Don't Quit The Day Job:
Real Writers Write
–No Matter What!
By Marshall J. Cook
Our local newspaper (which is still actually printed on paper, by the way, although the pages keep shrinking) runs a weekly column called “The Brazen Careerist,” by Penelope Trunk. She recently tackled the subject of keeping the day job and listed three criteria for deciding if you should quit the 9 to 5 and devote yourself to your “art”:
* Did you marry rich?
* Do you have a trust fund?
* Do you have reliable buyers for almost everything you produce?
If you couldn’t answer yes to at least one of these questions, she said, keep the day job.
I definitely went 0 for 3.
Back when I was wooing Ellen Rose Malloy, she lived with her parents in a big, fancy house in the ritzy Hancock Park neighborhood of Los Angeles. (If you’ve seen any movie that takes place in L.A. and they needed exterior shots of rich people’s houses, you’ve seen Hancock Park ) This house even had a maid’s room! (That’s where I stayed when I overnighted.)
The young lady consented to marry me, thank God, and we were blessed with a wonderful son. But as far as the money goes, it apparently all went—on trips to Europe, great parties, and Himself’s unsuccessful run for congress—and more power to him.
So I whiffed on #1.
As for a trust fund, my inheritance from my father went to keeping Mom in a nice nursing home for 12 years after he died. I thank God for Dad’s foresight in providing for her and bear no grudge. My parents gave me everything when I was growing up, and the only payback they ever wanted was for me to do the same if I was lucky enough to have kids. They “owed” me nothing.
[Fortunately, that aforementioned wonderful son has the same philosophy about inheritances.]
So I’m 0 for 2 and facing one last at bat.
A reliable buyer for everything I write? Oh, please!
I’ve been smart enough never to keep a “batting average” (acceptances divided by submissions) and have tried to adhere to my father’s advice about trying to hit a baseball: “It only takes one.” But I wrote novels, the most virulent form of writer’s insanity, so let’s just say I’m no stranger to the rejection slip.
So I take the collar on Trunk’s three criteria, and thus I’ve had a day job all my adult life. Those of you who have read my previous columns know that I’ve been blessed with some wonderful day jobs, involving teaching writing and mixing it up with other writers.
But I also worked construction for a time—and was a much better person for it. Among many other things, it taught me that, when writers and teachers say they’ve been “working really hard,” it doesn’t mean the same thing as when you buck concrete buggies for 12 hours straight in southern California in the summer.
It has taken me a lot longer to come to two other conclusions. I’d like to share them with any fellow wage-slaves who dream of living the life of the fulltime writer. I’d love to hear what you think of them.
1. Your soul doesn’t depend on your job, your boss, or your paycheck.
All honest work is honorable. You can dig a ditch, or you can contribute to building a cathedral. It’s all in your attitude. But even if you hate hate HATE your job, it doesn’t have to corrode your soul or define who you are.
2. You wouldn’t necessarily be a better writer if you did it full time.
You’ll never know for sure, of course, but it just might be that the structure and predictability of a steady job, not to mention the paycheck, might have freed your subconscious to do better writing than you ever would have achieved otherwise.
Just ask folks who’ve been laid off during the current “economic downturn” how much peace of mind all that free time is providing.
Two more reasons to embrace the day job, friends. Be mighty glad you’ve got it, and don’t ever use it as an excuse for not being as prolific and successful as Stephen King.
Agree? Disagree? I’d love to hear from you: mcook@dcs.wisc.edu.
My latest novel, written an hour a day before I went to the day job, is Walking Wounded: A Wartime Love Story, readily available at amazon.com.