Of all homo sapiens, the kind which is considered the strangest by many is the writer. There are several breeds within this odd species, known as the itchy-foot, the closet, the desk-bound, and the wanna-be. Each breed can be recognized by several unique characteristics.

Among the writers, the itchy-foot writer is the most likely to be seen on a daily basis, as their nature forces them out of their dens in constant search of inspiration and atmosphere. Common places to see these creatures are around cafes or at the bases of trees, though a rare few are known to roost in the upper branches as to avoid human contact.

This is a mostly silent breed, with the exception of the occasional humming or mutterings as they work on the seemingly endless projects their species are known for. One should show great caution when approaching the itchy-foot, as they are prone to be highly temperamental when bothered.

Of any of the four breeds, the differences between the male and female itchy-foot are by far the most numerous. Unlike birds, the male itchy-foot is often less decorated than their female counterparts, making it more difficult to pick them out from other human males. Some signs that can aid in recognizing one of these is the ever-present laptop and usual lack of a cell phone. While this is not a constant, itchy-foot males will often also have slightly longer hair than the average length.

The female itchy-foot is much easier to recognize. Those who have long hair often tie it into a bun to keep it out of the way. The long haired female itchy-foot will often use their hair to store their writing tools, especially the pen and pencil. Both long and shorthairs will use their ears as tool storage as well. These will often adorn themselves with dark or loose clothing.

In general, both male and female itchy-foot writers will rarely be seen without at least one notebook and a writing tool at hand.

Next is the closet writer. This breed is much more difficult to find, as they, like the walking stick to a twig, attempt to hide themselves by blending in with other homo sapiens. One has to almost sneak up on one of these creatures in order to catch it in its craft.

Physically, the only differences a watcher may be able to see are the more than common possession of a small notebook, easily hidden by clothes, and the traces of graphite on their fingertips. Otherwise, closet writers are extremely difficult to distinguish from normal homo sapiens.

While simple to recognize, the desk-bound writer is rarely seen outside of its den, preferring to instead work in the safety of their own territory. This breed is often partially nocturnal, keeping hours that will often appear mad to the casual watcher. Many of these can be characterized by strong glasses from hours on end of working close to the paper in a poorly lit atmosphere.

When this breed does venture into the outside world, they often tend to remove themselves from situations in which they would be forced to socialize with other homo sapiens. The exception of their fellow breeds of writers is usually made, save for the wanna-be. Desk-bound writings of both genders tend to be fairly silent until a conversation topic catches their interest, at which point it can be extremely difficult to change said topic.

In their dens, a desk-bound will be prone to wear everything from a bathrobe to formal wear to nothing, while, in public, jeans and a T-shirt or a business suit are not uncommon for this specific breed. Nor is it particularly odd or strange to see their arms, wrists, hands, or any other blank spaces available completely and utterly filled with notes and doodles that may or may not have anything to do with the present situation.

Next, and most dangerous to their fellow writers, is the wanna-be. Like the milk snake to the coral snake, the wanna-be tries to imitate the itchy-foot and the desk-bound. As such, it is often mistaken for a cross-breed. The wanna-be will dress to the extreme in whichever writer fashion it tries to copy at that moment, as though it were a costume.

Rarely will one actually see a wanna-be writer writing, instead spending most of its time preparing to write something that it never does. This breed joins clubs, reads ‘how to’ books and attends conventions more often than working. When an itchy-foot actually stops simply talking about writing for a moment to write, they will often then proceed to distract those of the other breeds by bragging about their meager work rather than attempting to improve it. This behavior keeps the true writer from completing their own projects by forcing them to spend time chasing the wanna-be away from them.

Far more numerous than their cousins, especially in their young, more people notice the wanna-be and therefore, mistaking them for their cousins, shape their opinions of the writer species based on these imitators, making them extremely harmful to the species.

Finally, as quiet as the writer community is in their affairs, it only stands to reason that there are quite a fair number of crossbreeds. These crossbreeds often produce some of the best work, thriving both on true solitude and that which can be found in a crowd. They share many characteristics of the first three breeds, though, at times, one or two from the fourth may show up.

Crossbreeds, right after the itchy-foot, are prone to live longer than the other pure bred breeds. The double life of the closets, and the utter solitude that desk-bounds crave and however briefly thrive on can easily drive the writer to insanity or depression, common hazards to the writer.

Strange as they are, the writer species is a required one for the human race to survive. Even the wanna-be drives the others to work harder in their task of keeping the human mind alive and functional enough for more than simple existence. Without this sadly endangered species, the human race would cease to have a soul, even with the other artist species. After all, a table cannot stand when one of its legs is removed.