It is full of tribulation. First he must endure poverty and the world’s indifference; then, having achieved a measure of success, he must submit with good will to its hazards. He depends upon a fickle public. He is at the mercy of journalists who want to interview him and photographers who want to take his picture, of editors who harry him for copy and tax gatherers who harry him for income tax, of persons of quality who ask him to lunch and secretaries of institutes who ask him to lecture, of women who want to marry him and women who want to divorce him, of youths who want his autograph, actors who want parts and strangers who want a loan, of gushing ladies who want advice on their matrimonial affairs and earnest young men who want advice on their compositions, of agents, publishers, managers, bores, admirers, critics, and his own conscience. But he has one compensation. Whenever he has anything on his mind, whether it be a harassing reflection, grief at the death of a friend, unrequited love, wounded pride, anger at the treachery of someone to whom he has shown kindness, in short any emotion or any perplexing thought, he has only to put it down in black and white, using it as the theme of a story or the decoration of an essay, to forget all about it. He is the only free man.
—Cakes and Ale (1930)
Leaving aside that Maugham is under the delusion that everyone is male except wives and those in need of marital advice, how does all of that apply to us pro writers now? Or, rather, to this pro writer in particular.
Tribulation? Check.
Fickle public? Check. Why can’t all of them love all of us all the time? Or even know who we are!
Mercy of journalists who want interviews? Of bloggers yes. Of journalists not so much. But frankly I kind of like it that way.
Of photographers who want to take the writer’s picture? Hah! If only Maugham had lived to the current day when almost everyone in the first world has a bloody camera and feels compelled to plague everyone else with it and will not accept the idea that some people do not want their photo taken. Is there anyone left who’s never been photographed? Are there any souls left unstolen?
Editors who harry the writer for copy? Oh, yes. Just the same! Bastard editors!
Tax gatherers who harry a writer for income tax? How odd. I didn’t realise that in 1930 only writers had to pay tax.
Persons of quality who ask the writer to lunch? Are my editors and agents “people of quality”? Are librarians? I’m gunna say yes.
Secretaries of institutes who ask the writer to lecture? I imagine that still applies. Not to me though. No secretary of any institute has ever asked me to lecture. Rotters!
Women who want to marry the writer? Now, I’m bummed. No woman or man has ever asked me to marry ’em just cause I’m a writer.
Women who want to divorce the writer? But, here’s the upside: no one’s ever asked me for a divorce on account of I write words that turn into books on shelves. Poor Mr Maugham!
Of youths who want the writer’s autograph? This has happened occasionally. And, oh, how I loves it! More, please!
Actors who want parts? Parts of what? Most definitely does not apply.
Strangers who want a loan? Do letters from Nigeria count?
Of gushing ladies who want advice on their matrimonial affairs? Actually, because I wrote this piece I have had a handful of people asking for advice on their love life. None of them gushed though and they were boys as well as girls.
Earnest young men who want advice on their compositions? Check. Though not all earnest, not all young and not all men.
At the mercy of agents? Check. I guess. But my agents, Jill Grinberg and Whitney Lee, are so lovely and so very good at what they do it’s hard to think of it that way.
Of publishers? Check.
Of managers? Writers had managers back in 1930? I didn’t even think they had them now. How strange.
Of bores? Check. But just a tiny percentage of the number I had to deal with when I was an academic.
Of admirers? Check. There’s one or two. Bless their every breath.
Of critics? Check. One or two of them and all.
Of their own conscience? Huh? What is this “conscience” Maugham speaks of? And why would I be at it’s mercy? I am confused!
As for Maugham’s one compensation:
Whenever he has anything on his mind, whether it be a harassing reflection, grief at the death of a friend, unrequited love, wounded pride, anger at the treachery of someone to whom he has shown kindness, in short any emotion or any perplexing thought, he has only to put it down in black and white, using it as the theme of a story or the decoration of an essay, to forget all about it. He is the only free man.
Maybe I’m more neurotic than Maugham—figures, it’s more than seventy years later, neuroticness has definitely grown—but just writing about a trauma or experience does not expunge it for me. Or maybe that’s just because I haven’t really done it. I haven’t written about the people I love who have died. I haven’t typed for hours to make it go away. I am not free.
Though I’ll wager that my writer’s life is heaps happier than Maugham’s!
I do agree with him, though, that the writing part is by far the most wonderful thing about being a writer.
That, and the champagne.
Justine, I’m surprised by your response to the actors bit. By far, the most common response I got to, “I sold a book!” aside from “congratulations” was “can I have a part in the movie?”
Diana: No one has ever said that to me.
Plus, how on Earth would they think selling book = movie. Weird.
I want your autograph! 🙂 I always want writers’ autographs. Seriously, getting an author’s autograph is so much better than getting say, Lindsay Lohan or Britney Spears’ autograph. I don’t want their signatures names on anything I own.
I think it’s weird, too, but EVERYONE says it. I think you hang out with more people in the book biz than I do. The other big thing they ask is when the movie is coming out.
Or they tell me I should get into screenwriting, since that’s where the “real money” is.
Me: “Hi I’m an author.”
Well Meaning But Clueless Person #1: “When is your book going to get made into a movie?”
WMBCP #2: “Can I have a part in the movie?”
WMBCP #3: “Can you get me a ticket to the premiere?”
WMBCP #4: “You should get into screenwriting. That’s where the real money is.”
WMBCP #5: “How can you be an author? You don’t live in New York.”
Will you marry me?
i’ve never asked before because 1)you’re already married, 2)I don’t actually “like” girls, 3)we’ve only met once and 4)it seemed a little creepy on several levels. But, if it makes you feel better, I’m asking. 😉
Ever have someone propose to you based on a meal you’ve cooked? I have a strict policy to refuse all proposals that are based on my cooking ability.
I know a bunch of librarians here in Austin that would really love to take you to lunch. Have your people call my people.
Here’s to Champagne Thursdays! You know, you might want to try writing that 1st page of the next book while you’re still giddy on champagne. I write my Christmas cards after having a bottle (or two) of wine and they are always interesting. You may not have a page of usable material, but it just might be something to laugh about later.
Dawn: Thank you! Though I kind of have a soft spot for Lindsay Lohan on account of I think she’s a not bad actor. I really liked her in Mean Girls.
Diana: I guess I lead an insular life surrounded by other writers and publishing people. And thus mostly don’t get those questions. Though I have had the when-is-the-movie-coming-out quessie. Maybe I need to get out more.
But I bet your answer to the Maugham thing is still no because he says “actors wanting parts”. Are any of the folks asking for parts actual working actors?
Nichole: Ha ha! Your marriage proposal is so empty.
No one has ever proposed to me because of my cooking. And I’m not a bad cook at all! Wow, now I’m even more despondent.
Or would be if it wasn’t for the thought of getting to lunch with all the coolest librarians in Austin! Woo hoo!
Do we have to restrict champers to just Thursdays?
I have indeed tried writing while under the influence. Sadly, even if I’ve only had half a glass, my writing turns to mush. I am no F. Scott Fitzgerald or Raymond Chandler.
I keep waiting to get to the bit where my publisher puts me up in a five-star hotel in Shanghai’s swanky foreign occupation district for me to finish my book.
David: I believe that one requires a time machine. I imagine you’ll find “persons of quality” when you get there and everythink. Say hi from me.
you have two agents? is that normal? or maybe one of them is foreign rights or something. didn’t know one could have two agents. gah!
p.s. i like lindsey lohan’s acting too. but not her. mean girls and freaky friday rocked.
p.p.s. blogging + margaritas = hehehehehehehe.
Well, since you brought up autographs… we met at the Penguin YA authors dinner at TLA in April when the signed copies of your books were MIA. I realized the other day that I never did get a copy! Is it too late? (If it is, no problem, but thought I’d ask.)
Rebecca: Scott has three agents cause he has a Hollywood agent too. Whitney takes care of the foreign rights for the Magic or Madness trilogy. Jill takes care of all my books after Magic or Madness and all their rights.
Laura: I have passed your request onto the Penguin authorities. Let me know if you don’t hear anything but I’m pretty sure they’ll take care of it. They’re usually very good that way.
Thank you!
I guess that’s a “no” to the marriage then? Sigh. Scott is so lucky.
Of course we don’t have to restrict champers to just thursdays. we can drink anytime, but it’s a requirement on thursdays. 😉
The key to getting proposals based on your cooking skills is to surround yourself with people who can’t cook at all. But then, you kind of get stuck with all of the cooking, so it’s not the best plan ever. the bad part about people wanting to marry you because you can cook well is that they will actually expect you to cook later.
I have to say, Austin is blessed with some pretty awesome librarians! They’re even nice enough to let me pretend to be a librarian, too. I obtained official “honorary librarian” status at ALA this year. 🙂
I can barely write well sober, but somehow the terribly written drunken christmas cards are usually a hit.
Rebecca: Thanks for the margaritas idea!
i bet you know more working actors than I do, too. you’re not insulated.
whitney lee, also my foreign rights agent; very lovely.
I think what Maugham meant by being “at the mercy of their own conscience” was about writers being harsh to themselves. Or just doing their own head in. Revisions, anyone?
Does blogging count as writing about all sorts of stuff from your life? I think it does, at least at some level. Even if you don’t do a whole novel about a situation, writing about it clears your mind and makes even you understand everything better. For me, at least. When I was around ten years old, and I’d be mad at my parents, I’d write lonnng letters to them, knowing even as I wrote them that I wouldn’t give the letters to them. But we’ve all done that, haven’t we?
Your assertion that Maugham thinks all writers are male shows a bit of ignorance of the language. At the time of his writing, “he” was the correct pronoun for someone unknown. So, since wives and those seeking maternal advice are known to be female, they get the “she.” Actually, it still is this way, though out of fairness, we say “he or she.” Personally, I’m sickened by the use of “they” as a pronoun for an individual.
Oh, and speaking of individuals…
IMO, any writer still following the old, disgusting “publisher ‘n’ agent” model is as chained-up on the plantation as one can get. The only free artist is the 100% independent artist.
Nichole: Sorry!
Gabrielle: Blogging totally counts!
Rushton: Ignorant, eh? Using “they” as the general singular pronoun has been around a lot longer than “he”. “They” was still being used by plenty of people in the 1930s. It was good enough for Jane Austen and William Shakespeare and it’s good enough for me.
Also I was making an ironic point which sailed past you. I’d give you a feminism 101 link, but I can’t be arsed.
any writer still following the old, disgusting “publisher ‘n’ agent” model is as chained-up on the plantation as one can get. The only free artist is the 100% independent artist.
Good luck with that.
Miss all irony to establish self as self-important blowhard. Check.
At the time of his writing, “he” was the correct pronoun for someone unknown.
Make obvious point that any ten-year-old would know in learned tone to a blogger with a PhD in English and Semiotics. Check.
Personally, I’m sickened by the use of “they” as a pronoun for an individual.
Decry common usage of “the little people” while establishing own ignorance of history of English language. Check and check.
IMO, any writer still following the old, disgusting “publisher ‘n’ agent” model is as chained-up on the plantation as one can get. The only free artist is the 100% independent artist.
Explain how being un-agented and unpublished makes you The Superior Artist. Check. (But it was a nice touch, leaving the H out of IMHO.)
Your work here is done.
I guess I’ll learn to live with the disappointment. I still love you. Can we just be good friends, then?
Scott: You are my hero. In so many ways.
You guys rock. 😀
I want a loan. And I’m stranger than many people, albeit less strange than many others.