I Can't Do Anything Else
Today, a writer friend of mine was feeling sort of defeated by the writing process. It's such a masochistic thing. Putting yourself out there for rejection, agonizing over your work, self-doubt and all the rest of it. Then I went out for dinner with my oldest child (will be 17 next year), and was told by her that she would have RATHER had a "normal" mom. Now that she's stuck with me, well . . . it is what it is. But she said, "Face it. You're a writer. You're weird. You're eccentric. I love you, but you're NOT normal."
Well, I suppose that is how your teenager is SUPPOSED to feel. But between conversation #1 and conversation #2, I started thinking about what it means to be a writer.
Conversations in my head constantly.
Never sitting in an airport or anywhere without eavesdropping and imagining people as characters.
Jotting down great lines at all hours.
Waking up at 3:00 a.m. because the muse won't shut up.
Rising at 5:30ish every morning to get quiet time to write.
Thinking of my characters as real people.
Crying when something bad happens to them.
Feeling happy when they have a wedding.
So yeah. It amounts to being . . . in the words of a typical teen "kind of nuts." Add to that the idea that I VOLUNTARILY put myself through the masochistic process.
But the thing is, I think you know you're a real writer when you figure out you can't do anything else. Sure, I have had other jobs. A book editor, a ghostwriter, waitress, bartender, blackjack dealer. But all they did was feed the writing process. I can't do anything else. I can't shut it off.
And THAT is a really startling realization. I am doomed and blessed to this career. I would say I am 99% happy about that. I love my job every day (mostly). But it has its burdensome aspects.
So how about you? Could you do anything else? Would you want to? And even if you work a day job, is it all just fodder for your fiction?
Well, I suppose that is how your teenager is SUPPOSED to feel. But between conversation #1 and conversation #2, I started thinking about what it means to be a writer.
Conversations in my head constantly.
Never sitting in an airport or anywhere without eavesdropping and imagining people as characters.
Jotting down great lines at all hours.
Waking up at 3:00 a.m. because the muse won't shut up.
Rising at 5:30ish every morning to get quiet time to write.
Thinking of my characters as real people.
Crying when something bad happens to them.
Feeling happy when they have a wedding.
So yeah. It amounts to being . . . in the words of a typical teen "kind of nuts." Add to that the idea that I VOLUNTARILY put myself through the masochistic process.
But the thing is, I think you know you're a real writer when you figure out you can't do anything else. Sure, I have had other jobs. A book editor, a ghostwriter, waitress, bartender, blackjack dealer. But all they did was feed the writing process. I can't do anything else. I can't shut it off.
And THAT is a really startling realization. I am doomed and blessed to this career. I would say I am 99% happy about that. I love my job every day (mostly). But it has its burdensome aspects.
So how about you? Could you do anything else? Would you want to? And even if you work a day job, is it all just fodder for your fiction?
posted by Erica Orloff at 9:21 PM
18 Comments:
The more I know the more I wish I didn't know, but yes if I did anything else, I'd still write. I'd still be a writer. And as odd as this sounds, the more I write, the more I want to write what I want to write. That makes no sense LOL
And I like to describe the writers life/brain/head as watching TV with the radio on. *g*
EVERYTHING is fodder for the fiction, from my first memory on.
How could all the people I've known all these years, ever imagined that they might end up in a novel some day? :)
It's an interesting question. I've always written stories in my head even when I had no intention of writing them down.
At least it makes life more interesting. How do other people handle being stuck in bank queues or traffic if they aren't making up stories about the people around them? I actually wonder if other people do that but just don't turn them into fiction or if they are thinking of other things altogether.
Hi Amie:
Anytime you make no sense, I think it means you are a writer. LOL! It's so hard to describe "process."
E
Jude:
I agree. Every observation, everything . . . Going back to childhood. But . . . WAY back I blogged on this . . . it's like a hall of mirrors in a funhouse--all distorted by the fictional bent.
E
Kathryn--YES! I never really thought about that. I kind of thought the fact that I hum on line or just stand there patiently while everyone is in holiday freak-out was a Buddhist trait. But no . . . I think it's a writer trait. Just observing!
E
My son just called me 'a writer' the other day with that same sort of 'you're a weirdo' tone. We were making sugar cookies, and suddenly I realized each one needed to have a story. There was broken-leg sugar cookie guy, dead cookie guy, scar-face cookie guy, etc.
Then I realized I could be scarring my child. amd apologized for not being a normal mom who makes happy, sunny cookies.
My son just sighed and declared me 'a writer'.
LOL Michele!
I love that.
I'm going to spend the next few years at university trying to find out whether I can or not.
But today, I came home, lazed around on the bed for a couple of hours, then sat down and wrote for two hours producing 11 pages longhand in my notebook.
I think the answer looks like a no.
In the past, overtime swamped my writing time, big time. I felt as if a part of me were missing. (And I didn't have any time off to spend all those OT dollars anyway ;-)
At one point, I consciously decided to pack it up, trash the manuscript I wrestled with, and NOT be a writer.
The manuscript made it to the bottom of my sock drawer because I couldn't make myself throw it away.
In a few weeks, I dug it out and began revamping it. Besides, I enjoy gathering fodder for my fiction so much, that I can't imagine having meal and not eavesdropping or hearing someone share a story and thinking "what if...."
I truly enjoy your blog, Erica!
Michele:
That is the most priceless story ever!
E
May:
I have a feeling you are a writer through and through.
E
kathy:
I abandoned writing for a short time--but not entirely. I wrote poetry. Some of it published. But I didn't think I had a novel in me. Well . . . proved that theory wrong.
Dear Erica,
I teach two AP English classes and three c.p. sophomore English classes, I'm taking a graduate course in literary theory at The College of New Jersey and I get up at 4 am every weekday morning and write. I feel very hollow if I miss a few days.
And, by the way, Richard Abate at ICM just wrote me a long letter about my latest novel and wants to see it again after I make some changes. I feel like jumping out of my own skin.
I bet if DD (darling daughter) had a "normal" mom, she'd be wishing for a more eccentric one. It's such a teenage syndrome -- coveting what we don't have. Hell, it's a HUMAN syndrome, right? I too at some point in my life can admit to hating my mom and wishing she was someone else. I dread the day when my daughter will feel the same way about me. ::sniff::
Gerry:
I will keep my fingers doubly crossed for you!!!!
E
karm:
It's a pretty astounding thing when it happens. Here I thought I was a devoted, cool sort of mom. Instead, I am simply weird. :-)
E
I started writing for publication in 1993. All this time, with rejection after rejection and little baby success followed by setback after setback, any time I considered quitting, the despair that filled me convinced me there was absolutely no way I could ever do that.
For 13 years I worked a day job while I also wrote (and at times was a full-time mother, too, taking the kids to work with me all day). But since I quit in June to write full time, the thought of going back to a day job fills me with even more dread than the thought of quitting used to.
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