An acquaintance of mine recently posted this on her wall:
“MFA thesis defended!”
These are the comments that followed:
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Congratulations!
Way to go, Sloan!!
You did it, you’re the best!!xoxo
Awesome. Just awesome.
It must feel great to accomplish something so useful!
Congratudonlences!
That’s great, hopefully the debt won’t be too crippling!
You’re going to be a poet, I hope! A nation really can’t have too many of them!
That’s eight years spent in academia that you can be damn proud of!
So. Fucking. Brave.
Very sorry to hear this. WHAT NOW???? At least your mother died believing that you’d never finish that degree!
Thank God somebody is finally going to give some attention to Gender Dichotomies in the Kitchen: Feminine and Masculine Qualities of Spaces and Artifacts as exhibited in Queer literature of the 1990’s! It’s been a long time coming! You rawk, Sloan!
Idiot.
Hopefully after all those years you committed to that institution, you have a good relationship with them and they might offer you a job as a diversity officer or something!
Sloan, you have just taken your Blog to the next level!
So, so, so sorry to hear this. Big hugz!!
My ex works at the Starbucks on College and University, and I am sure he can get you a job there while you write your novel. Private message me.
Fantastic news! You must be super proud! See you at the Slam Poetry workshop on Sunday!
First of all, before I write my message, I want to thank Mother Earth for all the resources that she allows us to use, and honour all First Nation, Métis and Inuit people whose land we settlers now stand upon. We ask your forgiveness. YOU ARE THE BEST, SLOAN, YOU MUST BE SO PROUD!!
Have you told your psychiatrist yet?
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Dear Bitter Writer:
I think that having the capacity to feel a broad array of emotions is a big component of being a great, great writer, like you are, and with that in mind I was wondering what the first book that made you cry was?
Igor
Igor:
This one is very easy.
The first book that made me cry was Horton Hears a Who!
Completely fucking terrifying.
Dr. Seuss was one messed-up guy, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he turned out to some sort of unknown serial killer. He’s like a Stephen King for children. You should fear him.
Anyway, I was probably about four when this book was first read to me, and I immediately understood that our world was no different than the speck of dust Horton was holding. Our lives– even those of Mommy and Daddy– were incredibly precarious and vulnerable, subject to forces we know nothing about and couldn’t even begin to imagine. At any second, all we knew and loved could just vanish into an unknowable abyss. I did not sleep for two weeks after the babysitter (Summer) read this stupid book to me, and ever since, I’ve been cursed by a deeply penetrating existential terror, one that continues to govern my days.
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Dear Bitter Writer:
You’re such an interesting and charismatic person, I was wondering if you’d share with us any literary pilgrimages you might have gone on?
Oscar winning actress Jennifer Lawrence
Jennifer:
Ha, so great to hear from you!
As far as your question goes, I’ve never been on a, “this is the cafeteria where Kafka ate,” or, “ this is the dungeon where Dr. Seuss used to torture his victims,” kind of pilgrimage. Instead, I think of each day as a literary pilgrimage. I go out with the conscious intent of finding a moment of beauty in the world, of discovering something holy, and then I try to recreate it using words. And so each day is a journey, a pilgrimage toward something sacred that must be worshipped.
PS: Have you been getting my postcards? I have not heard back and was wondering if I was given the wrong super-yacht address for you?
PPS: I think you’re something sacred that must be worshipped!
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Dear Bitter Writer:
I just want to say how much I LOVED your brilliant book A VAN FULL OF GIRLS.
It is, and I hope this doesn’t embarrass you, the work of a true genius. Obviously, writing just pours out of you, but if for some reason you couldn’t be a genius writer, what do you think you’d do for work?
Taylor
Taylor:
Thank you for the kind, extremely perceptive words!
It’s hard to imagine a life where I’m not a writer, but if I were forced to live one by some alien over-lord or something, I think I would probably be a model. I think I could bring a lot to that job.
This writing business isn’t working out for me. I type slowly, my grammar is atrocious, I’m getting dimmer and more confused as I age, and of course, there’s no money to be made. The best thing for me, instead of just growing more bitter, unsuccessful and out of touch, is to simply step away from the industry as gracefully as possible and throw my passions into something else.
I’m going to become a doula.
As fate would have it, some good friends of mine are expecting a baby in about six months, and one night over dinner they commented that I have a knack for always making those around me feel really comfortable and at ease and that they hoped they could get a doula that was as good at that as me. Right then and there I volunteered to be their doula and they jumped at the chance.
In preparation for my new role, in which it will be my job to assist Tina before, during, or after childbirth, as well as her partner Raoul, (by providing physical assistance, and emotional support), I have been studying online, reading various pamphlets and sending encouraging emails. What follows are some of the emails I have sent the expectant couple:
Tina:
I just wanted to check in, making sure that you were eating properly and getting all of the required nutrients. Remember, eggs and bone marrow make a great breakfast for mother’s-to-be!
You’re doing great and don’t worry about your new neck fat, the odd’s are in your favour that it’s not thyroid cancer!
Namaste,
Michael Murray, Doula
“IF I CAN DREAM IT, I CAN ACHIEVE IT.”
Tina:
You’re probably feeling pretty low now, but take solace in the fact that you were once beautiful and that many (some) men like big women. And in answer to your question, I have done quite a bit of research and the general consensus is that the pain associated with giving birth is really quite extreme. You’re going to make a great mother!! (Also, no, I do not know what doula means, but I will find out!!)
Namaste,
Michael Murray, Doula
“EVERYTHING HAS BEAUTY, BUT NOT EVERYONE CAN SEE.”
Tina:
STAY AWAY FROM GREEN TEA AT ALL COSTS!!!! IT COULD DAMAGE THE BABY’S DNA AND CREATE MUTATIONS IN THE CHILD!! (Hope it’s not too late!)
Namaste,
Michael Murray, Doula
“TRY TO BE LIKE THE TURTLE—COMFORTABLE IN YOUR OWN SHELL.”
Raoul:
As your family’s doula, it’s not just my job to tend to the needs of your wife Tina, but to yours, too. I know this is a very stressful time for you, especially with you trying to build a rocking cradle before the baby is born, and you probably have a lot of questions about what your new life is going to be like, whether things in the bedroom with your wife will ever be the same (no) or if you’ll be exhausted all the time (yes). In order to ameliorate these anxieties, I am going to schedule one-on-one therapy sessions each week at The House of Lancaster in Parkdale (There are new, more generous rules on touching). 
Here, we will discuss matters of new parenting and hopefully take your mind off your worries. (The expense of these field trips will be embedded in my bill to you and Tina every two weeks.)
Namaste,
Michael Murray, Doula
“FALL SEVEN TIMES AND STAND UP EIGHT.”
]]>Q. What is your biggest weakness?
A. I’m quite handsome and clever and sometimes people, particularly those less handsome and clever than me, find it intimidating.
In my past job at the box factory, they talked behind my back and said things that were, at the time, entirely untrue about my sex life and the way I treated animals. Well, I showed them, I tell you. Anyway, there will always be people like this, people who have drunk deeply of the Hatorade and are out to get you, and so you just have to take care of it, you know?
Q. What irritates you about co-workers?
A. Usually, and I know that this sounds petty, but it’s the way that they dress. It’s always so predictable and lumpy, their outfits typically accented with some sad detail of their life like Cheesie dust or cat hairs. It just depresses me, and then I get mad at them for depressing me. It can be a toxic cycle.
Q. How do you handle stress and pressure?
A. I’m glad you asked this question because it’s really quite a complex issue. Often, I simply take time off work. This helps, but it doesn’t really solve the problem, and so after trying meditation and finding it useless, I’ve discovered that I need to create a cocktail of prescription medications to help calm the “BLACK TORNADO ZONE” I typically spin into. Also, I find that regular target practice at my gun club near Brampton is incredibly therapeutic.
Q. What will you do if you don’t get this job?
A. I will go and see Iron Man 3 again. I always get inspiration from the Iron Man. He’s made of iron, you know? Nothing gets him down. And then, after a good, inspirational cry, I will just try and take what I’ve learned from this experience and apply it to the future, hopeful that I may yet get a job at your shitty company when the next opportunity arises.
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I have a pet peeve to air out. I’m always irked when people complain about something not being “proper English.” I maintain that there’s really no such thing; that English is only ever “proper” in a particular context, be it formal, academic, conversational, etc. What’s your proper take?
Tony Martins
Dear Mr. Martins:
I’m glad that you asked this particular question. The absolute worst thing that anybody could ever do to their life is get a master’s degree in English literature. (King Joffrey from “Game of Thrones” has a master’s in literature.)
This flimsy credential will give the holder an inappropriate amount of external confidence and entitlement but actually fill them with a crippling sense of insufficiency and self-loathing because they failed to advance any further in the world of academia. These “masters” think they’re better and more gifted than their less-certified peers but will have realized, deep, deep down in the burning pit of their anger hole that in failing to summit Mt. PhD they’re really not exceptional, just pitifully bound to the notion of external validation. Inevitably, they will take refuge in small, cruel pedantry, rattling on about things like “proper English” in the midst of the most benign, innocuous social encounters. They’re all a bunch of fuckers. There’s no such thing as proper English. We practically communicate through hieroglyphs now, okay? Get over it, fuckers. Whenever somebody says that you’re not using “proper English,” what that person is actually telling you is “I hate my life.”
Please send all letters for Bitter Writer to mm@michaelmurray.ca or post in the comments section of this page.
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