I’m finally a writer.
To be clear, I’m not a writer yet at the time of writing, but I’ll be one as soon as this gets into the hands of someone other than myself. It’s been a little over two years since I quit my last job and started writing full-time, and I never thought I would be enjoying this as much as I do. I no longer have to endure the long and uncomfortable commute to work, or pander to annoying clients during work dinners, or pretend that I actually give a shit about my “worsening” work performance. Most importantly, I no longer have to be bossed around by a complete ass-licking loser whose only goal in life seems to be doing everything exactly as the boss wants.
Just as I expected, my wife was supportive of my decision to quit when I first suggested it. She always thought that the hours were too long and the compensation too little. Once, when I got home at a ridiculously late hour on a Tuesday evening, I distinctly remembered her saying to me, “It’s a miracle you’ve stayed so long.” She went straight to bed after saying that.
Come to think of it, even though I had given almost a third of my life to the company, it seemed very unlikely — impossible even — that I would get promoted anytime soon. I highly suspect that my spineless manager knew about my bitter feelings towards him and has therefore been actively preventing me from jeopardising his position.
My wife is an intelligent woman — much more intelligent than myself — and I value her opinions very much. Also, since she runs a moderately successful marketing agency, finances would not be a big issue even if I quit my job. Now that I’m thinking about it again, I believe my wife had an ulterior motive when she encouraged me to quit. Ever since we got married, she has been asking me to quit and work for her, but marketing has never been my kind of thing despite my knack for writing. Every time I see words related to marketing, my brain immediately switches off. I guess I’m just not a good salesman in general, which basically means I’m not a good fit for this capitalist society in general.
So here I am, a writer-to-be attempting to make a living off a skill that no one really cares about. Sure, you could argue that there are many people out there who read books, but compared to the number of people who don’t, the figure is just pitiful. And that’s still only if you’re a “world-famous writer”.
If you ask me, there’s no such thing as a “world-famous writer”. The fact stands that the number of people who do not read books far exceeds the number of people who do, and therefore, logic dictates that the title “world-famous writer” cannot exist. What’s more, if you only count the number of people who actually buy the books written by a “world famous writer”, the figure becomes even more depressing. Hence, simple reasoning tells us that being a writer is not a money-making profession.
Now, you’re probably asking me in your head, “Why write at all?”. Excellent question. To that I do not have a clear answer, but I suppose there is a sense of pride in being a writer; that “writing as an end in itself” kind of elusive and otherworldly feeling, a sense of pride that is not measured by any material gain except by itself. In a way, writing is just like an act of charity — both the benefactor and beneficiary are one and the same. As much as the writing is meant for others, it is also meant for the writer himself. No writer writes solely for others.
Of course, my opinion is strictly mine and mine alone, and none of you should be compelled to agree with me. Even my wife does not agree with me sometimes, which I wholeheartedly respect. People around me have always expressed their “sympathies” towards my marrying someone more intelligent than myself, but I have absolutely no qualms with listening to my wife. After all, if a capable woman chose me to spend her life with despite having much better choices, I should be proud of myself for being the chosen one. It’s just like when you get called on in class by the teacher. It’s only because she thinks you know the answer.
After 8 years of marriage, I’m not sure if I’m getting close to the answer. I hope this book is.
This book is dedicated to…
my ex-manager, for showing me the door;
my wife, for her unconditional love and support;
and to you, my reader –
Thank you for choosing me.
