“There’s a hell of a distance between wise-cracking and wit. Wit has truth in it; wise-cracking is simply calisthenics with words.”
― Dorothy Parker
Standing around the other day with a group of intelligent and talented trailing spouses, I half joked that being a writer is a bit like being a philosopher. Lots of thoughts, not a lot of action, almost no job openings. Someone fun to have at dinner parties, a good person to turn to for book recommendations, but no real marketable skills. I am witty, sure, but wit is notoriously difficult to hock. Unless you are Dorothy Parker.
Would it be great to write, not just for the sheer joy of writing, but to earn some dosh as well? Of course. I like shoes just as much as the next guy. Then there is that pesky college fund thing. So I’ve come up with my own ideal job description. It goes like this:
Fancy Yourself the Next Dorothy Parker?
Female needed for seat at round table. Must be witty, oh so witty. Well read and able to write in complete sentences a plus, though not necessary. Must possess black humor and self-deprecating manner. Must not take oneself too seriously. Must be able to curb caustic tendencies so as not to appear jealous, bitter, or resentful, though thick-skinned enough to let water roll of a duck’s back when the inevitable occurs. Must be well-versed in cliché and metaphor. Hats encouraged.
So keep your eye out. If you see something along those lines, let’s talk.
Text from I Feel Witty, Oh So Witty