I have always had a weird affinity for the cartoonist Jack Ziegler, whom I first encountered in The New Yorker. He’s not their most prolific contributor — these days, you might find his work once in every three or four issues. Time was, though, when he put in an appearance weekly. And for whatever reason, I found myself drawn (ho ho) to his eccentric view of modern civilization, to the point that I picked up a couple of his anthologies over the years.
His 1978 collection, Hamburger Madness, includes several fine depictions of writers’ dilemmas. The first, the title cartoon, isn’t really about writing per se. But the mind of its protagonist will be familiar to anyone who has been given three months, a month, a week, a few hours to finish a manuscript. Or, of course, has suddenly found himself in the throes of writing passionately, goosed by The Muse:
The second example, though, will really hit home.
A while back, I described a legendary creature called “the sh!tbird on [the writer’s] shoulder.” You’ll recall that this creature is the one who perches on your shoulder while you’re writing — second-guessing every decision you make. He goes, like:
You can’t write. Who told you you can write, anyhow? Look at the way you worded that. You call that writing? For God’s sake, you spelled “your” like “you’re”! And oh for chrissake, look there — passive, passive, passive! Better fix that right away — but no, goddammit, no, not that way, look, you just made it worse…!
A writer’s shoulders host more than this one regular visitor, however. Also familiar, I think, will be the little one who whispers in your ear — especially when you’re on deadline — about everything else you could be doing instead:
I especially love Ziegler’s decision to make it an angel sitting on the shoulder. Anybody who thinks the soothing voice of distraction comes to writers from a devil’s lips has never heard that voice.
Sarah says
Oh my gosh, I love the little angel- what a brilliant idea. My procrastinating almost always comes in the form of doing something “good”-
marta says
Perfect and much needed. Yes, it is an angel. Who says angels are so great? To join them you’ve still got to die.
Anyway, thanks for these.
John says
@Sarah – Another nice touch is the way the angel’s got his right hand in the writer’s hair, sort of running his fingers through the curls. When I’m ready (or not!) for distraction, there are always imaginary itches, rustling noises, the ticks as the house “settles” — all senses are annoyingly amplified, to hallucinatory levels…
@marta – “Who says angels are so great? To join them you’ve still got to die.” Now that’s good. Can I steal it as the epigraph for my autobiography?
Jolie says
I could kill that stupid angel. It’s even worse than the sh*tbird.
John says
@Jolie – Ain’t that the truth. But somehow, y’know, the act of killing it — which I’d want to prolong — would turn out to become just another stupid distraction. And it wouldn’t last. I think he might be more like the movies’ “Chucky,” only with wings.