Summary

The web content discusses the reality of writing as a demanding and laborious process, debunking the romanticized notion of writing as an easy or mystically inspired activity.

Abstract

The article presents a candid perspective on writing, challenging the romanticized image of the craft as one of leisure and inspiration. It emphasizes that successful writing is not the result of a muse's whisper but the product of consistent hard work and dedication. The author likens the endeavor to manual labor, requiring physical and mental endurance akin to an endurance sport. Drawing on the experiences of renowned authors like Stephen King and Haruki Murakami, the piece underscores the importance of routine, discipline, and persistence in honing one's skills and achieving success in writing. The author reflects on their own journey, acknowledging the slow and incremental progress that eventually leads to significant breakthroughs, much like an Olympic athlete training for a high-stakes competition.

Opinions

The author is cynical about writing advice, believing that it oversimplifies the process of becoming a successful writer.
Writing advice typically follows a straightforward but challenging formula: write, publish, and repeat, with a strong emphasis on the slow improvement over time.
The author laments the lack of shortcuts to writing success, comparing the pursuit of a "Successful Writer Pill" to the quest for a diet pill in weight loss.
Stephen King's practical advice on writing is seen as a demystification of the creative process, akin to the disillusionment one might feel upon learning the truth about Santa Claus.
Haruki Murakami's analogy of writing to manual labor is endorsed, highlighting the intense physical and mental effort that writing demands.
The author acknowledges the importance of momentum in writing, similar to how a pole-vaulter builds momentum to clear a high bar.
The article suggests that writing success is not immediate and often requires many iterations and attempts, as exemplified by Hugh Howey's experience of his ninth novel being the life-changing one.

Writing is Manual Labor

And Santa Claus isn’t real

I’m a cynical sally when it comes to writing advice

I swear I used to be more optimistic. I used to worship the mythical symbols of the typewriter and the cigarette. I used to believe in the muse.

But these days I feel more like Miss Tick in Terry Pratchett’s novel, The Wee Free Man.

If you trust in yourself…and believe in your dreams…and follow your star…you’ll get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren’t so lazy.

I appreciate writing advice as much as the next writer, but in the end it all boils down to the same formula. Do you want to write for a living? Sounds good. Here’s what you do: 1) Write 2) Publish 3) Repeat. Slowly get better over time (emphasis on slowly).

Like most profound truths, the path to writing success is simple. Unfortunately “simple” does not equal “easy”.

Please tell me there’s a shortcut

You know what else is simple but not easy? Losing weight. Oh my god it’s so simple. Everyone knows the formula. Want to lose weight? Sounds good. Here’s what you do: burn more calories than you consume.

But it’s hard! That’s why pharmaceutical companies will never stop chasing after that holy grail known as the diet pill.

Imagine the money that somebody could make if they invented a “Successful Writer Pill.” You know it’d be a prescription, not a one-off (subscription models are where the money is). Some marketing genius would give it a cool name like “Excalibur” or “Morpheus” or “The Asimov”.

Since shortcuts to writerly excellence don’t exist, and never will, we might as well listen to the experts and do our best to mimic them.

The death of innocence

Stephen King ruined the idea of the muse once and for all. 7 years ago when I read his memoir On Writing, I felt like Santa Claus had died all over again. Not only had mom delivered the presents, she’d eaten my cookies too.

To be fair, King didn’t really kill the muse, he just de-mystified it.

Your job is to make sure the muse knows where you’re going to be every day from nine ’til noon. Or seven ’til three. If he does know, I assure you that sooner or later he’ll start showing up.

“Oh great,” I thought to myself, “You know what that sounds like? A day job. I’m sick and tired of my day job. I’ve hated every job I’ve ever had. That’s why I dream of being a writer!”

This is known as the death of innocence. It’s when a child first grows suspicious of the world and starts to wonder what other lies he’s been told.

Writing is manual labor

Haruki Murakami wrote a bunch of smash hit novels like 1Q84, Norwegian Wood, and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, but he also wrote a lesser-known memoir called, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.

Here’s what Murakami says about the “work” of writing.

Writing novels, to me, is basically a kind of manual labor. Most people […] only see the surface reality of writing and think of writers as involved in quiet, intellectual work done in their study. If you have the strength to lift a coffee cup, they figure, you can write a novel. But once you try your hand at it, you soon find that it isn’t as peaceful a job as it seems. The whole process — sitting at your desk, focusing your mind like a laser beam, imaging something out of a blank horizon, creating a story, selecting the right words, one by one, keeping the whole flow of the story on track — requires far more energy, over a long period, than most people ever imagine.

Intellectually, at the time, I understood Murakami’s point. Now after six years of writing, I understand it in my heart and in my body.

Writing is an endurance sport and the true victory is never giving up.

Momentum builds slowly over time

The olympic pole-vaulter relies on momentum. She would be silly to stand in place and try to launch herself 15 feet up over that bar. So what does she have to do? She has to back up. She has to start running when she’s really far away.

That’s the mental and phsycial endeavor that writers have to undertake. We have to sweat and growl and bang our hands on the keys like Beethoven. Even when the goal seems unreachable. Especially when the goal seems unreachable.

I always dreamt of being an author, but I didn’t start doing the work until I heard a podcast interview with Hugh Howey, the author of Wool. In the interview, Howey revealed that his 9th novel was the one that changed his life.

His first eight novels were good. They helped him develop his craft and make a few dollars to pay the bills. But the 9th one changed his life.

I thought about how Hugh Howey must have felt while writing those first 8 novels. Plugging away. Putting in the hours.

It wasn’t the rainbow road to writer-dom that I imagined as a kid.

It was better than that. It was the truth.