the return
Marley Magaziner
Hey guysssss!
So. The Humpus. It’s back. Kinda. I’ve been…how should I put it… busy. Overwhelmed. Trying to prioritize and all that. And the things that directly involve other people (work, home life, friends, my burlesque troupe) generally trump the things that involve well, an email list of people, who haven't been clamoring for attention.
So. Oh hai. Did you miss me? I missed y’all. True! I was thinking of you while I was on a break. Turns out, taking a break from something doesn’t necessarily free up time. You find things to fill that time. Sleep, for one. And LOL cats. And weird japanese videos on youtube.
Anyway. Stephen has been cranking out Rumpuses daily for a while and each is more egregious than the last. Seriously, the ego on that guy. To be an artist, to be successful, you need to have an ego: a strong sense of self and confidence and purpose. That’s a given. I get that. But you also need humility, appreciation, kindness, and… shit, a whole buncha other things to go with that ego to make yourself a likeable human being. Dear Sugar (http://therumpus.net/2010/07/dear-sugar-the-rumpus-advice-column-44-how-you-get-unstuck/) is keeping the Rumpus tolerable, frankly. (Don’t read that unless you’re ready to cry a little. Seriously. If you don’t cry a little reading that you can just unsubscribe to the Humpus right now.)
Which brings us to yesterday’s Rumpus. It was particularly offensive. More offensive than the one dated June 22 2010 in which Stephen said:
Writing is not a competition measured in financial rewards, that's a different game. For these reasons I don't pitch books or articles, I just write whatever I want. Then I try to sell it for as much as I can, but I'm not bitter if no one wants to pay me well for writing that I do for myself. Why should they? And when I feel bad that at 38, despite writing seven books, I still have two roommates and only a bedroom's worth of possessions, I think about all the people out there who actually work.
Dumbass. Pitying me for working? Please. I had a choice. I made my choice. Only I get to pity myself for that choice, ok? And I have a good job and you… are almost 40 and still don’t get it.
Yesterday Stephen related his Rumpus to the Dear Sugar I linked to above and he talked about how he plays the “I grew up in group homes pity me n give me shit because I earned it” card. It works, he says. On one hand, I don’t believe anyone should be ashamed of his or her childhood no matter how harsh or privileged it was. Bad shit happens. Good shit happens. On the other hand, I’m 28. I’m not the person I was when I was 15 and I’m not wallowing in the hardships nor resting on the accomplishments of 15-year-old me. College is as far back as I get to go for wallowing/resting purposes and even that’s a stretch. (I had an internship at NPR when I was 22…I was going to be a radio journalist. I decided to move to New York and now I work in publishing so…BFD, right?)
It all makes you who you are. There’s no question in that. But what the fuck are you doing with who you are right this second? How much have you grown?
Fortunately, Stephen has no shame. He revealed to us in a much earlier Daily Rumpus the miserable amount he gets paid for sitting around with his dick in his hand writing. Oh, sorry, was that mean? The guy doesn’t have a real job and he’s looking around for handouts because he had such a hard life. Please.
I firmly believe that Stephen Elliott writes because he is bored. He doesn’t write because he wants to be published or else he would seek out a publisher and match his writing to his intended audience. Not that you shouldn’t write what you want, but you can’t say you’re writing for publication or even a "working writer" if that’s how you approach the job. Stephen thinks he’s entitled to being published. You see, he was a teenage runaway and lived in group homes and—what? IT’S SO TEMPTING!
My point is. Don’t be a dick. Even the most accomplished people I know are super humble about it and that is why we like them. Or why I like them. Because I’m nobody. What, I have a google group newsletter? BFD. I dont deserve. I earn. There's a BFD (the d stands for difference there).
I realize this Humpus all about rolling my eyes at Stephen Elliott and I promise that I’m going to change that in future Humpi. Just… right now. That’s what I need to do. And I just write whatever I want. ZING!
Ok now we do the announcements and links part:
TWO VERY IMPORTANT events you need to attend. I don’t care if you don’t live in NYC. Get your cute lil tush to these shows.
1. My burlesque troupe, Storybook Burlesque, is performing A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Galapagos Art Space on July 29. You better fuckin be there. Presale tix are barely $12 (inc service charges!) and, if you want a seat up front, $22. At the door it’s $15.
http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/brooklyn/shakespeare_stripped_down_nAG9PRYqYODMDnRbGGdXDN famous! Tickets!
2. Blog for which I and everyone else who is awesome write, soldoutmusic.com, is having a music party 1 week later on Aug 5 and you better fuckin be THERE TOO. Santos Party House 7 pm doors, 7:30 first performer. If I can get my shit together I’ma dj for 5 minutes until Russ throws me out of the DJ booth for playing… well, anything. It’s $10 at the door or $8 presale. http://soldout.squarespace.com/blog/2010/7/20/the-party.html has all the infos you need.
And that’s enough for now, don’t you think? We’ll get back to nonsense and funny stuff on the internet and links to things that won’t make you cry and stories about that one time I got drunk and said something inappropriate and tripped over my own feet and fell down. Ha. That ONE time.
Love.