LOOKING THE PART

by Deborah Elliott-Upton

“You don’t look like a writer,” the man said, taking another sip of the scotch. “Let me guess. Romance?” he asked. His salesman smile revealed very white, perfectly sculpted teeth.

I shook my head.

“Children’s books ?” he offered.

“No.” I sipped the pinot grigio, noticing he wasn’t deterred by my not contributing much to the conversation. “Actually, I really enjoy planning robberies, stalking and killing people,” I said. “I just don’t want to go to jail, so I write about it instead of committing the crimes.”

The man chuckled, but it was forced. Sweat beads popped on his brow like we were in the Sahara instead of a climate-controlled hotel ballroom.

“It’s the research I enjoy the most,” I said, peering into his eyes like we were conspirators.

“The research?” He gulped the rest of the scotch, gestured to the empty glass and made a beeline for the bar. He avoided me the rest of the evening.

The TV show that tests people’s skill for judging others by their appearances is interesting if not compelling entertainment. The production does not seem to make the people on stage appear any different than their everyday persona. It’s simply people don’t always look like we think they should to match the stereotypes of their job. I immediately recognized one of my personal heroes, Stan Lee, the creator of Spiderman when he stood on stage, but the contestant was unsure.

Glancing over the photos of my fellow bloggers here, I think we look like writers. But, what is that?

I will be attending a writer’s conference the day this hits cyberspace. A writer’s conference is like any other business conference where networking is infused between seminars. Consider for a moment how one should dress for a business conference. Perhaps a suit, sensible shoes you can wear all day without pain and a trip to the hair stylist the day before. Although some do adhere to the unwritten dress code, that isn’t how most writers show up for a seminar. (I’m told screenwriters and poets appear the scruffiest, but that’s only partially true.)

A few years ago in New Mexico, I attended a workshop for law enforcement and mystery writers to study blood spatters in criminal cases. During the seminar, we were “coached” on how to dress for court by a man whose current career was as an expert witness. Dark blue is the most accepted color to wear the speaker informed us as juries read navy to be a truthful color. Is this why most police uniforms are blue? I wondered. The expert witness said we should dress conservatively, with our hair combed and shoes shined. In addition, women were warned not to wear open-toed shoes on the witness stand. Supposedly, toe cleavage is symbolic somehow to wanton women and we would not be believed.

So, what does a writer look like? The unwritten stereotype of a writer is either a bit geeky, with mussed hair and an overall unkempt appearance and writes longhand on legal pads or a man in a rumpled suit with a bottle of whiskey in the bottom drawer of his heavy, massive desk and types on a manual typewriter – on purpose. Oh, wait, that was another era. Today a writer probably types on a laptop, wears a tee-shirt and jeans and may or may not wear shoes while doing it. Also, a writer is very likely female. My best friend writes in the nude and no, she does not write romance or erotica, but that’s another story.

We often judge the book by its cover, but maybe we shouldn’t. Inside the plain brown wrapper might be a far juicier tale than you first believed. My naked friend with the angelic face is often asked if she writes for children. “Horror,” she answers. “And Christian-based nonfiction.”

Writers come in all personalities, shades and sizes. J.A. Jance, Walter Mosley, Mary Higgins Clark, Edward Hoch, T. Jefferson Parker and Jan Burke are all talented mystery writers, but they don’t look alike. Heck, before they became so well-known, John Q. Public may have had trouble deciding their occupations, too.

Writers are people who may share overactive imaginations, but we don’t all look the same or act the same or write the same. Aren’t we fortunate to be so diverse?

Maybe I don’t look like a writer, but maybe I do. What does one look like anyway?