Short and random, but it occurred to me while I was skimming through YouTube yesterday: Why is it authors don’t have awesomely insane public meltdowns?
I mean, think about it. When atheletes, musicians and actors lose their minds, they do crazy things that, while sometimes terrible, are often fascinating to those among the general public who enjoy train wrecks. They get caught in bizarre sex stings with sometimes inappropriate partners, they go hogwild with drugs and hookers, they go on shoplifting sprees or turn into crazy baboons on Oprah’s couch.
I have not heard of an author behaving this way. Never have I seen candid photos of Neil Gaiman sniffing cocaine off a chainsaw blade. Stephen King apparently doesn’t abuse gay massage artists. There’s no rumours about Bram Stoker being a crossdressing homicidal maniac. At least not since he was cleared of the Jack the Ripper thing, anyway.
Why? What is it about authors who, when given large sums of money, don’t go crazy, while nearly every other famous personality type does?
I don’t know… But it’s going to bug me.