One of the more unique aspects of writing is the way people associate themselves and their identities with their words on the page. People don’t just spend time in the evening reflecting on the capricious vicissitudes of life and/or zombie killers from another planet. It somehow becomes more than that.
You can see this in the way people talk about writing: some people compare it to oxygen, i.e. something that they can’t live without. They don’t say, “I like to write, it’s fun, I enjoy it.” They say, unequivocally, “I am a writer. It’s who I am.”
I’m going to be honest here and say that while I don’t judge people when they define themselves as writer, whatever their publication status, I find it a little unsettling when they make it an overly intrinsic part of their identity.
First of all, people just don’t tend to define themselves by what they do in their spare time. You don’t hear anyone shout to the rafters, “I AM STAMP COLLECTOR!” or “I AM A CONNOISSEUR OF REALITY TELEVISION!”
To be sure, there’s something about writing that’s a little different (to say the least) from stamp collecting. It’s more personal, even when it’s not a memoir or something that relates directly to someone’s real life. Putting thoughts on the page, any thoughts, means taking one’s inner life and putting it all out there for the world to see. Normally we’re at great pains to keep our emotions hidden, whether that’s concealing anger or love or nervousness. Writers do the opposite: they take their innermost thoughts and show them to the world. And there’s something scary/thrilling about externalizing what is normally kept hidden.
But an identity?
Here’s where that becomes problematic. Once someone makes the leap from writing as a fun, intense pursuit to something wrapped up in identity, it’s a dangerous road to be walking on. As we all know, the path to material success in the writing world is ridden with obstacles and rejections. And when people begin to wrap up their identity with the publication process, the rejections become personal, and a judgment on a book becomes intertwined, in the writer’s eye, with a judgment of self.
Sure, there’s something unique and personal about writing, which is what so many people love about it. But I don’t think the ideal is pursuing it in an all-consuming Randy “The Ram” fashion. The moment the writing or the publishing process becomes the defining part of someone’s identity, when it becomes oxygen, that’s a time when the writer is risking having that oxygen choked off by forces completely outside of their control.
I hear from these people all the time. They’re the ones who start spamming agents, who write me angry e-mails, and who go on tirades about the publishing process. They’ve stopped enjoying the writing process, and because writing is so wrapped up in their self-conception, they can’t bear the pain of rejection and instead look outward for blame.
What do you think? Is it realistic to think that something so time-intensive and personal can be placed in a more hermetically sealed mental box? Is there even an ideal approach?
UPDATE: I scrubbed this post of the word “hobby” because I think it was distracting from the intent of the post. For the record: I don’t think a creative pursuit is the same thing as a hobby, I don’t prejudge people who call themselves writers, and as I hope is already abundantly apparent, I admire anyone and everyone who takes the time to put word to page. I only meant “hobby” as in something that one does that is not one’s career, not as something trivial.
As I mentioned in the comments section, this post could have been summed up: “Don’t let the publishing process define you.” But I didn’t have time today for such a short post.
And until you’re making a living at it, writing is a hobby. It’s something you do in your spare time. (Right?) from a blog I found:
https://poesdeadlydaughters.
blogspot.com
/2007/03/hobby-writer.html
“Hobby writer is certainly pejorative. “She’ll never be anything but a hobby writer,” another writer says cattily over lunch. “Maybe you should try just being a hobby writer,” members of a critique group suggest gently. There is a certain segment of the mystery community who would, if it could, lump all authors of light, funny, fluffy mysteries into the category of hobby writers. Fortunately, it’s a very small segment, and can be mostly avoided.
So where’s the line? Does a writer go to bed one night a hobby writer and wake up the next morning as a professional writer. Or vice versa? The demarcation certainly is not in the quality of writing. I’ve read spectacular pieces by people who openly call themselves hobby writers and have no desire to turn pro. Nor is the line crossed if an author occasionally makes money on writing or is published. Contrary to urban myths, the Internal Revenue Service does not have a hard and fast rule about what makes writing a hobby versus a legitimate tax deduction.
It’s not even attitude. Many hobby writers say they write professionally, but are not professional writers. To write professionally means to keep learning the craft and try to turn out each piece a little better than the one before, which is what I try to do in my quilts.
I think the difference between the hobby writer and the professional writer has to do with two things. The first is reflected in a quote I collected a few years ago from another mystery writer. I didn’t write down who said it, so I’ll give it to you unattributed. If you have a clue who might have said this, please let me know so I can credit them. The quote is “The business of writing has to be as much fun as the writing. The difference between an amateur and a professional is how much time they devote to business.”
Ah, the business. Agent searches. Query letters. Knowing the market. Filing taxes. Keeping up with the publishing world. Doing an inventory of what’s in your home office and your storage closet. Making and sticking to a budget. Writing business goals. Having a professional portrait taken. Doing book signings and classes. Marketing, marketing, and more marketing. Getting your name out there even before you have a book to sell and keeping your name out there in front of readers.
The second difference is that the hobby writer allows herself the luxury of not writing. I don’t mean those occasional spells of taking a few days, or in some cases, a few weeks off. Everyone has those, but no matter what’s going on in the background of the rest of her life, the professional writer eventually puts her bottom in the chair and her hands on the keyboard or around the gel pen and knocks out the 5,000 words for the short-story or the 90,000 words for the novel. She may have to write around children, or family illness, or a broken furnace, or the pressures of a day job, but write she will. As well as she can, and perhaps just squeaking in under the deadline by minutes, but she gets there.
Not all writers wish to turn pro. It’s time we stamp out this arbitrary dividing line and treat one another simply as writers.”–
It seems like the term “hobby” is most often used as a put down, so it has that sting like a put down and it shocked or insulted not a few readers here.
And, re: Van Gogh: He was certainly not a hobby painter even if he was not commercially successful.
anon-
Again, I think people are bringing their own anxieties about “hobby writing” to the table. I was at pains in my post to talk about the ways writing is different.
And honestly — what does it matter what I think about it? The post is about not letting writing alone define you. Part of that is not letting people in the publishing industry define you. Including me!
Psychologically speaking (you knew that was coming), identity is generally NOT wound up in one thing. Identity develops mostly during adolescence, but continues to change over time. Most people identify themselves in part by what they believe (“I am a Christian” or “I am a Buddhist”), where they’re from (“I grew up on the ghetto”), if they’re an open person or a private person, etc etc, and to some degree by what they do. Writing is something you sort of live and breathe, even if you have another job. I’m a full time student, and even when I was a full time student + a techie + president of my fraternity + VP of Japanese club, I still thought of myself as a writer at heart. A writer who is also a Christian, loves Japan, has dogs, is a daughter, is a friend, etc etc. I think maybe if writing is the only way by which you define yourself it might be a problem–but that could be true about anything. We’re meant to be more than one thing, and so I don’t think there’s anything magical about writing that makes people only a writer or makes people get that ego-bruised intensity you mentioned. The people who have no other identity are probably the people that have some other problem to begin with, and that’s just a symptom of it. That’s my two cents, anyway.
Theo suggests that Nathan try writing a story. Fiction. Made up from nothing but the dust and amorphous gunk on the soles his shoes after a day in the city, perhaps. Make it sing, make it explore the most profound uncertainties of the human experience. Make it claw at my heart and own it for those few moments. And, by the way, keep it under four thousand words.
We write because there are stories to be told and there are only so many people who can sit still long enough to tell them well. And by ‘story’ Theo intends a specific definition (look it up). When we run out of stories, we, the humans, run out of humanity. At that point we are nothing but monkeys doing time in the high branches of the trees on all of the moonless nights ever to come. So, Nathan, write us a story. Theo is betting that you can do it. You’ve parsed the minds of writers so much, you must have internalized something of the angst that eventually leaks out into stories told. Theo says, Go for it.
Cheers,
Theo
Nathan,
I do think you made a very excellent point about not letting getting published define you or getting overly identified.
However, I think it is very rare for you, the Most Polite Agent Ever, to miss that the term hobby offended some people.
David Morrell has a great book on writing. When he taught writing, he always asked his students why they want to right. He would dismiss answers regarding income, prestige, stardom (in his opinion, who wants it?) and see if they came up with anything else.
The answer: Writers write because they need to. It’s like an angry squirrel gnawing at your stomach. And that squirrel becomes your voice distinct from any other writer. So yeah, writing defines the writer, but their experience (the squirrel, the place they write from) is what defines them as a writer and some of those places are very dark and have other personality repercussions. Let’s be compassionate to the sensitive artist for it is certain they have suffered.
Very interesting question. I am a writer in the same way that I am a reader. I love reading books and I do lots of it. I’ve only written one book, but I’ve written it over and over again (the version with the toad that talks like Ian Drury is so much better than the last one). It’s part of what I am.
In thinking about my work – I’m an English teacher. Unless I can convince someone in the publishing industry that talking toads are the way to go, then it is going to keep on paying the bills. If someone asks me what I do I wouldn’t immediately go for ‘I’m a reader of Nathan Bransford’s blogspot.’ even though that’s true. But it’s in there if they ask me what I am and want the detail.
By the way, my post about David Morrell is a tad tongue in cheek since he wrote Assumed Identity, which is about a guy who has an identity crisis due to letting others define who he was at any given moment!-lol
Nathan sometimes I’m not sure you get writers. You get books and you know how to hammer out a great blog, please don’t take offense but I’m not sure you get what it means to be a writer. To most of us this is a soul endeavor, a passion that ignites us without reason. It just is. Honestly, it is about as wonderful as breathing. Deep, clear lungfuls. Sure I won’t die a natural death without it but a little part of me would. It doesn’t rule me, but it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t love for it to. Let’s just say it messes with the endorphins in a good way.
JenC said:
Marilyn Peake said…
I’m having the most fun doing research for fiction-writing than I’ve had in a very long time!
Research is the most fun part, isn’t it? BTW, why don’t you have your own blog??? I keep thinking “oh that’s interesting, I’ll go over to your blog and comment further…” but then remember that you don’t have one!
———
Wow, thank you, Jen! You just made my day! I’m amazed someone actually enjoys reading my comments. 🙂 I’ve thought about starting a blog, but writing takes up so much of my free time, I can’t imagine keeping balance in my life if I added a blog to my schedule. I publish a newsletter, and used to publish articles by writers in it, but found that even that took up too much time. I had the great fortune of having those articles accepted for publication in two separate books, but found that I had to give up writing fiction during the time I was editing those books. I recently joined Twitter because it takes so little time to post comments in 140 characters or less. 🙂
Marilyn, what is your Twitter username? I’ll catch up with you there!
Although I’m not sure how far I can get in a discussion about time travel in 140characters!
Oh, cool, Jen! My Twitter username is one word: marilynpeake
This is really interesting, a good conversation. Thanks for sparking it, Nathan.
Whether or not I’m making a living at it, I approach the world with a writing perspective. A writer’s perspective, a writer’s intention. I earned my living writing for several years but my job title was something else, in another profession. Even within another professional community, I am a writer, I’m one who writes about it, to it, for it.
Writing is the approach I take, have always taken, to the world. I’m grateful to earn money doing it but that’s not what makes me a writer. I am a writer because of the sense of vocation I have, the responsibility and privilege I have, the talents and skills I’ve got and been given, to interact with the world. It is an art. It is a craft. It is a pleasure. It feels like the greatest gift in the world to me, to get to do this. And if I never earn another dime at it, that’s okay with me, too.
I’m really sorry that the product has become so all important, not that anyone who communicates is content without getting their messagae to somebody.
Thanks again for this stimulating conversation, Nathan! I’m glad being an agent isn’t all you do.
But I’m glad you do it. You’re good.
Nathan,
I sincerely hope my comments didn’t come across as anything other than part of a really interesting discussion. I love your blog because it always feels like a place where real academic discussion can take place, rather than a place where people just post a continuous stream of lame comments such as, “Cool!” or “Agree!” or “No way!” or “LOL!” or “ROFLOL!”
I think your comment, “And until you’re making a living at it, writing is a hobby” might have instigated so much discussion because right now the economy is on everyone’s mind. All I could think of is whether or not some of the most highly-paid financial “experts” were really “experts”. I love academic, philosophical discussions … and I think of your blog as one of the best places on the Internet for that kind of discussion. I don’t think that most of the discussion was personally aimed at you, and some of it was probably more about our larger political and economic world than about writing.
By the way, during the past few weeks of intensive writing, I think I’m no longer a “writer”. I think I’ve somehow morphed into a “consumer of too many mocha lattes”. Seriously. I need to have business cards made to reflect it.
I’ve never posted this much before. It must be an interesting topic. Anyway, since I’m pretty much annonymous on here, I can divulge the trauma that made me a writer. I both appreciate and loathe my childhood experience of sexual abuse. I do wish it had never happened. Let me say that clearly. However, my reaction was to live in fantasies I created to escape from my horrible reality. And therefore, I wrote. Therein this the crux of my opinions on this discussion. Who I am led me to write and how I write. Every protagonist of mine is coloured with innocence lost, a jaded view of the world and self-preservation defense mechanisms, even though I do not write about my actual experience.
It seems to me that writing is a coping mechanism that I developed as my personality/identity was being developed and that’s why it is such a sensitive topic for me. I’ll say it again-I write because it’s who I am. It’s my solace, my way of going through the world and my personal diary.
And yeah, it keeps me sane.
Thanks for listening blog world!
I posit that hobbies are not bad. Some of us should get one.
That being said, writing doesn’t seem hobby-ish to me, except perhaps in diary form. Hobbies, in my estimation, are things we do to occupy our hands while our minds remain free. Upholstery, woodworking, gardening, etc. When I engage in “hobby” activity, I am usually writing in my head. The writing doesn’t cease when I’m away from the computer. I write when I’m cooking, driving, in the shower, working out, whatever.
Maybe that’s why everyone is so hot and bothered with the term.
Word verification: ansess- an excess of anxiety when monster literary agent inadvertently implies that one’s ambition is the product of an overactive pastime.
Nathan, one thing that struck me about today’s post was the description of problem exemplified by those people who send nasty emails or become angry and defensive when their work is rejected. You interpreted this as having too much of one’s identity bound up in being a writer.
That may be true, but I wonder if those people wouldn’t be equally angry and defensive at ANY criticism. You get reactions that are related to writing because of your profession, but don’t you think those folks might be equally touchy about other things as well? I wonder if it might be less about identifying too strongly with being a writer and more about having such fragile self-esteem that criticism in any context is seen as an unjustified attack. Their greatness must be recognized in order to protect their brittle egos.
I think tomorrow’s post should explore the similarities between writing and sausage-making. It was an astute comparison. After all, nobody really knows what goes into sausage, just as nobody really knows which elements from a person’s life will contribute to their writing. Perhaps now we’ll hear more people shouting “I make sausage!” from the rooftops.
Come to think of it, that might make more people laugh, which in turn will release endorphins and make them happy. The world could be a better place if writers just proclaimed to make sausage. Genius!
I love the responses. Especially The Responsive Anonymous Poster… Despite the clarifications that you’ve made, Nathan, I think writers have a right to be touchy especially when the sausage vendor tells the sausage maker to not be defensive. Jeez, it’s only sausage, right? The sausage analogy doesn’t go far, so I’m going to abandon it. Let me just say that I believe people have a right to see themselves in whatever way they want to see themselves. Challenge that, and you get challenged. Your blog identifies you as Nathan Bransford — Literary Agent. With that label emblazoned across your chest, you can reject any story submitted to you; and you can do it for any reason. Yet, you know books aren’t written in a day. A really good story may take up to a year or more to write. After sale, there’s even more work. Writers put out a heck of a lot more than they get back. If they want to wear a tiara and a banner with the word: writer, so what? I think, correct me if I’m wrong, that rudeness displayed by a rejected author is the source of your pique. Well, okay. If a writer crosses the line, block them, ignore them, but don’t sneer at them. Not until you’ve written a novel and had it rejected. Repeatedly. We writers know that rejection is part of the process. We’re told to get over it. Most of us do. We pick ourselves up and go out to slay another dragon. That’s the writing profession, the business side. Several years ago, I read a statistic quoted by author Marion Chesney, aka, M.C. Beaton. She said that only 4% of writers can support themselves professionally. And those writers have to wait six months to a year for the check from the publisher. Heck, give me a banner and a tiara, it’s quicker. Writing is a profession where zombies, vampires, and half-blood teen gods are bestsellers. Can any of us afford to look down our noses at one who pursues creativity in whatever fashion and with whatever level of passion they choose? I’m sorry that a writer was rude to you. People are rude to me sometimes because of the color of my skin. It always hurts. And you think bad thoughts about the particular individual, but you do not paint the brush strokes of anger over every person. Your post seemed to contain a remnant of your frustration. Maybe I’m wrong about that. All I know is that I haven’t sent you any mean e-mails.
Okay, I think I get it. Maybe.
For me, accepting my identity as a writer was essential. Once I accepted, “This is who I am,” failure (not writing) was no longer an option. Living a life structured around and devoted to writing, the thing I love most, became for me the measure of success. Trying to make a living at it became an almost separate endeavor. Once I became comfortable with what I am (a writer), it didn’t matter to me what I called myself or what other people called me. I had no problem answering, “Bartender” when people asked what I was.
I think the heart of Nathan’s point is this: It’s dangerous to depend on validation of your identity from others. No agent, editor, publisher, or publicist can make you into a writer. Don’t ask them to. Don’t hate them when they don’t. It’s not their job.
If you’re honest with yourself, the mirror and your desk will tell you all you need to know. Watch out for falling in love with being called “a writer” when you should be in love with writing.
Marilyn, lol. Business cards. Mine would read, cappuccino consumer and chair sitter. The bookstore where I write — and read — all the time said they’d have to lay off a clerk if I ever stop showing up and stop drinking.
Anon @ 9:46 PM –
LOL! That’s funny. I think I might have personally kept Starbucks in business this past month. 🙂
I am a writer. It’s who I am.”
Gatz Hjortsberg said this during a review of his long writing life at a presentation I covered as a reporter. “For some people they discover writing is who they are,” he said. And so after being rejected after playing out a Stegner fellowship novel and with a top agent, he gave up and wrote for fun after drinking at night. The book, Alp, got published and he’s never had a real job since.
Beware of who you call a hobbyist. They could be the client you won’t have.
I know my previous post was ridiculously long. Sorry. Just one other thing. I’ve got this little list of authors and their professions. Funny, we remember these people as writers because they wrote. Some were not even well-published. Mid-listing, amazon listing, and best-seller statusing writers is a worthless pursuit. Let historians do that. They are the writers who classify.
W.H. Auden, reporter
Anne Bronte, governess
Aphra Behn, spy
Samuel Butler, sheep breeder
Jack London, longshoreman
Thomas Hardy, architect
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, teacher
Alex Haley, coast guardsman
Eudora Welty, photographer
I’ve got more, but I’ll stop here.
As an editor (general fiction), I’ve come to a hardnosed, but realistic, conclusion: there should be a Simon Cowell for writers. Yep, I can hear the booing from here. But, for goodness’ sake, not all writing is meant for mass publishing. There are a lot of clever stories floating around in slush piles; but, it’s often difficult to distill the stories from the awkward writing. That said, and Hegelian Dialectics aside, unless a person is making a living as a writer, I don’t think writer=identity is sensible or even accurate for casual use.
bill-
Yeah, that’s what I was going for. I probably could have saved a lot of angst by just writing, “Don’t let the publishing process define you,” but it was a busy day and I didn’t have the time to write such a short post.
Lisa,
Good point. However:
I am bilingual but I don’t work as a translator. Does this mean I don’t speak Spanish?
I don’t get paid for running. Or hiking or camping. But I am a runner, a hiker, and a camper.
I am positive that there is a lot of crap in slushpiles. I read some of the things people proudly post as ready for prime time on creative writing websites and it makes me shudder. I don’t want to do your job, or Nathan’s. But to maintain that someone is not a writer if it’s not how they make their living seems downright silly.
Many writers may need to face the fact that it will never pay their mortgage but it doesn’t make them NOT a writer. Maybe not a good writer, or maybe not good at business, or maybe just not a marketable writer.
Back to Nathan’s point: if it is the pith of your self image then you will get ground up at some point in the business process.
Update: I scrubbed this post of the word “hobby” because I think it was distracting from the intent of the post. Thanks for everyone who chimed in on this point — it certainly wasn’t my intent to demean writing of any type.
Last night, I went to an SCBWI meeting. Topic: Self Publishing. I came home and dreamed that I was at my daughter’s school fighting Komodo dragons with a toilet plunger. That notwithstanding, I write because I can’t not do it.
A few years ago, I had an essay called “The Day the Sky Fell In” published in my local (horse related) newsletter. It was about my horse dying. The next time I went to a show, a complete stranger came up to me and hugged me. She had just lost a horse. She told me she read the article and it made her feel better. This is why I write.
Nathan:
I just read the spamming link and totally get where you’re coming from on this. Delusional and unhinged, that one.
I’m an advertising writer. So for me, I do define myself as a writer since that’s what pays the grocery bills, puts food in my belly and supplies my rear with True Religion Brand Jeans. In terms of fiction writing, or non-fiction writing, I’m still figuring it out. I haven’t sent an agent my work, or anything like that. For now, I’m just enjoying the process of storytelling. Should something come of my ramblings, great. If not, I’ve got something I’m pretty darn proud of to pass to friends and family.
I’m a writer. Now granted, I’m in the business of making you want things you never thought you always wanted. And it’s true, I’m the person who sometimes fills your mail box with postcards advertising the world’s most advanced carrot scrapper, but it’s what I do. And I love it. It’s challenging to have to write in different voices to fit a sixty-year-old man who is the target for a new hair growth treatment, or a twenty-year-old video gamer who’s the target audience for a new video game called Alien Camels vs. Zombie Turtles.
So, as I do think you have a point —I mea, there is a certain undeniable FUN in writing for yourself—there are those who actually “write” for a living. Even if it’s not the great American novel. ;0)
Nathan said:
Update: I scrubbed this post of the word “hobby” because I think it was distracting from the intent of the post. Thanks for everyone who chimed in on this point — it certainly wasn’t my intent to demean writing of any type.
——-
Is this the best blog on the Internet, or what? That does seem to change the theme of the entire post … although I think we had a really fascinating discussion earlier. I love this blog! Thanks for all you do, Nathan!
Now, I could write tomes on the importance of keeping a balanced life, but I think I probably used up my daily quota of blog posts.
Speaking of other interests besides writing, a Harvard professor has invented inhalable chocolate.
Poor Nathan.
I think a lot of people totally missed your point and got offended by you calling writing a hobby.
I agree completely with you.
It is never healthy to identify yourself with a single aspect of your life, whether that is your job, your family, or your passionate interests. People need to be well rounded.
My mother was a fantastic mother. If they gave a noble prize for mothers, mine would have one at least once. But being a mother was her sole identity. When the last child left the house, she had an identity crisis. It took some time for her to reinvent herself.
I think when we are really passionate about one thing, we have a tendency to let that one thing completely define us. This is very unhealthy. Even if you are a best selling award winning novelist, if being a writer is ALL of what you are, than you are emotionally unstable.
We need balance in our lives.
LOL @ the May 5, 2009, 1.26PM comment by NB – LA….
“But notice how touchy people get about it! Why should it matter what I or anyone else thinks about how you define yourself?”
Laurel @ 10:11
Point taken. But, are you a runner or do you run? Rather, if you were a can of frozen concentrated something, would your label be runner? And, if so, then your running would probably be up for criticism. And, that’s where I understand Nathan’s point. If writer is an all-encompassing identity, then rejection can begin to poke holes in identity. If you’re a published writer, then criticism is just part of the ballgame. But, if you’re writing for the love of writing, than separating identity from reviews of your writing is just a smart way to live; unless, of course, they’re fabulous reviews. Then it’s all you! ha ha
Lisa,
You’re right of course. I am a runner. If I’m not running regularly it bothers me…a lot. The running analogy captured my fancy because it is so similar. There are people who trash their bodies running and have to give it up altogether in the end. It dominates their lives to the point of being self destructive. I am pretty sure this form of compulsion is what Nathan’s cautionary spammer tale is warning against.
I don’t hurt myself running. But I am still a runner.
Marilyn Peake said…
Speaking of other interests besides writing, a Harvard professor has invented inhalable chocolate.
Oh. My. God. Surely this is a gift from the heavens themselves?
Lisa,
Ooh! If I were a can of frozen concentrated something it would be “runner beans”. (colloquialism for green beans in these parts)
Get it?
This post really spoke to me. Thank you.
I started writing as a means to keep my mind active. So when my husband is out of town and my son is asleep, I enjoy opening the lid to my computer and typing my way into a story. It soothes me.
I’m in a situation where I don’t work outside of my home. But before my son was born, I was a speaker and a leader. I miss having a voice. I miss being a professional who wears suits and answers questions. I need something to do that is communicative, something that is transient enough to fit in with the needs of my family. Writing is a great hobby for me. If I can turn it into a profession, that would be fantastic. But for now it gives me something to do, which adds to my day–without taking anything away.
I wasn’t sure if my enjoyment counted among the ranks of writers who like me sit in home offices reading blogs and joining critique groups…because I haven’t given up anything. I’m not an artist. The urge to write doesn’t course through my veins like liquid fire. For me, it is a reasonable means to an end. One that I enjoy very much.
Thanks for helping me admit that this can be enough.
Louise
I think scrubbing the word “hobby” from your original post completely changes the entire conversation and makes the first 300 or so comments seem out of place. I sent the link to some various artist friends to get their feedback because it was such an interesting discussion – but now the original post has been changed. The truth is you *did* compare unpublished writing to a hobby and to stamp collecting and watching reality TV. And you *did* insinuate that people who don’t make their living through writing shouldn’t really be calling themselves writers. Although I don’t think your original post is without merit (of course no one should solely identify themselves as only *one* thing!) – the tone was dismissive of what writers or any artists do in the process of making their art and claiming art as part of their identities. And I think the number of comments on this post proves that regardless of the way you intended it, the main point was not communicated clearly. I agree whole-heartedly with your clarified main point. I was disturbed by the way you first described the “hobby” of writing. But then again, I guess we should all cut you a break since blogging is just your “hobby.”
Your words weigh in gold. Awesome post. I agree, whether you are a writer, a musician, a singer, painter, artist, a mother, stamp collector or a janitor, it is a part of you.
The sum that is you should be greater than its parts!
I know there are already a ridiculous number of comments and so this probably won’t be seen, but thanks for posting this.
At some level, I think there is pressure– kind of like a peeing contest– for us to define ourselves more intensely as writers. After all, great authors have famously told us that if you don’t HAVE to be a writer, do something else. So there is the sense that if we don’t at least claim to be completely helpless without writing, we shouldn’t be writing at all.
So I found your post refreshing. I love to write, but I know it’s also a discipline and a art I can learn, not merely the singing of a muse. And I know that I can do other things, and (most of the time!) find great reward in my day job, in cooking, in exploring Israel, watching reality TV… at any rate, it’s nice to hear that a laid-back attitude towards writing is ok, that I don’t need to feel crazily consumed by it to be successful.
On the other hand, I do really, really want to compose a book I love. If I didn’t have that hunger, I wouldn’t be writing.
Hmm. And I’m not writing now…
Word verification: clowd (I think you can find that one in some of my earliest writing 🙂
Not to be a snob but I’ve worked as a writer/editor, have a degree, etc and consider myself a (paid and published) professional.
I’ve gone to lectures, workshops and conferences and talked to wannabes who like the cachet of being a writer, but have never actually written anything. One woman told me she writes “in her diary.” That’s great but writing is hard work, it’s not just a fun hobby or a way to pass the time.
Perhaps it’s therapy or an escape for some, but for serious writers, it’s about craft and yes, publication.
ouch, there is a little bit of irony in my phrase “a art I can learn.” I done write good, really! 😉
Btw, just to play devil’s advocate, I sometimes think I WOULD feel more committed if I told people I was a writer. When I ran my first marathon, my training book told me to tell people “I am a marathoner” even when the longest distance I’d ever run was a 5K. But I was on an 18 week training plan that would take me to 26.2 miles, and by telling people I was already a marathoner, you’d better bet I was going to follow through. It also helped me believe I could complete such a scary distance. On the other hand, I certainly didn’t invest my whole sense of identity in being a marathoner, and I didn’t feel that (because I was a marathoner) I deserved to be GIVEN a marathon completion. So I think it might be ok to call ourselves writers so long as it pushes us through the hard work towards our writing goals and helps us take our writing seriously, but not if it convinces us that we’ve already arrived and that others are obligated to give us the honor we think we deserve.
“bill-
Yeah, that’s what I was going for. I probably could have saved a lot of angst by just writing, “Don’t let the publishing process define you,” but it was a busy day and I didn’t have the time to write such a short post.”
Nathan –
No problem. I’m here to help.
Bill.
While I’m broadly in agreement with the notion that people are bigger than their professions and may risk limiting their potential by defining themselves thus, on the flip side, there is a simple question: what do you wish to do with your time?
Could be stamp collecting. Could be dancing naked. For me, it’s writing.
That said, it would be unwise of me to imagine that this preference of mine singles me out for any special treatment or that I am better in some way than the stamp collectors and the naked dancers of this world. My problem is that while there are few rewards for stamp collecting beyond the doing of the deed itself (and I’m going to ditch the naked dancing here because, apparently, you can meet tons of exciting people and make a mint), writing attaches itself to a broad spectrum of future possibilities, most of which are based loosely on starving to death in an abandoned attic, but a tiny proportion of which feature huge cash rewards, fame, and servants. And this can be a terrible lure for some people, especially when the bulk of their time is spent doing a job they hate to pay the bills their writing currently doesn’t (and probably never will).
You see the same thing all of the time in talent shows hosted by Simon Cowell, where endless dropped octaves of singers warble their way through excrutiating renditions of Whitney Houston songs because “it’s my dream to be a singer. I’d love to walk out on stage night after night. Anything, anything but working in that lo-cost store where I’m treated as a nobody…”
Sad to say, but the side effect of having writing as one of your choice time fillers is that the temptation to become frustrated and delusional is so great, it’s all easy to become a public nuisance (or, conversely, a hollow spectre). Worse still, in the end, this can only corrupt your writing.
So, we have to be passionate about writing, otherwise there’s no point. We have to recognise we have talents and abilities that may one day bear fruit. And we may, if we wish, call ourselves writers at any stage of the process. What we mustn’t do is gad about the place like a bunch of petulant wankers.
Another top post from The Brans…
To my mind, writing without publication is like a marriage without children- it doesn’t make void the marriage, but to some it can leave them unfulfilled.
When people say (unpublished) writers rant about the way publishing is set up, I see nothing wrong or derogoratory in exploring a system that in part defrauds civilization of its literary heritage, because at the end of the day publishing is set up primarily to gain as much money as possible at the expense of…
I started reading the comments but there were too many for me to read them all – I have writing to do 🙂
I think that wrapping your identity up solely in one pursuit is unhealthy no matter what the object. If you derive your sense of identity from your relationship, what happens when it breaks up? If your identity comes from your job, how do you cope if you’re made redundant? etc etc. So I guess the people who spam you and write angry emails are those who have invested too much of their identity in writing. I’m sure even a mega-bestseller like JK Rowling derives some of her identity from other things, like being a mother, wife, friend.
And it’s not just failed writers who write angry emails. When relationships break down, some people start stalking their exes. I’m guessing it’s a similar thing to your angry writers – too much of their identity was contained in one thing, even though they may seem normal on the outside.
I agree with Margaret Yang. The crazies are just crazy. For normal people (as normal as us creative types can be) there is nothing wrong with saying “I am a writer.” We certainly have to understand that there is a difference between “I am a writer” and “I am a world-famous, filthy rich writer”.
Ok. So you say you’re a writer. If you knew right now that there would never be any hope of publishing your work, of earning real money as a writer, would you still write? If the answer is ‘yes’, then you ARE a writer. If the answer is ‘no’, then you should find something else to do.
I’ve just read all 354 comments. Where do I collect my prize, Nathan?
One point that I think is worth making, although it’s only tangentially related to Nathan’s post, is the impact that identifying solely as a writer and building your entire sense of self on that can have on the act of writing itself.
I’ve written since I was a kid – I actually can’t remember when I started. And when I was in my early twenties, I had a major crisis of confidence. I’d spent my whole life hoping to be a professional writer someday, but this ambition dated from when I was seven, and not known for my ability to make major life decisions.
I started asking myself did I *really* want to be a writer, or was I just in the habit of wanting to be a writer because it was what I’d been telling myself all this time. This, in turn, meant I was putting myself under so much pressure – I must write! I must be successful! Otherwise I have failed at life! – that I couldn’t write. Every time I sat down, all I could think was ‘This isn’t good enough. This isn’t going to get me there.’ Much self-examination ensued.
It turns out I really want to be a professional writer, which I realised after lots of thought. But creatively, it was important to give myself the space to not want to be a writer. Even now, when I hit obstacles in the project I’m working on, I say to myself ‘You don’t have to do this. You can abandon this stupid book and go shopping. Switch off the computer and watch TV.’ I’m still working on the novel. But it’s vital to me as a writer as well as a person to have the space to quit anytime I want. I tried living with writing as my only goal in life, and not only did it have an impact on my other professional life (such as it is), it ironically almost destroyed my writing!