WARNING: THIS PIECE IS A REPRIMAND.
Dear Alleged Students of Creative Writing,
Some of you might be surprised to hear from me. I’m the blogger whose essays and poems you’ve been pilfering for the past several months.
You’ve likely garnered for yourself some kind of “passing grade”, using the efforts of those from whose lives you’ve been flat out stealing. But, the back end fee for you will come in its own time.
It’ll arrive in the form of some casual slip.
Never having actually spent any energy writing your own story, you’ll be forced as you move through life to keep some seriously sharp razors. You’ll have to take stock of everything you do and say, sorting through the lies and the truths until you can no longer make such distinctions. You’ll probably resort to escape, in that case; you’ll depend more heavily on products to dull your wits and numb your senses. And, you’ll attract those of like precious faith. The vermin. The bottom feeders.
You might acquire much in the way of material goods, and run with the wealthiest. But, you won’t have developed any real style or character, no definitive brand apart from the trendiest copies. What you think passes for sophisticated will be cheesy, kitschy, been there/done that. You’ll become heavily dependent upon those whose job it is to set the patterns for people like you, the ones who have no creative spark, no ideas, or what has always been recognized as originality.
As time passes, you’ll get frantic, noticing signs of age. You’ll spend all you’ve acquired trying to maintain the illusion of youth. You’ll be a bore, a load, an undesirable. People will pretend to like you, until your money and your luck runs out, and then you’ll do something rash in the hopes of getting caught so that you can spend the last years of your life in a closed room where the meals come three times a day and you sleep until you die.
Just because you chose to sneak your way through a college course on the back of somebody who made her own way in the world – who showed up, never quit, and made an honest wage doing respectable work, honoring her parents gifts by living them out and then writing about it. Somebody who saved money, then bought her own house, her own car, and set about living a life that didn’t prey off of others.
Yes. You’ll sail through the last weeks of finals, on the efforts of those whose lives will have left something of worth behind. I’d wish you good luck, but you don’t deserve my earnest wishes. You’ll get exactly what is coming to you: an empty shell that pretends to be a life.
p.s. if you are reading this site for the first time, do us all a favor; print this post, and distribute it to your English professors. Oh; and, include the blog address: littlebarefeetblog.com
Maybe enough college departments will visit this site, recognize a couple pieces, and catch the little lizards by their tiny little tales.
Thank you very much.
© Ruth Ann Scanzillo