There’s one question I often hear, from my students and from other people in the wider world: How does one become a writer?
It’s a question that seems extremely easy to answer, and one which I am probably guilty of answering blithely on more than one occasion: In order to be a writer, one must write.
I get it: you can write, but what if no one is reading? What if you’re writing, and you’re not getting paid for it?
Those are good questions, but they’re more questions of business or success. They tangle with another thought I often have when the topic comes up: The difference between people who want to BE writers, and people who want to WRITE.
There are FAR more of the former than the latter, I’ve come to realize. It’s very important that you identify what’s going on in YOUR head when you think about writing:
Do you want to BE a writer? Or do you want to WRITE?
BEING a writer is easy…seemingly. There’s a lot of ‘trying’ involved; a lot of ‘research’, and a lot of talking. BEING a writer involves a lot of talking about OTHER people’s writing, I’ve noticed. You might be able to parlay it into a drink or two at a party; you should, if you’re any good, get to manipulate conversations around to a witty remark or two.
There’s a certain aura involved with BEING a writer, I’ve noticed. Or, actually, more to the point, there is a certain aura in those who WANT to be a writer.
But that’s where it sort of falls apart for me…because in order for you to BE a writer, there’s really only one prerequisite: you need to WRITE.
I have had many students over the years, and friends outside my classroom, who were very good writers. Several better than me, probably. But I got some breaks, made some connections, and ended up working for several different people (it was never companies for me, it was always people), writing wildly diverse things (some great fun, some not so much), and eventually, I was writing books of my own.
In the end, those students and friends of mine who did some writing, who had the talent, who wanted to BE writers … they didn’t write. Not a lot. Not enough, anyway. There was always something more important, more pressing, more interesting for them to do. They would sigh, they would say how much they wished they had the time. Then they’d go on to whatever it was that was demanding their time; more often than not it was watching TV, playing video games, watching sports, etc.
They would have loved to BE a writer.
But in the final analysis, they didn’t want to actually WRITE.
And there’s NOTHING wrong with that! It’s important to know what you want in life, or if you DO get it, it’ll only be through sheer luck.
Writing, in the end, is a very lonely pursuit. And sometimes it can be grueling. Sometimes it’s the LAST thing you want to do with your time.
But if you want to WRITE, you need to WRITE.
If you want to BE a writer, but you don’t want to WRITE, you’re in very good company. But you can’t be a writer. It’s a very intriguing relationship between desire and fulfillment. All you have to do is DO it…but DOING it is often far removed from the apparent benefits of having DONE it.
You’ve got to WRITE.
Write in a journal. Write short stories. Write descriptive paragraphs, character analyses, moments of dialogue that might say nothing at all.
Write until your fingertips hurt from pounding on the keyboard (I’ve had to replace more keyboards due to vanishing a’s, n’s, and s’s than I care to think about.
And that’s really all there is to it: You have to WRITE. Don’t worry about inspiration, don’t worry about crafting the next Great American Novel. Don’t even worry if it makes sense or not. For now, just WRITE.
The rest will come, with time.
There is a sentiment that floats around authors and aspiring authors. I’ve heard it several times, from several different people, and each usually attributes someone totally different. I’ve heard it was Ray Bradbury, Jerry Pournelle, Robert Heinlein, or thriller writer John D. McDonald. No matter who is being quoted, though, the sentiment is always the same, and I’m afraid I agree:
If you want to be a writer, bend yourself to the work through the first million words…then you’ll have an idea of what you really want to do.
Now, sadly, I KNOW I’ve put down WAY more than 1,000,000 words by now, delivered and paid for…and I STILL have no clue, sometimes, what I’m doing or what I want to do…
But I still write.
And that’s all you have to do to be a writer:
Write.
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