Christopher Brummel was a writer.
He hated writing.
If he had any advice for young creative people with talent, it was this.
Don’t do what you love for money.
People who needed writers; Film Directors, Film Producers, Studios, Book Publishers, Advertising Agencies and their conservative clients whose every waking hour was spent maniacally thinking about chocolate, salami, banking apps, underwear and other things no one cared about, had a way of slowly chipping away at your soul and your enthusiasm, piece by piece, until all you were left with was the empty wrapper your soul and enthusiasm used to be packaged in, discarded behind a couch that smelt like a mixture chocolate, salami, underwear, and banking apps.
Writing became work. Work being something everyone has to do, but no one wants to do.
At 6.38 am on a cold morning, after being up since 4 am pacing through his small but very expensive house on the coast, Christopher Brummel quit writing.
The first person to hear his news was his dog. Stanley.
“I’ve had enough Stanley. I’m going to apply for a job on a Fishing Trawler. I’m going to live a life at sea, meet people, travel the world, lift heavy fish bins and do proper physical work, like we’re biologically designed to do.”
Stanley scratched behind his ear, looked at Christopher and said “Although I’m happy to see some passion, have you seriously thought this through?”
“No. I haven’t. I’m sick of thinking things through. I’m doing it!”
“Then kudos to you my friend. I’m very happy for you” said Stanley, then cleaned his anus.
Stanley was, of course, right. Christopher knew he hadn’t thought this through.
Stanley was part Husky, so had a confidence. A confidence that made him think he was better and smarter than most living things. It was a confidence which most other things read as arrogance. But Stanley was loyal. And although he was brutally honest, and yes, maybe a little arrogant, he loved Christopher and was as loyal to him as working bees are to their queen.
Christopher took his dogs advice, lit a cigarette, and thought through the consequences of quitting writing for a life at sea.
He mentally drew up a pros and cons list in his head.
Cons –
1. Life for six weeks at a time without Stanley (six weeks being the amount of time that the factory ships were at sea.)
2. Nothing else.
He thought briefly of the pros but got bored and decided to masturbate. He never masturbated in front of Stanley. When Christopher had the urge to jerk-off he would go to his bedroom and shut the door so Stanley couldn’t see. Christopher preferred that his smart, confident, arrogant, part Husky didn’t know what he was doing.
When Stanley was with other Huskies he’d meet on his walk, he’d tell them how Christopher closed the door to his bedroom when he jerked off. The other dogs would all bark with laughter, and share stories about the masturbatory habits of their owners.
Other breeds dogs tried to share their own stories with the Huskies, but the Huskies would walk away because they weren’t interested in the masturbation habits of anyone who didn’t have a Husky.
The Huskies said that Stanley should write a book one day about his life. He pondered this and thought “Who knows? Maybe I will”
Christopher Brummel did go to sea. He called all the Film Directors, Film Producers, Studios, Book Publishers, Advertising Agencies and their conservative clients and told them they were untalented, fat, assholes.
He knew he was burning bridges, but they were bridges he never wanted to walk across again.
He left Stanley with a foster home and started a new life as a fisherman.
The boat he worked on was a Norwegian boat called the “Ottar Birting.”
On board he met Karoline. She had classic Norwegian beauty and liked sunbeds, something he was surprised to find the Norwegians were oddly obsessed over, most likely due to a lack of sunshine in the winter.
Christopher and Karoline were married.
Christopher couldn’t believe his luck. In New Zealand he was considered average looking – not unpleasant to look at, but he didn’t garner much attention when he walked into a room.
Unfortunately, Christopher mistook Karoline’s interest in him.
What he thought was a classic sea-faring romance, was Karoline wanting New Zealand citizenship. Mainly so she could be closer to Australia and have more sunlight hours during the winter.
When she became an official citizen of New Zealand with the eye catching and well-designed passport all New Zealanders possess, she moved to The Gold Coast and their “marriage” fell apart.
At this low point, Christopher questioned whether burning the bridges between him and the Film Directors, Film Producers, Studios, Book Publishers, Advertising Agencies and their conservative clients was a move that may have been a bit, rash.
He missed Stanley, his loyal, smart, and arrogant part Husky.
Stanley thought of Christopher, but only occasionally.
His life had gone from good to great after he wrote a memoir that was a worldwide best seller. The publishers were already aware that emotional stories about pets who were abandoned or lost were certain to make money, and almost certain to appeal to the God of book sales, Oprah Winfrey.
A life story written by the animal that was abandoned? It was a publisher’s financial and movie rights wet dream!
A bidding war ensued and Penguin Publishing eventually had the deepest pockets.
The audio version was doing even better because people now preferred to listen to books in their cars. This phenomenon frustrated Stanley. The fact that people were forgetting how to read was a subject he wrote about in an essay for The New York Times, but no audio version of the essay was produced, and no one reads anymore, so not many people knew about it.
Stanley didn’t care. He was living a good life from the royalties he received from his memoir.
Poor, alone, and with an empty refrigerator, Christopher regretted quitting writing. He tried to rebuild the bridges he had burnt with Film Directors, Film Producers, Studios, Book Publishers, Advertising Agencies and their conservative clients - the ones he had called untalented, fat, assholes. And although they were indeed untalented, fat, assholes, he learned that somethings were better left unsaid, and that if your best friend is part Husky never give them up for adoption.
Stanley’s other part was Kelpie.
But that’s a whole other story.
One day while looking for an audio book to listen to in his car, Christopher came across a book with Stanley on the cover. It was called “BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.” It was critically acclaimed, and had positive reviews, Oprah Winfrey stating “…the intimate nature of the writing is confronting, uncomfortable, but always hilarious - one particular chapter springs to mind. A chapter on the masturbatory habits of the authors owner.”
Christopher and Stanley never talked or saw each other again.
Christopher did write his story as a warning to people not to act irrationally and to think things through.
He thought that Oprah Winfrey would love the lessons about life that it told.
He got rejection letters.
He posted on his Facebook page that Oprah Winfrey was an untalented, fat, asshole.