Valentine's Day & The Writer's Marriage

One of my all-time favorite ever single-panel cartoons was published nearly forty years ago, in the 8/8/1970 issue of The New Yorker. It's by the legendary George Booth (well, legendary to New Yorker readers, anyway), and it shows a rather scruffy-looking guy sitting on the porch of a house, leaning on a typewriter, with a most amazing expression on his face and a woman standing next to him, holding a plate upon which is a sandwich. The woman is saying:

"I've got an idea for a story: Gus and Ethel live on Long Island, on the North Shore. He works sixteen hours a day writing fiction. Ethel never goes out, never does anything except fix Gus sandwiches and in the end she becomes a nympho-lesbo-killer-whore. Here’s your sandwich."

If you want to see a blurry and watermarked thumbnail of the cartoon, you'll find it here. (I actually looked into getting the rights to display the image on this site, but The Cartoon Bank wants considerably more for that than I'm able to spend. Here's hoping Booth, who is still alive, is getting a cut of the action.)

Like a pearl, the best humor always has a grain of uncomfortable truth at its core, and this cartoon packs an uncomfortable truth the size of a kidney stone. We writers tend to think of ourselves as loners, but the truth is that your writing career, whether you recognize it or not, is a partnership.

Ladies, admit it: if it weren't for that guy who's working to keep a roof over your head and provide the medical insurance, you'd never be able to spend anywhere near as much time writing as you do. Gents, admit it: if it weren't for that woman who's keeping the house together and keeping the kids out of your hair, you wouldn't be able to write, either. Those of you with alternative and/or non-traditional living arrangements: it's none of my business and I don't care, so substitute gender-specific nouns as required to describe your situation.

But all of you, admit this: unless you are a hermit, a lighthouse keeper, a committed single for life, or a college student still sponging off your parents, there is an Other Person in your life who makes it possible for you to find the time in which you write.

So while it's tempting to dismiss today as being just St. Hallmark's Day, the feast day of the patron saint of useless marketeers, it does serve a useful purpose. On this one day, at least, you should knock off writing early, get off the Internet, shut down your computer, and go do something special with your Ethel.

Remember, a writing career is a partnership. So give your silent partner some recognition today, okay?