SIR, — Both my husband and I are writers. Can anyone suggest
why our jobs strike friendi as being screamingly funny? 'Written any good books lately? Ho, ho ho!' they ask him. The answer' is yes (he has), but he is too modest to make it.
The usual quip to me (I write for women's magazines) is, 'Done any more of your trashy little bits? He, ,he, he!' My stock answer to this is, 'Well —I'm still eating !' The acid in my voice, I know, surprises them..
I suppose nothing is work if you do it at home. Even . if you are careful to refer to the rabbit hutch Where you tap away as your `office.' If we're going to be' sensitive about it I suppose we should each rent a room elsewhere and set off at nine sharp, bearing briefcases, As far as I can gather musicians and artists (perhaps comparable?) aren't Considered roaring jokes. Also, now I come to think of it, 'don't stagger • up to a bricklayer and, amidst. my -guffaws, ask if . he has laid any good bricks lately. Neither,do• 1 Jean, my shaking torso on the grocer's counter while I manage to get out, 'Are you still selling Your .trashy butter?'
Please, what's the answer?-4Yours faithfully, •
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