Sarah Rees Brennan

This is a complex question with a complex answer!

There are so many changes to my life now, is the simple version! Before they started to pay me to be a writer, I was a girl who, you know, I hope did her (various) job(s) pretty well, but checked in, checked out, was easy-going about it all, and had a hobby I was intensely passionate about. Now I’m a girl who has a job she’s intensely passionate about, and a job that has a lot of ramifications the hobby didn’t: now I spend *much more time working*, because I have to and because I can, and have a whole host of other stuff to obsess about. (I never cared about cover art before…)

Example of Life Change.

Friend, Five Years Ago: How was work?

Sarah: Oh, okay. You?

Friend, Now: How was work?

Sarah: I’m glad you asked! I’m going to murder (name redacted). I’m so happy about (news redacted.)

… an hour passes…

Sarah: And don’t get me started on cover art…

Friend:

My friend Holly Black once told me a story about someone asking about her hobbies, and she was like ‘Hobbies, yes… hobbies…’ and I was like ‘HOME DECORATION!’ and she was like ‘Sarah, you like home decoration?’ and I said ‘No, but you do! HOBBIES!’

I mean, I like cooking and swimming and kickboxing and horse-riding and Monet and country music: I don’t actually swim or Monet-prowl much, though: this is a job that eats your life so the first answer to ‘Hobbies?’ IS a blank, growing-thoughtful stare.

Hobbies…?

I remember being with two writer friends and one was like ‘Tonight let’s not talk about our job! Let’s talk about SOMETHING ELSE!’ and I and Friend B were all:

We were down with her plan, and everything, we just found it initially very confusing. Like that hobbies question…

Our hobby is our job. Our job is our hobby. Also, there is the issue of relaxin’ with some entertainment: I read a book and I am thinking about its place in the market (why did this hit so big in 1860?) and how successful the narrative arc is. Same with TV and the movies.

SARAH: Wizards of Waverly Place actually has an interesting and dark premise, but of course in its execution it is always holding back…

I had thoughts and conversations like this before I was a writer, of course, but… TONS MORE NOW.

And having writer friends, and editor friends, and agent friends, and being edited and critiqued and critiquing in turn and having all these discussions makes me think a ton about my own writing. And everybody else’s. FOR ALL TIME.

I like it! I was born to sit around nitpicking emotional arcs! It is the person I was always meant to be.

But it’s not a person who’s switched off about her job, either. ;)

I mean, I used to be fairly chill about my writing. Read it, do not read it, whatever! Now I am secretly convinced all who do not read my books dislike me personally and think I am talentless and smell of manure.

… Tragic since my brothers do not read my books. I spend family time making faces at them.

… Then I beat them about the heads with a whisk. (‘I PUT MY WHOLE SOUL INTO THOSE BOOKS! WHISK, WHISK TO THE EAR, WHISK TO THE NOGGIN!’)

There is also just the practical side: this is a job now. It is a job I want very badly to keep because I am emotionally invested, obviously—see also, whisk—I love what I do!

But it is, too, what pays the electrics. You have to do it. Otherwise they will not pay you and also you may lose the job and never get hired (or another book bought, in my case) again. Most people in this world spend most of their waking hours working.

Like, this month, I have been very very ‘goin’ to the doctor get some medication faint a bit’ ill: I was writing throughout. I was setting timers so I wouldn’t nap too long. There was a deadline to meet: I had to do it. If it was my hobby and it was a deadline I’d imagined, I would not have done it: it was really hard, you guys. I was so tired I took my pillow around the house with me to remind me of my bed.

Of course, again it’s not all pain and suffering! I loooove my job, and I’m super interested by it, and I think it’s a privilege to get to do it. And also… I would have to do some job, somewhere, because most grown-up people do.

The only way I can think to get out of it is if some millionaire wanted to marry me and support me: not so I could raise the kids, that’s a job, but just if he (or she) was like ‘Sarah, I love you, all I want is for you to sit on this sofa and eat bon-bons so I can bring you all you desire and gaze upon you.’

Or I could win the lottery. But so far, no millionaires have offered and I don’t buy lottery tickets, and honestly even if I was, I’d probably get bored.

SARAH: This is great, sugarplum, and I love you! But I’m going to do some writing now. Thank you for the bonbons! I’m taking them.

MILLIONAIRE: But what about gazing at you?

SARAH: You can gaze at me while I’m on the computer, dollface!… Hey, will you still want to gaze at me when I haven’t brushed my hair in three days?

MILLIONAIRE: …

SARAH: Let’s put that one to the test. To the computer! … Please fetch more bon-bons.

Though if I was wealthy (and hadn’t signed contracts, because that is making a promise and I am not a fibber!) I would have slept for most of the last month, waking only to cough and use my fancy new inhaler.

‘So,’ you say. ‘You are a crazed workaholic, and anyway you have to do your job to pay bills and keep yourself in bread and bon-bons. So really you don’t need any motivational techniques!’

No, I still do. There is still, despite my devotion to my job, much procrastination. Playing around on internet. Taking phone calls. Breaks for snacks. So many snacks.

Can’t write. Need fuel…

But in addition to music that’s inspiring, and love for what you do, and the awesome ideas that get you up at 3 am to write, well… the shame of missing deadlines, the pressure of having writer friends who will be like ‘But what did you get done’ and the wish to pay the electrics bill… also motivational.

I’m not sure what my overall point here is. Reader, I believe YOU may not be sure either.

Maybe… you don’t have to be a crazed workaholic to be a writer, but it helps…?