Good for Nothing
Writer's block hasn't been a problem for me. I have more ideas than time to write them. I know that probably pisses off a lot of writers, but if it makes those pissed-off writers feel better I'll admit that I deal with a different kind of obstacle. I'm good for nothing. My dad said so last week.
After 27 years in an office, the horrendous California economy has forced me to move home. I still run my business but have little work--sometimes no work--and the money coming in to my corporation pays the telephone, Yellow Pages, outside sources and the like--but not me.
I spend many hours volunteering my time in the theater community, getting paid only when I direct, which is only two or three times a year.
And I write nearly every day with the goal of getting it published but no paycheck.
Last week I visited my dad, who lives across the street from me, and detailed all the work I'm doing while not getting paid for it. The Eubanks smirk appeared on his face as he said, "So I guess you're good for nothing."
Good. For nothing.
So why do I continue with it all? Why not eliminate the work that doesn't produce an income? I've asked myself that question for months now. When it comes to my private investigation business, the answer is starkly real: it's my profession and I've invested 36 years into it with 27 of those years going to my business. My business has gone through tough times before--not quite this bad--and I've managed to survive. I'm an optimist and believe that eventually the economy will heal and things will get better. If I close down my sick business and go searching for a job in a jobless market, I've slain my business and left myself with fewer options. As for theater: well, I do it for fun anyway, so the little money I'm paid is a bonus. If I was serious about it, I'd be networking in Los Angeles by now, looking for acting and directing jobs, but I know it's not worth it to me. The prospect of driving back and forth to L.A. and competing for roles or kissing hiney to get a directing job here and there just doesn't appeal to me at my age (58). I have no desire anymore to be a minnow in some big lake ignorantly swimming around waiting to be eaten alive. I admit enjoying being one of the biggest cat fish in shallow pond.
Writing for nothing is my biggest, personal obstacle. Unlike some writers, I can sit down and write for hours if I can find the time--and I try to make time even if I don't. Writing is work. Work. I see writing as a job. I have a place to be and a time to be there. I have to use my brain--both sides, by the way. It takes energy, thought, and a body in decent shape. Mine's pear, but that's another issue. But sitting at a computer for hours at a time writing is as taxing as sitting at a computer getting paid a salary composing reports for a supervisor's meeting or proposals to a client.
Sometimes my wife shares her belief that work is only work if it results in a paycheck. I think what she means is that security comes from a paycheck. Some people don't work but receive a paycheck, so working and a paycheck are not mutually exclusive.
The fact is work is work whether it results in remuneration or not. But unless I'm one of those rare and fortunate writers who has established a name for himself and can demand advances--even before writing the book--I know I'm writing with the goal of
1) finishing the book;
2) finding an agent or publisher;
3) getting it published; and
4) marketing the book.
The job of writing has to be seen in its entirety. Write, propose, publish and market. I treat writing like the job it is. But I struggle with the nagging fact that I'm not getting paid until I succeed at writing it, finding a publisher and marketing it. Those are the facts. And if I can't accept that fact, then I shouldn't write, right? Wrong. Writing is like sleep for me. I have to write. I don't get paid to do it, but I have to. The struggle still exists.
So have I accepted the fact that I'm good for nothing? Absolutely not. My dad was kidding me, and he later called me, encouraging me. He said, "You're so good at everything you do. You'll never be good for nothing." He knew I knew he had been kidding me before, but he also knew that I need encouragement to write. Writing without the assurance of remuneration is difficult--more so than non-writers may understand. But here's what I do to motivate myself to keep writing in the face of the struggle at knowing that I may never see a dime for my work:
1) Treat writing like a job. I don't listen to anyone who tells me that what I'm doing is a waste of time. Writing on contingency is no different than how many attorney's get paid. Many businesses don't get the contract until they've written a boffo proposal. If I want to be guaranteed a paycheck, then I should just go get a job doing something--probably something I hate doing, because there aren't too many things out there that make my putter flutter like writing books.
2) Get serious. I began writing this blog not just to promote my book but to discipline myself to write whether I wanted to or not. I set aside time to write every day. I have a place to be (at my keyboard) and a purpose (to write something). A serious writer writes. "Serious" for me means "professional"; I approach writing as a profession. I don't think about it or talk about writing--I write. Do police officers, accountants and secretaries just think and talk about what they're going to do? Not unless they want to become unemployed. Some folks write for fun and that's fine. I golf but that doesn't make me a professional golfer. If I want to be a writer--a professional writer--I pursue it in the context of the whole job: write, propose, publish and market. Seriousness is the only way I can rise above failures. And there will be failure.
3) Experience results. Nothing motivates me more than experiencing the results of completing a piece of writing. Whether it's this blog, a short story, my novel, or even an investigative report. Those are results. And when I experience the results, I'm reminded that not only can I finish the writing but I have the ability to finish the proposal to an agent or publisher, I have the ability to publish, and I have the ability to market--and I am encouraged and motivated by those results.
4) Recognize the rewards more than the pain. The rewards for most jobs include a paycheck every couple of weeks. As a writer, I experience other rewards: self-employment (the reward of being my own boss), creating art (the reward of immortality, because once it's been created it exists), entertaining readers (the reward of intimately connecting with people, especially strangers), controlling my destiny (the reward of real investment in my future), and answering to my own artistic voice (the reward of self-awareness and growth).
5) Silence the internal dialogue. This won't get published. Is this funny? This probably isn't marketable. Agents are leeches and only want to represent well-known writers with long track records. Publishers are controlled by agents and are spineless wimps who would never take a risk on this kind of book. QUIET!
Let me be honest. Like good fiction, motivation is created by using reality to accept the possibilities. I'm only good for nothing when I forget it. I have writers in my life who help me to remember why I write. I encourage writers to find a buddy-writer, someone who will tell the truth--"that chapter doesn't work"; "what exactly are you trying to say?"--but who won't inspire the false belief that I'm good for nothing.
Posted by Tom Eubanks at 12/6/2010 11:33 AM 
Categories: Inspiration and Perspiration, On Writing
Tags: Essay Getting Personal Inspiration
Categories: Inspiration and Perspiration, On Writing
Tags: Essay Getting Personal Inspiration
Amen brother! Write on! Fist in air!
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Yeah! Fist in air! Yeah! Oh, my how did that middle finger get up there like that? Gotta be careful when I put that fist in the air, don't I?
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