But I'm A Humorist. I'm Not A

I Guess My Guilty Pleasure Would Be Listening To The British Audio Versions Of The 'harry Potter' Books.

When Asked "what Do We Need To Learn This For?" Any High-school Teacher Can Confidently Answer That, Regardless Of The Subject, The Knowledge Will Come In Handy Once The Student Hits Middle Age And Starts Working Crossword Puzzles In Order To Stave Off The Terrible Loneliness.

Writing Helped To Have Jobs That Involved Running Around, Pushing Things Like Dish Carts And Wheelbarrows. It Would Be Hard To Sit At A Desk All Day, And Then Come To Sit At Another Desk. Also, It Helps To Abandon Hope. If I Sit At My Computer, Determined To Write A New Yorker Story I Won't Get Beyond The First Sentence. It's Better To Put No Pressure On It. What Would Happen If I Followed The Previous Sentence With This One, I'll Think. If The Eighth Draft Is Torture, The First Should Be Fun. At Least If You're Writing Humor.

When Forced To Leave My House For An Extended Period Of Time, I Take My Typewriter With Me, And Together We Endure The Wretchedness Of Passing Through The X-ray Scanner. The Laptops Roll Merrily Down The Belt, While I’m Instructed To Stand Aside And Open My Bag. To Me It Seems Like A Normal Enough Thing To Be Carrying, But The Typewriter’s Declining Popularity Arouses Suspicion And I Wind Up Eliciting The Sort Of Reaction One Might Expect When Traveling With A Cannon. It’s A Typewriter,’ I Say. ‘you Use It To Write Angry Letters To Airport Security.

I Tend To Write Things Seven Times Before I Show Them To My Editor. I Write Them Seven Times, Then I Take Them On Tour, Read Them Like A Dozen Times On Tour, Then Go Back To The Room And Rewrite, Read And Rewrite... I Would Never Show Him A First Draft, Because Then He's Really Going To Be Sick Of It By The Twelfth Draft.