confessions of a faux writer

I’m a liar.

My entire post-collegiate professional (ha!) life, come to think of it, has been founded on a singular off-white lie. For months—years, really—I’ve masqueraded as a full-time writer. It’s no easy task perpetuating this sly hoax, and I’m certain that more than a few of my closest friends are on to me.

In casual company, though, it’s remarkably easy to sell:

When cross-examined, the faux writer need only play up the mysterious/pseudo-intellectual/vaguely bored persona for a few miles and methodically invent a series of pieces that are either “in the works” or, conversely, completed projects of gargantuan vision and scope, ink long dried, specifics long forgotten. All the while—and this is the difficult part—the faux writer deftly circles the block a few times and offers swift disclaimers explaining away the reasons for none of his/your shit being available on-line for perusal (links to your work? actually, no, because…), thus rendering the inquisitive boob incapable of calling your bluff. Compare your work to, say, Raymond Chandler or Graham Greene. Lends you cred.

I’m neither deft nor methodical, however, so perhaps I’ve fooled no one after all. Also haven’t read Raymond Chandler. I should probably get on that or name-drop somebody else.

My lies:

a) I’m 35 pages deep on a memoir.

b) I’ve created a number of artist bios for Nashville singer/songwriters.

c) I’m a contributor to Chicago’s Beachwood Reporter, an online music forum.

The truth:

a) Well, I am working on a memoir. That much is true. For those of you who aren’t aware, I’ve spent roughly half my life (twelve summers) employed as a caddie. That’s my memoir. Eight years in Chicago at a private country club, four in Bandon, OR (see the attached picture) at the world’s number one resort golf destination. Most of the memoir deals with the latter. I worked with some real shysters—three hundred of the roughest, crassest, most destitute cretins you’ve ever seen. And then there were a half-dozen or so female caddies (Bandon’s a naturally occurring contraceptive) who deserve ample mention and a nice firm handshake for swatting away leagues of frothing sex-starved alcoholic crazies and keeping their clothes securely fastened. I’m on page 21, not page 35, and there’s no hint of cohesion. What I have, basically, is slop.

b) I penned one bio (which was actually kick-ass) for Matt Wertz (who is actually a Nashville singer/songwriter...these lies are not all vaporous). He paid me fifty bucks for writing the thing but never used it. Three people submitted and Matt scrapped all of them, opting to write the thing himself. He made a lousy decision. Mine was super brilliant. Anyway, the lie in b) was in the “…a number of…” part. That’s made-up.

c) I once wrote a review of the Velvet Underground’s White Light/White Heat for Beachwood’s “Bin Dive” subheading (a folder of sorts containing articles on old and long-forgotten albums), and they dug it. Problem is, they didn’t want White Light/White Heat. Think Todd Rundgren. Think Blue Oyster Cult. That’s more their scene. Ergo, rejected. So I guess I’m not really a contributor at all. I’m a fraud.

I’m pretty ok about all of it, though, the writer-with-nothing-to-show shtick, because I’ve been keeping up a loose journal/diary/bloggish thing for a number of years. It’s all on Word. There’s well over a hundred pages (this, unlike my claim of 35, is not an exaggerated figure) of stories, insights, existential crises. Some of it I remember writing, some…not so much. Yeah, I guess I’m a writer.

Q: Why have you been lying about this, Mike?

A: Insecurity. I want to be an established writer. But I talk more than I produce. To keep up appearances I kinda fold the truth, just a little bit. I really wish I could break my addiction to Yahoo! euchre. That eats up a lot of my time. (Chews on fingernail, scratches knee.)

I’ve commenced this blog to make myself feel better. It's a purely masturbatory exercise. The more I write, the more I sell myself to myself.

If you like it, great! That’s a bonus.



Current Yahoo! euchre rating—1751.