There are conversations in life that we expect. Ubiquitous questions we all encounter from “What’s your name?” to “Where are you from?” and “What do you do for a living?”
While, being a military brat, I struggle with the second question, it is that last question that gives me pause. What do I do? Do I cop to it or play it down? The first thing that pops in my brain is “What should I say?”
It’s not that I don’t know what I do for a living. That would be absurd. It’s more a question of should I share what I do. Will my answer be accepted or used as a springboard to an entirely different conversation?
I am sure the other writers out there will agree. We’ve all been there. The minute we admit to being a writer, everything changes.
I love being a writer. It’s why I do what I do and why I write a blog about it. I can’t imagine doing anything else…most days. I love words, books, stories, research. All of it. It’s my passion.
What I don’t like is being asked that question. Too often my reply is followed by, “I’ve always wanted to write. How do I do that?” or “I have a novel idea…” followed by a lengthy description of their plot, no matter how I try to stop them or, worse, a thinly veiled sneer. Or the dreaded, “What have you written that I would know?”
Let’s take these in order:
The wanna be writer’s are fine. They are eager and want to learn. I don’t mind answering questions. It’s why I started this blog in the first place. But there is a time and place for that. A funeral is not one of them. Also, though I am happy to share, I do expect someone who is interested in doing this for a living, to have done their basic research. They should know something before they start asking random strangers questions. But even those who are hopelessly new, I help by steering them to reputable sources, like this blog.
No, newbies are fine. It’s the other responses that make me cringe.
There is an answer to the question “how do I become a writer?” but it is difficult to say it without sounding flippant. The truth is the only way to become a writer is to write. It is that simple. Note, I did not say publish. I said write. And I didn’t say easy. Being a writer is not easy; but it is rewarding and worth it.
The problem with talking about writing is that most people only talk about it. They want to share ideas and talk about being a writer without picking up a pen or sitting down at a computer and doing it. That’s the hard part. Talking about it as an abstract.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I love talking about writing and books–the process, the stories, my favorites. I love sharing my passion for the craft. What I don’t enjoy as much is talking about things that are not happening. Writing is not an abstract for me. It is my profession. My love. My craft. It is something I do.
If someone wants advice on a particular point in writing, I will gladly answer. If they want to discuss story tropes or plot or characterization, I’m there. Favorite authors? Always. Favorite books? Definitely (although this question is fraught with its own hazards–how can I play favorites?). Even a specific issue they are encountering while writing their book is great.
Talking about pie in the sky ideas that will likely never happen? Not my idea of fun. I don’t want to talk about books that are not happening. If there is nothing on paper. No beginning. No details. No plan. I’d rather pass. If you aren’t willing to take the time to devote to your story, don’t expect me to do it.
Okay, I know this sounds harsh. I don’t mean it to be. It’s just that after two decades of making my way as a writer, I’ve lost my patience. If you want to write, write. If you want to learn how to write, ask questions. I will gladly chat with you. Please keep your story ideas to yourself though, unless you want to hire me for a critique or edit. Otherwise, I have enough ideas of my own and enough consultant work for pay, thanks. Besides, my lawyer encourages me to avoid hearing other peoples’ ideas so I am not accused of stealing their ideas.
But what about that third response? I have run into some odd perceptions of writers. I have been accused of spending my life in my PJs, which I don’t do. (I prefer yoga pants, thank you.) I’ve been told I must be an alcoholic because Hemingway was one. I won’t even dignify that with a response. But mostly, the sneer comes with a dismissal, the idea that a writer is a frivolous occupation and not worthy of speaking to, at least not at professional events or social events. This has happened more often than I’d like to admit. Somehow I always find myself on the side with the graphic designers, producers, photographers and florists. We have fun, but it is annoying. As an introvert, I typically have to force myself to these things anyway. I could do without the attitude.
But the worst is being asked what I have written that the person asking has seen. How am I supposed to know what they have seen or read? And how does answering that validate or invalidate my career? Instead, they’d be better asking what I write and why. If they’ve read or seen it, they can tell me. If not, we can have an interesting conversation, especially if it is about story or books.
Most days, I am happy to tell the world I am a writer. Most days, I beam with pride as I say it. Some days, I mumble and turn away. If I am on the backside of a production and exhausted, I won’t engage. But no matter how I respond, I always ask myself how to answer before I do. Being a writer is a minefield. It invites questions and opinions. It’s not one of those professions that people accept and move on. There is nearly always a reaction. Be prepared for that. But don’t lie and say you are a proctologist, unless you want to engage in a very uncomfortable conversation!
Then again, I may have written this blog as a response to this prolonged retreat from the world. The thought of going back out there among the multitude gives me pause. Will I remember how to do it? Have I lost my social skills? Or have I retreated too far into my introversion and rather like the hermetic lifestyle? I hope not.
Please, ask me questions about writing or story. Talk to me about books, films, television shows. Just don’t ask me about writing that you are not doing. Oh, and, if you value your life, never tell me you want to write a book, but don’t read them. You would be amazed how often I have heard this and it makes me a bit psychotic. Please, just don’t. I will lose it.