Write Brave: How To Be Courageous And A Writer At The Same Time

Writing does not scare me.

Maybe it should. Maybe I’d be a better writer if it did, but I’ve been writing stories my entire life. I used to write and draw in the back of Famous Five novels because there were blank pages back there, and no one was using them. Writing is my thing. Writing and I are the equivalent of the comfortable friendship that grows between a person and their favourite piece of furniture.

But.

Writing is always an act of courage.

That’s something I need to remember more often, especially when I’m being hard on myself for not writing enough words, or not writing better words, or not figuring out how my story’s going to end before I get started. I need to give myself more credit for being brave, because I am VERY BRAVE MOST OF THE TIME.

This article on ArtsHub really resonated with me today: Why you need courage – not talent – as a creative.

Trying to make a living in the creative fields is brave — not brave as “oh isn’t that a brave fashion choice, I can see what you tried to do there,” but genuinely valiant. Not so much because it’s hard — writing is really hard though I’m pretty sure most jobs are hard especially when you start them, when you’re in the middle of them, and especially in the last half hour before you go home at the end of the day.

But trying to make a living as a writer/[insert your preferred art form here] is valiant because there are so many people telling you how impossible it is, how you’ll never make a living at it, how you’d be better off doing [insert job that won’t be replaced by robots or AI in the next 25 years, take your time, hard to think of one, isn’t it?] literally anything else.

I catch myself being that person around my kids, warning them away from the arts as an industry, and have to stop myself because yes, I want them to have superannuation and insurance, but it’s also not my job to squash their dreams. Robots will do that for them. Their peers will do that for them.

Trying to make a living as a writer or artist is hard because a lot of the people around you don’t actually want you to earn a living. They certainly don’t want to pay you. They want to download books and movies for free, and save their money for things that matter, like coffee to drink while they read your books and wi-fi with which to download movies for free.

Writing, like most art, is supposed to be beautiful and admired, right? It’s like grass and the sky and all that suspicious amount of snow that’s suddenly piling up because winters are colder now and summers are hotter and… cough. This isn’t about climate change, it’s about writing.

Many readers would like to imagine that books, especially the electronic variety, spring into existence without a writer participating in the process at all, except for maybe doing a little light typing as the Ineffable Creative Force magically channels through them. Or they think that writers should do it for the art, for the prestige (heh), for the love… anything but money.

But this is me being cynical, because I know better. I actually don’t know any of those readers, the ones who take writers for granted and download all their books for free while telling them to get real jobs. Most readers I know have too many books to read anyway; financial constraints all that stands between them, and their house overflowing with book purchases.

I know a lot of readers.

I know readers who use social media to reach out to writers and other readers because talking about books is the best thing ever, readers who hand-sell books to each other like it’s their job, readers who make fan art and fic about the world. Readers who literally buy new books while listening to the podcast or the convention panel making recommendations.

Some of these readers even read my work. That’s pretty great. I’ve never been so successful, even in the various heights of my career (in between the ditches and the plateaux and the maternity leave and the accidental PhD which got in the way of a lot of novels being written), that I have become cynical about readers choosing to read my work.

I’m grateful every time my Kindle Direct Publishing stats go up by one. I’m delighted when someone thinks to mention my books in a list or a recommendation. When I meet someone in real life who has read one or more of my books, I go all warm and squishy inside.

Books are time. Money is one currency, and it’s an important one, but time is a currency too, and one I become more and more aware of, as I get older. People choosing to spend money on my books is pretty great. People choosing to spend TIME on those books is an honour.

But you know. Writer gotta eat. Write please get paid.

There was a time when I thought self publishing wasn’t for me, that I needed the status that came from being selected by a publisher, or somehow my work wouldn’t count. I’m glad I got over that. It’s lovely to be picked, and it’s lovely to work with a great publisher — but you know. Writer gotta eat. Write please get paid. I’m a hybrid author now. Sometimes my books are in the hands of a publisher, sometimes I’m DIY.

I’ve done some pretty brave things over the last few years, to get my work directly into the hands of readers. To make myself write, and promise myself there was an audience waiting.

I wrote an entire novel (Musketeer Space) as a live serial on my blog, one chapter a week, and funded it with Patreon.

I learned to turn that novel into a hardcover print book and made it available for sale.

I started a fiction podcast, in which I read episodic fictional serials out loud on a weekly basis, often beginning a serial without having written the end. (again, funded with Patreon)

Last year, I talked about feminist robots on social media for a solid month, to help fundraise for the Mother of Invention anthology, with Twelfth Planet Press.

I wrote and published an essay about cancer, a word I was still struggling to say out loud when I was having radiotherapy last year (while tweeting about feminist robots, I’m such a multi-tasker).

I asked for my rights back to the Creature Court trilogy, which was traditionally published some years ago, and was no longer selling in any quantity. I decided that the books mattered enough to me that it was worth trying again.

9 days ago, I launched the Kickstarter to bring those books back into print, along with a new one I haven’t finished writing yet.

For another 21 days, I’m going to be asking people to back my Kickstarter. Shamelessly, and without reservation. Because I believe in my books. I believe in myself as a writer. And on the days when I don’t quite believe in myself enough, I have a great team of family, friends and peers around me to hold me up until I feel ready to be brave again.

Also, I work pretty well to a deadline.

Writing is an act of courage. It’s also my favourite thing that I’ve ever had to be brave about. (Writing doesn’t involve needles, spiders, driving tests or childbirth, it totally wins)

Be brave. Make art. Buy books. Ask for what you need.

Oh, and please support my Kickstarter.