The Author and Her Therapist by K.Z. Snow
January 1, 2012
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K.Z. Snow is one of the funniest writers around but you wouldn’t know it by her books which are mostly on serious topics. So occasionally I ask her to fly, (no, not that kind) 
so that other readers can get to know the real K.Z. Here’s a side of this writer you seldom get to see:
******************
As you’ve all probably deduced (because really, no matter how hard we try to hide this fact, it remains screamingly obvious), authors are uniquely dysfunctional individuals. We equate creative writing with religious calling, brag about hearing voices in our heads, and take umbrage at . . . well, at just about everything. If we lived during the Inquisition, each of us would soon be the centerpiece of a big-ass bonfire.
We obviously need help. So here’s how I imagine a therapy session would go with a more or less typical writer of m/m romance: female, straight, and a half-bubble off plumb. I’ll call my alter-ego fictitious author Jen der Gyllt. (I used speaker tags below just long enough to get you oriented.)
Jen: Doctor, I’m getting depressed over my writing career.
Dr. Philomena: You mean you’re getting depressed over an oxymoron. Try getting a real career and see how your mood brightens.
Jen: But I have to write. I do! I’ve been driven to tell stories since –
Dr. Philomena [holding up a hand]: Let me guess. Since you were old enough to grasp a crayon. No, wait. Since a past life, when you chiseled unsanctioned and slightly risqué hieroglyphs inside a Valley of the Kings tomb in the 14th century BC.
Jen [squinting]: Are you making fun of me?
Of course not. I’m a professional. So, what’s the problem with your *cough* writing career?
For starters, somebody gave my new release one star on Goodreads.
A gold star?
Actually, it’s red.
Hey, don’t be offended. The color isn’t symbolic; it isn’t like the Scarlet Letter. Gold is difficult to reproduce electronically.
That’s not the point. It was one star.
But isn’t a star good? Like a teacher giving you a foil sticker at the top of a theme paper?
[Glumly.] No, it isn’t good. One is the lowest rating.
So what’s the highest rating?
Five.
Why not eleven?
I don’t know!
Look at it this way: to somebody who thinks eleven is the highest, five sucks. Have you ever seen This Is Spinal Tap?
[Shaking head in dismay.] You just don’t get it.
Then throw something else at me that might stick.
I’ve never had a DIK.
Do you want a dick?
Of course!
[Clears throat.] Uh, Jen, you could have issues that go deeper than a nonexistent career.
I mean I want a D-I-K DIK.
I heard you the first time. Try not to be offended, but one of your problems could be you can’t spell worth a crap. Now, about your gender dysphoria –
I don’t have gender dysphoria! I’m comfortable being a woman . . . although I sometimes feel a little ashamed.
If it’s because you don’t have a dick, maybe you should try a strap-on.
That’s not the reason!
Is your personal hygiene lacking?
No! The reason has to do with certain words that make me squirm.
Like the ones you can’t spell?
I mean words like inauthenticity and appropriation and fetishization.
Well, if you can’t spell “dick,” you certainly can’t spell those.
I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t ridicule my concerns.
Fair enough. [Mutters to self: Let me shoot some staples into my eyes so I’m not tempted to snicker.] Go on.
I’ve never won a contest, either.
Like a pageant?
No, not like a freakin’ pageant.
Ever try entering one? You wouldn’t be bad looking if you dropped a few chair-pounds and got a spray tan. You might even score a cheap tiara. With gold stars. Wouldn’t that make you feel better? You could wear it while you typed.
I don’t want a tiara! Okay, maybe I do. But I mean a writing contest. Or an author popularity contest.
I’ll speak frankly, Jen. You’re not going to win a writing contest until you improve your spelling, and you’re not going to win a popularity contest until you improve your attitude.
[Sighs deeply.] Let me put this in a nutshell.
[Mutters to self.] Don’t even bother trying until you get that dick. Heh.
I’m constantly afraid not enough people like my books, and I worry about offending the GLBTQ community because I’m a privileged cisfemale encroaching on their territory.
[Blinks.] Hokay. . . Excuse me a minute while I jot down some notes. [Scribbles on a legal pad: Client suffers from extreme penis envy. Craves validation through faux-gold stars and contest wins & frets when she does not receive same; is content to neglect health and appearance by leading a largely sedentary, indoor life due to delusions of literary grandeur; has embraced terms & concepts indicative of social conscience, even though they induce profound guilt. Conclusion: inordinately defensive, with juvenile level of ego fragility/insecurity and psychologically masochistic tendencies.]
At this point, Dr. Philomena’s older colleague, Dr. Sandi Shore, walks into the office. Dr. Philomena excuses herself. Dr. Sandi asks to see Dr. Philomena’s notes.
“Ah,” Dr. Sandi says immediately, “it’s obvious your client is a heterosexual woman who writes gay fiction. I believe the APA recently defined a new class of disorder for those people.”
“Well, I’m stymied about what course of treatment to pursue.”
Dr. Sandi shakes her head. “Phil, trust me. Don’t waste your time. Bail out while you can.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
K. Z. Snow is (last time she checked) a woman who writes m/m romance fiction. Her stories refuse to settle into a particular groove. She likes penises very, very much, in part because they are generally more dependable than her ’95 Ford Escort, don’t rust, and don’t require licensing. And, yes, she’s always wanted a tiara. With Swarovski crystals.
twitter: @k_z_snow
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Oh, God, the tears are streaming down my face. This is hilarious!
Thanks for sharing. I’m glad to know I’m not the only wack-a-doodle in the group.
Far from it, Mickie. FAAAAAAAAR from it.
Love it!! I hadn’t realised people had been peeking into one of my counselling sessions …
Anne
xxx
I was that strange fly on the wall, Anne — the one with glasses and graying blonde hair . . . crying, “Help me, help me!” in a very small voice . . . that went unheeded.
Ouch….
that hits true…. 
I don’t know, Feliz. You seem saner than many of us.
Cute. Life is hard for the creative.
Quote George Takei posted today “Creativity takes Courage – Henri Matisse” and probably a good quantity of alcohol and chocolate as well. 
Courage? Nah. Just synapses that randomly misfire.
Happy New Year, fellow neurotics!
Happy New Year too!;)
Though some of us might go farther than neurotic. *coughpsychoticcough*
On the other note, my neuroticism score when I tested for Big Five Personality test was high. That’s how I knew I had a future as a writer.
That was crazy and wonderful stuff……..heres to your mental health!
Thanks, Raine! Especially for the cocktail.
This is hysterical! Thanks for sharing your craziness with the rest of us crazies
happy new year!
I’m sure we all have plenty to go around, Lily!
Thank GOD I pay my therapist enough that she only ridicules me behind my back.
That was HILARIOUS, KZ.
Sadly, my education makes me aware of how much therapists laugh behind the clients back & gossip about them. So, no therapy for me thank you. I’m insane enough as it is. No need for them to add to my insanity. LOL.
I’ve heard that about therapists, Cleon (from friends who know). That’s why I made Dr. Philomena droll and rather jaded.
ANNE!
I prefer to be ridiculed to my face. (Oops. I hope that’s not a case of “be careful what you wish for.” 
)
No dude, seriously, ignorant bliss is the way to go.
Seriously, my therapist and I talk about my plotllines and how they affect my “personal growth”. And okay, yeah, that one time she did bring up gende dysphoria, but she’s also the person who convinced me to write more seriously.
I wonder if I can write off her fees as a business expense…
That was excellent, KZ!
Cheers to a happy and uh… sane new year!
Hiya, L.C., and back at ya!
K.Z.
When I first saw this post I was rolling on the floor – you’re amazing. However my fave is still the dueling penises which you interviewed almost 3 years ago for the blog’s first birthday and here’s a link to remind you:
http://tinyurl.com/4pypymm
Yikes, Wave, how time flies when you’re having breakdowns!
KZ, this is terrific! So, why don’t you write more humorous pieces?!
She only writes them when I beg and plead.
And threaten. Don’t forget threaten.
My therapist said she is buying my book when it comes out. She’s a hoot.
Great post, KZ!
I suspect the only way to be a therapist and keep one’s act together IS to be a hoot. You’re lucky, Sue.
Actually, I’d once considered going back to school for a Master’s in Guidance and Counseling. It took me a while to realize that might not be in the best interests of my potential clients.
I half way finished a Masters in Guidance and Counseling and dropped out. The “touchy-feely” people and I did not connect. I went for a Masters in Criminal Justice instead. I guess criminals are more my speed.
Gah, yeah, the touchy-feely, here’s-your-excuse-on-a-silver-platter types aren’t exactly my cup of tea. I’ve learned from experience that they tend to create either monsters or terminal whiners.
LOL! Have you been snooping inside my head, KZ? I want a DIK too!
If I ever get one, I’ll split it with you, Jo — if the image of a split DIK doesn’t gross you out too much.
I remember seeing some pictures of a split DIK back in the days I used to buy tattoo magazines. It was… uh… painful looking. Oh no, wait, that was a split DICK. Whew – you don’t wanna get those mixed up!
Oh, god I saw some when I was doing research recently (note: do not click on “genital modifications” ever again). That was… how do you even use that?
Right on spot! I keep telling myself that gay men and straight women have at least one thing in common: they both like cock.
Hell yes, Lou. And some of us likely have a lot more in common than that.
Absolutely perfect! When I start therapy I’ll just bring this piece along and she won’t have to charge me for the first 20 minutes.
Hi, Kaje! Shit, just send me those twenty minutes’ worth of compensation. I’ll take it in books. I’m easy that way.
“Jen” has just made my next trip to the therapist so much brighter. I think I ‘ll take along a sheet of mult-colored star stickers along to get the ball rolling. Thanks for the humor.
You’re welcome. But I think you should make a crown for yourself, decorated with those stickers, and walk into the therapist’s office wearing it. Seems like a stronger way of kicking off the session.
Absolutely! I’m on it