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VerbaTim by Tim Mitchell
Why I Write Most authors and essayists write for their own personal gain -- wealth, fame, power. I am writing this with a higher reason in mind. My wife told me to. "Tim," she bellowed lovingly, "we need something you've written to put up on our website." Actually, this is not an uncommon motive for great writers. Shakespeare, T.S. Eliot, and Norman Mailer all wrote because my wife bitched at them. She once told Jorge Luis Borges "Get cracking, you blind wetback fuck, before I slap those ugly glasses off your face." He responded by writing the stunningly intricate and lyrical collection that would become known as "Labyrinths." But she still wouldn't blow him. It was my wife Chaucer had in mind when he penned the words "Lyke unto a hamme in lyttle slyces cutte / Her heavye -- HEYE! Will sommebody tell that bitche to give it a reste?" She has dabbled in other fields, less successfully. Her foray into shrieking maniacally at Gaudi was the primary reason his cathedral was never finished. "I have become the primary architect of the wiggley and bendy," Gaudi's journal for 1932 reads, "but I fear I shall never work again, because that woman's incessant nagging has driven me to distraction. Also, I live in apartment building of my own design, and it's real trippy." She once apprehended Salvador Dali at a cocktail-and-Vienna-sausage party, and slammed him against the mantlepiece, screaming "HEY! Skinny-moustache boy! What the fuck are the drippy clocks all about? Why don't you and Gaudi move into a drippy apartment, put your stupid drippy paintings on the wall, and assfuck each other until you both drip?" This inspired Dali's famous quote, "The only difference between myself and a madman is that a madman would hack that cunt to pieces with a dull machete." Sometimes, she has been capable of inspiring artists in other fields. The rape scene in "A Clockwork Orange" being a prime example. However, she has learned that writers are more accepting of her style of musing, since they are all drunkards. Probably the pinnacle of her influence on the great writers was her unrelenting torment of J.D. Salinger until "Catcher in the Rye" was completed. He's been hiding from her ever since, although she did track down Thomas Pynchon once and tell him that "Gravity's Rainbow" was "a boring piece of shit." And so, friends, this is why I write. Because I know that, like the… oh fuck. She just got home. It's finished, dear.
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