Writing vs Publishing

Photo by Julia Joppien on Unsplash

When I run into people I haven’t seen in a while they all usually ask the same question, “Are you still writing?”

I usually have to grit my teeth. It’s always asked with subtext. For some the subtext is, “How’s your little hobby going?” For others, the subtext is, “I’ve noticed you haven’t published anything new in a while.”

The first kind of subtext is just part of the gig. For most people, being a writer isn’t a real job. Hard to blame them. It’s a pretty weird way to earn a living, and I use the term “living” loosely. We don’t keep normal hours, working often looks like staring out a window or having conversations with people who don’t exist, and we usually are in pajamas. It’s ridiculous.

The second kind of subtext is harder to address. That’s because when writing is your job it’s impossible to separate writing from publishing. However, in fact, they are two separate things. Writing is the activity of using words to communicate, educate, or entertain. Publishing is the act of selling the product of writing—novel, poem, essay, etc. Even there it’s tricky because the definition I gave of writing implies having an audience and you can’t have an audience unless you’re putting the work out there, which usually requires selling it somehow.

So let’s refine the definition of writing:

Writing is a creative art that uses words as the medium.

This feels better because it focuses on writing as an end unto itself. It divorces the creative act from the marketing.

It has been several years since I’ve published a new novel. However, in that time, I have written millions of words. There have been about a ten half-written manuscripts with multiple drafts. Dozens of poems. A few short stories. Do these not count simply because they have not been published?

Well, if you only define being a writer by selling words then no they don’t count. But if you define being a writer as the creative act then I am very successful. Each piece of writing I’ve abandoned or finished has taught me something about writing. Each has helped me process and grow as a writer and a person. Each has taught me something about what I’m not trying to say as much as what I am.

Still, I’m not really bitter about the people who ask if I’m still writing. To them it doesn’t look like I’m doing the thing. And if I’m honest, I’ve spent a lot of time beating myself up for not publishing new things. My poor friends and family have had to listen to a lot of bellyaching as I’ve struggled through.

But now that I’m finally working on rewrites of the first draft I’ve finished in six or seven years, I can look back over the long road of words behind me and see how all of them led me here. This process has been as much about me figuring out what kind of stories I want to write now as figuring out the plots of all of those half-finished stories.

I have no idea if the book I’m working on now will sell. It’s a romantasy, which is a heavily crowded market. It’s the start of a long series, which is a tougher sell now that it was years ago. But right now none of that matters. Right now, I’m remembering what it’s like to be a writer who finishes.

Because you can’t be a writer who publishes unless you finish. But don’t let the not finishing or the not getting published make you think you’re not a writer. If you’re regularly practicing the art of the creating with words, you’re a writer. You don’t have to do it every day. You don’t have to sell it. You don’t have to let anyone read it. You just have to keep practicing your art because practicing the art is where the gold lies. The money, the readers, the reviews, the bestseller lists are all byproducts that are great but they’re not the reason we write.

Right? Because as someone who has had all of those things, I can tell you that those byproducts don’t make you feel like less of a fraud. In fact, they only increase your anxiety. So get comfortable finding your bliss in the practice. Then no matter what happens later, you’re still satisfied.

Well, as satisfied as a writer can get. Because, let’s face it: Writers are never really satisfied. Which, ironically, is the secret to our dogged refusal to quit.

So, the answer is yes, I am still writing. Yes, I will always be writing. Yes, I will always be a writer.

So how about you: Are you still writing?