s more glamorous than I am.
Have you run into this issue? Has television (or anything else) colored the opinions of what people think you do all day?