On Having Written

This is going to sound weird, but I hate writing. It’s incredibly stressful. I know you’ve had that awful awful sensation of staring at a blank page and feeling nothing but pure panic. For some that feeling hasn’t surfaced since high school or college. For others it’s more recent. For me it’s constant. 

But why would anyone try to make a career as a writer if they hate writing? Well dang, that’s actually a pretty good question. First reason: I’m dog shit at math. Even approaching 30, subtraction is no fun at all and don’t even get me started on division. Second reason: I’ve worked in plenty of offices (law firms, talent agencies, NGOs) and in not a single one of them would they give me a raise for telling jokes. And lastly: my bachelor’s degree is in history, which makes me an excellent bar trivia teammate, but isn’t super conducive to a fruitful career outside of Academia. 

The real reason I love being a writer (even though I hate writing) is the feeling of Having Written. If nothing is worse than a blank page, then nothing is better than a finished script (or essay, short story, novel, epic poem, etc.). There’s a special kind of elation when you type those last few words, hit save three or four more times (just to be safe) and scroll through pages and pages of your own writing. It’s intoxicating. The feeling of Having Written is like drugs (…I imagine. To all future employers and my parents, I’ve never done drugs, never even seen them.)

What makes this feeling even more special, is its fleeting nature. The high wouldn’t be so high if it lasted forever. This particular feeling exists only in the time between finishing a draft and getting feedback on it. During that time, you’re allowed to imagine people fawning over your work, telling you it’s incredible, transformative, groundbreaking. Obviously all that comes crashing down when those notes come in and you realize, you missed several commas, your second act needs a lot of work, and that one joke you really really like just doesn’t make any sense. 

But for a few hours or days you get to bask in Having Written. It’s a lot like that feeling after working out, but before you wake up the next morning and your legs barely work. It’s the inverse of that moment between when you stub your toe and the moment it starts to hurt like hell. 

Trying to make it as a writer, or painter, or photographer, or anything creative, is incredibly hard. We spend years, doing thousands of hours of work for free, without good insurance or 401Ks, just for the opportunity to do what we love and get paid for it. We endure countless conversations of “How’s work going” and have to answer optimistically or risk being a huge bummer. So, while there aren’t a lot of benefits to trying to make it as a creative, the feeling of Having Written makes a lot of struggle feel worth it.