How Do You Know If You're a Real Writer?

I wrote my first short story when I was in 7th grade. It was an extra credit project in my English class, and I had so much fun with it that I completely forgot it was supposed to be work. My teacher's horrified reaction to it (it was a "found journal" horror story in the style of H.P. Lovecraft regarding a giant crocodile in the Amazon river basin) gave me a thrill the likes of which I had never gotten from anything else, and I was hooked. A few months later I decided I wanted to be a writer.

There was just one problem. I had no clue how to become a real writer.

Step 1: Text Step 2: ? Step 3: Rich and Famous

Over the years I bounced from one opportunity to another. I entered poetry and short story contests in high school, worked for campus papers in college, and before I received my degree I discovered there's a whole market out there looking for freelancers to put words on the page. It wasn't till 2012 that I managed to start publishing fiction with some regularity. I thought I'd found the answer, and that I'd become a real writer.

Others weren't so convinced. Here are some of the reasons why.

Where Can I Buy Your Book?

This question is actually two fold. The more direct question being asked is "are you an actual writer, the kind I can find in a real book store?" The second, more subtle question is "Did you write a novel?"

When I started getting my fiction published I had to answer in a double negative. I had written short stories in response to open calls for anthologies, which meant I had some short stories on the market but no novels. As such people shrugged me off. Because I published electronically and with small presses no, my work is not on the shelves at Barnes and Noble or Books-A-Million. This conversation gets repeated a dozen times a day when I'm having a signing or speaking at an event. This leads to the second issue a lot of writers face...

Who Published This?

The world of publishing has changed phenomenally just over the past few years, but if you're not involved in it you'd never notice. With the advent of electronic fiction and Amazon's Create Space (among others) authors who either don't want to deal with the rigmarole of traditionally publishing or who prefer to have full control over their work can go out and become independent authors.

The problem is that the common reader is still very likely to dismiss you if you're an independent author.

Who did you say published this tripe again?

The problem isn't just defending yourself to potential readers though. Traditional publishers have been known to be quite dismissive of independent authors and small publishers, and that attitude permeates the industry. While they might not say "these authors aren't good enough for anyone else to publish them, so they do it themselves," that sentiment is very present. Convincing someone that there are other reasons to be an independent author, and that yes you can be a successful professional doing that, is an uphill battle of Sisyphean proportions. It's only magnified by the fact that there really are a huge number of shitty writers who have decided to self-publish because no one else will take them on. It's a lot like trying to distance yourself from ambulance chasers when you're an upstanding, quality attorney.

For those who want to examine this issue more deeply check out Lauren Jankowski's blog here. A dedicated independent author, her trials with this issue could make a book all their own.

How Much Do You Make?

Not so much that I don't want you to buy a copy of my books. All of them.

I mentioned this on my Things You Should Never Say to an Author, but it bears repeating. There are members of the public who don't realize there are levels of success in writing, just as there are levels of success in painting, music, or any other creative field. Just because someone doesn't make millions of dollars off their work that doesn't make that person less of a writer. That said, there will be people who refuse to consider an author legitimate unless that author makes enough to quit the day job. If you've never tried to do this I can vouch that it is a certified, gold-plated bitch kitten.

So What's It About?

Let's assume for a moment that you are an author with a big contract from a well-known publisher. You've written several novels, and you've been on TV for how much money you've made. Maybe you've even got a few awards and one of your books was made into a hit movie, just as the icing on the cake.

There will still be critics who question your legitimacy based on what your work is about.

*clears throat*

Literary critics turn up their noses at fantasy and sci-fi writers. Genre writers thumb their noses at romance writers. Romance writers roll their eyes at horror writers. The vicious cycle goes any number of ways, but it always comes down to the same statement. "People who write X aren't real writers."

This is the last bastion of the ignorant, the biased, and the judgmental. While I might not accept with grace that there is a monster erotica series based on the premise of bigfoot raping female campers and hikers, I do not deny that the person who created it and makes a living off of it is a professional author.

You don't have to be a fan to acknowledge someone's professional status.

So What Makes You a Real Writer?

Othering is a big problem in our field. Everyone is so eager to get his or her piece of the pie that a lot of authors, and even publishers, are more than happy to throw others under the bus if it means getting a shot at a bigger market share. As you can see there are at least half a dozen bullshit qualifications that have nothing to do with whether or not you're a real writer which people still try to use.

I have two standards of my own, and I think they're two that most of us can agree on.

Are you listening?

Number One: In order to call yourself a writer you must actually write things. This doesn't mean jotted notes on a napkin, or a novel manuscript you've done the same two chapters on fifteen times; you have to actually complete something before you can lay claim to the title. If you want to keep calling yourself a writer though it's probably best for you to keep writing things. If you want to be taken seriously as a professional writer then you must be paid for your work. Whether that's by Random House, or by those who support you as an independent or self-published writer doesn't matter; money is money. If you're ghost writing erotica or turning out books of short stories for a tiny press, if you're being paid then you're a professional.

Number Two: Professionalism. The major difference between someone who is a real writer and someone who isn't is best summed up by author Agatha Christie. She famously said:

“There was a moment when I changed from an amateur to a professional. I assumed the burden of a profession, which is to write even when you don't want to, don't much like what you're writing, and aren't writing particularly well.”

In short if you want to be a writer then you have to do it like it's your job. No spacing out on Youtube, no starting over just because you're bored or not having fun any more, and no skipping the hard work of sharpening up your blade and making stories so sharp you're going to cut every reader who opens your cover. Real writers write, and they do it regardless of whether or not the muse is whispering in their ears, or if it's raining outside, or if the kids are screaming, or they didn't get a good night's sleep. They do, and that is what matters.


As always, thanks for dropping in on The Literary Mercenary. If you want to make sure you don't miss a beat then fill in your email address in the box on your top right, or follow me on Facebook or Tumblr. If you'd like to do your part to keep my words coming then drop your loose change into the "Shakespeare Gotta Get Paid, Son" cup on the upper right, or drop by my Patreon page and become a patron today!

"The Audacity of Hope" or "Why Variable Ratio Reinforcement Keeps You Writing"

Hope is a powerful thing, as every writer knows. Hope can keep readers coming back book after book to see whether or not their favorite characters really do fall in love. It can keep someone turning pages all night even though he has work in the morning because he can't believe there's no way out of the dark place you've taken your lead. Hope also keeps writers putting words on the page even though there's no guarantee that the blog entry, article, short story, novella, or novel will bring in a single, red cent. The kind of writers who are banking on selling books, getting ad clicks, or otherwise earning a living from the things they create for the public to consume do this every, single day.

Why do writers do this to themselves?

Hope. Hope, and a concept called variable ratio reinforcement.

That, and robbing banks is dangerous.

 What is Variable Ratio Reinforcement?

Reinforcement is a psychological term that is used to describe situations where someone's behavior is strengthened. If a child reaches for a hot stove and gets her hand slapped, that punishment reinforces the idea that reaching for the stove is a bad thing that shouldn't be done. On the other hand if a student earns $20 for every A on her report card, then that reward will make her even more likely to shoot for that 4.0 honor roll. When someone takes an action the result of that action leads to behavior being reinforced or discouraged. The more often the result happens the more solidly the behavior is reinforced.

So where does the irregular part come in?

In addition to rewards and punishments there's a reinforcement schedule. This schedule is how often that behavior is reinforced. If every time someone breaks a rule he gets punished, then there's a certainty that bad things will happen if certain actions are taken. That's a fixed ratio. A fixed interval is applying a certain reinforcement after a certain amount of time; getting a yearly raise every year one maintains a job, for instance. Variable ratio reinforcement is when you perform a certain action, but you don't know how many times you have to perform it before you get rewarded. This is essentially how slot machines work, but it's also how a lot of writing works as well.

How Do You Mean?

If you keep rolling this until your character succeeds, you already understand.

This concept works best when you use examples. When I wrote an article titled "The Health Benefits of Oral Sex" on Yahoo! Voices (which you can still read here if you're of a mind) it got a lot of page views. I looked at that, and decided that writing about sex was a smart way to make some money. So I published several other articles including one about sensory deprivation in the bedroom (found right here), and another about the positive effects of pornography (still live right here).

These articles did get some page views, but I didn't recreate the months-long splash and more-than-decent royalty payments I'd earned from the first article. They got fewer views overall, and those views dropped off more quickly. Because I'd seen that an article about sex could generate a lot of traffic though I kept at it. I never managed to recreate the original article's success, and the website got a great deal of content out of me it might not otherwise have received for a lot less payment.

This works the same with book sales. Let's say that you wrote a book about a vampire private detective, and that book shot through the roof and made you a lot of money. Your next, logical step would be to write another book to try and make the lightning strike twice. Even if subsequent books didn't do as well, or if they did terribly, knowing it's possible is sometimes enough to keep you running on the hamster wheel just a little bit longer than you otherwise might.

But I've Never Had Any Successes Like That!

What if I told you that you didn't need to actually experience the success in question to make this effect happen? Knowing that just one pull on the slot machine can make you rich is often enough to make you put your last quarter in the slot. If you've actually won a lot of money on a slot machine before though then you're a lot more likely to keep pulling that one-armed bandit until you either run out of money or you win.

Writers do this all the time, except the slot machine is the publisher and the coins you're hoping for are royalties.

This is easily illustrated in short story anthologies. One anthology might offer $30 for an accepted story, and another one will offer an even split of the royalties. Even if the story is an electronic-only anthology from a first-time publisher, there's a little bug in the back of most writers' heads that tells them royalties might be a better bet if this book takes off. It also means more than one payment, if all things go well. More often than not books in this scenario sell enough copies that no one but the publisher makes a profit, and the writers end up being paid $0.68 each quarter for a year.

Why do we do this? Because the next one might be what hits it big!

Like this book right here, for instance!

The media doesn't make this any easier on us as writers either. Just look on the Internet and you see stories about self-publishing authors who make six-figure incomes off trashy romance and monster porn. That monster porn thing isn't a joke either; read this in case you thought I was fucking with you.

What's The Problem With Hope?

Part of the problem is that I'm a hard-bitten, cynical bastard who likes spitting in your eye. The other part of the problem is that hope does more than keep your energy up, and your outlook positive. Hope, much like cocaine and meth, can blur your energy and make it hard to remain focused and realistic. You can get so high on your own hopes and the potential of victory that it's easy to forget you're betting black on a roulette wheel with a disproportionate amount of crimson on it.

Is it possible for your short story or novel to springboard into national or international fame even though you're an indie author no one's ever heard of with no one to help advertise your story or spread the word about it? Yes, it is. It's happened, as the news and the Internet are only too happy to point out. But the chances of it happening are astronomical.

Keep your hope, by all means. I'll be the first to admit that hope of infecting the world at large mixed with a genuine love of my story (and a touch of spite, if I'm honest) is the cocktail that keeps me going on some projects. But it's important to make sure that you're not just jerking the lever and hoping against hope that the Bestseller Gods take pity and shower you with big sales, TV interviews, and book deals for sequels. If that's the kind of thing you want it's time to grab a shovel and start laying your foundation. Hope is just as useful, but a lot less necessary, when you've actually done the work to build a readership, earn a place with a good publisher, and made certain to refine your craft until you can cut right into your readers' hearts and guts with it.


As always thanks for sticking your head in here at The Literary Mercenary. If you'd like to keep me going feel free to toss your loose change in by clicking the "Shakespeare Gotta Get Paid Son!" button in the upper right hand corner, or going to my Patreon page and becoming a backer. To keep up to date with my latest hits put your email address in the other box on the top right, or follow me on Facebook or Tumblr.

Stop Calling Me A Starving Artist

I made the decision to become an author when I was 14. I won my first poetry competition at 16, and when I was 19 I fell victim to my first publishing scam. I remained undeterred, and when I was 24 became a freelance writer working for newspapers, magazines, websites, and anyone else who would pay me to create the content they needed. When I was 28 years old in the year 2012 I hit my stride as a fiction author and got my first taste of success. Since then I've had short stories featured in seven different anthologies, I've had four stand-alone stories published, and I've even self-published an additional three stories. If all goes well I'll be releasing my first book in 2014.

You wouldn't know it to look at my royalty checks, though.

This is $10 and one gun more than I made in royalties last year.

Whenever I start talking about the financial realities of being an author, people feel the need to give me advice. "Why don't you get a day job?" is probably the most common tip I get, in case the idea didn't occur to me. "You just need to write something that gets popular," is another one. My least favorite, typically accompanied by a slap on the back and a hearty laugh, is "Well you're just doing your time as a starving artist."

We need to stop using that phrase. Why? Well, I'll tell you why.

The Double Standard

Calling someone a starving artist or a struggling artist might be accurate, but it's also putting them in a box. If someone is a painter, or an author, or a steel sculptor there's no need to put a qualifier before it. Defining someone by the art form he or she practices is enough. By calling attention to the person's lack of financial success all the speaker is doing is invoking the double standard of the art world.

The who with the huh?

The double standard artists are forced to contend with is pretty simple. On the one hand artists are told their art cannot be defined by a price the way other work can be. Because art is judged subjectively, there's no way to put a universal price on it. On the other hand artists are judged directly in proportion to how much money they make from their art. The Catch-22 here is that an artist's success justifies the price of the art, but if you can't sell the art in the first place you can never achieve that kind of success.

If an artist does get noticed, and manages to achieve success that can also lead to self-sustaining cycles which are referred to by laymen as "the Big Break". Artists which make a lot of money like rock stars or bestselling authors are judged to be "good enough" for their success because if they weren't then why would so many people pay them for what they produce?

This reasoning shows up in bookstores all the time. People buy bestsellers not because they like the author, or even because they know what the book's about; it's the idea that a book which sold 100,000 copies must be worth something. This logic flaw goes both ways though, which is why if an author hasn't sold a lot of books people may make the assumption he or she simply isn't good enough. We assume an author's previous sales reflect his or her talent, and it's why no one feels bad judging creative professionals they see as struggling.

The True Secret to Success

What really makes an author successful? What puts food in the pantry and pays the rent check every month? What's the big secret of success that divides the struggling from the commercially successful?

You. Readers.

Yes, even this guy.

This is where those cycles I mentioned earlier come in. If a writer gets on the bestseller list, or wins an award, that writer is going to get time to promote to the masses in traditional media, genre magazines, and a dozen other places that "struggling" writers simply won't be able to reach. People see an author and think "wow, he's on TV. Guy must have written something pretty sweet to land this day time spot." By getting his or her signal boosted an author finds an audience, and that audience grows. They visit the author's blog, come to events, buy copies of the book, clamor to see a movie get made, buy merchandise, etc., etc.

You want to know how quickly that can happen? How fast someone can go from a struggling nobody to a celebrated master in a genre? The answer to that is Clive Barker.

Today people know Clive as a painter, a director, an author, and a master of horror. Once upon a time though he was a fairly fresh author with a book of short stories that was tanking badly on the British market. "The Books of Blood" is famous now, but there was a solid chance it was going to fade into total obscurity. Except that one reader thought it was pretty goddamn good, and he said so.

That reader was Stephen King.

Practically overnight the sales of the book skyrocketed, and what had looked like a half-sunk career with maybe one or two more books in it became a titan in the horror genre. Did King's opinion change the words in the book, or alter the intent that Barker wrote them with? Did his approval magically transform a struggling author into a bestseller?

No. The readers did.

The Moral of the Story

The point I've been trying to make is that all of us are authors. We put words on a page for the enjoyment of readers. By separating us into successful authors and struggling authors we are being labeled in ways that can and do affect our careers. Do people want to read the latest release from a "struggling" author? Probably not. Would they be interested in a "local" author? How about a book written by a "horror" author, or a "science fiction" author? That sort of labeling plays less on the heart strings, and more on a reader's curiosity.

Secondly, just because someone isn't on the bestseller list doesn't mean there isn't a great story waiting between those covers. I'm not saying you should just throw aside your favorite writers to start snatching up everyone you've never heard of, but just keep in mind that the number of 0's on a check doesn't necessarily mean what you're buying is a well-written story. Not that you didn't already know that of course, but it bears repeating.

Third, if you really want to help then take a lesson from Mr. King. The greatest compliment you can pay to an author is to tell someone else how great his or her book was. Leave a review on Amazon, make a post on a forum, put up your favorite quote on your FB page, or just talk to your mom and dad over coffee about this fantastic tale you couldn't put down. By doing that, and doing it honestly, you might be the first pebble of an author's own, personal avalanche.


Thanks as always for stopping by the Literary Mercenary. If you'd like to help keep this blog going feel free to donate at the "Shakespeare Gotta Get Paid, Son" button on the upper right hand side, or stop by my Patreon page. Feel free to follow me on Facebook or Tumblr. Interested in some of my books? Check out my Goodreads page.