We’re going hypothetical today. It’s like a thought experiment on steroids, only if the steroids had themselves had been taking steroids in order to become super steroids on steroids. Or not. Here goes.
Question #1: Let’s say there was a seer who could tell you definitively whether or not you have the talent to be a published writer. Absolute 100% accuracy. But. If the seer person said no, that’s that. Final answer. Would you want to know?
Question #2: If the seer person said no, you don’t have the talent to be a published writer, would you still write?
Nikki Hootman says
Well, first of all, “having the talent to be a published author” is very subjective. Lots of people are published who have very little talent in the opinion of many.
But to answer the question:
1) Yes, I’d want to know.
2) Even if he told me I didn’t have the talent, I’d keep writing. First of all because not everyone has ‘natural’ talent. Some people get there simply by plain old hard work. And some people get there even without talent. But, say, if he told me I’d never be published? I doubt I’d STOP writing, but I probably wouldn’t spend as much time on it as I do now.
Elyssa Papa says
1. Yes, I’d want to know. But then again, I went to a seer five years ago and the seer told me I’d be pregnant with twins and married. And that I’d move to California.
Not one of those things happened…so I don’t believe in them.
2. Yes, because seers don’t get it right all the time.
Betty Atkins Dominguez says
1. yes
2. yes
k says
1-I would cover my ears and say lalalalala I cannot hear you. Why the @#!$* would I want to know that? The point is not the ultimate publication, it’s the journey. Do you know all the experiences I wouldn’t have had, the people I wouldn’t have met had I listened? blpphh.
2-I’ll quit when I have given it my all and finally decide I suck too badly and am taking time and energy away from pursuing what I should be doing. Because obviously writing is not it. Not a second before. And not on anyone’s word. Smart people know within themselves when to try. Smarter people know within themselves when to quit.
Heather Harper says
1. I would not want to know.
2. I would tell said seer to stick it and I’d write anyway.
Anonymous says
1. Yes. If the answer was ‘no’, I could stop wasting time on submissions and spend it writing instead.
2. Yes. I’d probably write at different (currently “unmarketable”) lengths and not worry about plot or resolution. Other than that, it wouldn’t make any difference to me.
(Cheating slightly. I do have stories published, so I already know the seer would answer ‘yes’.)
mpe
Shauna says
I would want to know, and I would still write. I haven’t submitted because I don’t want the pressure (yet) of continuing to write and continuing to write well enough for *other* people, but it would be nice to know if I should ever try and spend time submitting. It might be a big relief if the answer was “no.” Then it wouldn’t matter how crappy my stuff is, as long as it entertains *me* XD
Jared X says
There’s a lot of cheating going on in these responses. Facing your *hypothetically confirmed* lack of talent can only make you stronger!
When a certain “seer” with a clipboard and a whistle told me years ago I would never play pro soccer (curse you, “lack of speed relative to midfielder peers”!), it was a deep bruise to the ego but I was ultimately glad to know. The lack of pressure to get to the next level made the game more fun than it had been in years. I still haven’t stopped playing.
I suspect writing would be a similar experience (without the repeatedly broken ankles).
150 says
1. I’d probably ask. If it was free.
(With the caveat that “the talent to be published” is not “the skill to be published” or even “being published” which we can all agree doesn’t always require talent or skill. I’d have the seer tell me yes or no, WILL you be published.)
2. Of course I’d still write. Sharing a book with just one person is enough to make it worth having written it. Heck, I follow Toni Morrison’s advice and write things I want to read–so writing it for myself is worth the trouble too.
Keri Ford says
Yes, I would want to know.
Yes I would keep writing and seeking publication if I was told no way no how. In the words of my husband, I’m a stubborn A and would do whatever it took to prove the seer wrong.
LeeAnn Flowers says
1. Yes, I would like to know.
2. Yes, I would continue writing. It’s a case of letting the voices in my head out versus actually making money with it.
Just think of the shrink bills I’m saving on by writing. 🙂
Joel Sparks says
I assume we’re talking about publishing a novel, here. So:
1. Hell yes I’d want to know! I do want to know. All the time and pains spent polishing manuscript, query, synopsis, agent list… every hour could be spent doing something else.
2. No, I don’t think I’d write more novels. Plenty of other modes of self-expression out there.
Kathleen says
Yes, I’d want to know, because it would affect how I write. If I WASN’T going to get published, I still would write… but I wouldn’t follow all this industry-related stuff, and I’d ignore the whole issue of deadlines and learning to write one novel a year. I’d just do them for fun, and for my SIL who is VERY impatient for another story.
auria cortes says
Yes. I’d want to know.
No. I wouldn’t write.
Anonymous says
The seer has already said yes to me. That makes it harder when I know I do have it but don’t know how to get it out yet.
Pierre Roustan says
AHA! It has become clear to me…..
I’ve read through everyone’s comments, and it just hit me like a hammer right on my gargantuan planetoid of a head, making perfect sense–it’s simple–
Some have said that there’s no such thing as “writing talent”. Others have said that there very much is “writing talent”, just as much as any other “talent” (music, art etc etc.).
I think the concept is right on both ends of the spectrum. Talent exists specifically because of one’s DESIRE to cultivate it. Without desire, there is no talent.
I strongly believe anyone can be a good writer; but you have to have a desire to reach as far as you can possibly reach. Your desire has to overcome any type of failure life throws at you. ANY type. Your desire has to boil over every second of every day of your life for the rest of your life till the day you die. That desire absolutely has to be quenched. No matter what. And you won’t stop until its quenched.
So when I hear the seer say that I will not get published because I have no talent, not in a million years blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda, what I hear is exactly what one poster said: the Oracle from “The Matrix.”
YOU ARE NOT THE ONE.
If you have enough desire. ENOUGH desire. That single sentence will do exactly what it was intended to do–push you into achieving what your heart wants to achieve. If–and only IF–the seer says to me that it won’t happen, it’ll propel me into making it happen. No matter what. I think the seer would say that for all of us, to be honest.
No talent is for real without the desire to follow it. Follow it all costs.
Angela says
I would thank the seer and with all my newfound extra time I would go be a professional windsurfer or build a log cabin.
Life is way too short to sit cloistered in front of my computer writing words no one will ever see.
Anonymous says
This reminds me of the hypothetical question: Would you want to know when you are going to die?
Answer: no.no.no.
Betty Atkins Dominguez says
After reading some of the responses, I feel the need to add to my two yeses-yes’s(huh?). (mind is befuddled — I’m in Sacramento — for people who follow the news, you know why.)
1. I’d want to hear the seer’s prediction, because I like to know what others think. That’s all. Wouldn’t make a difference.
2. I’ve been writing ever since I can remember… why would I stop just because I would never get published? I write for me.
Kim Stagliano says
No. Which is why I never entered into the Crapometer. Yes. Half the fun would be proving him wrong. Especially that part of the book where a “random” seer gets run over by a bus.
Kristin Laughtin says
#1–Yes, I’d want to know. If the answer was “no”, I might immediately regret asking, but in the long run it’d probably save me a lot of grief associated with never-ending rejections.
(Not even going to address some people’s claims about how much talent is necessary to get published here. We’ll assume, for this thought experiment, that talent and publishability are directly related.)
#2–I’d still write, but maybe not as vigorously and probably not right away. I wouldn’t push myself so hard to write the parts I don’t want to write, or to get things done on a schedule. I’d spend that energy trying to figure out what I am good enough at.
Anonymous says
yes and yes….
Because let’s face it (look at some of the books that are currently published), talent isn’t everything. There’s the marketing aspect and there’s having a literary agent/publisher that believe in your book behind you. I’m not saying that bad books get published. Wait, am I?
🙂 Just having some fun with my answers.
Great questions Nathan.
Chro says
I wrote long before I expected to get published, and I’ll write long after I decide to stop chasing publication, whether I’ve sold a book or not. I’d ask, but only because a positive answer would give me motivation to push myself harder, and a negative answer would save me money on stamps.
Bernita says
Talent is like brains. If you don’t use it you might as well not have it.
Emily says
Interesting question. Of course I would want to know, that would save me so much career angst. If I knew I couldn’t be published, I’d invest myself in much more lucrative endeavors.
Would I still write? Yeah. Even if I never get published, there’s always the joy of online fanfiction. 🙂
Courtney says
hmmm. I don’t think I would write, at least, not my novel or my essays. I would probably still blog and play, but there is so much I don’t do in order to write…I no longer act, my yoga practice is spotty, I don’t know french or spanish…I basically exercise, eat, work and write. I think if I knew with absolute certainy the ends would never justify the means, I’d spend a lot more time at the movies and in museums and at long brunches with girlfriends.
But I don’t think I’d find out if I had the opportunity.
Ken says
You know, this very thing happened to me. So I thanked the seer, beat the snot out of him just for spite, and wrote under a pseudonym for years. My writing is still real crap but perhaps you’ve heard of me: Danielle Steele. Yeah, that’s right, D.S. is a guy. So I have a softer side, what of it?
Anonymous says
Tarzan no understand. Rhetorical question bad – hypothetical question okay?
Tarzan think hypothetical question based on specious syllogism. Seers tell many artist (including ink-stained wretches – you have no talent – and marketplace reflect that. Melville, Poe, Van Gogh come to mind.
These cats couldn’t get arrested with their product and yet…
When young people ask older artists and writers “Do I have what it takes? Should I devote my life to this?” The only fair answer is “Who the hell knows? Probably not.”
So don’t do it unless you can’t not, and if you can’t not then all the seers in the world couldn’t dissuade you. You will never know if and when when you will have an “It’s Alive! It’s Aliiive!” moment and suddenly produce something vital and original that generates and exists within its own unique context.
But don’t ever count on anyone giving a damn when you drag yourself down from the laboratory, bloodied and heart-broken, but bearing your monster masterpiece.
You likely to find out that the marketplace isn’t interested in monster masterpieces anymore. Especially if you lead with a pitiful query.
Would the Beatles get a recording contract or any airplay in the Age of Rap and Clearchannel? They were turned down by seers at every record company in London before their demo made it to an aging producer bored out of his gourd producing comedy albums and such.
I guess I’ve strayed a bit.
benwah says
Lotta bending the rules goin’ on round here. “But the seer’s WRONG!” screams the crowd, thereby missing the point of the thought experiment.
1. Sure, why not? Just because we’re taught we call all grow up to be whatever we want, reality isn’t quite so kind. Meritocracy demands skills and talents, and those are not distributed equally. If I’m not cut out to be a published writer, I’ll seek my form of expression elsewhere.
2. Not with the same degree of discipline, more hacking around. Besides, think of all the extra time I’d have freed up for drinking.
writeidea says
Question one: No.
Question two: Yes. Someone has to prove the seer wrong. Shouldn’t we write for our own pleasure first and foremost anyway?
Kimberly Lynn says
If we are talking “hypothetical” in this instance, then the seer is uncertain so therefore his or her prediction would be dubious.
Grin.
Anonymous says
I already have a “seer.” It’s the voices of published authors telling the stories of how they perservered before they were published, about all the rejections they got…That tells me all I need to know.
Morgan Dempsey says
Yes and yes.
Good to know where your limits are. But I liked writing even before I understood what publishing was.
Kim says
I have a question — off of today’s topic.
Could you find a weensy bit time to answer this at some point in the future? :
What percentage of manuscripts require
extensive revisions to get them to market?
What percentage of manuscripts require little or no revision to get them to market?
Thank you
Nathan Bransford says
Kim-
I nearly always have changes before they go out. It varies a great deal, and “extensive” is kind of a moving target, but I want to make sure they’re as polished as possible before they go out.
Anonymous says
Nathan,
A. I don’t want to know.
B. I’d still write anyway. This is a “have to” thing.
J.F.
sex scenes at starbucks says
I made a deal with the devil that I always want to know, so yeah.
Um. I would write. I wrote long before I had aspirations to publication. But I would not write with the drive and discipline that I now possess. And (knowing myself) actual paying deadlines make me work even harder.
Maureen says
I think another question is, do you write to be published, or do you write because you have to?
White it matters to me that others enjoy my writing, it matters more to me that I write. What a seer or anyone else might try to tell me wouldn’t keep me from my heart’s desire. I love creating characters, telling stories and putting them to paper. So I don’t want to know the future. I just want to know what’s going to happen next in the story I’m writing.
A Paperback Writer says
yes and yes
But I’d stop wasting my time hounding agents.
Shell I says
Wow – great question! And wow again – some great answers.
I would absolutely want to find out. I would hate to hear a ‘no’ but I would love to know. I would definately still write. I just wouldn’t risk my day job for it! 🙂
Whenever I (tentatively) hand my ms over for someone to review for me the first thing I always say is ‘It’s OK to tell me that it sucks.’ But I think I am just a bit self-degrading like that.
beckylevine says
1. No.
2. Yes.
That’s pretty clear–and if someone forced me to say “yes” to #1, I’d just decide the seer was blind.
Maybe there should be a #3. If the seer said no, would you still write with plans to submit. Me, yes.
Maybe I’m the blind one. 🙂
Katie Alender says
I don’t know if I’d want to know. But if I did know, I’d stop spending quite so much time writing–or at least feel a lot less guilty about taking time off for doing other things.
Jennifer says
Yes and yes. I just wouldn’t knock myself out so hard with regards to #2.
Anonymous says
1. Yes
2. Yes, but only to add to the slush pile
peacey says
1. Yes.
2. Let me answer that by asking this: if you went to sleep each night not knowing for sure if you’d wake up the following morning, would you still go to sleep?
Janet says
Yes, I think I would want to know. And I’m not sure I would continue writing. At least I would not try to write novels anymore. I’d really rather put that effort into something that would have more of an impact on the world. I’ve expressed my creativity in other ways in the past; I can survive without writing.
Hope Clark says
No, wouldn’t want to know. I prefer to think I can keep chipping away at my own destiny.
ICQB says
Question #1: Yes. I would want to know. That’s what I’ve been trying to find out!! It’s like American Idol – everyone honestly thinks they can sing, but only a few actually can. I need a Simon to tell me what he thinks of my writing!! I’ve had rejections on requested fulls that compliment my writing, but reject the story for other reasons. But look – I’m not published, so are they just being like Paula and being nice about how much talent I don’t have?
Question #2: I’d only write a little, for myself. I know that people can improve their writing, but enough to be published?
I’m waiting to hear back on a requested partial. If it’s a rejection then I’m thinking of posting the whole story on my short story blog, just so that someone might read it and maybe enjoy it, and then I’ll find something else to do with my life.
susandc says
Yes, I would want to know.
And yes, either way I would write. But if I didn’t have it, I wouldn’t spend all the time revising and I would write exclusively for the pleasure I derive from the experience. But I wouldn’t continue to turn down social obligations, hole up in front of my computer on weekends or spend all night working on something when I was on a roll like I often do now.
Shauna Roberts says
I don’t care whether the seer says I have talent or not. I would keep writing, and eventually I’ll get published. Talent is useful, but not necessary. Learned skills and hard work are far more important.