I write, but I am not a writer
by Steve
Upon asking the question, “What do you do, then?” surely the most chilling words us bloggers can hear are:
“I’m a writer.”
This is not going to end well. If they genuinely are, we are consumed by a combination of admiration and envy. If it turns out they write blurbs for catalogues or other such hackery, then we are beyond annoyed.
After all, we write. We write regularly, on all manner of subjects. And we care about what we write.
But does that make us writers?As a kid I loved putting together my own comics, magazines and newspapers. I loved writing them. But I loved the production of them just as much. It was a wonderful sensation to have a real, actual artefact in my hands, which I had created. Obviously, being a kid, the production values were not high. We’re talking about a few pages stapled together. As I got a little older, it may have been typed, with some Letraset thrown in for headlines. But I loved the whole process.
As an adult, I’ve fallen for blogging. I enjoy writing, but I enjoy it far more for it being presented on a professional-looking website. It is an integral part of a tangible product, as opposed to being hidden away in a notebook. It is my grown-up stapled comic book, or badly typed magazine.
And people actually read it! Not many, I grant you. But those who do, and who comment, appear to be lovely, interesting and interested people. And people who write too. Really well. This is the audience I never had as a kid.
But does that make me a writer?
Or should I get caught up in believing that to be a writer, you should actually be published, or at least paid to write? I’ve written stuff as part of my job, but it was hardly my heartfelt life’s work. I wouldn’t consider myself to be a writer, as such, professionally.
But is a regular(ish) blog evidence enough to be a writer? It feels a little pretentious to view it that way, doesn’t it? There are great blogs and great bloggers out there. But there are also some truly awful, lazy ones. And my suspicion is that blogging is just too easy for bloggers to be considered ‘writers’ also. How long does it take to set a blog up – five minutes?
Reading The Guardian’s rules for writers it seems that proper, successful, real writers consider hard work, persistence and talent to be key tenets of writing. I’m not convinced I fulfil any of those.
Hard work. I’ll often just throw something up on here. I’m sure this blog is littered with typos and errors. My arguments are not always coherently thought-through and presented (this very post is a shining example). I hardly research. I barely edit. I spend far too much time coveting stationery, or fantasising about my perfect writing desk. I read more than most, but I still fall into the trap of reading rubbish. I’ll just as soon pick up one of London’s many, terrible, free magazines as a great novel.
Persistence. My updates are sporadic at best. I have a plum gig writing a column for BaseballGB, with a hugely supportive webmaster, yet often, shamefully, I let it slip. Here, on my own blog, I veer from one subject to the next, with little thought for my poor readers. I rarely see through any grand plans. I have ideas buzzing around my head for stories, yet I never get anywhere with them.
Talent. I’ve written some good stuff. I’ve written some dross. Beyond that, we’ll leave this one, as I think we’ve had enough self-pitying for one day.
So, I wouldn’t label myself a writer just yet. I doubt I would even label myself a blogger. I write, I blog, but that is as far as it goes right now, until I truly throw myself into either. If I truly throw myself into either. Maybe I’ll just be happy with a shiny product. A blog, that I created.
Of course, I could quit getting hung up on semantics, and just get on with it.
But if I am a writer, I think I am because I have an audience. A small, perfectly formed audience. Thank you for reading.
Very nicely written, Steve.
For me, writing is first and foremost an emotional thing rather than a functional one. As you suggest, the mere act of setting up a blog does not automatically confer the title ‘writer’ upon someone, but if that blogger then produces output fuelled by passion, the desire to tell a coherent story or share an opinion, and the hope that what he/she has produced is done to the best of their ability (rather than “because it’s a week since I last blogged”), then there is something of the ‘writer’ about them.
I write about stuff I love. Sometimes I hope it will entertain others; mostly, I write because the very act of doing so pleases me. Like you, I have a tendency to veer randomly about the place, but I think that if your audience connects with you the person rather than just your content they will forgive you your personal foibles – and at that point you’re definitely a writer. Keep up the good work!
LikeLike
You make some interesting points. I do think you’re getting into semantics, but semantics are important for writers.
I have a novel in my head and a physical word count of exactly zero. Let’s say I start putting the novel on paper. I still wouldn’t call myself a writer yet because a) nobody’s read it yet and b) I haven’t been paid for it. Let’s say I get 100 pages in and give a rough printout for a friend to proofread. If I stop here, I’m not a writer yet, because it’s not a finished product; here in the US, we can’t call John McCain “Mr. President” for similar reasons. So if I keep persisting, finish up, self-publish a few copies from a vanity press and give them to friends and family, does that make me a writer? Probably not–the audience isn’t necessarily willing. If someone buys a copy of my self-published book, I’ve made money off of it, but they only bought the book because they remember that time I said “This novel I’m working on–I think it’s pretty good,” and they either want to a) buy a copy out of friendship or b) laugh at my efforts, I’m still probably not much of a writer, am I, not if the motivation for selling a copy is guilt or irony? But then, I did make money off of it, so maybe. The ideal situation would be for me to finish my book, get a publisher, have Oprah pick it for a book club selection, and win a major book award for my efforts. Then I could say with confidence that I’m a writer.
LikeLike
A great, thought-provoking post. I, and I suspect, many others are very familiar with this particular conundrum and, on my optimistic days I’d certainly echo Tim’s reflections on writing and being a writer being a product of emotion rather than function. It also occurs to me that much of what people mean by the term writer in contemporary parlance implies a silent qualification: they and we have in mind professional writers. Those who get paid and scrape their living through the economic fruits of their published words. There are some good reasons for this but I don’t think that the only way to be a writer is to be someone who derives an income from it. In fact, by that estimation, someone like Salinger, who didn’t publish anything for a significant remainder of his life becomes problematic. By the time he died he was still making money from his published works so by the econimic definition he was a writer. By all accounts, however, any textual creations he was producing were seen by no eyes other than his. Just to be clear, I’m not trying to say that Salinger ceased to be a writer, just to illustrate that predicating definitiosn solely on economics or audience have inherent problems.
I also think you make some good points about the ease with which blogs can be created and the laziness with which they can be maintained. At the same time something about the way some “writers” condescend toward bloggers reminds me a reverse image of the way some early professional authors, writing for money, were looked down upon by their gentlemanly forebears and peers who say writing for income as a grubby exercise. In both cases there’s an element of “if you’re not a writer in a way very close to the way we are writers then you don’t get to be one.” That’s the kind of open-mindedness that really fosters creativity and innovation.
As for reading rubbish, I wouldn’t worry about that. Sometimes, I think, it’s actually necessary. I’ve spent, and spend a lot of my time with those canonical works officially received as ‘great’ but I have a lot of time for what I consider good, well-written trash. Plenty of important literary figures have been fascinated and influenced by stuff that archetypal English Literature teachers would purse their lips at; even Shakespeare and Chaucer told earthy jokes.
Finally, to bring this ramble to an end, I wonder if you’re familiar with Bukowski’s poem “so you want to be a writer?” Depending on my mood I can find this poem either very uplifting or it makes me think I should just give up, never bother scribbling a single line in a notebook every again and just watch reruns of Morse and Star Trek and the Sopranos. I think what Bukowski gives us is his very definite view of what it means and what it takes to be a writer according to his own personal and professinal experience. There’s some advice worth heading there, but it’s not the only blueprint and it certainly ain’t gospel. If you don’t know the poem and are interested you can find it here: link removed just in case (Steve)
LikeLike
Thanks for such interesting, thoughtful posts guys. I’m really pleased with the response.
Tim – the variety of your blog/blogging has been inspiring, as has your work ethic. I like the ’emotional’ tag too – writing about what you care about.
DWS – Self-publishing seems an increasingly grey area, especially as it is so easy now, and with online publishers like Smashwords etc. It seems to be the midpoint between Writing (capital W) and blogging. But maybe Oprah is the real barometer.
MDS – I think blogging, among a supportive environment, is such a great means of fostering creativity. Writers, or potential writers, no longer need to be on campus to hone their work, or to discuss it with others. I’ll happily put up with the scorn of ‘real’ writers, and put up with the dross that populates much of the internet too, for the opportunity to read and share my own work with other like (or un-like minds).
LikeLike
Oh, and that’s a great poem.
Although when I clicked on that link my work PC got some sort of virus! This may have been a coincidence, or perhaps the ghost of Bukowski was trying to tell me something?
LikeLike
Glad you like the poem but the virus causes me great concern. I use this site a fair bit and have repeatedly directed students there to find texts I refer to but don’t ask them to buy or demand they read. Just to be on the safe side I’ll disable the link from my comment. I hope that no lasting damage was done to your system.
LikeLike
I have just recalled that I cannot edit comments I’ve made on your blog once they’ve been posted meaning I can’t remove the link. Perhaps it’s time for me to put the laptop down for a bit?
LikeLike
Ah, it’s fine – it has given the IT department something to do!
I had plenty of tabs open, so it may have been something else.
LikeLike
I’ve removed the link – just in case.
But again, what a great poem.
LikeLike
This is a great post, Steve. Thank you for echoing some of my own thoughts.
I’ve never considered myself a writer, and I was not a faithful diary-keeper as a teenager, but I really do enjoy writing my blog (which is, in its own way, as eclectic as yours). There is some satisfaction to knowing that more people than I am personally acquainted with are taking the time out of their busy day to read my blatherings, and I particularly like being able to see what search string(s) brought them to me.
LikeLike
Thanks Julie. I certainly think there is real satisfaction to be had from knowing others are reading your words. I like keeping things eclectic too, and reading eclectic blogs. I would enjoy reading my favourite writers no matter what the subject, and that holds true for my favourite bloggers too. Hopefully it widens my horizons a little to read posts outside my own knowledge base/comfort zone…
LikeLike
Hello Steve,
I love that, apart from writing about sports, you are also writing about writing now. And writing fiction too. Great new look for your blog as well! (Although it’s probably not really new, just that I haven’t popped in here for a while).
Clarissa
LikeLike
Hi Clarissa, good to hear from you!
Thanks for the compliments on the site. I keep tweaking the look, probably more than I should, as I really should be focusing on the writing.
The fiction writing has been fun so far. It is just finding the time to do it justice. It’s not like blogging, where I can just throw any old nonsense up!
LikeLike
The look is part of the writing, no? Judging a book by it’s cover, and all that.
I actually thought of you because I happened to see your posts on Twitter. Your tweets are funny. Isn’t modern technology strange?
LikeLike
Ah…a twitter follower! Excellent! I’m really enjoying twitter at the moment, and like the immediacy of it. The battle, I guess, is wading through all the dross to get to the good stuff. But there is plenty of good stuff to find.
LikeLike
[…] This may, in fact, be just an apologia for my lack of activity. If I don’t follow up my first, productive, bout of writing with some more, then this is definitely just a weak excuse. But right now it makes me feel a little better about my own process (or lack of it). It doesn’t mean I think I’m on the road to creating a bestseller. Far from it. I’m strictly in the boundaries of hobby-dom right now. I write, but I’m not a writer. […]
LikeLike