By Justin Juul
“It’s a shame that the only thing a man can do for eight hours a day is work. He can’t eat for eight hours; he can’t drink for eight hours; he can’t make love for eight hours. The only thing a man can do for eight hours is work.”
–William Faulkner
Day jobs are terrible, soul-crushing, things for most people, but they can actually inspire thoughts of suicide and murder in those with high aspirations — like writers, for example. Such was the case with the literary giants who spoke at Porchlight / Litquake’s recent shindig, “I’d Prefer Not To: Writers Talk About Day Job Hell,” and such is the case with me. I have been working non-stop since the age of fourteen and I have hated every minute of it with all my heart. But what can you do, right? Until someone offers to pay me a living-wage for writing, I’m just gonna have to keep on hustling. I got bills and shit, ya know?
Crispin Glover as Bartleby, the Melville character who made “I’d prefer not to” a revolutionary cry.
A coffee mug stencil of Crispin Glover by Mr. Juul. We’ll leave the implications to Baudrillard, thanks.
The pretty dang famous writers who spoke at The Swedish American Hall on Monday were able to laugh and make jokes about working because they don’t have to do it anymore. These days they just kick back and enjoy wealth and fame and appreciation and respect and adoration and I fucking hate them all. God!
Here’s a partial list of the shitty positions they held before they got their big breaks.