What Makes Writing More Than a Hobby

When I was younger and liked writing stories or poems just for fun, sometimes I'd write one a month. Other times, they'd descend in swarms and I'd find myself the proud parent of forty, fifty poems from an hour of boredom. Then I went to school for it. 

I can only guess that I was accepted into my writing program because I had at least some promise. I don't think my alma mater would have invited me in if I had zero talent. I mean, obviously they wanted money, but I'm sure reputation has weight too, and they probably wouldn't want anyone to read my terrible work and say "Can you believe they gave her a degree? Guess they'll give 'em to anyone that pays. Strip them of their accreditation!" 

So let's agree that someone thought I had talent. Gosh I feel all warm and fuzzy now, comforted, and...well, I just ate a chocolate chip cookie so I suppose that could be this feeling. Anyway, talent: I had that. But in that collegiate setting, listening to successful writers, the first and most important thing I learned was discipline. Talent makes a hobby. Discipline makes a career.

I'm not talking about ridiculous, instant success. Every person measures success differently. At school I was told, again and again, that the "professional" of "professional writer" means you get paid for it. That would mean that, if I spent three hours a day doing complicated and technical computer stuff and earned a living from it, but at least seven hours of the day was devoted to writing, editing, and reading, I wouldn't be considered a professional writer. That would mean that, if I wrote that often and produced really amazing stuff but I wanted people to read it for free, I wouldn't be considered a professional writer. Talent, discipline, distribution, and an audience, but because I'm not paid, not "professional". That would mean that the author of a really awful--but published!--book was a professional writer, but me with my passion was not. 

I just don't buy it. 

I have no problem calling myself a professional writer. Part of this is because I have a difficult time caring about what random people think of me. I'm fine receiving constructive criticism from educated sources with similar or better talent and passion, and I listen to those people because I want to learn from them. But to say I'm not a "real" writer because I measure my success outside a box someone else constructed is a joke. 

I write every day. I edit every day. I read every day, to explore new forms and topics and lifestyles and just learn new things. I care about what I write. Every day, even if I'm tired or sick or exhausted or busy or just want to lie around watching BBC dramas and eating popcorn. That's the discipline that I learned at school, that's what changed my habits, and that's what changed how I see myself as a writer. It was a hobby when it was a whim, and it became a job when I started treating it like one. Sure, it's more difficult, but it's also worth it. 

Besides, I measure my success first by whether my poems actually kill anyone, and so far, I can tell you, all of them have successfully not caused death. It's hard not to get big-headed when you're batting a thousand. 

Things you may find here

I thought having a food blog would be fantastic. I’m at the point in my culinary experience that I can eyeball measurements, confidently substitute ingredients, and skim recipes before inventing my own methods. Hyperform (spouse) continues to be impressed by my one-handed, stir-fry/omelet flip (though as we discovered last weekend, this success doesn’t extend to vegan pancakes. Not enough binding ingredients to prevent it from falling apart and on the burner, pan handle, floor, my foot, the Monsters, etc. mid-air). But that blog sounds like a lot of work and really, I just adjust other people’s recipes, and it’s an affinity but not a passion. Pass.

Then there are the Monsters, those fluffy felines that provide a steady stream of story fodder. I don’t doubt there’s an audience for a cat blog, but I can’t justify being the one writing it. Also nope.

Just my writing endeavors? So that, in addition to the work I put into the craft, I now have to deconstruct the how and the why and the what on a regular basis? Way to kill a dream, blog.

So. This will be like my phone calls to my mom or friends. Random stuff, varied interests, sometimes talking about my writing but just as often ranting about blue jays or cheese. Maybe I’ll even have some structure to it, like my Monday entry will be about writing. I like structure. But sometimes I have a hard time sticking to a schedule. That sounds like a topic for a future blog post!