A writer by any other name

My brother recently marked a full year of writing something every day. He decided that rather than complaining about not being a writer he would just dive in and write. The result? On a fan-fic site where he posts his work he is approaching 400 followers, ie. people who wish to be notified when he posts a new chapter.

And yet he questions if he can really be considered a writer. After all, he hasn’t been paid a cent, writes fan fiction, and even though he writes something every day, he sometimes throws out an entire day’s work and starts over. This is by no means knocking my brother. Au contraire, me thinks he doth protest too much. I’ve heard similar arguments from many writers.

You see, perhaps one of the most telling hallmarks of a writer is the “if only” syndrome, a never-ending shifting of the goalposts to ensure you never actually achieve success:

• If only I could write something every day I’d be a writer.
• If only I could finish something I’d be a writer.
• If only I could write without having to throw away half of what I wrote the previous day I’d be a writer.
• If only I could write something original instead of fan-fic I’d be a writer.
• If only I could get more than just my friends to read my work I’d be a writer.
• If only I could sell something I’d be a writer.
• If only I could sell something to a major market I’d be a writer.
• If only I could sell a novel I’d be a writer.
• If only I could get a novel into a second printing I’d be a writer.
• If only I could make a living at writing I’d be a writer.
• If only I could make the New York Times Bestsellers list I’d be a writer.
• If only I could make #1 on the NYT Bestsellers list I’d be a writer.
• If only I could sell movie rights on one my books I’d be a writer.
• If only I could sell movie rights on one of my books and see it made into a movie I’d be a writer.
• If only I could sell more than a million copies of a single novel I’d be a writer.
• If only I could sell more than a million copies of every novel I’d be a writer.
• If only I could make more money than J.K. Rowling I’d be a writer.

…and on and on. That’s how we writers think. Being a “writer” is always just out of reach. It’s something other people do.

The thing is, there are so many different ways to be a writer it’s almost not even worth trying to compare them. E.L. James, writer of the “Shades of Gray” books, made her initial mark writing “Twilight” fan fiction. Larry Corriea made a name for himself as a member of a gun enthusiast forum, then marketed his self-published first novel to his gun-nut friends and sold over two-thousand copies, which caught the attention of a publisher. Brandon Sanderson spent ten years writing twelve novels before he sold one that did moderately well. But that, along with his significant involvement in Robert Jordan fandom, caught the attention of Jordan’s widow and landed him a contract to finish Jordan’s “Wheel of Time” series. Dave Butler was self-published for years, writing everything from heavy metal religious urban fantasy to YA sci-fi to LDS doctrinal treatises before landing a contract for a middle-grade steampunk series. I have a neice who writes novels and puts them up on Amazon without, to my knowledge, any significant effort to market them.

They’re all writers. They write. They finish things. Whether they sell them–or even try to sell them–it makes no difference. If you write regularly, you’re a writer. No matter what your next goal is, if you’re working toward it, you’re a writer. Even if no one reads anything you’ve written until after your death, you’re still a writer.

So to my brother I extend my heartiest congratulations. If you’ve written consistently for a year it’s safe to say you’re a writer. Well done, sir! I’m a writer, and I can’t even say that. And it sounds to me like you could be considered more of a writer in some regards than I can. You have readers. My only published work paid exactly two copies of the short-lived literary magazine it appeared in, and that was twenty years ago. I’ve had much more success as a music reviewer than I have as a fiction writer.

Ah, see? There I go . “I’m not a writer yet because…” Learn to silence that voice quickly. Oddly enough, writers are defined by what they do accomplish, not by what they don’t. If you’re writing regularly and you have people who want to know when your next installment comes out then do not take that lightly. Can you improve? Can you be more successful? Of course.  The bar can always be set higher. That’s not the point. You write stuff, and people like to read your stuff. Take that as the positive affirmation it is and run with it.

You, sir, are a writer.