Occasionally, if I'm drunk or not concentrating, I
do what I did recently - on being asked, "What do you do?" I
realized, too late, that I'd blurted out, "I'm a writer".
"Ooh, how interesting," my companion
exclaimed, "what have you written?" Um...endless lists of stuff I've
got to do, a couple of complaints to the Council and a few letters to the local
paper. Somehow I didn't think that would impress her. I knew I should have
prepared my 'elevator pitch' months ago. {Translation: convince someone you
meet in a lift to buy your book, before they reach their floor. Or before
they have to pretend that they've reached their floor.}
But how do you sum up 108,000 words in 108
seconds? Especially when what you've written doesn't fall neatly into any
particular genre. Why didn't I just write an adventure mystery set on a
parallel world? That would have been easy to describe. Or a
coming-of-age comedy? Or a tale of love and friendship in a training
college for spies? Why, in the name of all that's unconventional, did I
choose to combine all three with the underlying themes of choice and
identity? More to the point, why didn't I just give the woman my card and
say, "My first book will be out later this year, but do read my blog if
you're interested; it'll give you an idea of my style"? Because I
panicked, that's why, and because I hate being the centre of attention.
So I just burbled something inane and changed the subject.
I usually respond to the "what do you do"
question by saying I work in a doctors' office, which enables everyone to start
talking about their health. If I'm feeling particularly intimidated by
the company I'm in, I might admit to having been a teacher, and say that I
changed my job in order to do something less stressful. {Pause for
ironic laughter.}
But why do we define ourselves, and others, by what
we do for a living? Particularly when so many people are
unemployed, or have little choice about their work. I think that,
instead, we should open conversations with something like, "What's your
favourite season?" or, "If you could be an animal for an hour, what
would you be?" Classless questions, with no right or wrong answers,
that actually tell you something about the person rather than the circumstances
in which they currently find themselves.
