Résumé (Because These Days, Who Can Afford A Wife?)

(image courtesy Robert Drozda (dr.Ozda))

(The following is what happened when I sat down to write my résumé.)


Experience (See, Go Through, Undergo, Feel):

You will have to come to my house to see evidence of what I have done since I quit my last paycheck.  You should have seen the yard when we moved in, a sorry patch of dirt and weeds but now, a lush green cave.  Listen to the watery sound of the bamboo leaves blocking out the noise from the street.  Have you ever seen a Japanese paper plant so shining and alive?  That the horsetail has not invaded the neighboring beds is a testament to my vigilance.

Having two kids has been quite an experience.  As additional evidence, I invite you to sit in our living room for one day; you will see our children’s bedroom door open in the morning to emit the daily tidal flow of flotsam and jetsam.  See how I beat it back every day like Sisyphus, never tiring.  And look at that spot on the floor in front of the kitchen sink, the place where my feet have worn the wood.

Every spare moment is spent there in that chair, writing.  Look how the shape of my body has left a permanent imprint in the upholstery.


Skills (Ones That Don’t Come in Bullet Points or Sentences That Begin With Verbs Muscular & Vague):

My soul feeds on beauty and clarity.  I will do it and re-do it and do it again until I get it right.  I’m mildly obsessive-compulsive.  I’ll go anywhere in my head, anywhere, and I can dwell in thought for hours at a time. I can feel the rhythm of a sentence.  I have a knack with words and catchy titles.  If I loved you once, I will love you forever.  I don’t need to be in the spotlight but I’m happy to offer support.  I tell the truth.  I arrive early.  I come bearing gifts.   I listen.  I am quiet and solitary and I don’t require much, like a cactus.


In addition to the regular school thing, I have read many books.  I also ask questions.



Look at my thriving children.  Taste this food.  Read my writing, which should speak for itself.  Ask my husband, my mother, and my friends.

About Anna Fonté

Girl in the Hat, aka Anna Fonté, is an author who writes about invisibility, outsider status, everyday monsters, and her attempts to befriend the neighborhood crows. The things she writes want you to look at them.


  1. seriously, anna, how about whatever a newspaper column is these days, or is that a blog?

  2. Lovely piece, really enjoyed reading it, got such a good sense of you from a few words – get back in that chair and write some more!

  3. kathleen

    Count me among your trusty references.

  4. I second that “doing it for free” line. I’m amazed by how much work I do online with my blogs, which I’ve taken to calling “sites” because I’ve noticed how some people’s noses turn up when I mention that other word. (?!) I do all this for free, it’s the most thoroughly researchable skill on what passes for my resumé, and yet so far it doesn’t seem to mean much.

    I understand this version of your resumé, Anna, and I see so many of your strengths in it. I wish everyone could.

    • Excellent idea about the term– I too notice a smirky thing happen sometime when I say “blog” (and it is a nasty word, isn’t it?) so I’ll have to copy you. We could call it an “online magazine,” too, couldn’t we? “Weekly virtual literary publication”? And say it with a pinched and professional face? Tee heeee!

  5. elma

    That’s a nice resume that feels and sounds the truth of the person who wrote of what she is and what she does. No need for additional references. Thank you really what you share and readers like me really appreciate your gift. I read lots of books but your articles are always refreshments that are not found in books published. Keep your optimism because if the world changes (and it is changing) you will be the first to be rewarded. And even if you do not seek glory, you may be an actress for this change. The daydreams are still one thing that nobody can take away(hopefully).

    • I’m beginning to really know what I’ve always pretended to know, that writers don’t get paid a living wage and unless they have day jobs that afford writing time or find themselves a good old fashioned patron/patroness, they’ll have to stop writing eventually. But still, still, I’m going to pretend/hope/write some more, I’m going to put my fingers in my ears and hum and behave as though things are different because I just can’t help myself. Thank you for your (always) heartwarming response!

  6. Love your words and you

  7. This was such a gorgeous post somehow, so real and descriptive as mumonhomework up there says!
    ‘See how I beat it back every day like Sisyphus, never tiring.’

  8. Carol Lovekin

    Writers ought I feel, be allocated a free wife… a lover perhaps (a lover of housework & one who doesn’t feel put upon.)

    The words attach themselves, like gorgeous goose grass. There is nothing we can do; & it doesn’t matter.

    You write beautifully.

    • Absolutely! Someone feathering the nest. A partner to prop us back up when we start listing. Really, one can’t put a price on that kind of support.
      Three nice words at just the right time– Invaluable! Thank you!

  9. Marry me! I’ve got three scruffy kids and a backyard full of rock and weeds. My kitchen is spotless but the rest of the house looks like a tornado hit it, so there will be plenty of work for a woman with your resume.

    Though after reading this, I really just want to keep you at your desk.

  10. Based on that resume, I’d hire you — to write!

  11. Oooh, Anna, I love this. If this came across my desk I’d hire you… but then, I doubt anyone would ever put me in a position to hire people. ;b

  12. aubrey

    I want to meet you, your family, your home.

    • And me, you. Is everything steampunk at your house? Do you really look like a drawing by Beardsley? Isn’t it strange to be interested in fellow bloggers but never see their faces?! (Love the post about the book group, by the way.)

      • aubrey

        We don’t feature steampunk decor here, but I will admit that I do have my own bustle skirt. A full Victorian walking dress (no goggles, please) would seem to be the next step.

        Sadly, I don’t feature long ringlets or feathers. But that’s all I’ll say! (I hope you were wearing a moss-green gown and fabulous hat when you wrote this wonderful post?)

  13. Your blogs give me a lot of pleasure. Art, yes, a lot of art we give away – we give so that others may have a few minutes of joy or contemplation in this busy crazy new world of ours. We make art because we have to.

  14. I must have dyslexia. Everytime I see the word Sisyphus, I read syphilis. Don’t ask me what I read when I see the word dyslexia.

  15. This reads like lyrical poetry to me. I love the references in particular. In a very low, frustrated moment I told my husband I need a house. I wanted to walk away from our current rustic lifestyle. But then I thought, how would I define myself if I was not a forest dweller? How would my writing change if I lived in an apartment in the city? I love that you include your writing in your references. Too many times we define ourselves by what is outside us, what we do, rather than who we are. I think writing a resume like this should be a writing exercise.

  16. Nice writing. Really liked the phrases: “the watery sound of bamboo” and the “daily tidal flow of flotsam and jetsam”….and the garden sounds lovely….environments are important for writers

  17. Todd

    Yes, that’s it. Clarity. My soul feeds on it now too. Those are the right words, you have it. The older I get, the more need it… have to have it. It’s become a primal urge. And it tastes good, cool glass of water in a scorching heat. When I was younger I wanted adventure, sensation. Now that’s a bore, I just want to know. I want to tear away tradition, fable, conception. I want to see clearly the way things are, the way it works, who people are.

    I need to work but I can’t. I’ve been working for 30 odd years, and I have to. I have a wife and a kid that don’t. But I sit at my desk and my mind races away into the wilds. I can go anywhere in my head, anywhere, and I can dwell in thought for hours too. And it’s so beautiful, it’s fascinating. it’s exploding with revelation and possibility. Damn it. I’ve got to get my shit together and make some sales. I’ve got to get back on track and focus. I love them. They need me. She buys lotto tickets and I laugh. She could win tho. Then my mind would be free. I could race with the wind, so fast!

    • Beautiful words! My man is doing what you’re doing. And buying his weekly lottery ticket; he says its just as good as therapy but costs less. He’d make a wonderful stay-at-home dad but we both know that I couldn’t earn half of what he does with my skill set and we want to raise our children. And I’m looking at job postings now, not desperately yet but diligently, sending out my resume here and there. Sad. But that’s what adults do, right? They learn to take care of others.

      I started writing when I got pregnant with my first child. I think physical/psychological limitations might actually enrich one’s interior life.

      You’re clearly a writer. Todd. Where can I find your writing?

  18. Todd

    Thanks for that Anna. Sometimes I can’t believe what I’ve gotten myself into. I was single for so long. Sometimes I stress so hard I think my head will split open. Sometimes I want to go backwards… summer days, motorcycle to the beach, girl laughing in my ear. Not a care, not a plan, just the breeze and her eyes, her beautiful eyes and the warm sand. Sometimes I want to rush ahead. I’m done, they’re alright. It’s not on me and I can breath, explore again, feel time, feel a moment. Then I come through the door and melt. Yesterday is today, tomorrow can wait. It’s her brown eyes, her laugh, she’s here, now. My boy, my beautiful, amazing boy. All my dreams converge back to this place, this time. I’m home, they’re all that matters. I don’t deserve this. I’m just so lucky.

    Thanks again for listening, this helps. I’m not a writer, just another salesman in the material world.

    • I think every thinking person has these feelings once in awhile. Especially when the kids are young–the highs and lows are much steeper. Thank you for your empathy and your lovely comments.

  19. Lee

    It seems we’ve inhabited a similar world at one point. Your résumé reads like the hundred thousand I’ve written, between working on the one I currently use that took two years to write. And god how exacting, diplomatic, dry, aloof and controlled it is – but it never bows. It knows what they want the most and holds it back. What a cruel bastard I can be. The hundred thousand, the one’s that would pick an employer up by their eyebrows, the ones that take a few minutes to write, those get deleted after a few days of sitting in draft from. They’re records of truth and frustration. They have sections like, “What the people said” or “Why I’ll never be a team player”, where I set about destroying the basis for friendship, capitalism, employees and civilisation itself in three sentences or less. They’re angry, sacrcastic, cold, gentle, pleading, honest, cryptic. I did send one or two of those out. It made no difference to my result, if you’re wondering. But you never know, it may work for you. All it did for me was make me more comfortable with being pushed further out, somewhere. There are no road signs so I can’t tell you exactly where this place is.

    Read some of your work on here and it’s good stuff. Keep at it for as long as you want. Best of luck.

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