Hey, NYT editors: is making arbitrary binary categories a job? Or a calling?
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Joris Karl Huysmans - a humble French civil servant - wrote A Rebours (Against Nature) in his spare time, as he put it, for "fifteen people." He was completely wrong about the people part: the book was an immediate success and still shines as a classic of decadent symbolist literature.
I came to writing rather late in my life after vacillating between art and science - a visual artist whose work wound up in the MoMA Archives and a clinic director in Spanish Harlem - so perhaps I see the "calling" vs. "a real job" issue from a somewhat balanced point of view. In the end, whether I'm painting a picture or writing a visually-rich detective story, I am an artist first and foremost. But keep in mind that medicine is also an art - the medical "arts" - as well as a science.
Some interesting writer once said, "Writing is like the Bedouin and the camel. Eventually the camel takes over." That's what happened to me.
I came to writing rather late in my life after vacillating between art and science - a visual artist whose work wound up in the MoMA Archives and a clinic director in Spanish Harlem - so perhaps I see the "calling" vs. "a real job" issue from a somewhat balanced point of view. In the end, whether I'm painting a picture or writing a visually-rich detective story, I am an artist first and foremost. But keep in mind that medicine is also an art - the medical "arts" - as well as a science.
Some interesting writer once said, "Writing is like the Bedouin and the camel. Eventually the camel takes over." That's what happened to me.
Writing is a calling, certainly, but it's also a discipline. If you claim, for example, to be a Zen Buddhist but don't sit - meditate - you're kidding yourself. If you claim to be a writer but don't write each day, then you don't have a calling. If you're there for your unconscious, to put this another way, your unconscious will be there for you. But you have to be there, scribbling away, even when a day's work feels pointless. If you write every day, and return to that writing later, you usually won't be able to tell which days were desultory and which ones were transcendent. Keep at it like a drudge and your unconscious will do the rest, assuming that writing is your intuitive gift.
Of course, this debate is also about something else, isn't it? As an editor, I read hundreds of book-length submissions every year, manuscripts often well-written and worthy but not quite ready, and dozens that deserve publication, even though we can only choose a handful. Writing is an actual profession - a way of making a living - to very few men and women. Most writers have a profession, often teaching (though it can be anything, really), and writing is their vocation. It's a worthy vocation and has nothing to do with paying the rent. If writing is a calling, then you don't need awards or even publication to keep at it; you only need an absolute belief that finding exactly the right words and telling the story that you have to tell makes all the difference. Keep at it. Good luck.
Of course, this debate is also about something else, isn't it? As an editor, I read hundreds of book-length submissions every year, manuscripts often well-written and worthy but not quite ready, and dozens that deserve publication, even though we can only choose a handful. Writing is an actual profession - a way of making a living - to very few men and women. Most writers have a profession, often teaching (though it can be anything, really), and writing is their vocation. It's a worthy vocation and has nothing to do with paying the rent. If writing is a calling, then you don't need awards or even publication to keep at it; you only need an absolute belief that finding exactly the right words and telling the story that you have to tell makes all the difference. Keep at it. Good luck.
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Mr. Moser states: " ...or how little it improves with practice, or how the real rejections come not from editors but from our own awareness of the gap yawning between measly talent and lofty vocation. " Measly talent seems to be relative to a profession. For ex., the just completed Australian Open determines the best in the world, from a global population composed of about 3.611 billion potential men and women tennis players, each. Mailer, Oates, and Roth are examples of terrific novelists who too faced very long odds in achieving their exceptional success. Novelists are similarly "... preoccupied with so-called tail risks--low-probability events where the most damage is done," which is a quote from today's (02/01/2015) Times Business section, discussing potential corporate strategies designed to adapt to climate warming. In order to survive, in cost/benefit terms, novel downside failures by authors obviously would be a greater risk than producing an upside blockbuster. For scads of consumers, the marginal utility from a particular author's new novel is often indistinguishable from that delivered by other authors. To break out of the authorial pack with a well-crafted and nuanced novel in today's oversupplied book markets is extremely difficult. Since few economic barriers to entry exist in the novel writing business; a huge supply results. This supply of novels is very tightly packed near its center, due to this difficulty in attaining product differentiation. 2/01, 3:18p
Perhaps somebody can clarify, you see, I'm not a writer, like many who visit this website I can't write, but I do read.
You all responded to the set question, which was stated plainly enough, but what about the answer? Benjamin Mosers answer that is.
Is it a good example of the writing of an intellectual and / or academic? Or is it all a bit of meaningless slightly pompous windbagging? How do ordinary people like me tell the difference? Do people really want to read writing like that, writing with a lot of words that really, say very little?
You all responded to the set question, which was stated plainly enough, but what about the answer? Benjamin Mosers answer that is.
Is it a good example of the writing of an intellectual and / or academic? Or is it all a bit of meaningless slightly pompous windbagging? How do ordinary people like me tell the difference? Do people really want to read writing like that, writing with a lot of words that really, say very little?
I fell in love with the Beats when I was 17. And for a 17 year old, who could be more romantic than Kerouac? Until you get older and read that he was a terrible drunk and had problems with Jews. And yet today I still name him my inspiration for becoming a writer. But I have no illusions about Kerouac.
So yes, I would imagine that most anyone who decides at a young age to become a writer sees it as a calling, wants to drink at that immortal pool. Sure. But ya gotta make a livin. And writing fiction or poetry for a livin--improbable at best. Do those who succeed at it see it as a calling only? Were their gifts so apparent that they were permitted into the pantheon by the three headed gatekeeper: agent-editor-critic? Or did they go to work like doctors and plumbers doing their daily job? Of course acceptance is the greatest payment a writer can receive and has a galvanizing effect on one's discipline. But actual checks put food into one's stomach.
If your gifts are less apparent, and you can't get past the literary Cerberus, you can still become a journalist where immortality is only discussed in obituaries. Or perhaps you see journalism as the low rung in the business, plotting your slow but steady rise up the ladder out of the reach of the canines and over the gate.
So yes, I would imagine that most anyone who decides at a young age to become a writer sees it as a calling, wants to drink at that immortal pool. Sure. But ya gotta make a livin. And writing fiction or poetry for a livin--improbable at best. Do those who succeed at it see it as a calling only? Were their gifts so apparent that they were permitted into the pantheon by the three headed gatekeeper: agent-editor-critic? Or did they go to work like doctors and plumbers doing their daily job? Of course acceptance is the greatest payment a writer can receive and has a galvanizing effect on one's discipline. But actual checks put food into one's stomach.
If your gifts are less apparent, and you can't get past the literary Cerberus, you can still become a journalist where immortality is only discussed in obituaries. Or perhaps you see journalism as the low rung in the business, plotting your slow but steady rise up the ladder out of the reach of the canines and over the gate.
Many are called ,few chosen.This is more true in case of writing. Almost every literate person fond of reading comes to the point when he/she wants to join the distinguished class of "men of letters". Writing calls them and the call is like the invitation to be seduced.The future colored by glamor,publicity ,money ,adulation by innumerable unknown readers make it a heady mixture.But when he/she starts lured by the call ,the obstacles in the form of initial fear of not being up-to the mark,rejection slips from the publishers or editors act like snubs.The person who gets over these and gets his writing published gradually learns that writing is a job to be learnt.
'The person who gets over these and gets his writing published gradually learns that writing is a job to be learnt.'
I think you are confusing 'job' and 'skill'.
I think you are confusing 'job' and 'skill'.
Financial rewards for the average writer make this a calling, not a living. Very few make a living doing only writing. For every JK Rowling, there are a hundred thousand relative unknowns, and only so many new authors get their chance with a major publisher. There is a finite number of books published each year, and a seemingly endless supply of wannabe writers of all different levels of expertise.
Writing is, for some, an obsession, an avocation, a necessity – just like breathing or eating, or for some, it’s “just” a hobby. It’s often a thankless task. It’s often doing work on projects that are not one’s choice. It’s sometimes requires months of painstaking research, sleepless nights, and inspiration in the wee hours of the morning. It’s waiting patiently for the editor to get back to you, and sifting through thirty rejections before that one acceptance. It’s all these things, and more. Writing is a lifestyle, a feeling that no other occupation can fulfill.
Writing is, for some, an obsession, an avocation, a necessity – just like breathing or eating, or for some, it’s “just” a hobby. It’s often a thankless task. It’s often doing work on projects that are not one’s choice. It’s sometimes requires months of painstaking research, sleepless nights, and inspiration in the wee hours of the morning. It’s waiting patiently for the editor to get back to you, and sifting through thirty rejections before that one acceptance. It’s all these things, and more. Writing is a lifestyle, a feeling that no other occupation can fulfill.
As demonstrated in the day jobs of poets from William Carlos Williams to Wallace Stevens to the tens of thousands of MFA grads teaching today, writing, or any other art form, probably won't provide a living wage. Unless you're married to a breadwinner, are independently wealthy or have a patron (like the lucky few writers who receive MacArthur Grants each year), a day job is the only way to survive. I call it the zero pay problem. Even for writers who've been publishing for years, there aren't that many paying markets left. Having another income source is a way for artists to free themselves from creating for a market.
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Writing is a hard job, but you don't really have to do it so it's a calling.
It's so hard that if you don't get yourself down to it you won't write at all, and a writer writes rather than staring out the window in deep philosophical thought about her calling.
Stupid question. Who cares?
It's so hard that if you don't get yourself down to it you won't write at all, and a writer writes rather than staring out the window in deep philosophical thought about her calling.
Stupid question. Who cares?
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Get back to work!
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Oh, come on, dear colleagues. It all depends. No two writers are alike. As a general principle, writing is one of those professions -- like teaching Chemistry, or professional ministry as a member of the clergy, or electrical expertise, or architecture -- that should not be taken on as a lifelong commitment by anyone who struggles at it, can't answer the core questions or is not prepared to embrace lifelong education and continuous upgrading of one's skill set.
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Yes, but look around you: far too many people in some or all of the professions you list (certainly clergy, architects, and even some teachers. OK - maybe not of chemistry) are hacks! Sadly, this also is true of many published writers – new ones, and also those who once produced wonderful work, but for several books now have been either cranking it out or raiding their pile of early, rejected manuscripts -- because they have to meet contractual obligations; they value the money over the craft; or they simply don’t care. (And, then there are those ‘best-selling’ authors, who now foist others’ work on the public. as written by them ‘with’ the real author…)
As far as I can see, there is only one benefit that such new or born-again writer/hacks provide: they may inspire some unpublished writers, on the darkest days, when they're most discouraged, to keep writing. if only because they can say to themselves, “I can do so much better than THAT!” I mean the writers who can't NOT write, and who yearn for publication. one day, as well. Not for (or only for) for the money, but also as an important validation of huge effort, considerable time spent, other experiences foregone, dismissive family jokes endured, etc.. Those who define themselves (despite how others do, or how they pay the bills) as writers.
As far as I can see, there is only one benefit that such new or born-again writer/hacks provide: they may inspire some unpublished writers, on the darkest days, when they're most discouraged, to keep writing. if only because they can say to themselves, “I can do so much better than THAT!” I mean the writers who can't NOT write, and who yearn for publication. one day, as well. Not for (or only for) for the money, but also as an important validation of huge effort, considerable time spent, other experiences foregone, dismissive family jokes endured, etc.. Those who define themselves (despite how others do, or how they pay the bills) as writers.
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As manilamac stated in mathematical terms, the question is a great example of false dichotomy. Writing can be a calling AND a job. The issue of calling regards the internal drive that moves one to write. The issue of job regards whether one writes for pay. I don't see any reason why an inner-driven writer can't also be asking for and getting paid
Writing can be a calling without being a job, especially for a writer who is rich enough to not need to be paid for his or her work. It can also be a calling and not a job if no one is willing to pay for the writing in question. It can be a job without a calling for someone who does not want to write for pay, but can't afford not to do so.
Some of us are still stuck in the "starving artist/writer" legend that tries to separate the high calling of art from the low drive of money-grubbing (note the deliberate reference to "Grub Street" writers). If so, get over it.
Writing can be a calling without being a job, especially for a writer who is rich enough to not need to be paid for his or her work. It can also be a calling and not a job if no one is willing to pay for the writing in question. It can be a job without a calling for someone who does not want to write for pay, but can't afford not to do so.
Some of us are still stuck in the "starving artist/writer" legend that tries to separate the high calling of art from the low drive of money-grubbing (note the deliberate reference to "Grub Street" writers). If so, get over it.
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It is what you make it. If you want it to be a job, it can be. Or a calling.
When I was in school, I was repeatedly advised to take up writing as a career, because I was good at it and I liked it. Fool that I was, I listened and did it for awhile. I discovered that in my case, making money off something I enjoyed, being compelled to do it whether I wanted to or not just to keep the lights on, would bring me to hate it. Would my friends and guidance counsellors have advised me to become a streetwalker because I was good at sex and enjoyed it? Different activity, same logic.
I still wrote, and write, though only for myself and sometimes for friends. It is sometimes hard, even infuriating, work; Dorothy Parker once said that she hated writing, but loved having written. I agree with her, and also with Mr. Moser - I expect Parker would endorse his observations, especially that a writer 'is'. You write because you can't not write: because people who don't exist, but think they should, whisper in your ear, 'tell my story'. As for those who can do it as a job, or a calling, more power to them. They have different capacities and temperaments from mine, and there is no one 'right' answer to the question posed by the headline.
When I was in school, I was repeatedly advised to take up writing as a career, because I was good at it and I liked it. Fool that I was, I listened and did it for awhile. I discovered that in my case, making money off something I enjoyed, being compelled to do it whether I wanted to or not just to keep the lights on, would bring me to hate it. Would my friends and guidance counsellors have advised me to become a streetwalker because I was good at sex and enjoyed it? Different activity, same logic.
I still wrote, and write, though only for myself and sometimes for friends. It is sometimes hard, even infuriating, work; Dorothy Parker once said that she hated writing, but loved having written. I agree with her, and also with Mr. Moser - I expect Parker would endorse his observations, especially that a writer 'is'. You write because you can't not write: because people who don't exist, but think they should, whisper in your ear, 'tell my story'. As for those who can do it as a job, or a calling, more power to them. They have different capacities and temperaments from mine, and there is no one 'right' answer to the question posed by the headline.
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are we in a college bar? why should writing be seen as more of a calling than painting, sculpting, dancing, et al. of course, these other arts do require more demonstrable talents than simply having a computer and hankering for self-expression (or parents willing to bankroll an MFA). the equation of writing for pay and hackdom--citing such examples emily dickinson, who never had to earn a living, period--is so foolish and elitist as to be stomach turning. writing is profession--and a tough one--not an ennobling delusion. why would the NYT, province of money-seeking ink-stained wretches (all hacks?), even countenance such a sophomoric debate?
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Writing for pay does not have to equate to hackdom. However, it often does. Seen a Hollywood movie lately? (For that matter, some of what I've seen presented as 'professional' on stage and screen would gainsay your assertion that 'those other arts do require more demonstrable talents'.) Believe it or not, someone wrote those scripts. Michelangelo sculpted and painted on commission. However, so did a lot of artists whose work was no better than it had to be. And one need only skim the blurbs in the NYT Sunday Book Review ads for the offerings of self-publishers such as Xlibris and iUniverse to see that some folks who heard a calling should have covered their ears. It's more accurate, I think, to say that there is no necessary correlation between ability and inspiration.
Generally I stop reading when I see the word 'elitist' used as an insult. But I did finish your comment to the end.
Generally I stop reading when I see the word 'elitist' used as an insult. But I did finish your comment to the end.
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Because the NY Times' self-congratulating bourgeois demographic finds this kind of thing compelling.
The word “or” sets off alarm bells. Good answers are usually an irrational number *between* 1 & 0. Ms Stevens is right to say that “bread & butter” writers may not be the beat people to ask. I wrote in my early 20s, but was a musician from childhood. Adolescent poetry informed my return to music, but writing remained part of my life. With age, I returned to the less physically demanding efforts of writing.
Far from youth, I first considered myself a writer in my late 50s, which had its advantages: First, I was already familiar with freelancing — no illusions about cycles of feast & famine & the near suicidal results of taking on too much work from fear of later having none.
More important: Much depends on the kind of work & how you engage with the system to pay the bills. Many talents take soul killing writing jobs toward a day they can do what they want. That seldom ends well. Frequent results are either lives spent at hack writing (in cases of moderate success) or throwing in the towel entirely & finding some other soul killing work that actually pays.
Success has the most tragic outcome: those becoming secure enough to do what they want. The tragedy is getting there, only to discover they’re out of touch with what they originally wanted to do; have limited skill and/or dimmed imaginations.
Each creative person must face the quandary. No workshop, advice or magic incantation can substitute for launching off from the shore, learning to navigate by one’s own stars.
Far from youth, I first considered myself a writer in my late 50s, which had its advantages: First, I was already familiar with freelancing — no illusions about cycles of feast & famine & the near suicidal results of taking on too much work from fear of later having none.
More important: Much depends on the kind of work & how you engage with the system to pay the bills. Many talents take soul killing writing jobs toward a day they can do what they want. That seldom ends well. Frequent results are either lives spent at hack writing (in cases of moderate success) or throwing in the towel entirely & finding some other soul killing work that actually pays.
Success has the most tragic outcome: those becoming secure enough to do what they want. The tragedy is getting there, only to discover they’re out of touch with what they originally wanted to do; have limited skill and/or dimmed imaginations.
Each creative person must face the quandary. No workshop, advice or magic incantation can substitute for launching off from the shore, learning to navigate by one’s own stars.
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Don't be silly. Writing is job. Featuring the rhythms of driving a truck, swinging a hammer, or hefting a shovel. Get to work.
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