Why Writers Disappear (Part Two)
Kris and Dean continue to provide lots of good advice and information for authors.
From Kristine Kathryn Rusch:
Writers disappear because they get discouraged.
It’s really easy to discourage a writer. Writers are a fascinating mix of insecurity and ego. The ego comes in believing that they have something to say, something that the world needs or wants to hear. The insecurity comes from everything else.
From parents who want their child to do something “practical,” to teachers who take it upon themselves to dismiss the less “talented” among their students, to the editors/agents/publishers who reject with forms, the entire world (it seems) exists to tell writers they shouldn’t follow their dreams and they should get a “real” job.
It’s taken me decades to say to people, “Hey, my job is real. It’s just unusual.”
There’s also an attitude, particularly among professional writers, that writers who can be discouraged should be discouraged. My reaction to that sentence, which I first heard from one of the professional writers teaching during my year as a student at the Clarion Writers Workshop, was a reader’s reaction. Why should voices be silenced? What if those voices have interesting things to say or great stories to tell? Just because a writer isn’t “tough” by another writer’s definition doesn’t mean she’s not worthy of the profession itself.
Still, those instructors have one valid point: writing is hard. Not on the rocket-science/brain-surgery side of hard or on the twelve-hours-of nonstop-manual-labor side of hard, but on the invent-your-own-path-and-survive kind of hard. It takes a tough person to handle the continual ups and downs of the profession.
. . . .
What can discourage a writer?
I think the most common thing is the constant negativity inbred into the profession. Writers get told from the beginning that their dream is impractical, or they’re not good enough, or they should be writing “art,” or they should make money first or…or…or…
Then the writer achieves a goal—she sells her first short story to a major market or her first article gets published. Usually those endeavors sink without a mention, and the writer must repeat the success somehow.
Or the first book comes out and mingled among the good reviews are negative ones. Writers train themselves to hear the negative only—how else will I improve? they think—and don’t realize that the negative reviewers might be responding to taste.
. . . .
Writers who get discouraged never understand what success they’ve already had. They don’t know that most people who call themselves writers never finish a novel or market a short story. They don’t know that the first sale is a triumph, whether that sale is to a major magazine or a sale to an unknown reader through an e-reading device.
They don’t understand that ten positive reviews of their first novel mean so much more than any negative review.
And they don’t understand the journey. A writing career isn’t a destination. It’s not one sale or twenty. It’s about a lifetime of sales, about writing more books, stories, poems, and articles than you can remember in any one sitting.
. . . .
Indie writers get discouraged when they realize how much work this profession actually is. More than one book? More than one cover? What about ten books that don’t sell well? What about twenty?
Those writers have to look to their skill level, their book package, and their expectations. Some writers will strike it rich by publishing their own books, but most writers won’t.
Like traditional writers, indie writers need to be in this profession for the love of writing, and when something—or someone—steals that love away from the writer, the writer has to do whatever it takes to recover the love. Sometimes that’s writing something that’s just for the writer; sometimes it’s avoiding writers workshops or reading reviews; sometimes it’s several years of therapy.
More writers quit because they get discouraged than for any other reason. And often, it’s not a conscious decision; they gradually stop and don’t notice for years. The readers notice, though. To them, the writer has disappeared.
Link to the rest at Kristine Kathryn Rusch
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Lots of people wannabe writers. Those who disappear, in my opinion, don’t keep it up. When I decided to become a writer at age 33, it took me two years to sell an article. Since then, 1976, I can count the articles turned down on the fingers of my hands. I wrote a novel in 1979 for a contest. I didn’t win, so I assumed I could not write fiction. My writing from that time on was nonfiction and commercial. But it was writing, and that’s how I earned (earn) my living. That novel sold in 2000. Now I have a dozen published and people ask ME to write short stories for anthologies (but the fiction does not pay the bills, the nonfiction does). But I write. And write. Every day (unfortunately not all day), I write. I can’t imagine not writing. I am a writer.
Great – needed – post. Thanks.
I linked to it from post on my blogs.
Yeah, discouragement can be a killer. Sometimes it feels like you’re shouting into an empty well and just hearing your own echo. So I can see how that would drive people away. It’s a pretty harsh thing to have to struggle through, but I assume we all have to struggle through it.
For those of you who don’t have to struggle through it, don’t tell me. I’ll just hate you for it.
Reading about how easy it is to discourage a writer made me feel very sad.
This is a terribly important topic that isn’t discussed enough. I’m very glad she’s writing about it. It’s a great post.
I could be wrong, but it seems to me that no other art form gets hit in the same way that writing does. People don’t tell photographers that they have to be tough, or they aren’t a real photographer.
I agree with Kris when she says: “I think the most common thing is the constant negativity inbred into the profession”. It’s awful what this Industry does to writers. They say: hey we’re treating you badly, but that’s because if you’re a ‘real’ artist, you can take it. We’re just ‘weeding out’ the bad ones.
This is just a way to rationalize the fact that they are treating the writer badly.
And there’s a very important truth that gets completely missed in this: Talent and the ability to persevere in hardship are not the same thing.
In fact, it’s possible that these qualities oppose each other in some people.
Artists can be sensitive. The more sensitive ones may be the ones that disappear, and that may be a tremendous loss to the culture that their talent and voices got silenced. Not to mention what it does to any artist to have their dream die.
This is wrong.
I’m hoping that this will change. The self-publishing opportunites are gentler and less harsh than Legacy Publishing was. And writers may start to realize that rather than being in competition with other writers, the opposite is true. The more good books are out there, the more readers will want more good books. One good writer can bolster the careers of several others. There is room for everyone, and that includes those who are more tender, but still have talent and a voice that should be heard.
Oh, I’ll add a real life example. Harper Lee refused to write another book after “To Kill A Mockingbird” because the process of getting published was too hard on her.
Such an immeasurable loss.
Also, I don’t want what I said above to be misunderstood. I also think that talent and the ability to persevere in hardship can go hand and hand.
But not always.
I’ll just correct you on one point there:
“You’ve got to be tough and learn to handle criticism” is basic to ALL of the arts. As a matter of fact, I’d go so far as to say the difference between writing and the other arts is that writers seem to have a much harder time with the concept than other artists. With the other arts, criticism and standards are not considered to be negativity. That’s the norm.
All the same, you are correct that there is something special about the negativity in publishing.
IMHO, there is something insidious about traditional publishing, something that happened to transfer the negativity from the process into the writing culture.
I mean you do see the snobbery and one-upsmanship in the other arts, especially fine arts, but the slush pile has done something to author cultures to turn it from a matter of personalities to a codified behavior.
Oh, and to end on a hopeful note: I do think that indie publishing will change that aspect of publishing. Not that it will change human nature, but we are now free to spread out into different groups with different motives and different standards.
Last night I added another comment to Kris’ post (it hasn’t been approved yet) pointing out that another commenter was right: there is more than just “hobby” or “business” out there now. Because of indie publishing, we have the wider range of choices and cultures that the others arts have.
I think one real problem with writing compared to other arts is that being a sunday writer is somehow unacceptable. Writers must publish or be damned.
It’s strange: I’ve always wanted to be a pro writer, but I feel sad for all those people who are sunday writers who aren’t ‘respectable’ who may never want or expect to write a book but simply want to have fun.
Many people are sunday writers who don’t want to go pro.
Actually, being a Sunday writer is every bit as acceptable as a Sunday painter or photographer. Lots of people write privately just as those weekend artists draw privately. Lots of people write for their friends or fan groups only.
Honestly? The difference is that the Sunday painters and photographers don’t think of themselves as like pros at all. Very often they don’t think of themselves as artists. They just like to create stuff. They don’t consider it negative to be excluded from an artshow. They wouldn’t even think of trying to get into a gallery.
And many writers are the same way, but an awful lot of them can’t see the difference between themselves and the pros. They’re like kids wandering out onto the field during a professional football game and not seeing that it isn’t just a pick up game where anybody can join in. And they get hurt. But other artists don’t do that the way writers do.
But….
Here’s the thing that Kris doesn’t get, and I think I’ll do my Wednesday blog post on this: there’s a difference between a hobbyist and an amateur.
Once upon a time the word “amateur” held great respect. You couldn’t compete in the Olympics unless you were an amateur. Going pro was something you did when you retired from amateur competition.
A hobbyist does it for fun, and doesn’t care about criticism or status — just has a good time. And hobbyists make money at it too.
An amateur is just like a pro — works at a higher level, makes huge sacrifices for the the sake art/sport, may not have any fun at all — but doesn’t do it for money.
Once upon a time the word “amateur” held great respect. You couldn’t compete in the Olympics unless you were an amateur.
Yes; because you had to be rich to compete in the Olympics as an amateur. (This was before government funding for sport, and when corporate sponsorships were considered to make you professional per se.) To compete as an amateur meant that you were a gentleman (or lady), and not one of the Great Unwashed who had to do things for money.
That kind of respect, we’re better off without.
Olympic politics aside (I could say plenty about what money has done to professional sports, too)….
The fact was the greatest athletes in the world once were amateurs, and pros were hacks. And in some sports that is still true. (Heck, some of us feel that way about college vs. pro basketball.)
The point is that publishing has moved to a point where classical amateurism can thrive. No need for sponsors. And heck, because there is no standing to protect, the amateur in indie publishing can and does make money.
We are no longer in that world of publishing where everybody was either a pro or invisible.
Camille, I think that was my post you were responding to.
Part of the reason I wince at being called a “hobbyist” is that I saw what happens when an artist gives up on his art. My father, an abstract expressionist, gave up on independent art and became a teacher. He was a fine teacher for forty years, but the workload and the stress kept him mostly out of his studio for the rest of his life. I have heard him called a “hobbyist” by those unaware of the stress of a full time teaching career.
I think you’re right; there has to be another word for those of us who can’t make a living writing, but who don’t give up. I’d like to say that word is “writer”, but apparently we can’t convince the masses of that.
That word is writer. It’s also artist, fine artist, literary writer, artisan. Geek.
As I said to Thomas, it would have once been “amateur” which held a whole different connotation than it does today.
There’s nothing wrong with being a hobbyist either — it involves way less stress — but a serious writer who isn’t in it for the money is still a writer.
With indie publishing, we’re going to see a whole LOT more of the amateur/fine-art mindset. It’s nothing new. It’s just that in publishing, there has never been a place for the serious amateur — the serious amateur had to go pro to get published.
Now there is no such need. And the serious amateur can make money as well.
Semi-pro? I actually think plenty of trad-pubbed authors were not professionals if the definition of pro is not having a day job…I think the industry actually discouraged the full time pro – how many agent sites still talk about don’t count on quitting your day job? But I concur their needs to be a term that expresses a serious study of craft that goes beyond what hobbyist or amateur connotes. No ideas for an alternate term though
I could be wrong, but it seems to me that no other art form gets hit in the same way that writing does. People don’t tell photographers that they have to be tough, or they aren’t a real photographer.
Movies. Not only do you have to be tough, but you probably have to spend years making coffee before you get a major production role on any movie, unless you fund it yourself or sleep with the producer.
The rejections definitely discourage new writers from continuing on writing. We want to be validated for what we did and do. Rejections are not limited to writers only; anyone in arts suffers from the same issue. Many years ago I brought my modern art to work to show to my colleagues. One woman walked by and laughed. It hurt me and I didn’t paint again for 19 years. I paint now, and my attitude is I am an artist and I’m good at it.
My book “Arboregal” got rejected by publishers and agents alike, What to do? Roll over and die? Maybe the critics would have liked that. After some soul searching I found the answer. Why do I write? Because I am a storyteller and I want to live in my fantasies. I enjoy my stories and writing is the easiest way to bring them to life. Therefore I write.
I heard many times that writers need to write for their audience. I disagree. No one knows what the readers want. Writers should first write for themselves. If they enjoy what they’re doing they will never stop writing. And if they find an audience that’s just icing on the cake. Writers that got discouraged and stopped, wrote for the wrong reasons: money, fame, quite your job, adulation, etc.
If you enjoy what you’re doing you’ll keep on doing even if money or fame does not come, quickly. Keep at it and it will come aplenty.
The industry itself does it to us–none of us would disagree. The sad thing is when we do it to each other. One writers’ group says congrats on that first sale, but oh, by the way, the publishing house isn’t big enough, or it’s an e-book, so it doesn’t count. Or another group keeps lists of approved houses, and if you sell elsewhere, you’re not published enough.
I need not go on; most of us have seen this happen in one form or another. The indie path, while freeing, will take its share of snobbery on a similar fashion.
Shame on us both for doing it, and for taking it.