Would You Suggest Writing as a Career?

[CarversDog]

As a working writer for nearly twenty years now, I would have to say that I don't recommend the career choice. There are only a slim handful of best-selling writers. The rest of us trudge on picking up work wherever we can find it: book reviews, magazine work, screenplay assignments for movies that are doomed to never be made, ad copy, shitty wire service stringer jobs, perhaps a novel or two or three that damn well better sell through the roof in the first six months of publication or, baby doll, it's time to meet the remainder table.

It's a hardscrabble life. One year away from my 50th birthday, I can not honestly say if I would do it all over again.

 

[Purple Stickpin]

But writing must have chosen you, Carver's. If you wake up one day and decide to be a writer, or if you trudge along through the slop the world gives us, and decide to be a writer after all of that, it must be clear that the road will be difficult, if not impossible.

I've read some stuff on your website and it is very good. Very good indeed. A chuckle here and a "well, that's really insightful" there. But I wonder if you chose writing, or if writing chose you. It's probably the most important point in the concept of being a writer. If you (the proverbial "you") choose it, you probably made the wrong choice. If it chooses you, then you just might make it.

I spent a good deal of time writing in the late 1980s and early 1990s. I think some of it is very good. In retrospect, I'd be better off keeping with what I'm really good at.

 

[CarversDog]

Writing chose me in the sense that I have had an aptitude for it since my late teens; in following something that I knew I had an aptitude for, no, I did not know how hard it would be. I was, briefly in my life, a very good bartender and a very good stage manager. When I choose something I have a tendency to excel at it but writing is what I opted to stick with and now that I have had time to reflect on what I wrote here a few days ago and your remarks today, yes, if I had to choose I believe I would do it all over again. It's fulfilling, in a brief and transitory way, to see your words and thoughts in print and to earn the respect of your peers.

 

[Spinbowler]

My father was right
"son you're a quitter"
and my mother was right also
"son you're just like your father"
but only when it suited her.

 

[informal]

from 2nd to 5th grade i was one of only about 5 kids in a grade of 100 to be published in the school magazine every time. i haven't written since.

 

[Spinbowler]

o.k one for the road

Birthday Cake

and her arse is in the air
and her lips are swollen
with a feather
ready to pluck
I stand there
as hard as a rock
waiting to approach
waiting to enter
the forbidden land
a forgotten place
a place of no time
a place so fascinating
it's got me fucked
and now
8 years later
I lie here
my hand upon my kong
wondering why
her arse
didn't have candles on it
or a name to go

 

[hank solo]

what can it all mean?

 

[HarryC13]

Not sure, Hank. :)

To answer mjp's original question from lo those many moons ago: Yeah, I'm a writer. I work for a huge technology corporation as a marketing writer 9-to-5 and do poetry, essays and a little short fiction in my time away from the Paycheck. Oh, and of course the wine column. Started off as a freelance article writer and book reviewer long ago, have been published in hundreds of places, most of them no-names but a few biggies like Writer's Digest and The National Enquirer.

Had a bunch of poems and reviews published, mostly in the 80s (search my name on AbeBooks and you'll get about 16 or 17 mags with my stuff in them). Proud that in Random Weirdness #6 and an issue of Third Lung Review (#8, I think) I shared space with Bukowski. But I got lazy and disinterested and only recently have begun to write creatively with any regularity. So yeah. I love to write and I'm lucky to be able to do it for a living, even if most of what I write is BS.

I have to somewhat agree with CarversDog's assertion that one year from 50, he can't honestly say he'd do it all over again. One year away from 55, I would do it all over -- but I would make a few changes. I'd starve more and write for money less. I would have kept my eye on the poetry ball and tried to build that more. Fortunately, I'm not dead yet. If I was a pro football running back with an average career of 4 and a half years it would have been over long ago. I think I can keep learning and gettin' better until I'm a REALLY old man, should I live so long. At least I hope so.

So that's me.

 

[CarversDog]

Hey, Harry, I also had a brief freelancing stint with The National Enquirer. Best and easiest payday I ever had. Those folks pay very well.

 

[HarryC13]

Hey, I couldn't agree more. They wanted everything remarkably fast, so you had to be an adrenalin junkie ... but the pay was GREAT. I was their Pittsburgh area stringer from 1984 until 1991 ... they offered me a six-week trial at their Lantana offices in late '85. Deal was that if they liked me they'd hire me for 50 grand a year, a princely sum in those days. But if they didn't they'd send me packing. I had just gotten married and accepted a job for 18,000 a year and decided to take the security over the possibility of big bucks. "Possibility," like "options," can be a dirty word.

But think I might have re-thought that one a few times??? :)

 

[CarversDog]

Can't say as I blame you for re-thinking it from time to time. It's a good thing as we scratch more years off the calendar to meditate on the choices we've made and how they took us to where we are now.

I made between five and ten grand each for a few exclusives I brought to the boys in NYC and Lantana. Fast turnaround too but they buy absolutely all rights.

 

[halen99]

And Counting...

Thursday Afternoon 4:45; 15 minutes and counting.
5:00, clock out. Off work for 15 hours and counting.

Driving home; pass by 3 schools, 5 stoplights, 4 Starbucks
Stop for gas, price per gallon $3.16 and counting.

Finally home; check my voice mail
Message 3, Mortgage is 14 days late and counting.

Check my email
Message 6, Viagra pills lasts up to 4 hours and counting.

Ordered a pizza, on my second slice
Opened a beer, drank another and counting and counting and counting.

Alarm goes off 7:00 AM, hit snooze. Sleep another 5 minutes and counting.
Now on my 3rd cup of coffee.. and counting.

Back at work, 8 more hours of hell... but who's counting.

 

[CarversDog]

Not bad, not wholly original, as I'm sure you're aware, Halen, but not bad. The avalanche of numbers are what add originality to an otherwise common theme.

Why was my critique of Halen's poem removed?

Oh, it hasn't been. Sorry. That's what I get for multi-tasking.

Pay attention, Rodger, pay attention.

 

[halen99]

Just to be difficult

Just to be difficult --- this is similar to and counting, both of these are also poem/songs I have on my myspace page which prob comes off better hearing with music but... thanks for reading.


Just To Be Difficult, I listen to my Johnny Cash thru a Record Player rather then an iPod.

Call me crazy but I make my mashed potatoes from real potatoes.


Just To Be Difficult, I get my news from a Newspaper and do not subscribe to CNN.

I tend to drive to the store and actually pay for my music.


Just to be Difficult I'm going to play my piano now.


Just to be Difficult I like to order lunch in the drive-thru ala-carte and not by the number.

I prefer to stand outside the venue and wait in line to buy my tickets.


Just to be Difficult I write letters to my friends and family by hand, not with cell phone technology.

I'm going to get back to the Man in Black now.

 

[HarryC13]

I like it. Reminds me of some of the stuff Ron Androla used to write (and probably still does). BTW, mixing a shot in now and then with the beers gets you there faster and saves your beer supply. :)

 

[CarversDog]

I liked this quite a bit as well; not as effective, for me, as the first poem posting but still strong.

 

[wayrob]

For Anyone Interested

I guess this is the right forum to post this link. I wrote this poem (or poems) a while back and recently posted them on my blog. Seems like stuff you Buk-heads might find interesting.

Actually, since everyone is just posting their stuff right onto the blog, I guess I don't need the link. So here you are.



Two Bukowski Fragments


The empire has crumbled completely and
here and there amidst the rubble sprout flowers,
or maybe only one flower in reality, dirty and bent
to a lowered sun ...

There is nowhere to go now
and we have found it ...

*

A large poet
in a small
room

working

 

[Gerard K H Love]

I guess this is the right forum to post this link. I wrote this poem (or poems) a while back and recently posted them on my blog.

*

A large poet
in a small
room

working

The link was blank so I could not see your poem. I like that line.

 

[Father Luke]

The link was blank so...

It was broken for me, too. I fixed it.

 

[wayrob]

The link was blank so I could not see your poem. I like that line.

Glad you liked those lines. That's weird about the link. Let me try it again.

http://robwoodard.blogspot.com/

 

[Phinny]

Dying

My sister's partner's father
He died yesterday of cancer

April 29th, 2008

He was 91 years old

Nowadays
when I hear about
someone dying
I always think

"Good. They got out
at just the right time"

I think everyone dies
at just the right time

But it's not something
you necessarily want to say
to the bereaved.

 

[CarversDog]

Nice, very nice indeed. No one here gets out alive. There are days when I look at the world around me and think, This won't be such an awful place to leave.

And then there are better days ... :)

 

[the only good poet]

the thought of my demise has gained in significance since my daughter was born. i mean - i think about it while i'm drinking and feel appropriately guilty.

 

[Phinny]

"Must be Nice"

Sometimes
people say to me

"It must be nice
to be disabled,
you don't have
to work like
the rest of us"

I always wonder
if they go up to
people in wheelchairs
and tell them

"Must be nice
to not have to
walk, you get
to sit down all
the time"

A few years ago,
I met the wife
of a relative who
said

"My work in
real estate
pays the bills,
but I really want
to get back to my
art"

I remember
thinking it must
be nice to have
the choice

my therapist
says
that people like us
are damned

we must do something
awesome and meaningful
or else
we are lost

I'm not sure
if this is
reward or punishment

it must be nice

to really know
the difference

A significance junkie, I

hard core

All I need is a sandwich
whenever i get hungry
and enough meaning
to sustain me for
the next 24 hours

sometimes I get
strung out
bummed out
burned out

they call that
"depression"

I need a fix
and I usually have
to make some up myself
cooking it in
the silver spoon
I was born
in my mouth
with

they call that
'being an artist'

When you've figured out
you really are not here
and you can do what you want


when the ecstasy

is coursing through
your veins
like a pack
of angry freight trains
righteous

and your brainpan
rings with dopamine
and you inspire others
and you shine

you feel like the
luckiest man alive

soft landings
in the abyss

god as your co-pilot

holed up in
your latest
darkened bedroom
petting your meaning

with a mad smile

My precious...
My precious...
My precious...

 

[HarryC13]

What does a 20 year old man have to write about?

Well, took me a long time to get around to replying to this ... I see that Father Luke has already taken a shot at it ... the name that comes immediately to mind is Arthur Rimbaud, the great French poet of the 19th century. Rimbaud wrote all of his work by the age of 19 -- and then stopped writing and, except for letters, never wrote creatively again. He got into running guns to Ethiopia and died of cancer after having a leg amputated when he was only 37.

So yeah, it doesn't happen often that a 20-year old or even a teen achieves literary success, but Rimbaud is a shining example that it can happen.

 

[Father Luke]

What does a 20 year old man have to write about?

I see that Father Luke has already taken a shot at it ...

Me? Twenty years old?
Is that what you mean?

Bwahahaha!

Surely I've read this wrong.

 

[mjp]

I think he meant that you took a shot at answering the question. ;)

 

[HarryC13]

Thanks for clearing up the confusion, Michael, yes, I did mean he took a shot at answering the question. I don't know about you, Father Luke, but I did take a shot at writing when I was 20. I SUCKED at it, but I did try it.

I'm better now but how much better I'm not sure. Probably something like at that early age I was like a blind pig blundering on an acorn occasionally, but somehow I've gained some vision and now I find 'em a little more often. :D

 

[jmoshea]

I started writing poetry when I was 20 years old. The first bunch would have fit perfectly in a collection by Jewel.

I finally got one down that I liked. I started to write them to try to win back a girl. I sent to her...and didn't hear back.

A couple of years ago she wrote me. First time I had heard from her in a decade. She asked if I still had it somewhere so that I could send it to her. I guess it had a little bit a magic to it. Not enough to get me the girl at the time though.

 

[Father Luke]

I don't know when I got my voice. Only recently, I suppose. And then, too, there are those who would claim I'm mute. I've written my whole life. Writing, and having a voice are really two different matters entirely. To the topic at hand, as a hobby I can tolerate it. Writing, I mean. Tell you what I mean...

I used to be a potter. My mentor told me about how it was fun to do pottery. Making things, being creative, and all that. Then there would come a time when I would have to put away all the fun, and remember that I needed to pay the rent, buy food, pay the doctor bills, and so forth. I've never forgotten that. It was good advice. It's fun to have fun, but when it involves money, people can begin to get mean. "Hey, man! We have a deadline here. C'mon!" And like that. So, I never wrote for a living. I have had a few jobs in my lifetime, but writing has never been one of them. I go to work, do my job(s), get paid, and I come home and I write. There is no one breathing down my neck telling me I have to do this or I have to do that. My writing is mine. And I'm free.

So, as a career, I would have to say - NO! I do not recommend writing as a career. Not ever. But what do I know. I'm not a career writer, I'm not paid to write, you know? So I have no real say in the matter. There is an old guy in the Hotel I live in, and he has written about 25 books. He writes, and draws. Some of the things he has drawn has been on the cover of the New Yorker. We talk about creativity from time to time. How it is nearly impossible to turn it all off. So what is that? That drive? That creative force which can nearly not be contained? He's spent his life illustrating. He now lives in the same little run down hotel as I do. And I have been nothing in my life, so that I may be free to write, and have my free time. He has written, and illustrated so that he might be alone in his old age to pursue his interests, and hobbies.

Fans of irony take note.