Writers love the art, not the cash

by Kay Hoflander

November 4, 2006






"Ihave been trying to write a book about how to combat writers’ block, but I can’t figure out how to start it.”

Doug Hecox, newspaper humorist, offered that retort when he spoke this past summer to the Washington Independent Writers’ Conference in D.C.

As Hecox knows, inspiration can run low for writers.

Any writer can also tell you that writing is hard work.

Thomas Mann once noted that “A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”

Amen.

Writing is complicated enough, but to inject humor into it as well is downright tricky.

Humor writing, according to Hecox, is a delicate and intricate thing.

“Humor cannot be taught. It is like rhythm, or musical ability. You either have it or you don’t, and the worst music comes from those who think they have the special gift that the audience knows they don’t. We all know the guy, or gal, who thinks they are funny—but aren’t. Or the person in church who loves singing, but shouldn’t. Humor is very much a genetic gift and, while we all appreciate it, we can’t all do it. Humor can’t be taught,” Hecox adds.

Here’s his good news for writers or would-be writers though, “Even if no one ever reads it, or publishes it, you the writer had a good time writing it, and that’s the most important part. It’s the truest definition of art—when the artist does it for its own sake, regardless of third-party opinion.”

And, regardless of high pay.

I can hang my hat on that pretext.

For instance, the other day my husband asked me, “So when are you going to write The Great American Novel” and make millions?”

I tried to explain to him that writing is much like the artistic pursuit of a “starving artist.”

In other words, do not hold your breath expecting a nice royalty check, I told him.

I don’t think he gets it.

Once I tried to explain this lack of high pay to some budding young authors at a middle school writers’ workshop, but they were not interested at all in making money with their writings.

Smart kids!

They were focused on the pure joy of writing and were much more concerned about how writers get their ideas than how much they get paid.

Any writer knows that ideas can be more elusive on any given day than a high paycheck.

Some days are truly void of ideas.

The dry spells can linger, too, and who can be funny when you are in a slump?

One author/presenter at the conference told the kids how she would try just about anything to become inspired to write a funny story.

Once she spent an entire weekend living in her car just to see what the experience was like. Then, she wrote about it, and indeed, it was hilarious.

I do not want inspiration that badly.

Never expect me to camp out in my car, live in a tree, or walk cross-country for the sake of a funny story.

I’ll find my motivation elsewhere.

Case in point, last Christmas a well-meaning soul gave me a tiny book, a 3-inch by 3-inch square block of a book entitled “The Writers’ Block, 786 ideas to jumpstart your imagination.”

Should I use some of the 786 ideas it proffers? Maybe. You be the judge.

Writers block idea number one. Write about an incident that could be used against you if you ever ran for political office.

You have to be kidding.

Idea number two. Take revenge on your least favorite teacher in high school. Write a funny character sketch that exposes his or her flaw.

Possible. I have one in mind.

Idea number three. Write about the secret life of a school bus driver.

Not going there.

Idea number four. Write about a beauty pageant without using stereotypes.

Not possible.

Rather, I think I will write about a character that is struggling with writers’ block.

So when my husband sees me staring off into space in search of an idea, I will defend myself with Burton Rascoe’s observation, “What no spouse of a writer can ever understand is that a writer is working when he’s staring out of the window.”

As Jules Renard wrote as long ago as 1895, “The story I am writing exists in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air. All I must do is find it, and copy it.”

I really am working, dear. Sorry about the money part.