I’m forty years old. I’ve been in the literary scene in New York City in some capacity for nearly twenty years now. Which has exposed me to all kinds of creative people, and I’ve noticed a few things about people who “make it” as writers that I wanted to share here, as I thought y’all might find it interesting and hopefully even a little inspiring, too.
But first, let’s redefine “making it.” I am not gatekeeping it behind a wall of financial success or reaching a certain level in traditional publishing or anything like that. To “make it” as a writer, to me, is to dedicate time to it, in a regular way, as a lifelong, or at least, many-years-long pursuit.
What I mean is, when you meet so many writers, you start to develop a radar of who is in it for the long haul and who isn’t. (Not that there is anything wrong at all with writing during a time of your life and then letting it go, but I suspect most of my readers are not trying to do that). So here goes. (Side note: almost all of these things are practices you can build within yourself. No one is doomed if you don’t hit all of these. And there are always exceptions and many cases where I’m wrong. But these are some generalizations I’ve found to be true).
They want to write for the right reasons.
I might have already lost you. Aren’t everyone’s reasons different, after all? Of course, but beneath all the different reasons that draw us to pen/page/laptop, there should be a strong love of both writing, itself, and reading. Without it, I just don’t see how someone can keep it up.
And of course, we all, at some point, entertain dreams or fantasies or wealth or fame or suddenly having the funds to own a writing cabin in Maine. But most working writers know that fiction is just about the worst path to get all those things. And if any of those are a main motivating factor, I don’t think a writer will last.
They identify as a writer. Or at the very least, aren’t afraid to say “I write.”
I know it can be nerve-wracking to say you’re a writer with your whole chest. You can have all sorts of ideas of what being a “writer” means. Usually the way we cut ourselves down is saying we don’t do it full time or we’re not traditionally published, or we don’t have an agent, and on and on. But there is beauty in just saying it. It becomes a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy. One I highly, highly recommend.
They are open to feedback without being defined by it.
This is a hard balance to strike but incredibly important. There are two ends of the spectrum, and I think the writers who are able to keep at it fall somewhere in the middle. On one hand you have the writers who think their words are ordained the ghost of Jane Austen or Raymond Carver and aren’t able to take any feedback at all. But then on the other end you have people who attempt to people-please based on every edit, every Goodreads review, which is an impossible task and will create a confusing, too-many-cooks sort of narrative.
Writers who stay the course usually are able to accept broad strokes feedback (especially the things that keep coming up repeatedly) but let go of the one-offs that may only really affect a few readers or would fundamentally change the purpose of their work.
Their eyes light up when they talk about their work.
Now, I know we get nervous. And elevator pitches are hard. But there is usually a point, when you get beyond the basics and the awkwardness, where a writer’s eyes kind of widen as they talk about their project. Because writing a book is often a years-long commitment, and you have to be a little bit in love with it for it to work.
They are willing to accept the things they can’t change.
I remember meeting a young would-be film writer-director years ago in Charlotte, North Carolina, where I used to live. He was part of the film community there and told me that he was planning on moving to L.A. just as soon as he could. I remember being part of a conversation at this event where people were trying to convince him that he didn’t need to go, that movies were happening in North Carolina, too. The person wasn’t wrong, not exactly. But the guy understood that while some things were getting made, yes, most of the connections he’d need to make were going to be in L.A. or NYC. And he was willing to take that leap. I was living in NYC at the time and remember telling a friend that I was sure he was going to make it. I’ve followed him on Facebook since. He’s at work on his third or fourth feature now.
They practice regularly.
I think there’s a bit too much hemming and hawing about how often you have to write, be it every day, every week, etc. I won’t define it here as I do think it’s different for everyone. But I will say I believe you need to write at least a little bit, more days than not. Because that’s how you get better. Marathoners train for their big race. Writers need to, too.
They engage with the community (and not in a tit-for-tat way).
I’ve just found that the people who support other writers are so much more likely to make it than people who only approach writers in order to get something (a free book, a recommendation, etc.) I think it’s because people who want to be working novelists understand that working novelists need a lot of support, or else they won’t be working anymore. And it goes back to wanting to write for the right reasons. If they love reading, they will naturally be supporting other writers, whether it’s by buying their books or checking them out from the library.
Those are my big ones. What do y’all think? Are there any I missed? Anything you vehemently disagree with? Let me know!
P.S. You might notice a different name in the URL up top or in the byline. I’m excited to be publishing my new thriller novel under the name Leah Rowan, so that’s the name you’ll see here going forward.
I’ve got a big exciting announcement about the book coming later this week, but for now, rest assured that it is, indeed, still me.
Happy reading and writing!
Leah
@Leah, I'd add, "They're curious about others." Good writers (both fiction and nonfiction) lean in when they meet someone different from themselves, rather than dismissing them. People who treat everyone outside their tribe as an idiot rarely produce compelling work.
was afraid to read but now think it was worth it :P