8 Signs You’re Dating a Writer
Anyone who's ever dated a writer or bibliophile knows there are certain quirks and habits that come with the territory. Writer and playwright Michelle Meyers (whose debut novel Glass Shatters is out April 12) just outlined eight of the most common ones you've either experienced or can expect to.
Think you may be dating a writer, but you're not quite sure? Here are eight telltale signs that will help you figure it out!
- His favorite bar names are based on literary puns. He doesn't seem to care that the beer is overpriced at "An Ale of Two Cities" or that the mixed drinks are too weak at "Huckleberry Ginn," and he prefers to get his groove on at "The Imbible" even though they only play classic Christian rock.
- He believes the contents of your character can be discerned by the contents of your bookshelf. Do you own copies of Elena Ferrante's My Brilliant Friend, Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude, and the Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky translation of The Brothers Karamazov? He has already decided to marry you. Is your book collection composed entirely of the Hunger Games series and an old, beat-up copy of Julie of the Wolves? That may be why he hasn't texted you back.
- When he seems like he's idly wasting time, he's actually searching for inspiration for his next novel. Is he watching football instead of filing those tax forms? It's because he wants his next protagonist to be afflicted with chronic traumatic encephalopathy. Has he spent all day playing Call of Duty on his Xbox instead of cleaning the downstairs bathroom? It's because he wants to write about digital representations of military violence in post-9/11 America . . . duh.
- He believes that only he understands the true genius of David Foster Wallace. No further explanation necessary.
- He has always dreamed of meeting the love of his life at an independent bookstore. And he will ask you if you can pretend that's how the two of you met, meandering about the aisles of the literature section, catching one another's gaze as you both reached for that single copy of Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go . . .
- He does not get the point of "Netflix and chill." How are you supposed to appreciate the nuances of a film's narrative arc if you're making out the whole time?
- His understanding of the complex psychology of fictional characters may not translate into an understanding of the complex psychology of real human beings. He can spend hours discussing the complicated emotional intricacies of Captain Ahab and King Lear, but he's clueless as to the degree that his lack of affection and fear of commitment contribute to your own insecurities.
- He fancies himself the next [insert name of famous author], and if things get really serious, maybe he'll tell you who it is. Is it Chaucer? William Faulkner? Hopefully it's not Ayn Rand!