Why write?

I neglected to explain the random writing piece from a while back, "The Application." Perhaps I should.

I wrote it for a class, called (strangely) "Dangerous Words" and the prompt was to write a letter of application. The professor is pretty funny in the way he "assigns" things, and this was the first assignment (he calls them "5 finger exercises, as we're not supposed to spend a ton of time on them, and they should be short enough to read aloud in class). He basically said:

"Write a letter of application. For the class. As if I were going to select you based on the letter to be in the class. Which I won't, of course. But I will. So it's a letter of application. But you've made a mistake of some kind. In your letter, you are applying to something else. Like to be a slave working on the pyramids. Or something. So you've made a mistake. And you are applying. Okay?"

Ooookay.

So I came up with the idea of applying to be a scapegoat because I had recently dreamed a really wretched but cathartic dream about being made a scapegoat by my lovely and charming parental units (Portland contingent). It was originally much longer, with specific examples of my stellar skills as a bleeting heart (bwah ha ha, sorry, couldn't resist).

Anyway, that's what that's all about.

Now here's another assignment. Dashed off and unedited. In list format (we talk a lot about formats... this could have been an obituary or a letter to god, or Dear Abbey, or a want ad or any one of a million methods of delivery).

Why be a writer? Why write?

Top 10 Reasons To Write:

10) For truth. To get to the bottom of things, peel back the layers, find the ugly and the pretty. Or the nothingness, if that's what yields.

9) To lie. There's usually a nicer looking truth out there somewhere, an alternate ending.

8) To mortify and/or make proud a family of narcissists*, whose crowded stages scarcely leave room to register a speaking part, let alone a punchline.

7) For closure. To bury the myriad hatchets that have been slugged around for decades.

6) For revenge. Against those hatchet-throwers whose bloodied blades will never be granted burial.

5) For freedom. Free to embrace crazy like an accessory, instead of an illness, and live a stimulating life of euphoric highs and cavernous lows in the constant peaks and troughs of The Artist's thought waves.

4) To make trouble. As truth-tellers so often seem to. IF they are at all good at what they do.

3) To get better and better (hopefully) instead of just older and older.

2) To matter. Because we will all die one day.

1) To self-satisfy. Because it feels good to write. A singular, self-directed, pleasurable activity. Like masturbation. Or yoga.

And of course the follow up to this, again from the Prof: What do we avoid by writing, being a writer? (He said it a little fancier than that, and with a more ominous tone).

Top 10 Things to Avoid by Choosing Writing as a Career:

10) Mind-numbing day jobs and slippery corporate ladders.

9) The wretched and painful requirements that come along with having to answer to a higher-up boss type person on a daily basis.

8) Having to get dressed everyday.

7) Legitimacy in society as a "productive member" of same.

6) The boredom of a steady paycheck.

5) Health insurance and any illusion of security.

4) Predictability and the ability to plan for anything, ever.

3) Responsibilities of so-called "adulthood."

2) Expectation.

1) Human interaction.

Next up: How do I want to die?

Not looking forward to that one, I must admit.

Very truly yours,
Ass-in-Chair Amby

*No, not YOU. Of course not you.

The Application.

Dear Sir or Madam,

Though you have not yet advertised a current opening for the very important position that I am proposing to fill, I am certain that you will eventually have need of someone in this timeless role. I would like you to consider that – as history has proven - it is better to have but not need someone in this capacity, than to find yourself in need and not have a stand-in readily available.

I'm sure we can agree that it is terribly inconvenient to find yourself with acute blame on your hands. Perhaps for some action (or possibly inaction as often happens to be the case) that could have been avoided with better tools, or forethought, but lacking these, responsibility seems - quite unexpectedly - to be heading squarely for your shoulders. I must tell you: There is no need for you to accept blame or responsibility for any of your actions (or inactions) under any circumstances, ever. Even if it was your very finger on the proverbial button that brought everything crashing down around you, this was surely not your intended outcome. Therefor, why should you jeopardize your reputation, your standing in the community, your own self-conception of who you are and what you are about, in order to bear the burden of the resulting consequence? It is never truly your fault, it must never be so -- and that is where I come in.

I am strong: I can hold at least ten times my weight in the heavy, the irksome, the burdensome responsibility of bad choices and missteps (that, of course, you never intended to make) and I can do so without breaking a sweat, as I am in no way an insubstantial girl. Plus, I used to swim, and not to boast, but Atlas has nothing on these shoulders.

I am loyal - to a fault, perhaps - compassionate, idealistic, hopeful. No matter how many times betrayed, I am able to survive, dragging along with me the certainty that absolutely nothing that has occurred is anyone's fault but my own, and that next time, next time the outcome will most certainly be different. Some say I am naive, but I know I am fierce, tenacious, unfaltering.

I would carry your mistakes, your lies, your ropes of broken promises, to my very grave. I am to blame. Period. It is a truth I know in my heart of hearts, always. I would die again and again, never letting go, to see my commitment through, to carry your troubles to the bitterest of ends. I don't know the meaning of the word quit and I don't have the sense God gave me to shrink back from pain, to protect myself...

Look no further, I am your perfect Scapegoat.

Not only am I strong and thick-skinned, I am Jewish and as you may know, my people invented the very concept of strapping all the guilt, the blame, the terrible sins of the community to a lowly goat and sending it off into the wilderness or over a cliff in a ritual renewal during Yom Kippur (but why wait for atonement, absolution, until the High Holy Days, I say?). Also, I was born to a teenage mother, conceived, she once said, in order to save her life. So let me be very clear: you will not find a candidate for this job more bound to others and to this earth by the twin leather straps of guilt and responsibility, anywhere on the planet.

I would consider it an honor to bear your grievances, carry your burdens as my own, walk through each day wrapped in conflicts not of my creation. I hope you will see that I am an excellent candidate and I urge you to consider me for the position. You will not regret it (nor anything else, ever again).