Contentment & Desire

I started by saying wanting to make a million dollars isn’t the best motivation to write a novel. But you do need some tangible reasons. In a perfect world I suppose we could accomplish all the things we would like without having any external stimulus. But this isn’t a perfect world. I find putting my back against the wall helps. I wrote my first two novels living in Korea. I studied and taught martial arts six hours a day and went nuts the rest of the time. I wrote, to a certain extent, to keep my sanity. Then after getting published, I wrote because I enjoyed it but also to make money to live on. I had job offers where I could be financially secure, but I didn’t take them. I wrote, and continue to write, because I have to both internally and externally.

No one wants to talk about money. I remember watching the movie White Palace. In it the character Susan Sarandon plays is having a relationship with a younger man and she goes with him to his apartment for the first time. She’s very impressed with it and asks him how much he pays a month. He equivocates and hems and haws. She looks at him and says something to the effect of: “We can sleep together and make love, but you won’t tell me how much you pay for your apartment?” (I think her language wasn’t as mild, though.) That comment struck me because it’s so true of our society. Talking about money is more taboo it seems than talking about sex. I find this particularly interesting when we consider the academic side of writing. I was sitting in a writer’s group that I helped form and we had invited a professor who edited the local university’s literary publication to talk to us about the magazine. He started out by making the comment, “If you think you can make a living writing, forget about it.” Be careful of bitter people because their aura can be damaging.

Because you can make money writing. I’ve done it now for over twenty-five years and am currently making more as an indie author than I ever made as a best-selling traditional author. I’ve heard some authors and freelancers say never give away anything you’ve written for free, even if just to see it in print, and I tend to agree. If someone isn’t willing to pay for it, then work harder to make it good enough so someone will. Quite honestly, publishers will not be impressed with your credentials of getting published in publications that they never heard of and didn’t pay you anything other than to give you three free copies. I’m not saying absolutely don’t do that, but if you do, realize it is only a step and you need to move beyond. Don’t get stuck there.

I am not saying write simply for the money, but if you don’t factor money into the writing equation somewhere, and take it as a serious factor, you will fail, because eventually you will have to get a real job. Money cannot only be a source of motivation, but it is the basis for making a living at writing, which is very hard to do. It’s a vicious equation: to become a better writer, you must write—to write you must have time to write—to have time to write it most certainly helps to make some money at it.

OK, now that I’ve gotten the mercenary side of the business out of the way, go back to Pearl Buck’s quote: the root of your desire must be a passion to tell a story. Some people tend to look down upon telling a story in a format such as science fiction or mystery or action/adventure. But if that’s your passion and your story, then tell it and don’t worry what anyone thinks. I think there is one bottom line on how good a writer is: how many people read his/her book. That’s called commercial writing and sneered at in certain quarters, but if no one wants to read what a person writes then maybe he or she just isn’t writing that well. Think about it.

I sat on a panel at a conference and they asked each of us what we liked and disliked about writing for a living. The answers were interesting. I think an author needs the paradoxical combination of being able to be content and discontent at the same time. Because publishing is such a slow business and positive feedback so rare, you have to be reasonably content for long periods of time by yourself. At the same time you have to motivate yourself to write the manuscript, to do all the dirty work that needs to be done, to pursue long-range goals.

Setting Objectives

So far I’ve talked about what you need. Now let me mention something we could all do without: procrastination. If you’re like me, when you were in school, that term paper never really needed to be done until the night before it was due. I remember at West Point the radio station would have a contest the night before the big Social Sciences paper was due. They would have call-ins with the award going to the person who could claim they were starting their paper the latest.

In fact, for me, the one time I did a paper early—in fact so early that I was able to get feedback without a grade—the instructor gave me some basic pointers which I incorporated, then turned in the paper—again early, this time for a grade. I got an F. So much for positive reinforcement.

My main theme is that to become a writer you must write. You can be the greatest marketing specialist in the world, but if you don’t have a product to market, you’re not going to get published or sell. I am very big on understanding the business aspects of publishing and marketing your work as best you can, but I have seen people (including myself at times) forget one very important rule: you have to have a good product. Putting ninety percent of your effort into trying to sell your work when it is simply not good enough, is a waste of time. Put that effort into writing another manuscript that is good enough.

The best way I’ve found to overcome procrastination is to set objectives, both short and long range. If you feel such cold objectives interfere with your creativity, you might be right. But a novel is a heck of a long way to go simply burning the fuel of passion. One common fault that many suffer from is starting a novel, getting about a quarter of the way in, then dropping it to move on to something better, and starting a new novel. I know in everything I’ve worked on, about a hundred and fifty pages in, my mind has already started to move on to a new project and I’m somewhat bored with what I am working on. That’s where discipline and a schedule come in. If my next project isn’t due to start for three more months, then I have to work those three months on my present project in order to earn the right to start the new one.