Writer for Hire

I do all sorts of writing, some for the pure joy of it and some of it for cold, hard cash. I am not one of those novelist-types who prefer the angstiness of being a novelist over the capitalist-pigishness of cashing in a paycheck. Call me a pig - with a capital P.

There are days when the words come more easily than others. Pouring over 16 volumes of documentation of quality improvement projects at an area hospital and trimming that down to 150 word blurbs for an awards program isn't the stuff of dreams. Sure, I'd rather submit some witty prose for an over-priced men's clothing catalog, but I'll take what I can get.

But some requests for my writing skills are not only more difficult - they are so freaking hard I simply sit on my sofa, stare at my bookcase and try to commune with my writing heroes in hopes that they will inspire me to pull something brilliant out of my arse.

Such a request came a few weeks ago from an unlikely source. Normally, I get last-minute work plans from stressed account people or friends in the biz who are already working until midnight and aren't sure how they're gonna get that last press release done.

My most recent assignment came from my sister.

No, my sister is not an account executive, creative director or marketing whore. She's a mother. Mother to my cute-as-hell niece, Fi.

Fi is nearing a great precipice in her life, as she turns two in October. Pre-Fi, I wrote a story book for her, complete with my less-than-stellar illustrations and presented it to my sister at her baby shower. This book as been revered as my greatest writing accomplishment to date - primarily because it's one of the few things my family has read of mine and well, they're my family. I could have taken a Crayola crayon to a canvas blindfolded and they would have wept with pride.

The problem is this - I've been given creative direction from my sister as to they type of story she'd like to see this time around. Now, let me tell you - my sister knows her children's literature. If I'm looking for advice on the perfect book to give at a 5-year-old's birthday party - she's my first call. But my mission, should I choose to accept it or not, is to write not only a book FOR Fi, but ABOUT Fi.

I can't exactly explain the level of anxiety this request produces, but I'll tell you - I've resorted to pulling some nerve-soothing Enya out of the cd stacks while I attempt some story lines.

My main concern is that while I've spent some quality time with Fi - my primary observations are that she sleeps a lot (of which I am profoundly jealous), has trouble keeping food in her mouth, is addicted to the Backyardigans, has our family's wild-ass hair and believes, like a good princess, that the world revolves around her (again, how jealous am I!) My problem is that while she is still the smartest, funniest, sassiest thing I've ever met - I'm not sure how that translates into good children's lit.

My first inclination is to go straight for the crazy-ass hair angle. Except there is no other way to describe our genetically-challenged follicles than to call it "crazy-ass" - and while I am the proud owner of zero children - I'm pretty sure "crazy-ass" isn't a word you want spattered about the pages of a children's book.

I could go on and on about how much I love her ooey-gooey guts, but that starts to sound like a book more about me than her and my files are already overflowing with self-indulgent fodder about me.

So, I'm stumped.

I'm more stumped than trying to find a way for hip replacements to sound sexy. More baffled than trying to make workers compensation insurance funny.

As it stands I'm tempted to resort to old agency tactics - which tends to involve cracking into a beer and having at it. Except one day I'll wanna tell Fi about the experience of writing her two-year-long life story and I don't think I want it to include that Auntie was drunk.

I need some inspiration - something to drive me to just put my fingers on the keys and stop horsing around with my stupid blog already. You know what this assignment is in desperate need of? A nice paycheck.

Don't judge me.