by Joe Wallace

I took a new-to-me vehicle out on a cross-country trip last week which combined business and pleasure–I was, among many other things, writing my way from Chicago to Texas at Turntabling.net about indie record stores I found along the way.

The new-to-me vehicle was a Ford Escape that alas, did not come with leather seats. “Who needs leather?” I asked myself, blissfully unaware that the 1000-plus mile journey (one way) would soon take its toll on the writer’s most underrated asset.

There are thousands of books written for writers about every possible topic–markets, career choices, even a few health guides. But as far as I know there is NOTHING dedicated to the care of the freelancer’s arse.

And there’s no situation that calls attention to that fact like a 1000 mile journey from Chicago to San Antonio, Texas. For the first part of the trip, the seat–the Ford’s seat, that is–felt fine. I stopped in Springfield, Illinois and St. Louis on the first part of the trip no worse for the wear. But by the time I got to Oklahoma City, my backside felt battered. Those factory-standard seats weren’t going to make the grade.

I gave in and stopped at an auto parts store and bought a cushion, and that seemed to do the trick…but after 2000 miles I find myself reclining on the couch to write this, aware that I really don’t want to be seated in an upright position anytime soon–say, ten years or so. Read all those other writer sites all you want and take the advice you find, but trust me, the most important thing you’ll learn about writing is all connected to the care and feeding of the human butt.

Wait, that doesn’t sound right.