by Janis Patterson
Not long ago on another forum there was a discussion (really it wasn’t that polite, I’m just using that word because I’m a lady) about what makes a writer. A professional writer. I suppose anyone who scribbles down the idea for a book they’re going to write when they have the time or even pens a grocery list can technically be considered a writer because they have committed the act of scribing words in a line... just not, in my estimation, a professional one.
Writing is unfortunately like the other artistic professions such as musician or dancer or actor in that what seems like everyone in the world wants to do it - or more honestly, to reap the rewards for having done it - but they don’t want to put in the time and effort necessary. To them it looks easy, so they should be able to do it right out of the box, shouldn’t they? (This is when I usually start to growl...)
On the internet there is a photograph of two views of a ballerina’s feet. One side shows how they appear on stage - delicate white hose, pink toe shoes intricately tied with perky pink ribbons, feet delicately arched as she stands gracefully en pointe. On the other side is a picture of those same feet naked - blisters and raw spots, bloody band-aids, deformed toes and other horrors. This is the price ballerinas pay for those seemingly perfect moments on stage leaping apparently weightless from toe to toe.
Writing is not as physically brutal but is equally demanding in other ways. First you have to learn your craft, and for some people that is the hardest part of all. Writing a book is a lot more than writing X number of words about a series of incidents that may or may not make sense. You have to know grammar and spelling - and while editors and proofreaders are there to catch our mistakes and omissions, they are not there to do the heavy lifting. Word choice is important, for with it comes nuance, and so much of telling a good story is nuance.
Even assuming you have the soul and skills of an English teacher and can spell obscure words and place every comma correctly (an art in itself!) does not make you a writer. You have to be able to craft a story that is logical, cohesive and interesting, which is an intimidating juggling act. Understanding and properly using backstory, foreshadowing, pacing, characterization, research, character interaction and a hundred other different tools go into making a good book. These are skills which do not come automatically, no matter how much one wants to be a writer.
And don’t forget imagination, the ability to create believable, relatable worlds and populations out of little more than imagination and (in my case) caffeine. It’s amazing how many people cannot think of anything outside of the pedestrian everyday.
But writing is so simple, cry the wanna-bes. It’s just English, and I speak English.
No, it’s not, and even having a book out there does not make you a professional, as the flood of self-published dreck flooding the internet proves. Now there are wonderful things about self-publishing - it broadens the readers’ choices, which before the self-publishing revolution were pretty much confined to what the traditional publishers thought would be profitable for themselves. Even though there are expenses to be borne, self-publishing gives the writer more money, and so many truly professional writers are expanding into this brave new world. On the other hand, it allows a bunch of ‘writers’ who should not be doing anything more than a Christmas card or a grocery list to say “See? I’m a published author.”
Desire does not equate professionalism. For confirmation, just think about someone walking into a hospital saying, “I want to be a surgeon, and I’ve watched hundreds of tv medical shows so I’m ready to do an operation now.” Perhaps an extreme example - no one dies of a badly written book - but the principle is the same.
So what does constitute professionalism? In a broad sense, control of the writerly tools - spelling, grammar, story construction - and a willingness to work, both at learning the craft and the acceptance that it is a job. No one works at a job only when they feel like it (at least, not if they want to keep their job) or their private muse graces them with the urge. No, being a professional means you work at it like any other job, which means you will miss lunches with friends and other pleasurable amenities because you are working. Writing is even more demanding, because the majority of it is done inside your brain, which means you are working pretty much all the time.
To make it even more confusing, there are different kinds of professionalism. I know of a woman who for many years made very good money as a top-notch corporate PR person doing all kinds of writing and doing it extremely well. She has been working on a novel - the same novel - for almost nine years, and it still isn’t finished. Is she a writing professional? Definitely. She is just not a professional novelist, which is a shame, as she is a gifted wordsmith. There is more to being a novelist than just writing skills and the ability to craft a believable story.
Obviously I am finding it difficult to define exactly what makes a writer a professional novelist. Making money? That’s one metric, but a sort of shaky one; there are working novelists who turn out exquisite books but who are making little more than coffee change. There are writers who churn out undeniable schlock yet bring in the money hand over fist. Unfortunately, writing is one of those arts which is totally dependent on public acceptance and let’s face it, the public is sometimes an unreliable judge.
Perhaps the best defining attribute of professionalism is attitude - the willingness to learn the craft and to work at it like the job it is instead of a glorified hobby. And believe me, it isn’t easy.
