I Am Not A Writer
(Originally posted on http://mcory.wordpress.com on 12/20/07)
In total contradiction of the epiphany I wrote of yesterday, I think I won’t call myself a writer. I actually received some comments on that post — a modestly rare occurrence — that incited quite a bit of thought last night. I have two reasons behind it, one admittedly a little petulant in it’s start, though I’ve since come to honestly agree with it, the other a bit more rational.
The first reason was most definitely inspired by the comments yesterday of Mr. Cliff Burns, particularly this:
“The terms ‘writer’ and ‘author’ confer status because we associate them with great artists and storytellers from down through the ages.”
There was much more to his comments, and I beseech you to read through them — he does make decent points. Regardless, this particular sentence stood out in my mind. It’s very true, what he says, and I can completely understand that trying to associate one’s self with the likes of all the great writers of the past is quite wrong.
That much I could live with though, as I wouldn’t feel as if I were putting myself on the same level as Poe or Melville or Steinbeck or anyone. There are also, however, quite a large number of writers in this world who do have the arrogance I spoke of yesterday, that “you can’t call yourself a writer because <blah>.” By calling myself a writer, true, I’m associating myself with some of the greatest names in history; however, I’m also associating myself with the likes of those people who have too much pride to let anyone else into the little clique.
And, by the definition I’d given yesterday, I’d also be associating myself with people like Hitler (who actually has published more than many who call themselves writers, myself included), and I’m sure quite a few others who no one would ever want to be clumped in with under the same title.
(Yes, you may cry Godwin’s Law)
That’s my petty, immature “inner child” talking. I don’t like him much, but sometimes I can’t control him. Well, I could, but sometimes it’s just more fun to let him take the reigns. The second reason I hope you’ll find less childish.
What is the point of calling one’s self a writer? There is no practical reason, regardless of whether one is worthy of the title or not. It’s purely psychological, giving yourself an identity of any kind. I say this not in terms of profession, as calling yourself a writer has marketing potential behind it (”marketing” might be a bit of a strong word for what I mean, but I hope you get the point).
If I call myself a writer, all it does is make me feel better about myself. It gives me a little psychological foundation to stand on so I can get through the day, since that’s something that I want — I want to make my living by writing, I want to study the craft, I want to get that thrill from bringing a story to the close I’d had in mind on a daily basis.
What I call myself has no bearing on any of that. Calling myself a writer does not give me a pen to write with (or a keyboard, as is most often my case). Calling myself a writer does not in itself give me that thrill I desire. If I wrote for the next twenty years, calling myself a writer would still give no benefit to my life.. None of that is related to what I call myself in the slightest.
In fact, what I call myself — whether it’s “writer” or something less controversial — has absolutely no bearing on the world anyways. I am me, not some label I decide to give myself, or that someone else decides to give me.
I am not a writer. I am a person who writes, and who loves writing. Likewise, I am not a software developer; I am a person who writes computer programs and websites, and enjoys it sometimes. I am not a musician, I’m a person who plays piano and writes music sometimes.
Right now, I’m a person who needs to get out and have his cigarette so he can get ready for work.
I Am A Writer
(Originally posted at http://mcory.wordpress.com/ on 12/19/07)
I’ve come to a conclusion that puts things in a whole different perspective. It isn’t anything mind blowing, but it’s a subtle concept that feels great when I try it on.
For most of my adult life, I’ve identified myself as a software developer. Even more so now that I can officially call that my job title. It’s what I went to school for (kinda), it’s what I’ve focused most of my energies on the past several years, it’s been me for quite some time.
There’s absolutely no reason I need to keep thinking that if I choose not to. There’s no reason why I can’t redefine myself as the mood suits me, why I can’t look at life and say “You know, this is what I do for a living, but it’s not who I am.” So, who am I?
Today I call myself a writer; that may change tomorrow, or even later today. That part’s irrelevant — why do I even need to “be” anything? The important thing is that I don’t want to be so closely tied to an industry — any industry, really, just programming in particular at the moment — that I don’t give myself the opportunity to try something else, to see what else is out there that I might love to do.
This comes up from a very common and generally harmless question that we all ask others: “So, what do you do?” It’s often one of the first questions you’ll ask someone, or be asked, when you meet them for the first time.
I hate that question.
Not that I don’t have an answer for it — always have. I just don’t like it. It’s very limiting; if I ask you “So, what do you do?” then from that point forth, you are associated with your answer. All your hopes and anxieties, dreams and fears, aspirations and failures are summed up in your response. I’ll never be able to look at you again without thinking “He’s an engineer” or “She’s an administrative assistant.” You are no longer a person; you are a job.
Okay, I might exaggerate somewhat here — you’re still a person. But my perception of you is now tinted; your choice of career will still come through as an identifier the next time I see you.
Unfortunately, that question is often clarified as “So, what do you do for a living?” That’s a terrible version, as it forces the “standard” response — a programmer, for myself. I ask it when I meet someone for the first time too, though I try to avoid that — “Where do you work” is better, as it subtly breaks the relationship between the person and the job.
So, thinking that, how do I want others to think of me? Not as a programmer. Not that I’m ashamed of it — not by any stretch — but it isn’t “me”. There isn’t really any aspect of me that can be summed up with a single response to such a specialized question. I don’t really want to be pigeonholed as a writer, either, but, as that’s where I’m wanting to go with my life at the moment, it’s more appropriate than identifying myself as a programmer.
I’ve come across a rather arrogant train of thought over the past year and a half that I’ve been giving writing a half-way serious effort: “You can’t call yourself a writer because…”
Bollocks, I tell you. (Or bullshit, if you prefer a more Americanized response.)
There is absolutely no reason whatsoever someone can’t call themselves a writer. I’m writing this blog; ergo, I write; ergo, I’m a writer. I’ve written short stories and a novel. I write emails and shopping lists and notes and poems. I am a writer.
Am I a professional writer? No. I pay my bills by developing software. Am I a good writer? That’s entirely up to you; I think so, and most who have told me anything about my writing have said they think so too, but your mileage may vary. Am I even a published writer? Not yet.
I’m still a writer though. Odds are that you are too, if you choose to call yourself that.
For some reason though, there seems to be quite a few people out there who want to put themselves on a pedestal because they’ve accomplished a certain feat. Which is perfectly fine — you worked hard on your MFA/series of novels/articles/short stories; take pride in it. Unfortunately, a lot of people have a bad habit of denigrating the accomplishments of others. “You aren’t a real writer if you don’t have your first book published and your second one ready to go.” “You aren’t a real writer if you don’t have <insert degree or award here>.” “You aren’t a real writer if you haven’t done/don’t do this, that, or the other thing.”
It’s petty and entirely useless — odds are, whatever qualifications someone tells you that you need in order to call yourself a “real writer”, they have those qualifications. Such people should be sterilized and imprisoned. There’s always someone who’s done more, who’s better qualified to be a “real writer” — if you ever start to think otherwise, or find someone who does think otherwise, I have two words for you: Harry Potter. Seriously, if you’re going to start placing requirements on yourself, you might as well set them high: you aren’t a real writer until you’ve created a cultural icon, have movies made (or planned) of all of your books, and have more money coming in from royalties on merchandise alone than the GDP of a small country.
Alas, that I could vent endlessly (and I could), but the time has come to go be a programmer for another eight hours. And to smoke; can’t forget that.
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