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I just read the saddest and most disturbing of blog posts.
It was written by a friend of mine, someone who I greatly admire and respect, especially as a writer.
He's excelled at all facets of journalism over the years—writing books, articles and memoirs, teaching the subject at universities and editing well-known publications both online and in print.
But now, and sadly, this talented and accomplished writer thinks he's burning out. He states that his "writer's spirit is starting to die," and he's asking himself, "why does any of this matter? What good am I doing?"
Unlike this friend, I don't write for a living. I write because I enjoy it and because I enjoy sharing my writing with others online. Because of this difference, my advice and perspective may be a bit skewed, but I can't help but comment.
He asks, "Why should a man like me, at my age and with my past, not feel cynical?"
And my answer, although I think his question is meant to be moot, is this:
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My friend,
You have every right to feel cynical.
I can only imagine how difficult earning a living as a writer can be. I know it was a tough racket back in the day, and now—especially with all the online competition—the market is over-saturated, underappreciated and even more underpaid than ever. And like you say, you know you're not the only writer experiencing this dilemma.
In addition to journalists, I think musicians are really getting screwed too, and even more so than writers. Their music is being pirated online, and live concerts get bootlegged—both audio and on video—and released without their consent.
Thankfully, most of these artists persevere. Holy crap, can you imagine if the music stopped? If all these great musicians all got flustered and just stopped the creative process? Where would we be then?
Back in the eighties and early nineties it was thought bands had to be signed to a major label such as Geffen Records or Elektra if they wanted to be successful—just like writers thought if Simon & Schuster published their book, it would be an instant New York Times best seller.
But things have changed. Musicians are now producing and distributing their music by themselves, and authors are writing and self-publishing on their own terms. They may not be getting rich, but they're getting by in life, and by God, I thank them for the music and the words.
You, who I consider a mentor, must reinvent yourself, your work, your priorities. You must adapt. The Flaming Lips (I know you know their music) are a great example of a band from the eighties that have adjusted well to these modern problems.
How to perform this reinvention as a writer, I have absolutely no idea, but the one thing you must NEVER EVER do is stop writing. Whether you know it or not, you were born a writer. It's in your blood, and your past is the prologue that proves you've always had a passion for it.
Do whatever you have to do. Go back to teaching. Get a part-time job to supplement your income. If you must, take a sabbatical from some of your many online writing outlets, but dammit, you best be working on your Rock & Roll magazine memoir during the interim. There's a bunch of great stories there—I can smell them. Also, you may find you're a happier writer if you aren't writing for your main source of income.
Teach, and feel the reward.
Remember when we had dinner at the Irish pub? I kept pestering you about things like the em dash, comma control and whether one spells the number "thirty," or just types "30." You answered the best you could, but as you knew and tried to convey to me, there are no absolute correct answers to these things.
And here it is years later—and I'm still quite the amateur with this whole writing thing—but I'm telling you likewise, there are no correct answers to your lament.
"Why does any of this matter? What good am I doing?" you ask.
It matters because people read and appreciate what your write. You inspire. You make people think and you can sway opinions with your words. You entertain. And yes, you probably got paid well for this in the past, and I'm sure it's a bitter and disheartening realization not to be anymore, but there's no going back, not with these changing times.
And like it or not, you're still a writer.
Reinvent. Adapt. Aspire. Start something. Write about THIS subject. Yes, write a book about how technology has changed/ruined/shaped the media. It could very well be more epic than David Halberstam's The Reckoning.
But friend, if you must give-up writing, just know I would have given anything to have been on your coattails back in journalism's heyday. You were there when the getting was good.
I wish I'd been a student in your classroom—and if I had been, maybe I'd now be running The Huffington Post, where I'd hire you as Editor-in-Chief and pay you the top-dollar you deserve.
The world and Internet are full of people who think they can write—but can't. Losing someone who actually can is a crime I don't like to think about.
Just please don't stop writing.
Your post broke my heart.
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FiN.
