You Need a Why
“He who has a why… can bear almost any how,” Friedrich Nietzsche.
Writing can be wonderful. It can also be torture. That’s why you need a strong why—a reason to keep doing the work, even on those days when the fun runs out and motivation is low. This is true for all things but especially applies to novel writing because (for most of us) it’s not the 9-5, nobody is paying you to do it, the boss (or the wife/hubby) isn’t pressuring you to get it done, it’s not an obligation… you get the idea.
Here are some common ‘Whys’ when it comes to novel writing:
“I want to be famous”
“I want to be rich”
“I want my writing to be validated by others”
Let’s examine each in turn.
Fame: How many authors can the average person name? Not many. Maybe 10 (Dickens, Tolstoy, Rowling, Twain, Tolkien, Hemingway, King…). How many of those are still alive? You get the point. Almost all authors will die in obscurity. It’s basically impossible to become famous as a writer. But more than just the low likelihood—even if you were to become famous—you still need to toil away in obscurity for a long, long time BEFORE you were famous. No. You need something else to sustain you.
Fortune: Most self-published authors sell less than 100 copies (longoverduebooks.com), while traditionally published authors usually sell less than 1,000 (ideas.bkconnection.com). The time-to-pay ratio is horrific. No, money won’t work.
Validation: This is understandable. We all crave acceptance and admiration. However, though external feedback can be wonderful, constructive, and motivating, it too, is fraught with peril. The people in your life may not like your a) genre, b) style, or c) story. Its just taste—and that’s fair enough. And online, the internet is full of opinions. Some may be good, others scathing. Besides, if we’re motivated exclusively by the opinions of others, we might be tempted to change our authentic style to suit them. We might stray from what we love to suit them. And if I’ve learnt anything as a clinical psychologist, I know that being inauthentic will make one miserable, unfulfilled, and de-motivated.
So why write? If thousands of hours of work will give you neither fame nor fortune nor validation, why bother?
My Why
As a child, I devoured the Astrix comics, The Hardy Boys, The Harry Potter series, The Hunger Games…
As a teenager, I fell in love with fantasy, but especially Tolkien’s, the LOTR’s (this is a vast understatement. I will write a blog to elaborate on this)…
As a young man, I completed two degrees in psychology and forgot all about fiction… I had a girlfriend, a job, friends, a band, exercise, and a million other things. I was busy. I was intellectually maxed out. It wasn’t until I started full-time work that my deep longing for story resurfaced. It hit me like a tonne of bricks. I literally grieved all those years of no story, no fantasy.
I began reading again—and loved it! I got to wander the familiar paths of Narnia, Middle Earth, and Hogwarts again. I found and fell for The Name of the Wind (Rothfuss), the Mistborn series (Sanderson), and others. Freed from the oppressive shackles of university study, my imagination soared. It was wonderful—a glass of water to a man dying of thirst. And in that state of blissful imaginings, I had an idea:
“I should write a novel”
Not the first time in my life I thought it. But stronger, more insistent, more serious. I was actually going to do it.
And why?
Writing fantasy—even more than reading—was thrilling beyond belief. The world, the characters, the plot, the magic, the adventure… all of it was so deliciously delightful. Writing my debute YA fantasy novel, Elderflower, was the ultimate self-indulgence. It brought me joy to bring things into being. I daydreamed more often—and more deeply. There were other surprising benefits as well. I mined my past and found healing in the words I wrote. I found my current blessings making their way onto the page, inspiring a newfound gratitude. However, it’s joy of writing that keeps me going.
I think Stephen King said it best: "I've written because it fulfilled me. Maybe it paid the mortgage and got the kids through college, but those things were on the side—I did it for the buzz. I did it for the pure joy of the thing. And if you can do it for joy, you can do it forever."
When I find myself wanting to quit or even just to procrastinate, I recall my why. It brings me Joy. I’ve never known it to fail.
If you are a writer, or want to be—
What’s your why?
C. S. Laundy
Clinical Psychologist & Fantasy Author
