That’s Santa Sonny Brewer with John Evans when he came to Lemuria last year.
Below you will find a letter Sonny wrote to accompany his new book, Don’t Quit Your Day Job. After some conversation between Sonny and John–filled with a wonderful misunderstanding about the book–Sonny decided to collect stories from writers about the day jobs they quit. I loved the letter Sonny wrote so much that I decided to share it with you here. Don’t let the seriousness of the letter fool you. Sonny is always up to something–as writers often are when there is no 9 to 5 job. Last December Sonny was Santa. I wonder what he’ll be up to this December when he comes to Lemuria?
Dear Booklover,
P. J. O’Rourke said, “Creative writing teachers should be purged until every last instructor who has uttered the words ‘Write what you know’ is confined to a labor camp . . . The blind guy with the funny little harp who composed the Iliad, how much combat do you think he saw?
Like O’Roarke, William Faulkner had his own take on the Other Commandment for writers, the one that goes, “Thou shalt not quit thy day job.” Faulkner, who won the 1949 Nobel Prize for Literature, had, twenty-five years before, worked at the post office in his hometown of Oxford, Mississippi.
Mister Faulkner was known to say, “One of the saddest things is that the only thing a man can do for eight hours, is work. You can’t eat for eight hours, nor drink for eight hours a day, nor make love for eight hours a day.”
He must have been determined to give something else (writing, we may assume, perhaps a glass of whiskey on the side) a whirl when he tendered his resignation to the postmaster. “I reckon I’ll be at the beck and call of folks with money all my life,” he said, “but thank God I won’t ever have to be at the beck and call of every son of a bitch who’s got two cents to buy a stamp.”
The authors in this book have tried their hands at some of the same jobs you have held, or still keep. They’ve worked on the railroad, busted rocks with a sledgehammer, fought fires, wiped tables, soldiered and carpentered and spied, delivered pizzas, lacquered boat paddles, counted heads for the church, sold underwear, and, yes, delivered the mail. They’ve driven garbage trucks.
And, like Williams Faulkner, they have quit those jobs.
And like Faulkner they write. They tell good tales. If you wonder what work preceded their efforts to produce a great pile of books, if you would like to know how they made the transition to, as William Gay said, “clocking in at the culture factory,” then this is the book you’ve been waiting for.
Sonny Brewer, Editor
Fairhope, Alabama
Don’t Quit Your Day Job: Acclaimed Authors and the Day Jobs They Quit is available now. You can reserve a signed copy online or call the bookstore 800/601.366.7619. On December 1st, Sonny will be signing and reading from his book. Don’t Quit Your Day Job is also the December selection for our First Editions Club.
Stay tuned for excerpts from the anthology between now and December 1st.
Click here for other blogs written for Don’t Quit Your Day Job
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Dear Booklover,
P. J. O’Rourke said, “Creative writing teachers should be purged until every last instructor who has uttered the words ‘Write what you know’ is confined to a labor camp . . . The blind guy with the funny little harp who composed the Iliad, how much combat do you think he saw?
Like O’Roarke, William Faulkner had his own take on the Other Commandment for writers, the one that goes, “Thou shalt not quit thy day job.” Faulkner, who won the 1949 Nobel Prize for Literature, had, twenty-five years before, worked at the post office in his hometown of Oxford, Mississippi.
Mister Faulkner was known to say, “One of the saddest things is that the only thing a man can do for eight hours, is work. You can’t eat for eight hours, nor drink for eight hours a day, nor make love for eight hours a day.”
He must have been determined to give something else (writing, we may assume, perhaps a glass of whiskey on the side) a whirl when he tendered his resignation to the postmaster. “I reckon I’ll be at the beck and call of folks with money all my life,” he said, “but thank God I won’t ever have to be at the beck and call of every son of a bitch who’s got two cents to buy a stamp.”
The authors in this book have tried their hands at some of the same jobs you have held, or still keep. They’ve worked on the railroad, busted rocks with a sledgehammer, fought fires, wiped tables, soldiered and carpentered and spied, delivered pizzas, lacquered boat paddles, counted heads for the church, sold underwear, and, yes, delivered the mail. They’ve driven garbage trucks.
And, like Williams Faulkner, they have quit those jobs.
And like Faulkner they write. They tell good tales. If you wonder what work preceded their efforts to produce a great pile of books, if you would like to know how they made the transition to, as William Gay said, “clocking in at the culture factory,” then this is the book you’ve been waiting for.
Sonny Brewer, Editor
Fairhope, Alabama
On the “Today Show” this morning, there was a segment entitled “Is Civility Dead”? I was immediately reminded of the excellent apropos novel that I started over the weekend and from which I am only about 20 pages from the conclusion: The False Friend by Myla Goldberg. Richard Russoo, author of That Old Cape Magic has commented on Goldberg’s newest novel by saying, The False Friend is a riveting read, both compelling and richly satisfying.” I agree. Author Aimee Bender’s comments on Goldberg’s Bee Season, a previous novel, were also very complimentary. So, I am not alone in liking Goldberg’s power in storytelling.
