The Blog

A friend of mine is in charge of publicity for Steven Pressfield, and part of her job is to share her thoughts on the business of writing. A while back she admitted how not enchanted she is by that sometimes. She also mentioned a few projects around the house she wasn’t looking forward to, either.

I left her a comment and had Darrell proofread it. He couldn’t resist offering Callie help with removing the base of a broken lightbulb that’s stuck in a socket. Something about a cork. Next thing we know, another guy had weighed in. “If a cork isn’t handy,” he said, “use a baking potato.” Can you guess what happened next? “A potato would work,” Darrell suggested I add to the thread, “but just make sure there’s no power running to the socket or you’ll have more than a hot potato.”

It took me exactly zero seconds to realize it’s true what they say about guys and their projects. You’ve barely raised the garage door to have a good look at the lawn mower and soon all the neighbors want to help fix it. In the driveway? Mildly amusing. On a writing blog? Hilarious!

You know, to me.

A friend of ours is a comic, and she joined us on the show recently to talk about the different kinds of laughter. She told me she’s sure I know what Darrell’s “fake laugh” sounds like.

Nope. Not a clue.

We don’t laugh to be polite. House rules. This particular rule started with lasagna. As newlyweds Darrell told me my lasagna was the best he’d ever had, and I shared that with a few people at work. “You know he’s lying,” one of them said. “Yeah?” I fired back. “All it’s going to get him is more lasagna.”

Go ahead. Laugh when things aren’t funny. Rave when things aren’t yummy. Once in a while it’s the right thing to do -- when little kids tell jokes, or old people serve runny spaghetti. But a steady diet of fake? You deserve better.

Of course there’s more! Write to me and we’ll get you set up. Thanks!