Just write, right?

I’m going to be a famous writer. Maybe even a rich, famous writer. But, I’ve been told, I first need to be a good writer.
To be a lawyer, which I am, I had to do a four-year university course, followed by a year as an articled clerk. Then I was a lawyer, albeit not a very good one, yet. I knew I had a knack for it, a certain instinct. I was smart, eager, hard-working. But I needed experience and I needed to keep working at it to hone my skills. I didn’t become rich, but I did become well-know — not actually famous.
The electrician who recently came to check why half our power points had stopped delivering electricity, had to do a four-year apprenticeship and then gain experience and he needed to keep working at it to hone his skills. He’s good and he’s rich. Famous? I don’t know if he’s set his heart on that.
I worked as the CEO of a non-profit medical college for ten years, after five years in its administration. I did no particular training for it, although I relied on my training and experience in other areas. In the beginning I sucked at it, as my son would put it. I probably started to be reasonably good at it after five or so years. I certainly did not become rich and maybe attracted some infamy.
So now I’m a writer. I’ve been writing on the side for more than twenty years, but now I say it’s my occupation. I’ve had no particular training in it since English classes at school, yet I style myself as a writer. I am a writer. I have an aptitude for it and some skill; certainly an instinct for using words. I’m not rich and I’m not famous, yet.
How do I bridge this gap?
I could fall into the trap which catches so many. It’s a trap filled with a treacle-like substance which holds a person in a state of delusion. There is a sense of progress, but it is not real. The sticky goo consists of words and phrases such as: soon; tomorrow; next weekend; if only…; I just need…; I will when…; and so many more.
People who become famous (maybe rich) writers, certainly have some things in common: talent, inspiration and persistence. There are some whose first major work finds a publisher immediately and then makes best seller lists. It is possible, however, that they will not be able to keep on producing books which will be readily published and eagerly read, unless…
And there’s the rub.
Most ‘overnight successes’ are nothing of the kind. They merely appear that way because, until their ‘instant’ fame, they have been working away, unknown and unappreciated.
In the recent Australian Open Tennis Tournament in Melbourne, a young West Australian player became an ‘overnight success’. Few had heard of Casey Dellacqua until she made it through to the fourth round. In an interview, however, she set the record straight. She pointed out that she had been in six previous Australian Open tournaments and had been eliminated in the first round each time. “It has taken me seven years to become and overnight success” she said.
That is the way most people become an overnight success. Years away from the public gaze, practising, learning, gaining experience, honing skills.
Tennis players, musicians, actors, lawyers, electricians, writers. It’s the same for any occupation.
How does one do it as a writer? Write! Write frequently and copiously. Write when you don’t feel like it. Write when you’re hungry. Write because you must. Write for the fun of it. Write because you’re angry, sad, in love, happy, exhausted. In all these states you will find something to say. If you don’t, you are not a writer.
Be prepared to produce two thousand words, stick it in the bottom drawer (or a corner of your hard drive) for a month, then read it and edit it as if weren’t yours. Then rewrite it from the start. And again, and again and again. Be prepared to work with it beyond the initial inspiration and the initial high of crafting beautiful phrases.
Telling someone that you saw the most amazing sunset last night may do nothing for them other than make them jealous. But find the words to take then into that experience so they can feel it, taste it, feast on it and they will thank you.
Be prepared to expose your work to others and listen to what they have to say about it. Submitting works to writing competitions is also a wonderful way of testing your writing in the real world and you may collect some bouquets on the way, along with a small amount of cash.
How do you get yourself to write when you don’t feel like it? Set yourself targets. A simple one is to commit to write every day no matter what and to write a minimum number of words each day. I write at least one thousand words every day, come rain, hail, shine or visitors.
If you commit to such a goal, it does not matter if you feel like writing on any particular day. It also doesn’t matter what you write about or whether it is any good. It can be a list of people you love, or hate, or a letter to a politician or a badly crafted poem or the start of a script for another boring soapy, or the first chapters for your next three novels.
Like me, you will probably find that as you start writing just anything, the juices start flowing and gems start appearing; so many ideas can come out of your unconscious, that your pen or typing fingers can’t move fast enough.
This piece itself is the result of my commitment to my one thousand words per day. It was bedtime and I’d only written 193 words today. Sleep seemed like a wonderful idea, but a commitment is a commitment. And here I sit, propped up in bed, pen in hand, scribbling away.
(That must be over eight hundred words by now… Yep, it is!)
Good night.
[First published in The Australian Writer, September 2008]