I have a writer friend who is having a bit of a tough time right now, and I am writing this for you. (You know who you are.)
It is okay, natural, and possibly even healthy that you are having trouble embracing your writer identity right now. Take your time about it–it’s an important identity to get to know. And I’ll let you in on a little secret: your writer identity is like your super hero identity. Yes, I’m serious. Right now you’re learning to find the super hero within.
On the outside, writers may appear like normal human beings. Some of us are frumpy or bad dressers, some of us need haircuts. Many of us wear spectacles. Some of us have unexpected hair colors or holes in our bodies that weren’t there when we were born. Some of us have a clear affinity to steam punk and corsets, others to shapeless T-shirts with geeky slogans on them. A lot of us are introverts, and we can often be found with our noses stuck in a book (or a smart phone, or a Kindle, or…). But all of this is just a facade, a way to divert attention from our secret identities.
All writers are super heroes. We fight ignorance and apathy, loss of wonder and despair. We entertain people who deeply need to be distracted from pain or sickness. We make people think of consequences, both of personal actions and society’s decisions. We remind people of what it is to be human, both the good and the bad, and we inspire people to strive for the best.
Many writers live in the stars. We dream of times past and future, reinterpreting what has happened and twisting together visions of what is to come. We deal in possibilities, in vast heroics and small personal acts of courage, in envisioning worlds that we hope for and fear. We keep the spark of ideas alive, even ideas that aren’t enjoying their time in the public spotlight, so that someday when we need them, they will still be available to us.
We create characters who take the proxy role of mother and father, husband and wife, best friend, diabolical arch-nemesis, and noble mentor. We teach people how to live, how to survive through hard times, and how to die. We serve as society’s mirror and conscience simultaneously.
Sometimes we get tired. Sometimes we fall short. Sometimes we feel like we’re not really super heroes after all, and we don’t belong in the Super Hero League of Awesomeness. Maybe we lack some credentials, or maybe we don’t know the right people, or maybe we’re not good enough yet. Maybe not enough people read our stories or buy our books or follow us on Twitter. We are unsung, unappreciated, without creative mojo. We toil away in our anonymity and obscurity, wondering if what we’re doing even matters.
But oh, my friend, when you ask yourself this question (as I know you will, because we all do), answer with a resounding Yes! It is the lot of a super hero to be handed thankless tasks and toil away with little personal reward. But we continue because of our conviction that it matters; that we can, in our own humble way, make a difference.
We give the world its voice. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.
The Practical Free Spirit 
This is excellent. Very inspirational!
Thanks, glad it spoke to you!
I worry about overinflating the role of writers. First and foremost, writers are storytellers. Some stories change lives, true, but when a writer focuses on morality tales vs entertaining, the story generally suffers and a book isn’t nearly as powerful as it could be.
Writers are people, just like everyone else. They just have a talent at writing interesting stories.
Sure, writers are storytellers. Writers can be all sorts of things, of course. It depends on the writer, and we all get to choose our own framing of it. Personally I think it’s fun to imagine being a writer super hero.
I wasn’t really talking about morality tales in particular, but in my experience writing does have impact. And sometimes for people like my friend who are feeling a bit down, remembering that can be helpful. How any given writer approaches their craft is a separate matter, and one I wasn’t meaning (at least purposefully) to address.
Those are some good points. I mentioned it because I’ve seen more writers declaring (especially in the face of the #yasaves debacle) that they’re writing to save lives. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but it’s becoming worrying in that I’m seeing almost a god complex developing.
Maybe I’m overstating, but writers viewing themselves first as saviors and secondarily as storytellers could become a problem when someone who criticizes the quality of a book written to “save” someone is lambasted as villainous for not supporting the life-saving efforts of the author. A book may well save, but not every book will, nor will every book intended for that purpose be of good quality.
I guess it’s one of perception. I know I’m not a superhero just because I write, but that has no impact on the quality or validity of my work.
Ah, I am seeing where you are coming from much better now. I actually wasn’t thinking at all about the current conversation in YA when I wrote this post, for better or worse. I can see how one could conflate superhero with savior, but that wasn’t my intent.
It is my belief that everyone is entitled to their own personal opinion about a piece of creative work (whether good or bad), regardless of the intentions behind that work. After all, many people love much of Wagner’s work even though they may not agree with his political ideologies that were reflected, to a certain extent, in that work. Works both ways.
THANK YOU VERY MUCH AMY!!!! MUCH LOVE TO YOU!!!!!!!
Mary
You are most welcome!
I’ve spread the word on this post. It meant something to me and I think a lot of people need to feel that you’re writing about them.
Amy, your blog makes me think of a glass of water with a sprig of mint from the garden. Makes me wish I was a nicer person, which is not a bad thing.
Ultimately I am writing for whoever needs to hear it. 🙂
Thanks, Sean. I predict that I am going to be repeating your compliment to myself for quite some time.
Drawing a little from your last post here, also, I do sometimes think there’s a tendency to romanticize writing. I won’t begrudge you wanting to uplift and support your friend. And it’s true that writers can inspire people. But as for the writing itself, there’s usually very little romance or super-heroics involved, in my opinion. It’s plain, good, old-fashioned work. I was at a conference where someone in the audience stood and spoke about how he’d given up so much time and so many of his friends and hobbies to work on his novel. One of the professional writers on the panel said, in essence, “Hey, cry me a river. If you wanna write, you write. It’s no big dramatic thing. You sit down, you write. You deprive yourself of other things, that’s your business, but don’t expect me to laud you for your ‘sacrifice'”. And, the professional writer was right.
Always enjoy your posts!
Oh, I am completely romanticizing writing. I really respect the, for lack of a better term, focus on work of many writers today (I see it most in the SF/F/H communities, although it may well be strong in many others). However, I want there to be both! (See the practical *and* free spirit in my blog’s title.) Yes, a lot of writing is plain old-fashioned work. I’ve just come over to comment from hacking away at a story, so I’m very well aware of that aspect. But sometimes it’s nice to see the more romantic side of writing as well.
Really, I think a balance between the two is optimal, at least for myself.
A lovely post, Amy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
This will come as a shock to anyone that knows me, but sometimes even *I* get weary of my career. I’m going to bookmark this and refer to it, preferably with some appropriately inspirational anthem playing in the background.
No way! Eric, you are ruining my illusions! 😉
Okay, but seriously. We all need to be picked up from time to time. Such is the human condition.
We writers are portals to alternate realities.
And yet, it’s hard for a lot of us to get street cred. So thank you for writing this really inspiring post.
I love that sentence, Ada. I completely aspire to be a very magical portal indeed. Reaching high!
Thank you, Amy! It certainly feels like a Herculean challenge most of the time, and writers willingly give so much of themselves to create something that may never see the light of day. Very brave, indeed. To contribute something that matters to the world is a noble impulse. The method may be unromantic, but the aspirations aren’t.
“The method may be unromantic, but the aspirations aren’t.”
Exactly! There are certain literary figures who I find *so* romantic, even though I’m sure they toiled and worried and revised until their fingers turned black.
Inspiration and optimism are your cape and boots, Amy, and they both look good on you. This is your best post yet–excelsior.
Nicely put, Rich. 🙂
Also, welcome back!
It’s funny. Every time a writer is characterized as brooding, drunk, angry, self-obsessed, narcissistic, etc. no one says a word. You try to put writers in a positive light – even for a moment – and people jump all over you.
I’ve been writing all my life and earning a living at it for a decade. Every day I still worry if I will lose the privilege that is my life as a writer. I’ll be honest – I don’t know that I’m a super hero and I don’t know that it is my role. In constant fear of irrational hubris suddenly taking hold of my faculties, I stave off any kind of celebration or glorification of my work.
So thanks for this.
Here’s what I do know:
Writers exist in the white spaces between the words. They are the invisible people who, fueled by a shit-mix of fear, optimism, caring, insanity, imagination, ego, nurturing, desperation (and who knows what else), try to give a shape to nothing and fill in the blanks that they see in the world that other people don’t notice. Frustration is a constant companion when you’re impossible people trying to do impossible things. Writers know this but they take on their task just the same.
Some are noble, some are flawed, some I love, some I hate.
But I am thankful everyday for writers.
We all have a place in this world, and I see nothing wrong with taking pride in that place. Sometimes I think modern society places too great an emphasis on not appreciating one’s own merits. Unfortunately, I suspect that it is the people who would not have fallen into irrational hubris in any case who end up worrying about this the most. I’ve actually been thinking of writing a post about this, but haven’t sufficiently organized my thinking for it yet (plus suspect it will be a hard sell in any case).
“Writers exist in the white spaces between the words.” Love this imagery. Love it!
I have a pet theory that arrogance ultimately results in ignorance. If you think you know everything then why would you try to learn anything, right?
Interesting idea that the people who worry about irrational hubris are usually the ones who don’t suffer from it. I’ve never considered that. I wonder if that worry is the thing that keeps them from the hubris. Like they’re self-policing against it. Usually I find people hate things they see in other people because they fear these things in themselves but maybe that makes everyone out to be too narcissistic…
The thing that worries me about arrogance and hubris is that no one thinks they’re arrogant – not even the most arrogant people. Just like everyone assumes they are good, have good taste, have a sense of humor, etc., everyone assumes they are humble.
Totally agree that often people are often afraid to appreciate themselves. I think people are the stories that they tell themselves. Writers, for some odd reason, always seem to choose to tell themselves that bad story. Maybe it’s because it’s easier to see the bad and endorse it than it is to see the good and celebrate it. Eg. If someone says they’re having the best day ever then people are suspicious and want a reason. If someone says they’re having a bad day and don’t offer a concrete reason that we just accept it.
Interesting beasts, writers.
Or maybe it’s superstition? I know some people who don’t want to openly acknowledge when something is going well because it might jinx it. I know I fall pray to the knocking on wood superstition more often than not…
And yes, I think maybe the worry is a kind of self policing. If you’re worrying about it, that means that at the very least you’re aware of the potential for it to be happening. Although I spend too much time worrying, so I’d like to believe otherwise…. Will now have to think about this some more.
@Matt: I don’t think anything I said was ‘jumping all over’ Amy. Everyone needs a pep talk now and then, and her post was meant to help out a friend. Maybe I overstepped my bounds? I think Amy’s the one to make that call. But she’s encouraged honest feedback here.
Personally, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a living writer “characterized as brooding, drunk, angry, self-obsessed, narcissistic, etc.” Dead writers, especially famous ones, sure—and that’s because some of them WERE.
What I find—uncomfortable? frustrating?—is the assumption on some (but not nearly all) writers’ parts that they’re somehow special. Not only in the way of ‘saving lives’ Michelle mentions above, but just in the fact they’re writers. A successful writer recently posted on her blog about all the difficult things that are happening for writers right now–dishonored contracts, switching of royalty rates, e-books, etc.–and SO many people commented, bemoaning the unfairness and how they’re not appreciated etc etc etc. Like writers are the only ones experiencing doubt, fear and economic insecurity right now.
Yes, stories are important, and thus so are the writers who write them. But no more than running water and the guys toiling in the heat down my street to lay new pipes—who are probably facing increases in their portion of their health insurance premiums, or the city trying to revoke some of their benefits etc etc etc.
Nah, Jeff, we’re all good. No worries. I was a little surprised at a few of the reactions to this post, as it was meant as a pure shot of inspiration, but it’s actually been an interesting thought exercise for me.
But now I’ll go on to throw fuel on the fire. I do think I’m special. I think everyone is special (and I think most people think they are individually special because whether we like it or not, we often inhabit the center of our own small worlds). Writers certainly have their own ways of being special, and often those ways will even vary from writer to writer. Doesn’t mean every other person or profession isn’t special too. I could write just as eloquent an essay on how special teachers are, for example.
As for the mass complaining, you know how I’ve been feeling a bit sensitive to all the negativity I’m noticing lately? Well, it seems to be a phenomenon that touches everyone, not just writers. Man, the amount of complaining about Google+ makes me want to tear my hair out. But I’m trying really hard to be nice about it, or at least ignore it.
I worry that what you’re talking about falls a bit into the realm of problem comparing, though. Sure, writers are complaining. And in their own communities, they’re complaining loudly, probably mostly because they’re scared. Of course lots of people who aren’t writers are also having a terrible time. The writers having a terrible time doesn’t somehow take cred away from everyone else having a bad time too.
That being said, you know how I feel about writing being a business. At some point I think it’s important to stand on one’s own two feet and be accountable for one’s business. Sometimes that means making tough decisions and learning to (or at least trying to) adapt to changing business models. Saying “poor me” and grieving when things go wrong is fine, but then one has to move on to take more proactive steps.
Hey Jeff.
You’re right. No one ever said that you were jumping all over Amy. However, if you feel bad or guilty for your post and experiencing symptoms like reading words that were never written then an apology will probably remedy your condition faster than insisting you’re right.
It is possible that because you haven’t seen evidence of negative tropes of writers in current culture that you cannot confirm they exist – just as I’ve never been to Antarctica so I cannot confirm it exists. Incidentally, you should check out any of the 48 episodes of 4 seasons of “Californication”, watch the Academy award winning “Adaptation”, or “The Player” or “Capote”. Clearly, you haven’t seen them.
As for the rest of your post, I’m not sure how celebrating a given profession can be construed as a move to negate the work of all other professions. I’m sure that out on the internet somewhere there is a post about how great plumbers are. As a writer, it doesn’t bother me one bit. I love plumbers. They work hard. They contribute and help others. Modern Western civilization (and likely my life) wouldn’t exist without their often thankless implementation of advances in sanitation. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank any plumbers who are reading this post for all the hard work they do which is of no greater or lesser value than the work that I do.
Everyone complains, Jeff. For example, sometimes a person will read a blog post that was meant as a kind gesture and post anonymous comments so they can complain to strangers about how writers don’t deserve special recognition or treatment. I don’t fault that guy. He’s probably just having a bad day, frustrated about something in his life or trying to make his opinion heard.
But if we’re meant to listen to him, then surely we have to lend an ear to writers when they complaining about their station too.
Great post, Amy. And I definitely agree that it’s good to find a fairly even balance between pragmatic work ethic and romanticism. If you stop and think about the so-called cold hard facts of the business, it’s hard not to stir up a bit of self-doubt. Finding the romance in the craft, and the role of the writer in the greater world, is a key motivator for me to keep persevering despite the odds.
And: Badass picture of Batman, by the way.
I will admit to taking pleasure in picking pictures for the blog…especially when I get to pick ones involving Stormtroopers and caped avengers. 🙂
And yes, I find both aspects motivating. Sometimes it’s great to sit down and get stuff done and be really practical, and sometimes it helps to remember why I’m doing that work in the first place–because I think it matters.
Matt,
Not sure how anything I’ve written previously in this thread earns the snarkiness of your last post. Just making my points in what I think is a respectful manner. I don’t think I was rude or condescending to anyone. You should try it sometime.
Saw “Adaptation” and “Capote”. Loved them both. Didn’t feel they denigrated my attempts to be a writer. Also suspect the five people who saw the films could have cared less.
(Sorry, Amy, that this has suddenly devolved into a flame war. I’m opting out now, but will continue to read your blog as I thinks it’s insightful and helpful.)
Jeff P.
I suppose it was a poor assumption on my part to think you’d know I was joking. I truly am sorry to took it as an insult or personal attack. That was not my intent.
It is passive aggressive to personally call someone out in a post and then declare the conversation a flame war but maybe you thrive on dichotomy. I have to admit, this is the first time I’ve run into a writer complaining about writers while complaining about writers who complain.
If you do consider anything from this conversation besides your own point of view then let it be this:
Be like Amy. Foster hope, gratitude and optimism on the rare occasions when you are lucky, stupid, or talented enough to find these things and believe in them. Go out of your way to help fellow writers when they stumble. Not because you want their help, but because it’s the right thing to do.
If you choose to vilify the rare good you find in this business for the sake of demonstrating a superior, contrary point of view then, yes, you will feel smart for a moment. Maybe even for a long while. Your ego will enjoy it. Eventually, however, your cynicism will wear you to the bone like nothing else and your ego will leave you with high expectations that will never be met. And you can’t unpoison yourself once that has taken hold. You can’t go back to being bold and humble.
There are few writers who have the courage to fight to find joy in the grind of writing.
The world is teeming with writers who are consumed with their point of view, cynicism and being right.
The ones who endure are the former, not the latter.
This isn’t advice – this is fact.
I would comment on this awesome post, but I have to go find a telephone booth to change in…there’s a document calling for help!
Hooray! Now I’m trying to imagine your super hero editing costume. 🙂
I LOVE the idea that writers are superheroes because we fight the loss of wonder.
You are really knocking it out of the park with your blog, Amy!
Ah, I really like this–fighting the loss of wonder. Great way of putting it!
[…] in the fantasy genre. Another fun post worth a look is Amy Sundberg’s discussion of the reasons writers are like superheroes. Finally, Writing Excuses recently did a podcast about writing query […]
Writers enrich the soul. We’re supposed to bring feelings back into the world where people get stuck on the inside all the time. We’re supposed to bring them the smell of the flower, the coolness of mists, the heat of the sun shining on our faces. We’re supposed to show them both the ugliness of humanity and its strength to face adversity.
Got this from Writers’ Workshop in a Book though I heavily paraphrased.
Sounds like a great book! And I love these ideas.
One heck of a fine post and great varied responses/reactions to go back and read over….inspiring and enlightening written word has it’s place indeed….where would we be without it? I’m going to imagine my super hero as a porch swinging middle age retired teacher with sensitivity and a sense of humour telling/writing stories…..
You are a smart cookie! I enjoy your take on things.
Mmm, porch swinging. That sounds so pleasant–not so far off from the super hero I’d like to be myself. 🙂
[…] Writers are Super Heroes […]