The luck of the draw: I get to hang around writers

Writers, as we all know, hate no one more than they hate other writers.

Writers, of course, are all competing for the few million bucks the world spends on writing, the several square feet of column inches worth writing for, the couple hundred pounds worthy books that will be published every year.

And in the case of speechwriters, the two dozen熔ops, there went Harry Stonecipher; make it 23幼lients who are actually interested in communicating with their audiences.

Thus, any roomful of writers, however friendly on the surface, is also a gunfight of watchful glances and dirty looks.

Still, I was reminded this week that, for all their threats to say things better, say better things熔r worse, get more attention謡riters are good party companions.

Two days after Stonecipher's departure, for instance, speechwriter pal Dan Danbom e-mailed his writer pals a headline he'd spent a couple of days working on:

Boeing's Boinking Boss
Booted By Board

To which his correspondent Bob Keyser, typically unable to let another writer have the last word, replied:

Boeing's Boinking Boss
Booted By Board
Bides Bye-Bye

The same day, my newest writer friend, Eileen Burmeister, who works in the PR department at a hospital in Oregon, sent me a fresh quote on writing:

"You know what makes a good writer, Mom? First, a sense of humor, then a little bit of sadness. Kind of like Lemony Snicket."
湧athaniel Burmeister, age nine.

Uh oh. Here comes another one.