BARRY KNOWS BEST

by Judy Epstein

I have just returned from a writing conference where Dave Barry, Pulitzer-Prize- winning colossus of the humor-writing field, gave a key piece of advice to all us wanna-bes:  “Sit down at your computer with a cup of coffee, first thing every morning, and don’t get up till 1,000 words have appeared on your computer screen.”

He did not elaborate on where these 1,000 words are supposed to come from... though I suspect he would frown on my best idea, which is copying them out of one of his books.

My problem is that, on top of the difficulty every writer has in following this advice, I am a mom;  and so the first thing I do in the morning can never be sitting down to a computer.  Instead, I must first get my two children off the computer, dressed, fed, and out the door to school, where teachers have a way of saying things like,  “You didn’t really have jelly beans for breakfast, did you?”  “Mommy said  ‘For G-d’s sake get it yourself, I’m on a deadline here!’ and they’re all I can reach.” 

As soon as the younger one’s school bus turns the corner,  I can return to an empty house.  Here’s where good training kicks in.  It isn’t everyone who could walk past the stack of unwashed dishes in the sink, and the un-made beds,  and sit right down at her desk – but that’s the kind of disciplined writer I am.  I think Dave would be proud.

I switch on the computer and make a cup of coffee while it boots up.  Being old and crotchety – the computer, too – the process takes a while.  But eventually, I am faced with an empty page and a cursor blinking at me, waiting for my thoughts.  Which are, exactly...

Nothing.  Nothing.  More nothing.  In my time, I have been accused of talking the hind leg off a donkey, but now suddenly I can’t think of a single thing to say.  I wonder how long this part takes Dave Barry? 

Ah, something’s happening at last.  It’s the doorbell.  Last week it was the UPS man with a package that required my signature.  This time it’s a woman from some charity, collecting for victims of the tsunami, or maybe the earthquake, or else Hurricane Katrina.   “Can’t you see that I’m busy?” I rant.  “I don’t have time for your petty concerns!  I’m a thousand words behind!”  I slip a few crumpled bills into her hand, then slam the door in her face.   

I head back to my computer and plop down again.  But even after I finally start typing, there is still nothing on the screen.  It turns out that I have dribbled coffee on the computer keyboard one too many times.

Even Dave Barry would agree that a writer needs a working keyboard.  Two hours in an office-supply store later, and an installation worthy of a yoga instructor,  I am back at work.  Unfortunately, the new keyboard is no more coffee-proof than the old, so now I can’t even sit with a cup of coffee, but must commute back and forth to where my mug sits in lonely splendor in the kitchen.

Eventually, I notice a message blinking on my answering machine.  It’s from my little one’s teacher.  “Judy?  I’m just calling to remind you, you said you’d come in today and tell the class what you do as a writer.”  I dash out, arriving 10 minutes before the end of school.  There is only enough time to pass along this advice:  “You have to sit at your computer until a thousand words appear on the screen.”  Luckily, the bell rings before anyone can ask if I ever do that, myself.   

It is not until my children are both back home that I realize that there is nothing in the house to cook for dinner.  But that’s all right, because I wouldn’t have time to cook, anyway.  It’s hard work, fitting the needs of my family into a hectic day of staring at an empty computer screen.

I don’t want to suggest for one liberated minute that there’s any difference in men’s versus women’s ability to do any job on earth.   All I’m saying is that when my husband and kids want to know why, after being home all day, I haven’t managed to produce a single thing for them to eat, I’m sending them to Dave Barry’s house.  I hope he can cook. 

Judy Epstein is busy writing her next column, so please send your ideas and check out her Web site at alookonthelightside.com. 

© 2006, Judy Epstein