That’s write.
I own the alphabet for a living. So much so that I make it do things like the above.
I’ma writer, a rebel, a wordsmith, an alphabet wrangler, a 1-line banger. I’ve written things that never should have been written. Worked on things that never should have seen the light of day. We’re talking McDonalds tray liners. Trashy ads. Ad-libbed lines.
What has it gotten me? Outside of a career, dozens of awards and the title of “The Hemmingway of Dad Jokes,” I’m not sure. Because that would mean I’d have to add things up, and I am a real writer, I don’t do Math.
But I can share some things.
Like the times I’ve had people who literally can’t spell re-write things for me. BRILLIANT!
Where was I going with this, again?
Exactly.
I am here to put the alphabet to work, whatever that may mean. I then force designers, art directors, directors, producers, editors, animators and sound engineers to BEND TO MY WILL AND JUST DO IT. But, like, with a smile.
Wrangling the alphabet all day is, as I was taught and never quite understood until I was knee-deep sucking it through my every pore, a “dirty, dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.”
When you work professionally in a field of opinions, a lot of shit gets planted all around you. I simply weed it out. One number at a time.
For you. For America. For humanity. And mostly for a paycheck.