At the end of the day, is it worth it?

[Moon Tree]

Is it worth it? Let me give you a scenario that has happen to me. Since I was a child I was writing little stories here and there, scribbling down ideas, coming up with plots ideas, or what I thought be cool character to design. The problem is I never took any of it serious. Maybe it was because the English language is horrible for me. I am your Typical Irish American, born in the US, so English is my first and only language, but I cant spell and have terrible issues with rules on how it all works. I failed my frist English class in 7th grade, with more to come after that. But the worst for me, is 10 years ago my Step-Father, who raised me, passed. He was Professor at University South Florida, of the English and Literature Department. He was a student of Tolkien at Stanford. He has help hundreds of students become professional writers, including a very popular Fantasy writer, who still lives in Florida. He was published in lots of magazines and also his own books. So books and writing were all around our house as I grew up. I can still hear the Royal typewriter click away as my Father would be writing stories or working on his novel. He used a manual typewriter till his death.
Now to answer the question at hand, I regret not taking my writing seriously; I regret not writing all those years. I regret not showing my father a piece of work and seeing his thought on it. Or reaching the point of were I was good enough were he would edit my book. I am still luckily to have my mom still alive. She has her master in English and spent her career teaching High School English and Literature. So we have gotten closer with me taking my writing seriously. She is editing my book. And yes I have got a little better, far less red marks then I did when I first started year ago.

So I pose this question to the community is it worth it not to write?



I Think Not



Moon Tree

[Nesacat]

In the end if writing is something you love and if it feels a need within you then it is worth it. If it brings you joy to see words fill pages, if it gives you wings and a place to be yourself then it's worth it. If it spills light into your days and gives you one more reason to wake up it's worth it.

And if the work also gets published that is just a bonus.

[Coolhand]

Thanks to everyone who’s replied so far. Been really interesting to read your responses. Seems like most people here would plow on regardless. And possibly steal their older self’s apple mush. I salute you all.

See, less than five years ago I would have said the same thing. Since about age eight I wrote purely for the pleasure of it, and being published would have been a nice bonus, but was certainly not the object of the exercise. Yet about five years ago I turned my sights to getting into print and becoming a professional published writer

And I think that, as a result, I’ve been seduced by the Dark Side of the Pen.

There have been up-sides to the whole thing, true. For example, it’s forced me to seriously improve my skills in order to compete on a realistic level with the seriously talented guys and gals who line the shelves at the local Waterstones. My writing has gone from being a flabby, lazy soldier guarding a boring part of the barracks, to being a Special Forces operator who is expected to be able to jump out of helicopters, march fifty miles on bare feet and then fight a small army single handed with just one toothpick. A blunt toothpick. With a snapped-off point.

It’s also hugely exciting to put a submission together and then send it off to a REAL AGENT (wow!) or a REAL PUBLISHER, (wow!) and then get a REAL REJECTION LETTER (uh?) telling me I REALLY MUST TRY HARDER(doh!).

But there are dark sides, and they’ve turned me into a person I’m not entirely sure I want to be.

I’ve started craving an audience for my work. Really craving someone to tell my stories to, like an egotistical second rate actor staring glumly at an empty theatre hall. I’ve started staring with envy at the books on the shelves, and whimpering like a kicked puppy.

And whilst it’s always nice to hear the latest success story of a newly discovered writer, a little part of me now flinches with jealous rage that someone’s getting published and it’s not bloody me. I’m kind of worried that soon, new writers signing their first contracts are going to glance over their shoulder and see a twisted, vaguely Coolhand-shaped shadow dart away, muttering something about “nasty hobbit writers…stealing my precious…”

It’s also made me massively intolerant of bad writing to the point of irrational behavior. It gets to me way more than it should. One of the reasons I lurk around in the Torchwood thread dripping bile all over the place is because I am totally 100% convinced that I can do better than just about every writer on that show at writing black-ops sci-fi stories. Their writing SUCKS! Yet they are getting paid to write and I am not. And I REALLY HATE THAT!

The paradox here is that if you set yourself the goal of being published it can’t just be about the fun anymore, because you simply won’t push yourself to the limits required to get noticed. But once you DO start pushing yourself like that, it’s like a drug and you can never stop. And if you never manage to see yourself in print…well my precious we’ll just have to sit here in our dark cave won’t we? Yes! Nice Coolhand likes fishes! To catch a fish so juicy sweeeet.. ghollum-ghollum.

I think I might take a holiday from writing and get some perspective on things.

[HoopyFrood]

Ooooh, well if you put it like that!

I stand by my initial comment that I write because I love it and not purely for publication.

But I can certainly identify with some of what you've written above, Coolhand! I admit, I do stand in front of bookshelves at Waterstones or what have you, seething that so many people have been published and not me. Mostly, this doesn't bother me too much, because as I've said, being published is not my number one motive.

However what really makes the green-eyed monster not just rear it's head, but leap out of it's hole and break into tap-dance, is seeing young people getting published. Yeah, I know, I'm bitter...but I when I saw Mountain Boy (Christopher Paolini) getting a book published at the tender age of 19, I wanted to beat him to death with the hardback version of it. Anyway *breathes deeply* I think a few people have already seen my rants about him elsewhere, so I won't bore you all...

And poor writing...ugh...I'm like that with recent horror films. Why can't anyone produce a good horror film anymore? I'm going to boot out all the so called "Horror scriptwriters" and do it all by myself...every single horror film that's currently in the thought process, I'm going to take over and write them my bloody self.

And the major thing for me what turns me away from the idea of publication...I'm really bad at taking criticism...The whole process of someone else editing my story would drive me insane, I'd end up force feeding all the corrected pages to the editor and making them choke on their own suggestions...

So...To be published would be nice one day, of course, and until then I'll keep snipping out the pictures of young authors and taping them to my dartboard...but mostly, it doesn't bother me, because just to write is enough for me.

[Commonmind]

I agree to some extent Coolhand. But, just as the desire to get published can help motivate you and inspire you to hone your craft, it can very well turn you into an impatient, foolhardy, unintelligible mess. Desire leads to haste, haste leads to sub par work, sub par work leads to the Dark Side.

[jackokent]

Originally Posted by Coolhand

One of the reasons I lurk around in the Torchwood thread dripping bile all over the place is because I am totally 100% convinced that I can do better than just about every writer on that show at writing black-ops sci-fi stories.

Yes so could my dog

But seriously, I always think it's like with music. Talent and skill ... yes of course, but mostly it's luck. Just look at who is rich and famous in the music business and then look at who has the talent and skill.

There again if life was fair it would be no fun, where would the gambling come in?

Anyway Coolhand, that acceptance slip could be winging it's way to you as we speak. Don't give up.

[SJAB]

Yes, it is worth it.

Though I moan, groan, doubt myself and swear I will never write or submit anything again. I do, being trying for nearly ten years. Strange thing when I started Peter Morwood told be with hard work and luck in ten years I would begin to sell things. And last year I clocked up three sales of short stories!! Not the greatest of sales, but it was in the right direction. Last year was also the one where I had the biggest doubts about writing and submitting. Taken me a while to get over it, but am there now.

[Moon Tree]

[quote=Moon Tree;786852].... He was a student of Tolkien at Stanford.....

Well now I feel like a complete fool. I was glazing thru the other responses, When I notice the glaring problem. Tolkien never went to Stanford, neither did my father. It was Oxford.

Forgive the typo.



Moon Tree

[weaveworld]

I would keep writing and gave my old self a good talking to! coming back, getting me all upst and worried...

[j. d. worthington]

Coolhand, I have a couple of points I'd like to address:

But there are dark sides, and they’ve turned me into a person I’m not entirely sure I want to be.

I’ve started craving an audience for my work. Really craving someone to tell my stories to, like an egotistical second rate actor staring glumly at an empty theatre hall. I’ve started staring with envy at the books on the shelves, and whimpering like a kicked puppy.

And whilst it’s always nice to hear the latest success story of a newly discovered writer, a little part of me now flinches with jealous rage that someone’s getting published and it’s not bloody me.

It’s also made me massively intolerant of bad writing to the point of irrational behavior. It gets to me way more than it should. One of the reasons I lurk around in the Torchwood thread dripping bile all over the place is because I am totally 100% convinced that I can do better than just about every writer on that show at writing black-ops sci-fi stories. Their writing SUCKS! Yet they are getting paid to write and I am not. And I REALLY HATE THAT!

Been through that, believe me. Each individual goes through their own version; some go through this as a phase (long or short) with some it never happens; with others it's permanent. Even Asimov commented on something similar years ago, when he noted that, once he became a published writer, he could no longer just relax and enjoy what he read, he was always comparing; if it was better than what he felt he could do, he felt intimidated; if it was worse, he felt impatient. And remember, ERB (as the tale goes) started his writing career because he felt he could do better than the stories he was reading in the magazines; which is also why his first story was (supposed to be, anyway) published under the name "Normal Bean" (it ended up being "Norman Bean"), indicating that he was just a "normal guy" and could write better than those dubs!

The paradox here is that if you set yourself the goal of being published it can’t just be about the fun anymore, because you simply won’t push yourself to the limits required to get noticed. But once you DO start pushing yourself like that, it’s like a drug and you can never stop. And if you never manage to see yourself in print…

On this one... I both agree and disagree. If you do set yourself the primary goal of being published, then that's likely to be the case. If, however, you are doing the writing because you're a writer, someone that's just constitutionally made to do it, then love it or hate it, you'll work at improving because you yourself won't be satisfied with anything less than the best you can do; and then, when you get to that level, you'll want even better, and so on... and it's a never-ending journey to improvement with everything you learn, everything you do, everything you see and experience... it really is all "grist for the mill", and can be used to improve your writing; and unless you're doing so, you simply won't be happy with what you're putting out. I'm not sure I'd use the word "fun", though... Writing can be exciting, it can bring a lot of joy... but it's damned hard work, too, published or no. However, it's also rewarding, in and of itself, when you are able to look at it and realize that you really are pushing yourself, and you can see the improvement each time.

And, to be honest, I couldn't stop writing if I wanted to. Oh, I might take a hiatus from the actual putting words on paper (though I rather doubt that; and even if I did, I'd still be putting my thoughts out there in other ways, such as what I write here... It may not be fiction, but it is writing, and includes the critical thinking and the silent editor sitting there choosing which terms to use to be most effective, etc.); but writing is also more than just what goes on the paper... it's playing with words as you go to sleep; it's tracing down thoughts, elusive images, building dream castles (and then surveying them to find what's wrong and calling in the repairmen); it's a 24-hour-a-day job that stops only when your brain stops, not before. And it's almost as involuntary as breathing.

That's my take on it, anyway.

[Dean F. Wilson]

In answer to the original question:

I may be disheartened, but if I sat down to write, I will write. If I planned to write, but hadn't sat down to do it, then my plan might not work for that day (though I would pick it up again sometime soon). In the end, I write because I must. I need to write. If I don't I'll become that old man much more quickly. I enjoy writing (for the most part) and cannot help but write, and I would seek to defy that old crone that dared insult me by saying they were me when I was older (surely I'd look better ), and I would do everything in my power to get my work published.

Then again, some of my work has already been accepted for publication, and I have other work that I am confident with, so I'd never believe him.

-D

[Giathyn]

This is only my second post here, but I've been a regular reader for some time.

The question posed in this thread has preoccupied me for some time, and I'm glad of the chance to get it off my chest.

My writing partner and I worked together on a project so insanely ambitious that it took us fourteen years to produce a version which we were convinced would work. Between us, we put in 20 hours a week, week-in-week-out, for all of those years – that’s how much we believed in the idea. Three weeks after we completed the final draft of the first volume (after numerous rewrites at the behest of various editors and our then agent), my partner had a coronary and died. He was 49. He had put his heart and soul into that book, and he really wanted it to be published. However, as it became clear that this was probably not going to happen, he became increasingly frustrated, then dispirited, and finally despondent. This was understandable, given how talented he was, and it’s difficult to avoid the suspicion that this might have contributed to his death (though poor diet, high blood pressure and an unwillingness to go to the doctor were probably the major causes).

I was also frustrated by our inability to get anywhere – particularly given that our then agent and at least one major publisher were both very positive about the book. However, I was enjoying the ride so much that it really didn’t matter to me whether or not we succeeded. Having the chance to work with someone as sublimely talented as Greg represented a success in itself.

Sadly, all that has changed since he died (almost three years ago now). I now find myself desperate to get the book published because it is the last thing Greg will ever write. Unless it is gets into print, it will render all those years he put into the book a complete waste – something which I find quite unconscionable, since I drove him very hard, even when his health was failing. Of course, none of us realised he was so ill. I don’t think he was aware of it himself, but in hindsight, the signs were all there. It must have contributed to his deteriorating mood. As a result, I can’t help but think that he might have been better off spending those final years doing something more enjoyable than slogging away on a project he no longer believed would succeed. I have to blame myself for that. I refused to give up on the thing, when it might have been better to abandon it years ago.

Anyway, I’m still working on the series, with almost religious zeal, and while I’m very close to finishing it, I’m no closer to selling it. We seem to take one step forward, then another step back. From what I’ve read on this board, it’s a dilemma many of you share. My dilemma, unfortunately, is compounded by profound loss and twinges of guilt. (Greg was not only my writing partner, he was also my oldest friend, my best friend, and a member of staff at the college where I teach. He was also like an uncle to my children! I feel his loss every day.)

Listen guys, I hope I don’t sound too maudlin. The thread just struck a chord with me.

[j. d. worthington]

Originally Posted by Giathyn

Listen guys, I hope I don’t sound too maudlin. The thread just struck a chord with me.

I wouldn't call it maudlin, no. And you have my condolences, and my best wishes for seeing the work reach print....

[Patrick Mahon]

Originally Posted by Coolhand

“I’ve come to tell you.” says your older, more crumpled self. “You never get published. Ever. No-one ever reads your stuff. You never make any money from it, not once in your life. All the time you spent tapping at that keyboard instead of chasing other hobbies, learning spansih or chatting with loved ones never gets you an iota of success.

I'm in danger of just repeating what others have said here to greater effect, but as someone who has messed around with writing for the last 15 years, but who has only been serious about it for the last 3 or 4, I'd keep on writing. It's my main hobby these days, replacing playing the violin, and numerous other things before that. If I wasn't writing, I wouldn't be doing anything hugely more productive; I'd probably just be watching TV.

Writing is the one thing I do where I can try to be truly creative, where the output from the process is unambiguously mine, and wouldn't exist if I hadn't sat down and put in the effort.

I'd certainly like to get published, largely to prove to myself that my material is of a good enough standard to ask other people to give up their time to read it. But that's not my primary purpose in writing, so if it never happens, it won't be the end of the world.

[Commonmind]

Originally Posted by Giathyn

This is only my second post here, but I've been a regular reader for some time.

The question posed in this thread has preoccupied me for some time, and I'm glad of the chance to get it off my chest.

My writing partner and I worked together on a project so insanely ambitious that it took us fourteen years to produce a version which we were convinced would work. Between us, we put in 20 hours a week, week-in-week-out, for all of those years – that’s how much we believed in the idea. Three weeks after we completed the final draft of the first volume (after numerous rewrites at the behest of various editors and our then agent), my partner had a coronary and died. He was 49. He had put his heart and soul into that book, and he really wanted it to be published. However, as it became clear that this was probably not going to happen, he became increasingly frustrated, then dispirited, and finally despondent. This was understandable, given how talented he was, and it’s difficult to avoid the suspicion that this might have contributed to his death (though poor diet, high blood pressure and an unwillingness to go to the doctor were probably the major causes).

I was also frustrated by our inability to get anywhere – particularly given that our then agent and at least one major publisher were both very positive about the book. However, I was enjoying the ride so much that it really didn’t matter to me whether or not we succeeded. Having the chance to work with someone as sublimely talented as Greg represented a success in itself.

Sadly, all that has changed since he died (almost three years ago now). I now find myself desperate to get the book published because it is the last thing Greg will ever write. Unless it is gets into print, it will render all those years he put into the book a complete waste – something which I find quite unconscionable, since I drove him very hard, even when his health was failing. Of course, none of us realised he was so ill. I don’t think he was aware of it himself, but in hindsight, the signs were all there. It must have contributed to his deteriorating mood. As a result, I can’t help but think that he might have been better off spending those final years doing something more enjoyable than slogging away on a project he no longer believed would succeed. I have to blame myself for that. I refused to give up on the thing, when it might have been better to abandon it years ago.

Anyway, I’m still working on the series, with almost religious zeal, and while I’m very close to finishing it, I’m no closer to selling it. We seem to take one step forward, then another step back. From what I’ve read on this board, it’s a dilemma many of you share. My dilemma, unfortunately, is compounded by profound loss and twinges of guilt. (Greg was not only my writing partner, he was also my oldest friend, my best friend, and a member of staff at the college where I teach. He was also like an uncle to my children! I feel his loss every day.)

Listen guys, I hope I don’t sound too maudlin. The thread just struck a chord with me.

This post struck a chord with me. Please keep us updated on the progress of the book, I don't know anything of the story, but I would love to hear that you succeeded in getting it published.