I mean... "Hi, I'm Sean, and I'm a writer." What else could I possibly say beyond that? It's not like I'm going to tell them that I use the literary approach in order to pick at the essence of humanity, much less start talking about the elements of style, verbiage and denouement.
So I stand there, smiling stupidly at their questions, until they get creeped out by the silly grin on my face and wander off towards the buffet table.
About two years ago, when one of my stories was on the precipice of release by Philippine Genre Stories, I sent the following write-up for accompaniment of the work:
Sean is a writer, a manager, a critic, a conceptualist, a strategist, and a logician. While this doesn't mean that he'll try to force square pegs into round holes, it won't stop him from looking for something that will actually fit. For that matter, it also won't stop him from asking why the pegs are square, or why the holes are round, or why the sun is bright, or why the sky is blue. This is why Sean never gets invited to polite gatherings, you see.
A good write-up should have certain qualities associated with it. For starters, it should help clarify the identity of the author, and give an idea as to the background from which he sourced his/her story. It should grant an impression of what the author aims to do with his work, and perhaps include any current honors or future aspirations. All in all, it should leave readers to feel as though the writer has become a small part of their lives.
I break these rules for no particular reason, and in fact, I don't know why. My write-ups are given to vague, unmeaningful ramblings that serve little purpose other than to weird people out. The fact that they're usually accompanied by a photo of a stuffed penguin does not help matters.
I'm still using the infamous penguin photo, mind you, which happens to be the same one that I use on both my Blogger and Multiply sites. I'm using it again when another one of my stories comes out in a forthcoming issue of Philippine Genre Stories.
For the record, the write-up that I handed in for this new work reads as follows:
Sean Uy is a writer, an analyst, a mathematician, and a . He fantasizes about playing the saxophone, collects , and observes the collective strangeness of this planet's inhabitants. He occasionally comes up with short stories like this one, which will probably earn him another visit to the local psychiatrist once his family finds out.
No, it still doesn't say anything substantial. If it's supposed to make me feel like a member of the reader's family, I'm likely to be the Weird Uncle Who Makes Funny Armpit Noises.
Somehow I'm thankful that the story is a lot longer than the write-up itself. Hopefully people will dwell on those two thousand words long enough to politely ignore the write-up at the end. Or perhaps the shorter work would lose out in a battle of normal deviance.
Besides, you're reading this blog. That means that you already have an idea as to what kind of person I am, right? That means that you can enjoy the story without necessarily having to figure out that little bit of strangeness at the end, right?
...Good. If you need me, I'll be right over there by the buffet table. I hear that they have an excellent selection of cheeses today.