Dan Zevin: Laughter is the Best Paycheck
Not many people look at everyday life experiences as “material” for their work, but when 38-year-old humorist and author Dan Zevin attended Lemaze class with his pregnant wife, all he could think of was, “I wish I were taking notes.”
Zevin has made a successful career out of writing “anti-guidebooks,” his answer to the useless how-to books that he received after graduating from NYU in 1986 with a journalism degree. His books, Entry Level Life (1994), The Nearly-Wed Handbook (1998) and The Day I Turned Uncool (2002), take a personal, yet universal, look at life using first-hand experiences on everything from battling the copy machine at entry level jobs, to the nightmare that is wedding planning, to getting too old to party until 4 a.m.
“Nothing was as we expected with our high hopes and career counseling,” said the lion-maned Zevin with a wide, friendly smile, referring to his post-graduation days, during a guest appearance at an NYU graduate journalism class recently.
In his first book, when an employer asked what he’d been doing since graduation, he thought about responding with, “Groveling before people like you for a job,” in a segment called “Ten Trick Interview Questions.” While he may not have resorted to groveling – much – his success didn’t exactly land in his lap either.
Zevin (who looks younger than he is save for the permanent creases along his forehead, caused, perhaps, by one too many inquisitively raised eyebrows) once dreamed about becoming the editor of Rolling Stone Magazine, thinking that his internship there, along with one at Health Magazine, would give him an edge. But once he left academia, the best gig he could find was as a gear intern at a “geriatric fitness magazine” called Walking. Fittingly, it was a magazine about walking. Soon Zevin found himself up to his ankles in running shoes and writing not one, but two, articles on poison ivy – a far cry from the life he envisioned interviewing Bruce Springsteen over coffee for Rolling Stone.
Over the five years he spent at Walking magazine, he realized that most of the people he knew were deadlocked in “equally asinine jobs and all living in tiny apartments and dealing with 16 psycho roommates.”
“And when I wasn’t getting really depressed about it, I would write these essays,” explained Zevin in his even-toned, dry humored way. “Then I wondered if there was a book in this.”
So he sent a 35-page book proposal to 50 agents, and the next thing he knew, he had his first book deal. Although the Boston native had already found moderate success writing freelance features for magazines like Rolling Stone (but only after “banging down the door and reminding them I used to get them coffee”), he admitted that it became easier once he’d written a book. Freelance jobs at Glamour, GQ, Details, Maxim and a recent offer from Playboy soon followed. He also admitted that writing first person essays was “a million times easier” than other types of journalism.
But that doesn’t mean that sitting in his home office everyday writing from 9-5 about his life and relationships is a picnic.
“(My wife) hates being written about,” said Zevin, who’s been married for eight years and recently moved to Brooklyn when his wife was transferred to NYC for work. “But no matter what I write, she comes off as the smart one and I’m always the idiot.”
He explained that self-deprecation, along with universality, are the keys to successfully writing first person essays.
The formula has been so successful that after Hollywood execs read about his book in Variety he was asked to write a sitcom pilot, a long process he described as “writing by committee,” but he admitted the pay is “a million times better” than magazine or book publishing.
Despite his growing success, sometimes Zevin fantasized about having a boring, mindless, regular job, especially once the pressure to be better made it a little harder to write, since he “can’t even write my name on deadline.”
In spite of the difficulties of his work, he doesn’t ever want to go back to being a staff writer and is vehemently opposed to reporting on any hard news.
“There’s no one less qualified,” he said with a laugh. “Besides, I’m way too self absorbed to write about anyone else.”
–Natalie Kurz, G ‘03