When They Don't Understand

Photo credit: Majicdolphin on Flickr

I've noticed an interesting phenomenon. Maybe it’s just me, but I have a sneaking suspicion it’s not. When you tell people that you’re a writer, their reactions (in my experience) tend to vary depending on how well they know you.

It goes a little bit like this:

Strangers: Oh wow! That’s great, what do you write? Have you been published?

Friends: Cool! I’ll definitely buy a copy when you get published!

Best Friends: Oh nice, how’s that going?

Family: Right, right, but you have a job, don’t you?

To further illustrate this phenomenon, I drew a little graph (I did it on Paint, don’t judge):

(Noooo it’s not a triangle, it’s a graph. SEE?)

Ok, so artistic merit aside, I think you get the point.

It’s not that your family thinks less of you than a stranger you happen to talk to at Starbucks, it’s not that they’re selfish, or insecure or don’t want to see you succeed. It’s the opposite, actually.

The problem is the more that people know you, the more that they care. A stranger on the street can be excited about your career and never see you again. They aren’t worse for the wear if things don’t work out, if you can’t pay the bills, if, in the end, your dream doesn’t turn out so dreamy after all.

But your close friends, your family, they don’t want to see that happen to you.

When your family asks about your job, about how you’re going to pay the bills, they’re not trying to crush your dreams; they’re trying to be realistic. It doesn’t mean they don’t believe in you, it doesn’t mean they think you’re a loser, it means they want the best for you. They want you to be able to pay the bills at the end of the month and live a healthy lifestyle.

Until writing starts to bring in some income, they don’t equate writing with job. They think hobby. And let’s be honest, that type of reaction is perfectly natural. Because they don’t understand.

They don’t know that writing is a job long before you make a penny off of it. They don’t know that the time you take to build your platform, the connection you make with future readers, with other writers, the work you put into every page, every paragraph, every word to make it as good as you possibly can is invaluable.

They don’t understand that if you keep improving your craft, and you don’t give up, and you write and edit and read and write, then one day all that effort and time you put into it might just pay off.

They don’t understand and that’s ok. They love you, don’t forget it.

And when your hard work does pays off, they’ll be happy for you and though I hope you don’t say it, you’ll be able to smile and think I told you so. Because you did.

Am I the only one who’s encountered this trend? Have you faced something similar? Share your thoughts! 

The Never-Ending Job of the Writer

Photo credit: Kansas Poetry (Patrick) on Flickr

No one told me the truth about what being a writer means.

I’d been told more than once through my childhood years that I should be a writer, but even as I started to embrace the idea, no one explained to me what it really meant. Because as any writer knows, being a writer is more than just pumping out a poem, story or novel every once in a while.

When you’re a writer, you’re consumed by your passion. There isn’t an on-off switch. Writers don’t sit down and say, “Ok! Time to be a writer now!” then switch it off when it’s convenient. A writer is always taking mental notes for their current or upcoming work. When doing the dishes, driving, doing homework or going out with friends, a writer is watching, listening and feeling the world around them. On a day soaked with fresh rain, a writer closes her eyes and smells the air.

A writer always asks how would I describe this? Always.

You see, sitting down to write is only part of the job. A writer who doesn’t pay attention to the world surrounding them is missing out on a huge opportunity. I cannot stress this enough. This is HUGE.

Just think: How can your character describe the residual sting of a burn if you, the writer, have never been burned? How will your reader feel the chill of a winter storm if you, the author has never sat outside in January?

Last time I accidentally touched the side of the oven, as I ran my hand under cold water I closed my eyes and tried to come up with words to describe it. I’m not a masochist. I’m just a writer, and that’s what writers do.

I’m not saying if you’re a writer you have to experience absolutely everything your characters do—in fact if your characters are as tortured and punished as mine, I sincerely pray that you don’t. And I’m also not saying that when you get hurt you should sit there and describe how it feels instead of getting medical attention. (Please, please, please get medical attention immediately!)

What I am saying is the purest moments in your manuscript happen when you reach past imagination and make the moment real. When you pull that perfect detail from your experiences, that’s when the reader will sit back and say, “That’s what it feels like.”

When you’re a writer, your job is never over. A writer lives and breathes and feels everything around them until they find the right words for their work.

Then they sit down and relive them on paper.

Food for thought: What else is part of the 24/7 job of a writer?