I'm a writer and the ultimate cliche - can't think how to finish this thing I'm doing and I'm on MN.
Writer cliches:
All other people ever ask is how much £ you make (rude) and where you get your ideas from (who knows).
Insanely untidy hair. No way could I have been an accountant. My appalling multi-parting chose my career.
I have been giving up fags for 30 years.
The cat is fat and spoilt.
I am exhausted and cannot read your book.
We are as tolerant as we are touchy. I dumped a lifelong friend cos she published a convo we had as friends when I was in the bath and she was on the loo. Ow, how vulnerable can you get - the bath FGS - I felt violated. Still do.
People's eyes light up when you tell them what job you deliver. That's scary. Writers care about what words they deliver, that's all. I tell everyone I'm an editor (also true but less enticing).
Pyjamas are a historic & glorious literary cliche no decent hack abandons. But - big but - once out blinking into the daylight, we're all remarkably well dressed and clean, just in case someone says something wince-making about scruffy artists.
Writers don't tend to have showy dinner party literary discussions. They gravitate towards each other for the washing up, murmuring over the sink about people and their books, which are sort of interchangeable if you've been there for them from the off.
No writer drinks much, cos you've got to work your arse off in the small hours, and partying gets in the way.
Byron and co were cliches that didn't last long.