Mark Shaiken's Blog: Head Talks! mark shaiken : : author blog - Posts Tagged "writing"
Why Write
Early summer, 1976. They sat on the front porch of the small split-level house as the sun dipped below the horizon. The beginnings of another New England summer. The old man slowly inhaled his unfiltered Pall Mall, held the smoke in his lungs, and then purposefully exhaled. He shook his head and pondered the smoldering cigarette between his tobacco stained pointer and middle fingers. He would stop on Monday he vowed to himself for the millionth time.
“What’s on tap this week, buddy?” he asked the college kid.
“Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat, Dad.”
The old man nodded. After a few moments, he asked, “I was wondering. Senior year’s coming up. Have you given any thought to your future?”
“Oh, a little,” the college kid replied.
This topic had come up before sometimes leading to conflict. He didn’t want conflict this evening, but he also knew the day was fast approaching when college would be in his rear-view mirror and he needed a plan. To have a plan, he needed to plan. Not his strong suit. He knew the question was top of mind for the old man. He knew the old man saw it as the last parenting piece to ensure his son launched.
“And?” the old man prodded.
“I thought I’d take a year or two off after college.”
“To do what?”
“Write a novel,” the college kid replied cautiously.
The old man’s eyebrows raised, and he tilted his head in surprise. First time the old man had heard that plan. “A novel, eh? Hmmm. Maybe. Don’t know. Is there a Plan B?”
“Plan A’s good. It worked for Hemingway.”
“Did it? I don’t know. Doesn’t seem like a viable way to make a living.”
Perhaps not, the young man thought to himself. “Plan B?” the young adult asked as he sighed and capitulated in the conversation. “I guess I thought I’d get a master’s in literature.”
“Master’s degree, eh? To what end?”
“Teach. Maybe English in the inner city. And . . . write a novel in my spare time.”
As the young man explained Plan B, he broke eye contact and looked off into the distance, allowing himself to dream as he gazed off. To him, dreaming was synonymous with planning. But, the wistful look toward the horizon gave the old man the impression that Plan B was more of a pipedream than a plan.
“Yeah . . . . I don’t know, kiddo. Probably the same problem as Plan A. You have anything else in mind?”
“Well, I guess I could always go to law school.” The old man smiled and nodded his approval. The old man thought law school was the place to go to become a lawyer. The college kid thought it was the place to go to sort out what to do next. The old man did not pick up that there was no meeting of the minds. He was just glad that the novel diversion had ended.
The Next Few Decades. With no novel in the offing, law school it was, and it took the college kid more than four decades of meandering before returning to Plan A.
Along that journey, he often wondered, “why write?”
The Present. Forty-three years later, the college kid leaned back from his desk and his next novel coming to life on the computer screen and wondered aloud, “why write?”
He had come up with some answers to the question way back when but never shared his answers with the old man. He knew it probably wouldn’t have changed anything but in case the old man was listening from the great beyond, here is what he wished he had said.
Number 1: Writing is better than talking with someone. When you write, you say everything on your mind. No interruptions. No arguments. No debates. No one talking back to you. If you think it, write it. If you feel it, write it. If you believe it, write it. Let the world read it and if they agree with it, bravo. If they don’t, either listen and learn, or ignore. Either way, keep writing.
Number 2. When you write and put your work out there for all to read, you put yourself out there as well. For us wallflowers, it is the best way to get off the wall. Not without consequences, of course. Some will like what you wrote. Some will not. Those who liked it may compliment you. A five-star affirmation and license to continue writing. Some who did not like your work will review it and explain their negative reaction. Some of the criticism can help you grow as a writer and a person. Listen to them. They are the path to future affirmation. Some of the criticism will be downright mean. A function of the modern social media era, perhaps. But, it’s really a little like baseball. If the best hitters in the game are only successful at the plate thirty percent of the time, why do they risk the pain of making an out seventy percent of the time? The hit is worth the quest. As well, the compliment is worth the quest and the risk of the harsher criticism is just part of the game.
Number 3. When you write, looking off into the distance is not a sign of an ill-formed, life-altering, pipedream. No. When you write, gazing is working. It’s part of the process and if it means you are dreaming, or even formulating an unachievable pipedream, it’s all good because dreaming and even pipe dreaming is part of the writing process. If you are a gaze-off-into-the-distance type, then write.
Number 4. Do you write for fame and fortune? The New York Times bestseller’s list? A top ten new release on Amazon? Oprah’s recommended reading? An interview with Gayle King on CBS Mornings? Movie rights? Sadly, not at all likely, so, no, that’s not why you write. Always remember that the difference between a pizza and a writer is that a pizza feeds a family of four. With that in mind, if you still want to write, then do it.
Number 5. So, why write? Simple. Why not?
“What’s on tap this week, buddy?” he asked the college kid.
“Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat, Dad.”
The old man nodded. After a few moments, he asked, “I was wondering. Senior year’s coming up. Have you given any thought to your future?”
“Oh, a little,” the college kid replied.
This topic had come up before sometimes leading to conflict. He didn’t want conflict this evening, but he also knew the day was fast approaching when college would be in his rear-view mirror and he needed a plan. To have a plan, he needed to plan. Not his strong suit. He knew the question was top of mind for the old man. He knew the old man saw it as the last parenting piece to ensure his son launched.
“And?” the old man prodded.
“I thought I’d take a year or two off after college.”
“To do what?”
“Write a novel,” the college kid replied cautiously.
The old man’s eyebrows raised, and he tilted his head in surprise. First time the old man had heard that plan. “A novel, eh? Hmmm. Maybe. Don’t know. Is there a Plan B?”
“Plan A’s good. It worked for Hemingway.”
“Did it? I don’t know. Doesn’t seem like a viable way to make a living.”
Perhaps not, the young man thought to himself. “Plan B?” the young adult asked as he sighed and capitulated in the conversation. “I guess I thought I’d get a master’s in literature.”
“Master’s degree, eh? To what end?”
“Teach. Maybe English in the inner city. And . . . write a novel in my spare time.”
As the young man explained Plan B, he broke eye contact and looked off into the distance, allowing himself to dream as he gazed off. To him, dreaming was synonymous with planning. But, the wistful look toward the horizon gave the old man the impression that Plan B was more of a pipedream than a plan.
“Yeah . . . . I don’t know, kiddo. Probably the same problem as Plan A. You have anything else in mind?”
“Well, I guess I could always go to law school.” The old man smiled and nodded his approval. The old man thought law school was the place to go to become a lawyer. The college kid thought it was the place to go to sort out what to do next. The old man did not pick up that there was no meeting of the minds. He was just glad that the novel diversion had ended.
The Next Few Decades. With no novel in the offing, law school it was, and it took the college kid more than four decades of meandering before returning to Plan A.
Along that journey, he often wondered, “why write?”
The Present. Forty-three years later, the college kid leaned back from his desk and his next novel coming to life on the computer screen and wondered aloud, “why write?”
He had come up with some answers to the question way back when but never shared his answers with the old man. He knew it probably wouldn’t have changed anything but in case the old man was listening from the great beyond, here is what he wished he had said.
Number 1: Writing is better than talking with someone. When you write, you say everything on your mind. No interruptions. No arguments. No debates. No one talking back to you. If you think it, write it. If you feel it, write it. If you believe it, write it. Let the world read it and if they agree with it, bravo. If they don’t, either listen and learn, or ignore. Either way, keep writing.
Number 2. When you write and put your work out there for all to read, you put yourself out there as well. For us wallflowers, it is the best way to get off the wall. Not without consequences, of course. Some will like what you wrote. Some will not. Those who liked it may compliment you. A five-star affirmation and license to continue writing. Some who did not like your work will review it and explain their negative reaction. Some of the criticism can help you grow as a writer and a person. Listen to them. They are the path to future affirmation. Some of the criticism will be downright mean. A function of the modern social media era, perhaps. But, it’s really a little like baseball. If the best hitters in the game are only successful at the plate thirty percent of the time, why do they risk the pain of making an out seventy percent of the time? The hit is worth the quest. As well, the compliment is worth the quest and the risk of the harsher criticism is just part of the game.
Number 3. When you write, looking off into the distance is not a sign of an ill-formed, life-altering, pipedream. No. When you write, gazing is working. It’s part of the process and if it means you are dreaming, or even formulating an unachievable pipedream, it’s all good because dreaming and even pipe dreaming is part of the writing process. If you are a gaze-off-into-the-distance type, then write.
Number 4. Do you write for fame and fortune? The New York Times bestseller’s list? A top ten new release on Amazon? Oprah’s recommended reading? An interview with Gayle King on CBS Mornings? Movie rights? Sadly, not at all likely, so, no, that’s not why you write. Always remember that the difference between a pizza and a writer is that a pizza feeds a family of four. With that in mind, if you still want to write, then do it.
Number 5. So, why write? Simple. Why not?
Paperback Writer
Depending on your age and musical tastes, you may remember the 1966 Beatles’ song, “Paperback Writer,” penned by Paul McCartney. Beatles lore reports that McCartney’s Auntie ‘Lil challenged him about writing only love songs. She asked him why he didn’t write songs about more important things, suggesting a song about a horse, or a summit, or something else interesting. Later, McCartney saw Ringo Starr reading a book backstage, “Paperback Writer” came to be, and the rest is history—except for the usual controversies about which Beatle played which parts of the song and whether John Lennon contributed any of the lyrics.
The song tells us about a writer who sends a letter to an anonymous publisher (Dear Sir or Madam) hoping to convince the publisher simply to read the book. We presume it’s not the writer’s first letter to a publisher. We learn the book took years to write; the writer was desperate to find someone to publish the book; the book is roughly a thousand pages; the writer intends to write more pages shortly; the writer can change the story around; the publisher can have the rights; the writer thinks it would make the publisher a million overnight; and, sadly, the writer informs the publisher how to return the book, even as the writer says over and over that all he or she wants is to write paperback books.
And there you have it. In his own way, in the mid-1960s, Paul McCartney created a character who, to me, captured some of the angst of a modern day indie author. Turns out, the longing of a 1960s writer wasn’t all that different from the dreams of a twenty-first century indie author. Don’t all of us who write and self-publish just want to be that paperback writer? Don’t we just want people to read our books? And if they do, to leave a brief review? We may not say it, but don’t we dream every once in a while that a traditional publishing house will latch onto something we write? Don’t we long for thousands—no—tens of thousands of readers and reviews? Aren’t we willing to change our works around if that’s what it takes to fulfill our dreams?
As McCartney’s fictional author implored the letter’s addressee, I felt the desperation and related to the ask the writer made of the anonymous publisher: please, please, please just read the book.
How could Paul McCartney possibly have known how an unpublished, or in the modern era, an under-read, published indie author, might feel?
The answer I came up with is this: He already knew. John and Paul met in the 1950s, started writing original songs together in John’s aunt’s house, and performed for whomever would listen. They went to Hamburg hoping to find an audience and hone their skills. They looked for an agent who then looked for a record company. For years and years, no one important would listen to their works, but through it all, the duo kept writing and honing and dreaming. They never gave up the dream. They had resolve. And then one day, George Martin and Parlophone Records listened.
When I talk with other indie authors, I often hear that resolve as well: Keep writing. Never give up. Maybe we self-published writers aren’t that different from Lennon and McCartney. Now, to be sure, Lennon and McCartney’s teenage dream came true and then some, and they had boundless talent. Few writers I know have quite that kind of talent.
But the lesson is nevertheless clear to me: never lose faith. Write because that’s the calling. Put words down on paper because that’s what we’re driven to do. And slowly but surely, more people will read those words; maybe not throngs of people, at least not yet. Maybe the throngs will find the next book. Or the next.
After all, all we need is a break . . . because we are indie paperback writers.
Mark
http://markshaikenauthor.com
The song tells us about a writer who sends a letter to an anonymous publisher (Dear Sir or Madam) hoping to convince the publisher simply to read the book. We presume it’s not the writer’s first letter to a publisher. We learn the book took years to write; the writer was desperate to find someone to publish the book; the book is roughly a thousand pages; the writer intends to write more pages shortly; the writer can change the story around; the publisher can have the rights; the writer thinks it would make the publisher a million overnight; and, sadly, the writer informs the publisher how to return the book, even as the writer says over and over that all he or she wants is to write paperback books.
And there you have it. In his own way, in the mid-1960s, Paul McCartney created a character who, to me, captured some of the angst of a modern day indie author. Turns out, the longing of a 1960s writer wasn’t all that different from the dreams of a twenty-first century indie author. Don’t all of us who write and self-publish just want to be that paperback writer? Don’t we just want people to read our books? And if they do, to leave a brief review? We may not say it, but don’t we dream every once in a while that a traditional publishing house will latch onto something we write? Don’t we long for thousands—no—tens of thousands of readers and reviews? Aren’t we willing to change our works around if that’s what it takes to fulfill our dreams?
As McCartney’s fictional author implored the letter’s addressee, I felt the desperation and related to the ask the writer made of the anonymous publisher: please, please, please just read the book.
How could Paul McCartney possibly have known how an unpublished, or in the modern era, an under-read, published indie author, might feel?
The answer I came up with is this: He already knew. John and Paul met in the 1950s, started writing original songs together in John’s aunt’s house, and performed for whomever would listen. They went to Hamburg hoping to find an audience and hone their skills. They looked for an agent who then looked for a record company. For years and years, no one important would listen to their works, but through it all, the duo kept writing and honing and dreaming. They never gave up the dream. They had resolve. And then one day, George Martin and Parlophone Records listened.
When I talk with other indie authors, I often hear that resolve as well: Keep writing. Never give up. Maybe we self-published writers aren’t that different from Lennon and McCartney. Now, to be sure, Lennon and McCartney’s teenage dream came true and then some, and they had boundless talent. Few writers I know have quite that kind of talent.
But the lesson is nevertheless clear to me: never lose faith. Write because that’s the calling. Put words down on paper because that’s what we’re driven to do. And slowly but surely, more people will read those words; maybe not throngs of people, at least not yet. Maybe the throngs will find the next book. Or the next.
After all, all we need is a break . . . because we are indie paperback writers.
Mark
http://markshaikenauthor.com
Head Talks! mark shaiken : : author blog
Short stories by award winning author, Mark Shaiken. Author of the 3J Legal Thriller series, the "Gold Standard of modern legal thrillers."
...more
- Mark Shaiken's profile
- 35 followers
