Don’t Date a Writer

A friend of mine once told me “the best advice for dating a writer is, of course, to avoid dating a writer at all costs.”

When I first heard this, I was a budding journalism student, ready to crush my millennial dream of touring with local alternative pop-rock bands and writing about how much (or how little) dope they were smoking. Spoiler alert: that didn’t happen and I’m pretty thankful for where I ended up. 

You see, writers are portrayed as these romantic, soft-spoken, dynamic, creative, fearless word warriors – and we are! But we’re not without fault. We’re usually in the kitchen or on the floor petting your dog at parties. We’re emotional rollercoasters. We drink cheap wine. And most importantly? If we care about you, you’re going to be immortalized in print.

“You can’t date a writer and remain the same. They will break you, mold you, stretch you, and evoke the best in you” – Newton Paul. 

The thing about writers is that they draw on the experience of the former to work on the latter. If you become part of a writer’s life, you may very well end up in their work. Shoutout to every boyfriend I’ve ever had, every stranger on the bus and every Starbucks barista who wished me a good day. You’re in my journal (or somewhere in the notes app on my iPhone).

Before you go dating a writer, come prepared with the proper tool kit: get a friend to hug you, or hand you a bottle of brandy and a straw along with the card of a local therapist. If you’re ready to take the plunge and date a writer, remember the following:

 Everything you say in bed is going to show up in a poem.” —Saeed Jones. 

If it doesn’t end up in a poem, it’ll end up on a sticky note on the back of the writer’s mind. 

Size matters. Writers like it BIG. We are, obviously, referencing your vocabulary which if used correctly, can seduce us in so many unimaginable ways.

Writers are forgetful, but we remember everything. We forget appointments and anniversaries, but we’ll remember how you smelled on the first date. 

Remember that us writing about you might make you uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. But learn to embrace it.

You give us the material that gives us life.

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