Category Archives: Monday morning writing joke

Monday morning writing joke (and a quote): “Critic at large”

Critic: He wanted to be a novelist. He has achieved his ambition: a bad novelist.

Reminds me of the joke,

Question: “What’s the difference between a writer and a bad writer?”

Answer: “The critic.”

Or…
“A ‘critic’ is a man who creates nothing and thereby feels qualified to judge the work of creative men. There is logic in this; he is unbiased—he hates all creative people equally.”
Robert A. Heinlein, novelist

Novelist Robert A. Heinlein autographing one of his works.

Novelist Robert A. Heinlein autographing one of his works.

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Monday morning writing joke: “Pox review”

I wrote a response, but chickened out and didn't send it to the critic.

I wrote a response, but chickened out and didn’t send it.

I’m a writer and I don’t get no respect. Just yesterday I saw a review of my latest novel. The critic said: “This book will leave its marks on literature — like chicken pox.”

Couldn’t she have at least said, “small pox”?

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Monday morning writing joke: “Fiery language”

“Look at this,” one editor said, reading the cover letter of a manuscript. “He claims he puts fire in his writings.”

The second editor read a few pages of the manuscript and told the first one, “He’d do better to put his writings into the fire.”

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Monday morning writing joke: “All ‘choked up”

Sometimes his writing "chokes" me up.

Sometimes his writing “chokes” me up.

I’m a writer and I don’t get no respect. I was at a holiday party for writers the other night when I heard someone say of my latest work: “Reading his novel is like eating an artichoke: you have to go through so much to get a little.”

I wasn’t hungry after that.

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Monday morning writing joke: “Best seller”

Sometimes "coal" comes in strange forms.

Sometimes “coal” comes in strange forms.

I’m a writer and I don’t get no respect. Just the other day, I saw Santa Claus. I said, “Hey Santa, I want a best seller. Just one best seller. That’s all I ask. That’s all I work for. Can you help me out?”

On Christmas morning I found a Stephen King novel under my tree. A used one at that.

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Monday (morning) writing joke: “Memoir”

The jackass and the giant were outside chewing the fat. At a time when Christmas decorations were the focus of buyers, they were barely tolerated by the shoppers and passersby.

“Do you ever miss it?” the jackass asked when they were alone.

“Oh, sometimes,” the green giant said. “Particularly now that I’m working on my memoir. Brings back a lot of memories.”

The jackass and the green giant were outside chewing the fat.

The jackass and the green giant were outside chewing the fat.

“I didn’t know you wrote. Didn’t even know you knew how.”

The green giant blushed slightly red on the green. Made him look a little orange in the face. “Taught myself on the sly. Had to. I wanted to prove I wasn’t just another alien here to take their money and take a job away from a local.

“Then my contract came due and since I could now read, I could figure out that was working for beans. So, I demanded more money and they didn’t renew the contract.”

“They fired you?!” the donkey asked, his eyes wide.

“Pretty much.”

“They can’t do that.”

The green giant smiled. “They found somebody who would do it for less.”

“Why, those corporate mules!”

“Something like that.”

The jackass kicked back a hind leg and almost broke a door.

The green giant didn’t say anything more.

“You’re shorter than I expected,” the jackass said. “I thought you’d be taller.”

“A trick of modern film editing.”

“So what’s your memoir going to be called?”

The man smiled. “The memoir of a has bean. How I sold my soul a little green, but got stuck in the brown.”

The jackass nodded. “Catchy. ‘Specially that stuck in the brown part.”

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Monday morning writing joke: “Strike while hot”

Match

Sometimes the white hot heat of passion is misleading.

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Monday (morning) evening writing joke

Sometimes, good things take time; and awful things can take even longer.

Sometimes, good things take time; and awful things can take even longer.

I’m a writer and I don’t get no respect. A few months back at a writing conference, I happen to talk to an agent and I asked her what was the most important thing she looked for in a manuscript. She said, “Good writing.”

When I got home I immediately sent her my manuscript.

Then I heard nothing.

And after a few more months, I still heard nothing.

Eventually I caught up with the agent at another writing conference and I was about to ask her why I hadn’t heard from her, when she raised a hand and said two words: “Still looking.”

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I’m a writer and I don’t get no respect: blowing your own horn

Writer, no respect

Sometimes it’s hard to blow your own horn.

I recently attended a music festival to try to sell some of my books when I overheard one musician say this about my writing to another musician: “His writing reminds you of a clarinet — a wind instrument.”

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Monday morning writing joke: no accounting for taste

writer; no respect

Sometimes, there’s just no accounting for taste.

I tell ya, I’m a writer and I don’t get no respect. I just got back from my quarterly beating … I mean meeting with my accountant. We went over my deductions as a writer. He said I should be careful what I claim. After we’re done and I’m leaving, he leans over and tells his partner, “He writes books nobody will read and checks nobody will cash.”

Since when did accountants become book critics? Cook ’em, yeah, but read one and have an opinion? Next time he puts his two cents in, I’ll make sure it’s in the right column, the one for trash. I know only too well where that one is.

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