 May 2007, Nebula Awards, New York City |
Hi. I'm a writer of (mostly) speculative fiction. I do other things, too, of
course. I have a family, and I have toiled at various maddening "day" jobs, but
since childhood I have defined myself -- or been defined by God only knows what
psychic currents -- as a writer. For a long time those currents more or less
comforted me along, and I approached what Harlan Ellison has referred to as
"..the holy chore of writing..." in a dilettantish fashion. And now I can make
this true statement: dilettantes don't get very far as writers. By "far" I don't
necessarily mean publication. Some dilettantes do manage to get published
occasionally, but I would argue that to write anything worthwhile one requires
three props: Obsession; Compulsion; Discipline. I know. Except for the discipline,
I've just defined a mental illness. And I'll even add that a deep emotional wound
helps, but isn't required. (By the way, some mental patients are very
disciplined). You need other things, too. Talent, for instance. But most people
have talent, even when they don't realize it because they haven't indulged the
first three props, which is usually the way talent emerges as individual expression. But I don't want to be grim (I don't want to be, but I often am). Even before the obsession and the cumpulsion there has to be one magic ingredient, the absence of which spells ultimate doom. Love. Love for the thing itself, the words on the page, the shapely aspect of your unexpected vision. Love for the life at the heart of things. You also need absolute and indefatigable faith in yourself, your voice. I can't tell you where that kind of faith comes from. But I can say this: when it goes
missing (my faith is often out of the country and doesn't even bother sending
postcards), you have to fake it and soldier on. I also think writing is fun. But everybody already knows that part.
Right? |