Qualities of the Full Time Fiction Writer

There was an interesting discussion that started over on another writer’s blog essentially about how few writers make a living in science fiction and fantasy. Well, it’s true. Outside the shining lights like J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, and a few others, science fiction and fantasy has pretty much the lowest advances among all the major genres. While a lot of first time novelists in sf/f are getting between $5000 and $7500, and that’s from the major publishing houses (small presses are a heck of a lot less), first time romance and mystery writers often get a lot more. Which is what got me thinking about the writers I know who are making a living strictly from their fiction. What do they have in common? If we forget the bestsellers for a moment (yes, all writers without the garret mentality would love to be bestsellers, but that’s not something you can control), how does your competent journeyman fiction writer live off his or her work? While not mentioning any names, here’s a few conclusions I’ve drawn:

1. They’re prolific.

It’s a job to them and they treat it as such. Many of these writers crank out a minimum of four to five books a year — on top of short stories, articles, and other writing. Seem like a lot? Not really. Let’s say you average three pages of copy an hour, or about 750 words. In my experience, this is on the low end of what most professionals produce, but let’s err on the side of caution. If you work four hours a day at the actual writing (you’ll need time for all the other activities that being a professional requires), that’s three thousand words a day. Do it five days a week, just like, you know, a regular job, and you’ve written 15,000 words. Do it twenty days a month, leaving yourself a couple days off for holidays and such, and you’ve got yourself sixty thousand words. That’s technically a novel writer right there, though it’s a pretty short for most genres. But let’s say we assume an average of 80,000 words. That’s still nine novels a year. Of course, abandoned manuscripts, redrafts, short stories, and other things will most likely eat up some of that total, but you can see that four to five books a year is not really that big of a deal — not if you’re working at it full time. And many writers manage to do this with day jobs.

2. They’re willing to write in multiple genres.

If you limit yourself to science fiction and fantasy, you’re going to find it a tough road making a living. This is partly because of the low advances (the advances are justifiably low because sf/f accounts for something like 7% of the fiction market, where as romance is around 35%, mystery 25%, and general fiction 25%) and partly because it’s really tough finding homes for four to five books a year just in sf/f. And the sandbox is so large, why limit yourself? Personally, I think it’s a lot more fun writing across the genres. Remember, also, that you can write sf/f and market them to other genres. Books like The Sparrow and The Lovely Bones could have just as easily been marketed as sf/f, but because they were sold as mainstream books, they sold probably a hundred times as many copies, if not more. Probably a lot more.

3. They’re willing to write under pseudonyms.

Oh, boy, this is a big one for some folks. Some writers are so tied up with their own names that they just couldn’t bear to write under another. Too much ego involved. But in today’s publishing world, with buying to net and detailed inventory tracking, fiction writers find it tough to write under their own names their entire career. The big box retailers want bestsellers now and they’re not willing to wait. If your sales don’t show a steady improvement with each book, you eventually won’t find any takers, requiring you to either sell to the small press or start over under another name. Most professionals, since they’re living off this income, take the later route. And again, if you’re prolific, you’re going to need to write under pseudonyms anyway. The good news is that each name becomes its own independent business, so if one name tanks, you’ve still got others.

4. They’re often not only willing, but eager to take media tie-in work.

What, and sully their good name? Never! But most professional fiction writers would much rather be writing media tie-in fiction (Star Trek, Stars Wars, Battle Tech, etc.) than working a day job like the rest of us stiffs. And most of them, believe it or not, actually enjoy writing these books. One of my first sales was a Star Trek short story, and I had a blast. It was as if somebody gave me little action figures from a show I loved while I was in high school, and told me they’d pay me to play with them.

What I also find interesting are the folks who routinely bash media tie-in books often have never read any of them — or they miss the obvious, which is that reading fiction is an optional activity, and if somebody wants to get a Star Trek or Star Wars fix by reading a book, then that’s what the market dictates. It’s not because, as some jilted writers would suggest, those “stupid publishers” are killing the midlist by filling it up with media tie-in books. No, dummy, that’s what readers want.

And wouldn’t you know it, many of these readers go on to read “original” books as well. I know that when I was in elementary school, I read a lot of comic books and media tie-in books, because the reading was easy and it was fun, and it was one of the reasons I got hooked on reading at all. And I still occasionally read comic books and media tie-in books for the same reason.

5. They’re smart about the business side of publishing.

Seems like a no brainer, but it’s amazing how few writers do. If you want to make a living as a plumber, you’re going to learn everything about your trade, right? Most professionals regularly read the trades (Publisher’s Weekly, Locus, Romantic Times, Mystery Scene, Publisher’s Marketplace) to keep up with what’s happening in publishing. On top of this, though they’re artists, and care about their work, they realize that to make a living they’re also creating a product (we pause now for a moment of screaming from the literati), and that they have to treat it like a product if they want to make a living.

6. They’re constantly striving to get better.

This one goes hand in hand with the last one. Most of the writers I know making a living in this field are also the ones who are always striving to get better. They attend conferences. They read books on writing. They study the works of other writers (usually ones selling better then them). Often, they teach, and this is partly because teaching something is one of the best ways to learn it.

7. They have agents who want prolific writers and understand how to work with them.

A good agent can help make a writer’s career. A bad agent can sink it. A professional writer seeks out the former and avoids the latter — and if they find themselves with the latter, they get one of the former. It’s nothing personal. Remember, an agent just helps sell the work. There are some great agents who don’t want their writers to write more than one book a year, but for the prolific writer wanting to make a living in this field, these are not the agents for them. Fortunately, there are a lot of agents out there who see prolific writers as a good thing. And why shouldn’t they? If you have a writer who’s prolific, professional, knows the business, and is constantly striving to get better, wouldn’t you rather have more books from them? Look where these qualities took somebody like Nora Roberts. You don’t like her work? You sneer down at it as merely romance? Fine, it’s your loss. But no good agent in the business wouldn’t want her as a client.

All of this fits in line with my own aspirations, and the way I try to approach the craft. Because yes, even though you’ve got to treat writing fiction as a business if you hope to make a living at it, it doesn’t mean it isn’t also a craft. A passion. An obsession. Call it what you will. But if you’re an aspiring professional, the more of these qualities you possess, the greater your chances of making a living as a fiction writer.

Worldcons and Hermits

I’ve reached the two thirds mark on the second pass on the young adult fantasy. The goal is to push through this second pass and finish it by the end of the week. Then it goes to the First Reader (who happens to also be my wife, making for a sometimes sticky situation, but her critical skills are too good to pass up), after which I’ll finally get the thing in the mail to a publisher.

Speaking of genres, while I was doing a little Web surfing I saw that the latest Hugo Awards had been announced. These are the awards that the attendees of Worldcon, the biggest science and fantasy convention, give out each year. It reminded me of my experience at last year’s Worldcon in Boston. I really enjoyed meeting some wonderful people, including Matt Cheney, who’s becoming something of a noted critic in the field; Jeff VanderMeer, whose writing career has moved into a new gear; Stan Schmidt, editor of Analog, buyer of three of my stories, and all around amazing guy; as well as many, many other nice folks. It was great putting faces with the names, and getting a sense of the people I knew only from their writing or editing. Except for an Orycon I attended back in college, this was my first real Con experience. I really wanted to know what it was all about and I’m glad I went. However, I also learned that conventions are not my cup of tea, and I’ll be a very, very infrequent con-goer at best. For me, I’m much better off spending that time writing and reading. There are writers I’ve met who have used conventions to make a lot of connections, connections that have undoubtedly helped their careers, but ultimately publishing is always, in the end, about the work itself. You can have all the connections in the world but if you can’t tell a good tale, they won’t help you much. And that’s what I love about writing fiction, too. If you do nothing but write a lot, read a lot, and keep striving to get better, you can have a very nice career from the comfort of your own home. Lots of writers have. It always seems to amaze people when I tell them (usually after they ask just how I managed to publish stories, and, my god, for actual money) that I just put them in envelopes and mail them out to markets that might buy them.

There’s the other side of conventions, which is the social aspect, the sense of community, and that has a lot of value. I’m fortunate to be surrounded by lots of writers here in Oregon, but even so, there are times when I still feel like I’m writing essentially in isolation. Even being surrounded by writers, I sadly don’t get too see them all that often. There’s just too little time these days, and when it comes down to it, after the day job and family, most of what remains must go to writing and getting better at writing. But I try not to be too much a hermit, getting out when I can. Of course, if the choice comes down to hanging out with writers or going to the zoo with my daughter, as I did yesterday . . . well, there’s no contest, is there? Just love those monkeys.

Recent reads: Finished H.G. Wells’s War of the Worlds. I think I’d read it long, long ago, but I hardly remembered it at all. With all the publicity around the new movie (no, I haven’t seen it, and don’t plan to), I wanted to read it again. The mode of storytelling seems a bit dated, a sort of first person journalistic account, but since it’s so dated it’s almost fresh again. Strangely, this book reminded me of Cold Mountain, which couldn’t be more different in subject matter, since it deals with the Civil War and not an alien invasion — but they both deal with a main character trying to make his way home to his beloved while having a series of mishaps and adventures along the way, each of these episodes revealing something about human nature. Also, I finished off Joseph J. Ellis’s Founding Brothers, which was an entertainng book about all the subtle and not so subtle ways our founding fathers (focusing on Washington, Jefferson, Adams, Madison, and Hamilton) were connected. It doesn’t delve too deeply, but it’s a great overview. What always amazes me, when I think about it, is that the population of the United States in 1776 was roughtly the same as Oregon’s population today — a little less than three million. I have a hard time imagining all of those talented people coming out of Oregon today, but I suppose there’s two reasons it happened during the Revolutionary period: 1) History has been very kind to the Founding Fathers, in most cases eliminating their flaws and elevating their strengths and 2) trying times, to slightly modify Thomas Paine’s famous sentiment, bring out both the best and the worst in people. If these men had been born ten years later, we most likely never would have heard of any of them.

A Psychological Stew

About halfway through my second pass on the young adult fantasy, and so far, I’m feeling good about this draft. It definitely has a richer texture than the previous ones. The reality never quite matches up with the vision I have in my mind, but I find that the more I work at my craft, the closer I get to the vision. At least, sometimes. There are also times such as yesterday, when I took a break from the novel to work on a story for an upcoming horror anthology, when I lapsed into moments of despair at how big the gulf is between the kind of writer I want to be and the kind of write that I am — or, as I said to my wife, that my reach seems so much farther than my grasp. But then a couple things happened, as they often do, to pull me out of this mood. First, as I was transferring this story from my desktop computer to my laptop, I happened to use a disk I hadn’t used in years, and it turned out that on this desk were a couple of stories from four or five years ago. Reading them, I nearly gagged at how bad they were (so bad I quickly dropped them from inventory, and, apparently, also from my conscious mind). It made me feel better, knowing that the million or so words I wrote in the interval weren’t wasted, that my craft had definitely improved in that time.

Then, making me feel even better, I got my galleys for my upcoming story in Analog (“A Christmas in Amber”) in the mail. Looking over the story, which will be my third appearance there, I suddenly realized that I could, in a way, now be considered a regular contributor — and how strange this feeling was, making me remember when I was wet-behind-the-ears eighteen year old freshman in college having late night coffee with a bunch of other aspiring writers, dreaming of the day when my name would appear in what’s called the Big Three in the science fiction field (F&SF and Asimov’s being the other two). So while I would prefer that these nagging doubts and black moods vanish as I progress as a writer, I’m thinking that ain’t all that likely. But at least I’ve got more life preservers to keep me from drowning in my own psychological stew. That’s something.

In reading news, finished Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince a couple weeks ago. Say what you want about Rowling’s literary merit, this woman is a hell of a storyteller. You might toss off the first book as lightning in a bottle, but you don’t captivate millions of readers for six books unless you’re spinning a great yarn. And this is a great yarn. Can’t wait for the final book.

Productivity

Well, my novel-in-a-week challenge last week went pretty well. I ended up doing just short of 70,000 words, definitely a one week record for me, which is the equivalent word count of a book. However, I didn’t quite finish it — it’s my third run at a young adult fantasy I’m trying to get right — but it’s close. Just a chapter and a half to go.

All in all, I’m glad I did this, as I’ve always found I work well under pressure. It was also helpful to have other writers participating; we had our own virtual writing community, and each night we posted our totals as well as shared our struggles and triumphs. Did we all come away with sellable books? Who knows. In the end, I really ended up writing not much faster than my normal drafting speed; I just put in a lot more hours. The book still needs work. It’s a lot better than the first two drafts, I think, but I’m going to have to go over it chapter by chapter, most of all for setting and sensory details, but also for voice miscues. Still, I feel good about this one. I feel like I know what to do. It’s just a matter of doing it.

Lately, I’ve been gearing myself up to really increase my productivity, and this week helped kicked things off. I’ve been fairly productive the last three years (probably about a quarter of a million words of fiction a year, spread between novels and short stories), but I know I can do better. When it comes down to it, if you want to “make it” as a professional fiction writer — however you define that — the only thing you can really control that has a direct bearing on your chances of success is your production. Of course, you must also strive to get better, studying, learning from others who have walked the road, but none of that matters much if you don’t produce.

So I’m upping my productivity goals. It’s a fine balancing act, what with a full time job, a supportive wife, and a two year old, but it can be done. What I give up — television, mostly — I don’t miss much. What really drives me, and what will continue to drive me no matter how far I go with my writing career, is the desire to become the best storyteller I can be. I get so many rewards from that pursuit that it makes the short term sacrifices worth it.