You’ve no doubt been asked this elsewhere, so my apologies for the probable duplication, but the Elephant’s child is insistent.

How much of those observations about using one’s creativity, driving oneself; found their way into the Magic books?

I knew what you meant, Justine, about the dual defs. And “bitch” is alive and well amongst friends in the podeans.

[walks away rubbing chin]

Tricia: Thanks so much for this. I love hearing other people’s stories. Just knowing that you’re not alone and that other people are thinking these questions through (a large part of why I’m so besotted with Delany’s book) is comforting. Also a welcome dose of other people’s lot being harder. Me, I have no children and if I did my parents are barely thirty minutes away and at least part of the time my sister is around.

And, oh yes, I know all about procrastination, too. Witness this blog! Er, actually it’s to promote my work! Honest! This is work! Not procrastination!

Scalzi: My mileage does indeed vary. I trained for many years through a BA, a Phd, and a post-doctoral fellowship to be a kick arse researcher and scholarly writer. I can read other kinds of non-fiction, but I cannot write it. Not without learning a whole new genre for which, right now, I have neither the time nor the inclination.

Besides, my natural form is the novel. It’s what I love to write and what I’m good at. Right now, I’m lucky enough that writing two of them a year will generate enough money for me to live on. Fingers crossed it will continue!

But I see your point, Scalzi, about diversifying (my mother calls it having more than one string to your bow) and I have a cunning plan for that. Watch this space!

Diana: I have grown to like the term hack. Especially as I have a number of working writer friends who use it to refer to themselves. Fine writers all! Hello, Sean! Hello, Scott! And sometimes I feel exactly like a work horse!

However, I used it loosely in the post above. I used it to mean both “someone who writes crap quickly” and a “working writer”, which I confess is something else I like about the word. It’s like “bitch” or “bastard”—when your friends use it of you, (mostly) a compliment, when your enemies do, not so much. (Or maybe that’s an Australian thing.)

I agree with you, Diana, I don’t think its selling out to write whatever it takes to make a living. So far I’ve been lucky (as have you!) and been able to sell projects that I love. I haven’t had to go the ghostwriting or other route. But I certainly will if I have to! Here’s hoping neither of us has to and in forty years time in our dotage (thanks, Roger!) we’ll still be doing this.

Lauren: Hey, congrats on getting the ghostwriting gig! Excellent! And remember Scott’s advice, um, something about borrowing cars . . .

You mightn’t be as prolific as me (though I ain’t so very much) or Scott (who’s just about to enter the world of one book a year! Yay!) but you’re way more organised than either of us! Especially me. Wow. Great routine you’ve got going there. I’m so going to try that. Where do you fit email/bloggery into your sched? As I mentioned in the post when the writing is really going I find it next to impossible to fit anything else in. Oh, for robot slaves!

A few years ago, my partner sat me down and asked what I wanted to do. I said I wanted to be a working writer. When we were selling my book, my agent asked what I wanted out of my career. I said I wanted to be making a living as a writer for the next forty years.

I have no illusions about what this will take, It will mean that sometimes (hopefully, the majority of the time) I will write stuff that I really like, and sometimes i will write stuff that I really need a paycheck for. Is that “hack?” Is it any different than bringing home a paycheck for slinging mocha lattes at the corner Starbacks? Sometimes you do what you love and get paid for it. Sometimes you just do what you do to get paid, and you’re lucky if you don’t *HATE* it.

I don’t think it’s “selling out” or “hackery,” I think it’s people trying to pay the rent *and* keep their eye on whatever floats their boat, vocation-wise.

But I’m with Tricia on filling the well. ONe of the reasons I like having a day job is that it gets me out of the house and keeps me from descending into navel-gazing boredom, I know my writing would reflect that.

1) taking longer doesn’t always mean it’s better. Roger said something about quality–and ‘hack’ is a term usually reserved for someone of middling talent who just works hard and settles for a certain mediocrity. But in my experience, you write how you write and you might be surprised at how little difference there is between the stuff you’ve slaved over and the stuff you’ve tossed off on a scrap of napkin. All respect to Prof. Delaney, too, but I wouldn’t let his approach spook you too much.

Some books do require more cooking than others. One of mine took seven years–but I wasn’t just writing that book, I was doing others. It’s great to be able to have a lot of projects and to switch off from one to the other when a given one gets stale. But you have to have a marathon mindset for this–the results don’t come quick.

2) artistic sustenance is really important. I keep going on about Julia Cameron’s THE RIGHT TO WRITE, but this is an idea of hers and I have found it priceless. She calls it ‘The Well’ and it’s a sort of unconscious source of creative ideas/imagery. You need to keep it stocked by taking in all kinds of experiences, ‘artistic’ and otherwise, that will feed your head. The harder you are working, paradoxically, the more of this you need (and the less you will feel inclined to indulge).

In the late 1990s I got a really lucrative 3 book deal for some pseudonymous fiction. I had all day and all night to write. I had money. I had to write only one book a year and I was fine. And you know what? The stuff I produced was not my best work, I still felt neurotic about it all the time, I still procrastinated until deadlines were looming, and I wasted shedloads of time in displacement activity. Now I have 2 hours a day to write, 7 days a week. My productivity is not what it could be. I do not earn very much. I’m forever wishing I had more time to read/write/see movies (the list goes on but I won’t totally bore you) but I think the quality of my fiction has improved considerably. I don’t mess around. I get down to business. OK, maybe I’m still not Tolstoi and maybe I long for those hours spent in coffee shops listening to jazz and noodling around in a notebook–but I begin to suspect that the course of one’s creativity sort of has its own path. What is in you will find its way out, one way or another, if you let it.

I’m NOT saying go out there and get yourself a day job or some kids so you’ll appreciate your writing time! I’m not saying that at all. If you can swing it full-time, then more power to you and go for it. Plus, some days (many days) I’m completely pathetic and get nothing done–I’m not trying to blow my own horn, here. I’m just trying to make the point that ‘necessity is the mother of invention’ and stuff like that. If you want something badly, you’ll find a way to make it happen.

Justine, you strike me as being so modest and so open to suggestion. I have ordered the Delaney book and I’m really looking forward to reading it. But I would also just say, don’t flog yourself to be a certain kind of writer. Just do what you love doing and I bet it will all fall into place for you. You seem pretty damn savvy from where I’m standing.

By the way, I hope this doesn’t sound preachy–don’t mean it to! I struggle with this same thing on a daily basis, and probably many of your writer friends do, too. Maybe I’m posting this just to remind myself of a few things. Some of your posts really hit home with me when I read them.7

Jason: Buy a copy. Immediately. Good luck with your novel.

Roger: Tis true. I hope to grow old at this gig. I believe Liz has answered your hack question.

Liz: Pretty much. Though some of us wear the term “hack” with pride. But I do mean to write the best I can and, frankly, with my editors I couldn’t get away with anything less. Good luck with your novel, too.

The research is almost the best part. Sweet, lovely research. I’m burying myself in accounts of the origins of cricket. Such fun!

However, I’m just beginning to prepare the research for my first novel. Ask me again in a few years’ time.

I’ve just started book #1, and I expect it’ll take me a year to get it done, what with teaching eating into any free time I may have.

Romance Gal: One of the points Delany is trying to make is that writing can be really hard and unless you love it, unless you’re driven, it’s not worth it. If that kind of writing hard work isn’t fun for you, if you’re not interested in a financially dodgy future, then, yes back away.

Rachel Brown: Smart move. Sometimes I think I became freelance somewhat prematurely . . .

Elizabeth: You mean writing two books a year is about your pace? And your books are pretty long, aren’t they? I mean longer than 65 thou words.

But, yes, it’s the not having time to rest and think in between books that I find hardest. Brain need regenerate often!

I’d freak out less about the time I have to take off between books to let my brain regenerate, though.