SCRIBBLERS SCRAPBOOK

By Melanie Hauser

Editor's Note: The electronic age has had a tremendous effect on the way we work and live. However, it hasn't necessarily been the greatest thing for aspiring writers. Submitted for your approval: a certain writer's e-query.

"If there are two or more ways to do something, and one of those ways can result in a catastrophe, then someone will do it." - Edward A. Murphy

Catchy, isn't it?

Not really. And though this little aphorism was indeed uttered by Edward A. Murphy, THE Murphy of "Murphy's Law," it's not nearly as memorable as what is commonly referred to as "Murphy's Law:" "Anything that can go wrong, will."

So, to conclude this confusing little history lesson, I need to point out that Larry Niven, a popular science fiction author, wrote the phrase he titled "Finagle's Law of Dynamic Negatives," but popularly known as "Murphy's Law." Yes, that's right - somebody else got credit for it, some engineer in the United States Air Force who was conducting rocket-sled experiments, whatever those might be. And poor Larry Niven - a very prolific writer, true, but whoever heard of "Niven's Law?" - has never gotten his due, other than being a very good example of his own plagiarized law.

And what does this have to do with this issue's column? Nothing much, except for using up 175 words (let's see, that leaves approximately 500 to go! No - 490!)

And it is a nice little introduction to what I modestly term "Melanie's Laws" (and I'm keeping my eye out for all you sneaky little rocket-sled engineers out there!) - a compendium of mind-boggling truisms relating to the writing life.

Melanie's Law #1 - The printer will always run out of ink in the middle of an important project. Your son can accidentally print out 100 copies of the newest Britney Spears Internet picture and never run out of ink. Your husband can print out 30 different directions for making oak shelves for his beer can collection, and never run out of ink. You can work all day to meet a deadline, call the post office to make sure they're open until 6:00, start printing out your article at 5:45 - and run out of ink.

Melanie's Law #2 - When no one wants to read your writing, you are brilliant. The one time in your career when you have three deadlines to meet in one week, you can't string enough words together to write a grocery list. And I quote, "Round little orange fruity things. Clothes-washing soapy stuff. Red tomatoey-gloop for hamburgers. You know, that kind of fizzy drinkey-liquid from that one commercial I like. Nose- blowing paper thingeys."

Melanie's Law #3 - If you land a regular assignment, no one will have heard of the magazine. Since I've not yet sold an article to "People," "Popular Mechanics," or "TV Guide," none of my friends have ever seen my name in print.

Melanie's Law #4 - If you do sell an article to a magazine that might be read by your friends, it will go out of business before publication. I recently sold an article to a magazine targeted to middle-class, educated, short-attention-spanned soccer parents - i.e., all my friends and neighbors. It was published locally, by people who also publish another, successful, magazine. I wrote my article, even interviewed and quoted some of my neighbors, thus ensuring at least three people I knew would read it. The magazine went belly-up before the second issue.

Melanie's Law #5 - When you have a deadline to meet, one of your children will get sick. Really sick. Bucket and mop and endless laundry kind of sick. Really, you don't want me to go into any more detail with this one.

Melanie's Law #6 - Just when you've asked and received a small extension for the above deadline, you will come down with your child's bucket and mop and endless laundry kind of sickness. Ditto.

Melanie's Law #7 - No matter what, your friends and relatives will always pick the wrong time to ask you, "How's that writing thing going?" The day you receive fifteen coffee-stained rejection letters, your best friend will suddenly ask, "How's that writing thing going?" In the middle of July, when all the editors of the world take their vacations, apparently going off together to a sun-drenched Caribbean island to drink rum cocktails and hatch the coming year's evil plots against freelance authors, leaving you to a silent telephone, empty mailbox and e-mail inbox full only of miracle weight-loss plans and sure-fire schemes to make money in off-shore investment, your mother will suddenly call and ask, "How's that writing thing going?"

The day you finish your novel, read it in its entirety, and decide that your writing can only be the result of misguided ambition and a lethal combination of skunky beer and cold medication, your husband will ask, out of the blue, "How's that writing thing going?"

The day you polish off the best story of your career, words which poured from you like a golden gift from above. And your cranky editor actually picked up the phone to compliment you, not explain why your check is going to be two months late, and you fan that hidden, cherished dream of being interviewed by Don Imus some day - that day, your best friend, mother and husband will all three suddenly remind you that you promised you were going to win the National Book Award by age thirty, and here you were, almost a decade later, best known for profiling the new Kindergarten teacher in the school newsletter, and isn't it time to give up on that writing thing?

Melanie's Law #8 - Just when you think it might be time to give up on that writing thing, someone will pay you money to make up a whole set of silly laws with your name on them. And you chuckle, and quickly deposit the check before that someone changes his mind, and you think to yourself, who cares about that National Book Award, is this a great job, or what?

Copyright ©2000 Melanie Hauser