Is Writing Work?
By Jael McHenry | September 7, 2020 |
I’m tempted, of course, to make this the shortest Writer Unboxed post in history. (“Is writing work? Yes.” Done!)
Writing is work. Hard work, sometimes. Frustrating and challenging and exhausting, yes, those too, all too often. It’s work because we sometimes get paid for it; it’s work even when we don’t. It’s work because it takes genuine effort, thought, focus. It’s work because it isn’t play.
Except, of course, when it is.
Have you ever had a work in progress you love so much, it feels like play? Like you genuinely can’t wait to sit down and dive in, to discover where the story and the characters are going? Like your imagination gets to go hog wild, and you’re just along for the ride?
Writing is still work then, but it’s also play, and it’s glorious.
Another temptation: I’m tempted to say that if your work in progress doesn’t feel like that, then you’re writing the wrong story. However! There are times during every single book I write where it feels like a long, hard slog. Like hard work. Like I want to give up. (Sometimes I do give up, even; it never sticks.) And every single time, the book has turned out fine. Better than fine. It’s always work I’m proud of when it’s done. Even if, during the process, there were times I thought I’d rather kickbox with the Rock than tackle a particularly snarly chapter.
So what makes the difference between writing that’s work and writing that’s both work and play?
Personally, I don’t know the answer. For me, it’s not about genre, though I will say I’ve been feeling it more lately, in the new genre I’m writing in. (My pseudonym keeps busy!) It isn’t about whether or not the book is under contract — the pressure I put on myself generally feels worse than any deadline pressure, at least so far. And it isn’t entirely about the stage of the work, though the words certainly come faster in the early writing than the later, get-it-right revision stage.
I think it has more to do with alchemy. When all the right factors are present — the story is there, the words are flowing, even the problems are interesting problems — the work of writing becomes a work-play hybrid. You get out of your mind and into the story. You let go of the work and somehow, it makes you work harder.
Q: What makes your writing work feel more like play?
Jael McHenry is the debut author of The Kitchen Daughter (Simon & Schuster/Gallery Books, April 12, 2011). Her work has appeared in publications such as the North American Review, Indiana Review, and the Graduate Review at American University, where she earned her MFA in Creative Writing. You can read more about Jael and her book at jaelmchenry.com or follow her on Twitter at @jaelmchenry.
Hi Jael,
This is a timely post for me. Writing is work. It’s work we love but work just the same. You said you were tempted to say that when a work in progress doesn’t feel glorious you might be writing the wrong story. This is something I’m wrestling with now. To the point where I am beginning to believe I am in the wrong genre altogether. Though for you it’s not about the genre, I wonder if you believe it’s possible one can perhaps grow out of their genre? Or is it just plain loss of interest in the genre. This is what I’m questioning for myself. Is it the genre that is stalling me or the wrong story? Should I stay (in the genre) or do I go? And where do I go from here?
You’ve given me something to think about on this Labor Day as others enjoy one last carefree weekend.
Thanks so much!
Hey Jael, I can’t be reminded of this enough. Yes, there are slogs. But I got into this because I freakin’ love it. It’s my dream job, and always will be (regardless of the financial side, lol).
Happy Labor (at-what-you-love) Day!
Love this post, Jael. This work in inherently playful because it’s a life of the imagination. It’s also work because the very translation of the imagination into something tangible for others requires a precision of language that doesn’t always come easily. That itself is a puzzle that can at times be very, very hard to achieve, yet, how blessed we are to work on what we love. It truly is a labor of love.
I worked in corporate America for years. Other than a paycheck, all of the goals were someone else’s. When I’m writing the goals are all mine. I think that’s why it feels like play.
For me the initial exploration and expansion of the idea is the most exciting, play-like part of the process. Once I get into the details, the rewriting of the details, the hyperfocussed checking of the details… that’s when it’s work.
The bit where I feel like retiring from the job entirely is usually somewhere in the first two drafts.