What? Are you seriously comparing me to a turkey?
Why, yes. Yes I am. But don’t take it personally. I’m comparing all writers to the Thanksgiving bird (or Thursday bird as people outside the US call it).
You suck.
Valid point. But I wasn’t commenting on your smell as in you stink like a turkey (which honestly isn’t that bad). I was referring to a turkey’s ability to see at least a 1000 feet in front of it. Now, I don’t literally (used correctly in this case so no emails) mean a writer has the power of supersight, but rather a writer has the ability to ‘see’ where their character will go and eventually end up. Some of us choose not to use this power, rather we pants it to the finish line, but the ability is still there.
What else you got?
Male turkeys are call gobblers as they announce themselves to the females using a similar sound.
I didn’t come to the RMFW blog for this crap. I’m leaving…
No wait! I have a point (not a great one, but still a point). Writers often announce themselves, not with a gobble, but with a million questions about everything or telling everyone around about their book, and/or my personal favorite, straining to eavesdropping on the couple out on their first Tinder date. Not that I’m admitting to anything, but I’ve fallen off my chair trying to listen to a conversations a few tables away.
You are such a weirdo.
Thank you, but I can’t take all the credit. The voices in my head help a lot. Now back to the turkey. According to the Smithsonian, “Studies have shown that snood (that hanging red thing on their throats) length is associated with male turkey health.” You are probably asking yourself, what this has to do with me as a writer?
Duh.
The length of your manuscript is directly related to your health. No, really. I’ve heard from a few writers about physical or mental health and its effects on their ability to write. Menopause is a bitch, apparently. For the men, I’m sure Manopause sucks too.
That was a reach.
Give me a break. Do you know how hard it is to relate writing to turkey droppings?
Speaking of turkey droppings, apparently you can tell the gender of a turkey by what it drops. Males produce spiral-shaped poop and females’ poop is shaped like the letter J. Now I could say something about writers using the letter J, thereby relating the two. But that is a reach, so I’m going to talk about how you cannot tell a writer’s gender by their book. Often people make assumptions based on the narrator as to the gender of the writer. They shouldn’t. We are writers. Good at faking stuff.
Yawn. Are you done yet?
Yes. Except for one final fact, that you as a writer will obviously understand my point:
Benjamin Franklin praised the turkey as being “a much more respectable bird” than the bald eagle.
We ARE turkeys. Each and every one of us. Better than those bald eagles. Now go strut your stuff as turkeys can only fly about 25 feet in the air.
Do you have Turkey Day plans? Does it include eating this respectable bird? Kind of cannibalistic, don’t you think?
When you’re breaking your spine from bending over backwards trying to make turkey poop relevant to a writers blog, you’ve entered my kind of twilight zone!
Loves this post, Julie. Not everyone gets me. I suspect you often get the same blank stares or head shakes I always get.
Birds of a feather…heheh…
Birds of a feather! HA! I am proud to be part of Kevin’s tribe.
Thanks for a holiday chuckle.
Thanks for dropping in!
Happy Thanksgiving, Julie!! Thanks for the smiles!
Thanks Rene. Hope you have a nice turkey day!
Uh, huh, huh.You wrote “snood”.
Try finding a place to write it outside turkey talk. That is now the challenge.
I think that thing used to cover a woman’s hair bun is called a snood….but I’m too lazy to look it up. I think my body has already anticipated the senses-dulling effects of a turkey dinner.
I like your post too, but especially that turkey. He looks just like I feel this week. 😀
Best part of being compared to a turkey: I can use my own hand to draw my self portrait. Gobble, Gobble.