Do You Really Want to Be a Writer?
By Jim Dempsey | January 14, 2020 |
When people ask what I do and I say I’m a novel editor, they tell me they’d love to write a book some day, once the kids are grown up, when they have more time, or if only they were good enough.
Some people have already given up trying. They say, ‘I suppose if I really wanted to write I’d have done it by now.’
But that’s just another excuse. That argument assumes we all fall naturally into what we want to do, when in fact it’s much more natural to find an excuse not to do it.
We all makes excuses. It’s a part of what we do. And the first step to making a commitment to finally writing that book is to recognize the excuses and to stop them getting in the way of your dreams.
Writing is an adventure
Inventing excuses is your mind’s way of protecting you, from keeping you from taking risks or using up too much precious energy. In evolutionary terms, that makes sense, but the excuses your mind invents can also keep you from enjoying some of life’s greatest adventures, of which writing a book is surely one.
Writing a book can be a hugely rewarding experience full of discovery (of your characters and yourself), creativity and imagination. You can someday experience the thrill of seeing your name in print, and it can even – if you’re talented, hard-working and can find a touch of luck – lead to fame and fortune.
In fact, many people are inspired to write by well-known authors, those who have already made the journey. The life of a published author is an appealing one to many people. They see it as days of daydreaming in a picturesque cottage, dressed in pajamas, intermittently hammering out perfect prose when the muse strikes.
In other words, many people like the idea of being an author but they might not like the reality of that life.
Writing a novel takes a lot of time, and that’s time you could be using to pursue other things that are important in your life. It takes commitment as you need to sit down and write regularly, even when you don’t feel like it. You will suffer rejection and even harsh criticism from strangers and possibly even friends and family too.
And some of those excuses might be legitimate reasons why you can’t write.
Maybe you really want a yacht, or to finally become regional manager, or to pay off the mortgage on your house, then working a 60-hour week to achieve that won’t leave a lot of time to write a book.
Maybe your parents are getting frail and need more care, or your children are struggling at school and could use some extra attention right now, or you’re having problems in the relationship with your partner, then taking precious hours out of your day to write a book won’t be a priority for you.
Or maybe you’d rather concentrate on learning to play piano, or getting a great physique, building your own company or any one of a million other goals. Then great. Go for it. Just make sure you’re doing what you really want to do and not avoiding your true goals by pursuing something else.
Test your commitment to writing
So how can you tell the difference between an excuse and a legitimate reason? How can you tell if you are someone who loves the idea of being an author with someone who really wants to be an author? There is one simple question that can help.
Whatever your dream, there is one question you should ask yourself before committing to it. For potential authors, it’s the one question that will find out if you really have what it takes to write a book. Answering this one question honestly will help you determine whether you genuinely want to be a writer or if you simply enjoy the idea of being a writer:
Are you prepared to suffer?
The idea of the tortured author might be clichéd, but writing a novel takes a lot of painstaking work.
You will have to give up precious time with your family and friends to write a book that maybe no‑one will ever want to read. And if anyone does read it, they might hate it and tell you so and tell you that you cannot write, that this goal you’ve been pursuing for months, maybe even years, has been pure fantasy.
You will have to commit to writing regularly, ideally every day, including your birthday, your children’s birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas Day, New Year’s and any other hungover, flu-filled, team-in-the-finals or just a regular can’t-be-bothered day. If you balk at the thought of having to write on any of those days, then maybe you don’t really want to be a writer.
As George Orwell said, ‘Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.’
If writing is what you really want to do and you’re prepared to go through that struggle, then now is the time to make that commitment to write, and if you really are prepared to suffer then it will be so much easier to keep that commitment.
What kind of excuses get in the way of your writing? How do you overcome them? How do you maintain your commitment to writing? How do you suffer for your writing? And what makes it all worth it?
Jim Dempsey (he/him) is a book editor who specializes in detailed analysis and editing of novel manuscripts through his company, Novel Gazing. He has worked as an editor for more than 20 years. He has a master’s degree in creative writing and is a professional member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading and is a trustee of the Arkbound Foundation. Jim is fascinated by the similarities between fiction and psychotherapy, since both investigate the human condition, the things that make us uniquely human. He explores this at The Fiction Therapist website. If you have a specific concern with your novel, send an email to jim [at] thefictiontherapist.com, or visit the website to ask for a free sample edit. You can follow Jim on Instagram @the_fiction_therapist.
What makes writing worthwhile to me is the process itself. I would totally still do it even if I never get published. It’s my mode of self expression and I can’t imagine ever feeling fulfilled without it.
Yeah, there are some days that I find it hard to get into the mood, but then I try to remind myself of the mind-blowing satisfaction that I always feel, even after just 20 minutes of writing.
Seems like you’ve gone past the point of suffering, Mary Ann, and managing to make writing fulfilling. I’m sure that will come across in your work and readers will appreciate every word.
All the best.
Jim
Jim, excellent points (and how they do hit home). Thinking about writing scares me to death. Writing with pen or on keyboard restores me to health, and always has, regardless of the quality of what comes out. Persistence in the face of predictable suffering is the key.
Here’s an immediate question: I clicked on The Fiction Therapist link above and found that the domain had expired. Next?
I had the same experience with Dempsey’s web links being expired.
Dear Michelle. Thanks for your interest. The main website link is still OK: https://novelgazing.org
Feel free to have a look there, and I’ll get the Fiction Therapist site up and running as soon as I can.
Sorry for the broken link.
Jim
I love it: “Persistence in the face of predictable suffering is the key.”
That’s it exactly.
As for the broken link, I’ll get the entire digital division on it right away. Should be restored soon. In the meantime, you can always visit my main editing services website of novelgazing.org.
Jim
When people tell me (and they often do) that they have a great book idea or I should write a book about them or they plan on “writing a book someday,” it makes me think uncharitable thoughts involving hand grenades.
But when they start saying things like “I know my book will become a bestseller,” or “I would only do it for a six figure advance,” that’s when my head explodes.
For most of us here, writing isn’t a hobby or a side hustle or something we do when we retire. It’s a sick, pathetic compulsion. We have dedicated our lives to honing this craft. I have hidden in my car on holidays in order to meet deadlines. I have lost paying work to finish books. I didn’t choose to become a writer; it chose me.
So, no. As encouraging and supportive as I am of fellow authors who’ve paid their dues, I find my patience running thin with amateurs that blithely assume the whole world is waiting for their deathless prose.
Show some respect, people. Just because you can strap on a pair of ice skates, that doesn’t make you Brian Boitano.
If that means I’m not a nice person, I accept that.
But I have true love for brilliant storytelling and the idea that we, as writers, can take a reader somewhere even Hollywood blockbusters can’t go—inside a character’s head. We conjure worlds with our words. We fail and rise again.
That’s worth something.
I’d say you were a very nice person, Stacey, telling it exactly like it is, and so eloquently too.
Writing is certainly a commitment, and a compulsion, and that means — like everything else — taking the good with the bad.
I wish you all the best with it.
Jim
And don’t you love it, Stacey, when someone burbles about their “great idea for a book” which you will write and then split the profits with them?
HELP ME to be a better, more understanding person. I never know how to respond to that. Do you? If so, I’m taking notes. So sorry this has happened to you as well.
After suppressing all the snark that comes to mind (which can take a while), “Thanks; I’m fully occupied for the next long while, but I think you are the perfect person to write that book yourself” and then make a quick getaway under any pretext. (This maneuver is not guaranteed.)
For me, writing is not a struggle. It is one thing I do NOT struggle at. It causes me no more anguish than buttering toast or popping a cork.
No, the problem is not writing but life, pesky life. Things need doing. I am supposed to be a dad. My dog likes to chase a ball in the snow. The car is gasping for fuel. Oh, the inconvenience!
But wait…without life there are no stories, so hmm. I guess it’s a balance. Maybe it’s all good?
Ha! You immediately sprang to mind when I read the part about accepting the struggle, Benjamin. I guess that means your lessons/themes here in the comments about gratitude for your writing time and seeking balance have taken root in my writerly psyche.
Thanks, Jim–your post gives me heart and even a reason to pat myself on the back as I start a new year of writing.
Well said, Vaughn. Gratitude for the time you can actually spend writing is important, to appreciate those moments when you can finally do what you really want to do.
And you captured it perfectly, Benjamin, that we need that struggle in life — if not with writing — to give us the stories we love to read, and write.
Cheers.
Jim
From a kid with a scrubby pencil to a young adult with a brand new fountain pen and pristine notebook, I have always written something. ‘The Book’ did not materialize until I was in my 60s, due to life, lack of experience but most of all lack of confidence in myself. Now in my 70s, I have nine books under my belt, the tenth in progress with plots and outlines for two more.
Each book has been a struggle as I still have that little demon hovering in the background. Along the way, I have met fantastic people who have helped me to learn the craft of writing and encouraged me to continue.
Each time I write The End, I breathe a sigh of relief and think never again. But then the voices in my head start up and off I go again with a new set of characters, new plots, new everything. Then someone says ‘You wrote that book? I loved it!’ and every word I have struggled to put on the page is worth it.
What a wonderful story, Victoria. Maybe the question should be: are you prepared to persevere?
Well done in getting over your fears and gaining the confidence. It clearly must show through in all those books to get such enthusiastic feedback.
Good luck with books 10, 11, 12 …
Jim
Jim, sorry I’m late. Tech problems. Your post is great. Bottom line: I was born to be a writer, whether I have major success or just the feeling of completeness when a passage clicks, or I read some page and wonder: wow, did I write that? I once called writing “the joyful burden”. Because I have to write. My desk is littered with notes. My iPhone is full of them. Ideas come and go, I pursue. I always will. Writing is Me.
I think it’s fantastic, Beth, that you can see this burden as joyful. Of course, writing can be incredibly rewarding, so it really is a gift to be born with something that can be so fulfilling. And great too that you can be so productive.
All the best.
Jim