I dreamt last night that every coffee shop employed a resident poet. Each resident poet was required to sit at a prominent place in her/his coffee shop and write furiously. Patrons were encouraged to ask the poet poetry questions. Of course, the resident poet was compensated well for her/his talents and expertise.
Your dream for writerkind?
All writers of exceptional fiction are paid at the same rate as baseball players, actors and bank ceo's. Their work is venerated world wide. I get to decide who is exceptional and who is not. . . .
That would be nice, too, MaryAnne! We always complain here at the university I attend that the football coach gets paid way too much (it's at over a mil now)! Well, those of us in the humanities do.
One coach claimed that professors make just as much with royalties from their books. Yeah, we all had a good laugh at that one.
When I taught at the University of Memphis, the new basketball guru, John Calipari, was given a multi-million dollar contract, and we in the English Dept. were using a thirty-year-old "duplicator" to make our copies. Does anyone else remember the smell of that purple ink?
I remember the smell as a kid! I also remember my women's studies profs complaining about how many of the people who had to use the machines were women because they were the sec'y and ofc help. Apparently, that ink was toxic!
I think that ink was a cheap high.
No wonder I was so happy all the time!