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October 25, 2005

Why continue writing fiction?

Mark Terry wrote An Open Letter to Aspiring Writers on his blog, This Writing Life. I can’t say I agree with every point he made, and there are some I don’t qualify to offer any opinion on. His post got me thinking about why we write, which I’ve explored here before, and more specifically why I continue. Especially his first point. (Read Mark’s post for his words.)

It’s probably healthiest for the aspiring writer to look at fiction writing one of two ways. 1) As an after-work side job or business that one is willing to give up on if it doesn’t pay off, or 2) as a beloved hobby to pursue in one’s spare time—after time with family, after taking care of responsibilities, and perhaps even after just goofing off.

There were a few years when I spent every evening and weekend writing, and every vacation editing, revising, or otherwise working toward publication. I wish now I’d just taken a trip somewhere. That would’ve made me happier, healthier, and perhaps even fed my writing more effectively. I might’ve had something more interesting to write.

Many of us grew up with the notion that if we give up on a dream, or anything we’ve invested much time or effort in, we’re quitters—failures—the next worst thing to total losers. We were taught to never quit a job unless there’s a better one already waiting. That’s probably the worst way for an aspiring novelist to think about writing with the dream of publication. An aspiring novelist’s desire to be published is sometimes like a gambling addict’s urge to place the next bet. Every failed effort leaves us planning the next time—because next time we’ll make it big. This realization hit me hard, because I don’t even like to gamble.

There’s more to life than writing.

There’s also more to writing than being published. At one time I was unhappy, and convinced myself my unhappiness was due to not being published. I quit writing altogether after a wounding critique from an agent I’d actually paid to drop me into such a trough of self-doubt. The really awful thing was, he was right, about that manuscript. I just stopped. I didn’t write any fiction for a year. After that year I still didn’t want to write for publication, but I realized I had to write this one story that had been developing in my mind for years. I needed to write it. I started it because the story wouldn’t leave me alone. After a year of writing nothing but miserable journal pages, I plunged into the first draft. I wrote my best work yet. Maybe the reason it was better than what I’d written before was that I didn’t care whether it would be published. I just wanted to write it, for me, and for the story itself. It had to come out of my head onto paper. This took a long time. It was a long story. Too long. The cutting and editing process seemed to go on forever.

As it turned out, I couldn’t interest an agent in it. Fifty submissions—yes, fifty, and not random, but well thought out submissions to selected agents—resulted in two offers to read my manuscript for a fee and “doctor” it. Instead I self-published Shadows Fall, first through iUniverse, and later on my own. A few years later I self-published Snow Angels on my website as a free ebook. (My reasons for that are a whole other post.)

These days I still want to be published—by someone else. Self-publishing is too much like publishing, which isn’t writing. Besides, it doesn’t pay. I never broke even on expenses, in spite of some glowing reviews and personally rewarding feedback from readers, which happily continues to trickle in.

I eventually realized it’s more important to live than to live for publication. In my case living includes writing, spending hours at the computer or sometimes with pencil and paper, crafting a story, and being happy doing it. As soon as I begin thinking again that I must be published, I find the writing isn’t nearly as much fun. I still visualize seeing it published. I don’t think I’d care so much about the writing process if I didn’t. But that’s no longer a reason in itself to continue writing. My happiness as a writer no longer relies on it. Instead of focusing on wanting to be published, I’d rather expend my passion on living the best life I can, including doing the best job writing when I’m doing that.

So, yeah, I’d like to be published, and published big if at all possible. I’d also like to win the lottery. But I’m not giving up the rest of my life in hopes of winning the lottery, so why would I give it up for a dream of publication? I write because I like to write.

Does this love of the process mean I’ll keep writing no matter what? No. I like to do other things, too. I have a passion for needlework, and for watercolor. I like to take lots of time to cook. I hope to travel more. Perhaps another new career altogether will take hold of my passion. (I retired early from my last career, in technical writing, editing, and distribution, and I’m not 50 yet.) I take fiction writing one project at a time, these days. While I’m writing, I have that loose possibility of publication in my head, mainly because I need to have a reader, an audience, in mind. I think that makes me a better writer, it keeps me reaching for excellence. But I don’t commit myself to continuing no matter what. If I finish this book and it sells, so be it. If I finish this book and it doesn’t sell, so be it. If I finish this book and never want to write another story again, so be it.

If a writer still enjoys the writing process and wonders if she should continue, after any length of time spent unsuccessfully attempting to publish, the primary questions I believe she should ask herself are—Am I improving as a person through writing? Do I stretch myself in the direction of publication and reader enjoyment? Do I seek feedback and can others derive satisfaction from what I write? Do I have an instinct for telling a story? Am I growing my skills? Or do I engage in this only for my own narcissistic pleasure? Because whether she does it for herself or for publication, if publication is even a vague goal, the writer needs to keep that possibility, and the need to treat this like a business, in view. Fiction is a form of communication, and that implies others will get something of value from it if they choose to read it, even if it’s simply for entertainment.

Published or not and writing or not, I intend to be happy living my whole life, not just the writing life.

— Barbara @ rudimentary 9:03 pm PST, 10/25/05

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12 Comments

  1. Spencer says:

    Barbara

    What a powerful post. My question to you would be, do you really believe your own thoughts? Do you really want to merely meander around in the garden of words and only hope someone important smells something printable?

    You gotta keep on keeping on. Never lay your pen down. Press on. Press forward and write. Write everything on your mind. Write it fast. Write it all. Take time later to sort through your writings. I will bet you there are gold nuggets buried inside those quips. Many of my inspiration is born out of a quick story.

    Take time to rest and enjoy your family. Take time to enjoy your life. And take time to mold your passion like putty in your hands. That passion seem to clearly be writing. keep at it. What to agents know anyway. They all seem to have warped opinions.

    Make it a great day writing.

    Spencer

  2. Mark Terry says:

    Yes, exactly the point I was making, I think. I particularly like “I realized it was more important to live than to live for publication.”

    Yes, I love writing. Yes, I would probably continue to do it even if I decided to make a living somewhere else. But hopefully with a less obsessive quality. My life is significantly more balanced now than it used to be. I try to spend more time with my kids and wife. I exercise-walk the dog several times a day, work out at the gym 3 times a week, practice karate-and watch TV and tinker with the guitar a bit. These aren’t chores-they’re life. John Lennon said, “Life is what happens while you’re making plans.”

    He’s right. And I would add, Life is more important than the plans you make, including possible publication.

    Best,
    Mark Terry

  3. blogdog says:

    I like your attitude, Barbara. Remember that when you were a technical writer, you got published all the time — but where was the fun and the glory in that? What happens, happens. In the meantime, you’re doing well in loving what you do — all of what you do.

  4. Spencer, thanks. As to your question, hey wait a minute. I never said I no longer submit work to publishers and agents. As long as I continue to write I’ll do that, as well as keep an eye on the market, stay in contact with other writers—to me that’s part of writing. But I’ll never again let my personal happiness hinge on publication, I’ll never again attempt to write only to market. Life’s too short and I value mine too much. Family, friends, pets, and many other dreams and enjoyments are all too precious.

    Mark, I’ve always liked that particular Lennon quote, though it took me years to take it fully to heart. I still have plans, and damned ambitous ones. But the fun is now in the journey there.

    Blogdog, absolutely! One reason I first got into technical writing—as an editorial assistant—was so I could tell people I was in “the business”—removed as my portion of the business was from being a published novelist. Then, when I became a technical writer I was thrilled because I was actually getting paid to write—something—anything. Silly, because I already knew I wanted to write fiction, and I did, but I thought I had to get paid to do it before I was “really” a writer. But the real satisfaction in that job was the same as it is with fiction—finishing a project and knowing I’d done my best. Technical writing is pretty cut and dried, though. It’s easy to know when you’ve done it right, at least with the type I did, where someone went out and tested the procedures on a machine once I was done. Fiction is more like raising kids, I think. It’s hard to tell along the way whether you could’ve done something better or different. It’s all so subjective. Some of us take longer to develop a feel for it than others. Some never do.

  5. Eric Mayer says:

    I doubt I’d be writing fiction if Mary and I hadn’t got married and started co-writing. I’d never sold on my own and had decided I’d rather write nonfiction which I could sell — for my ego — and write essays, draw mini-comics, and such for amateur venues for fun. Mary talked me into co-writing mysteries.

    It is more fun to “get published” because of the larger audience and the fact that whatever money you make helps subsidize the effort. Publishing is too screwed up to *fail* at. Who knows how much is skill and how much luck? Nobody. What feels like failure might just be bad luck. Success may be only good luck. You can’t fail at the lottery.

    I’ve know people who have destroyed their lives, their families, marriages because of their obsessive need to get published. Actually all those things are more important than another book in the world anyway. You have to do it for fun, then if you come up with something you like, well, you’ve bought a ticket, might as well check and see if you have a winning number but don’t count on it. The book we’re working on now…we are doing because we wanted to. It is a bad idea, sale wise. But I said, basically, it is a big crapshoot. If I don’t enjoy all the time spent writing this book that no one is waiting for (non-mystery) I’m probably wasting my time so I’m going to write exactly what I (well, we) want to and enjoy it. I think you’ve got to take that attitude.

  6. Reenie says:

    It’s sites like yours and Mark’s that inspire me – and slaps some sensibility into me. There’s also that clubby feeling, a sense of belonging, not being alone. Writing can be such an isolating pursuit.

    Barbara, your 3rd paragraph regarding regrets was sad to read. My obsessive urge to write came late in life. Maybe that’s given me a slight edge. I’ve sacrificed nothing in order to write. I reared three splendid children, maintained a tidy home, prepared a nice meal each evening, and kept my dog’s bowl filled with fresh water. My writing has come late in life, but maybe perfectly late.

    I personally think the downtrodden, hard boozing, suffering writer is a stereotypical myth (not that you implied you are any of these). But then, maybe I’m lucky. When I write (even if it is a dark scene) my senses are unclouded, the adrenaline is startling, my mind becomes dizzy only because of the creative excitement my efforts are able to imbue. After a successful day of writing, that’s when I’m most apt to get shit-faced (am I allowed to say that on your site?), and write some illegible notes for my next day’s foray with words.

    Given all that, I’ve still had my dark moments – more gray than black. As I’ve written before, when I started to peddle my manuscript I was certain my folks had erred by not naming me Hope because I had so much of it. Silly me.

    I’ve come so close (to my way of thinking) with quite a few nibbles (more like chomps) at my manuscript. But all have come up empty. Not empty, really, because each nibble has given me invaluable hope.

    Giving up is not an option for me – for all the reasons you stated. To quit would feel like failure. As much as I would LOVE to be published, I’m also enjoying the ride. I’m intoxicated with the process – the wonderment of discovering a well-crafted sentence, uniquely mine. I’m compelled to look over my shoulder and gasp, “Where did that come from?” With so few surprises left in life, writing provides a new frontier of discoveries for me. And like a lottery ticket – one has to buy one in order to win - same is true with my manuscript. If I don’t peddle it, I won’t get published. Unfortunately the odds are even.

    Critiques are so gosh darn necessary, but so many are ill-prepared, soul damaging - especially if the critique is subjective rather than objective. Because I am new to writing, I know my enthusiasm is irritating. I’ve been blindsided by other’s cynicism because of my naiveté. I do not have street smarts and my hope is sometimes grating. I feel that some writers I know have lost their own sense of wonderment – they’ve become so disenchanted they can’t bear to be in the company of a neophyte believer like me.

    I took a vacation from writing this summer. I shifted my energies to my garden. It was divine. But like any vacation, I was ready to return home - to my computer, my writing. And like any vacation, I returned refreshed and eager to renew my efforts.

    One last observation. As I approach the end of my fifth decade, I own a different hurdle – publishing houses want youth, longevity, a cash cow. Though any of us could slip on the proverbial banana peel and be gone, my clock is ticking closer to demise than many writers. Yet, I persist. It must be that I am happy living my whole life? It must be that I am happy when writing? It must be that I feel I have nothing to prove? My writing doesn’t define the whole of me.

  7. Peter says:

    This was a very enlightening entry, and the comments have been great as well.

    I would love to be published someday, but right now I am trying not to think about it. I’m choosing instead to just enjoy the creative process.

    When I have a particularly creative session, be it via writing, painting, or even coming up with a clever solution to a thorny problem at work, I’m infused with positive energy. It’s a natural high, and I find myself in a better mood, with more energy and more zest for life. There is nothing better than getting into “the zone” when writing a story, when the words flow effortlessly and the story seems to write itself. However, if I’m in the middle of writing and I start to think about publication, then the writing seems to slow to a crawl. The thoughts of publication have distracted me from the most important thing, the story.

    Next Tuesday, I’m doing NaNoWriMo. I’m not sure what to expect, but I am looking forward to it. I’m hoping to meet many other writers in the area, and I think that there will be a real sense of camaraderie. I chose the idea for my book not because I thought it would be the most publishable, but because the idea is one that I want to explore for myself in more depth, and I think that the best way to do it would be to write a novel about it. We’ll see.

  8. violetismycolor says:

    Barbara, I think that you are amazing…very honest and introspective. Writing is hard work and incredibly competitive. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be. Keep going, Barbara. Do it for yourself.

  9. Thanks, Eric, Reenie, Peter and violetismycolor. In fact, thanks everyone, for your enlightening, encouraging and understanding comments to this post. I had a dream last night about capturing a bird in my hand, mid-air. Not something I would ordinarily try to do, but this bird, a parakeet, was flying at two cats and the cats were swatting at it. Something had to be done. I caught it and thought it would surely bite me, but it turned out to be a sweet, tame bird that settled into my grasp and let me hold it.

    I think of writing—in fact any artwork—as being a little like that act of catching the bird mid-flight. Ideas and inspirations are sometimes quick, elusive. They often convey messages we wouldn’t normally think ourselves capable of handling. It’s like coming across something that is ripe to be harvested. We capture a moment, a message, a gift. To me writing is like that. If I keep writing I place myself in the place and time where every now and then something comes along for me to grasp and hold, perhaps treasure, or simply save in some way, possibly a way that allows others to benefit. If I can do that, the process provides the reward.

    Keeping on writing . . .

  10. Ray Salemi says:

    I read this thread yesterday and it really stuck with me. I’d like to add one other thought to it.

    I think it’s important to think of getting published as a financial goal rather than an indication of the validation of one’s writing; because once you are published you run into another validation hurdle, does anyone read your book?

    Anne Lamott addresses this better than I could in “Bird by Bird” but I can share my experience. Last year I had a non-fiction management book published. There was a real thrill in walking into Barnes and Noble that first time and seeing my book on the shelf.

    But like all external thrills this one was quickly gone. And, as my book went largely unpurchased, it soon left the shelves of Barnes and Noble and was returned to my publisher. I now sit around 1.3Million on the Amazon Best Seller List.

    So is it better to be published and unread or never published? I’ve come to the conclusion that both are meaningless as validations of my writing. I found that I woke up the day after being published with the same litany of aches, pains and need for breakfast that I had the day before. The worries were largely the same, but now I had an additional concern of “Will someone ever buy my book?” “Should I do more marketing?” etc.

    I hope that you do get the opportunity to be published since it is fun. But I think that the writing is the key and the publishing might be best thought of as an incidental bonus rather than as a validation of ones work.

  11. Reenie says:

    I enjoyed reading Ray’s observations on being published. His candor was refreshing. My story is similar – with a twist. Several years ago I was hired to write the copy for a coffee table book on Laguna Beach. Several pages were dedicated to the city’s history and then there were about 10 essays focused on different areas of interest. It was a beautiful project. The twist was that the publisher gave me a byline. It was an unusual thing to do and one I didn’t expect.

    Of note, ANYONE who has been published knows there are variables beyond the writer’s control – layout issues, editors, proofreaders – they all put their fingers in the pot. Though my copy remained 100% intact, there was a layout squeeze and a comma was omitted. Can you guess where this is going? After publication, more often than not, my friends and acquaintances, though quick to express praise, were equally quick to point out the missing comma and other needless observations. My big mouth gets me into a lot of trouble, but I simply smiled and thanked people. Arghhh.

    Then there were the book signings – the gushing and clearly undeserved over-the-top praise. I say that the praise was undeserved because so many people put us writers in a Utopian category. I wanted to screech, “I’m just a person who puts words down on paper.” Lest you think I was/am ungrateful – I’m not. I simply became the proverbial dog who had caught the hubcap and didn’t know what to do with it. I had accomplished a dream (albeit an unexpected byline) and then was stumped. Writing is a curious journey fraught with insecurities, neurotic behaviors. Even validations make us quirky.

    I think the very biggest thrill was to enter bookstores and find ‘my’ book. It was an amazing feeling. But yeah, I’m about 2 billion with Amazon’s sales. Oh, and the byline is Irene Bean (before I married). My byline on this site is Reenie because that’s what family and friends call me, and sometimes it affords me anonymity. Guess I’ve blown my cover!

    Today, I’m trying to get published again. I think I’ve learned that it’s not the recognition I hunger for – I want people to read my words for pleasure, growth and emotional exploration. I want people to savor my efforts like one would savor a flavorful soufflé – accomplished because of a good recipe and the integrity of its ingredients.

    The money would be sweet, too!

  12. James says:

    Terry might have a point (heavy emphasis on MIGHT), but his presentation is unbelievably poor. I’ve never thought much of writers who come across with an, “I’ve got mine, so you can go f— yourself,” and Terry’s mini-essay is just another of that kind of thing.

    Certainly there’s more to writing than publication. As I have often told people: when the money breaks out against the hours spent, one would be better off picking strawberries as a migrant worker. At the same time, there’s no excuse for dashing through the hall of dreams, kicking over aspirations and pissing on hope.

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