Most people I know think of career paths as a series of jobs that ideally involve increasing levels of skills, responsibilities, pay, and status – something that’s applicable chiefly in terms of climbing the corporate ladder. But entrepreneurs and freelancers have career paths, too; they’re just a lot more complex and fluid than those in the everyday corporate world.
Few writers think in these terms, but an awful lot of them could benefit from doing so, if only as a way of navigating the choices that face them periodically during their writing careers. Otherwise, people can and do end up drifting in whatever direction luck takes them, which can end up making them a “successful” writer who is desperately unhappy because the particular kind of “success” they have isn’t what they want or need.
“Published professional writer” covers a lot of ground. When I was starting, I thought of myself as a fantasy writer, which to me meant adult genre novels. That’s still the career path I know best, even though I veered away from it at least twenty-five years ago. When people ask me how to become a YA author, I blink at them vaguely, because that’s not what I set out to do, so I have no idea how to do it on purpose. It happened accidently, on account of the choices I made given the opportunities I had, and it’s a good fit for me in terms of temperament and skills set, but a lot of writers aren’t so happy with where they’ve ended up.
The first step is at least being aware of what your ultimate goal is, and some of the different ways you might get there – bearing in mind that your ultimate goal can change as you learn more about writing, which parts of it you enjoy or hate, and what you really want from it. Practically any aspect of your writing can change, and any change will send you off in a different direction, which will affect not only where you end up, but the other choices you have on your way there.
Possibly the most common and most obvious change writers make is switching genres. There are, of course, plenty of writers who start and end writing in their genre of choice (mystery, Romance, SF/F, YA), but there are also quite a lot who start off writing one thing, then switch to a different one partway through their career. There are also writers who are productive enough (or stubborn enough) to write in multiple genres simultaneously (or at least rotate among them).
For some, this is part of a deliberate plan – I know several writers who set out to learn their craft by writing a type of fiction they didn’t much care about (pornography in one case; “sweet” Romances in another; and fantasy in a third, all of them under a pseudonym), intending to switch to their preferred genre once they knew what they were doing. This can work, or backfire; I know of one instance in which the pseudonymous work became so popular (and lucrative) that the author never did get to what they really wanted to write.
For a lot of others, this happens by accident. They started writing a personal memoir (nonfiction), and halfway through some elves showed up and it became a fantasy. Or they got so interested in the background of their historical novel that they ended up publishing a popular history or biography instead. Or the mystery writer gets talked into doing a short piece for a friend’s SF anthology, and discovers that they really like writing mystery/SF crossovers.
What you write isn’t the only thing that can change. Several writers I know have changed the name they write under for various reasons (for example, the author of a graphically violent mystery series who wanted to write a couple of YA novels, but didn’t want the younger audience to find his more adult fiction). At least one of these has told me that their writing style is different when they write under their pseudonym, which they find both interesting and a useful/desirable change of pace.
Writing full-time is a big change from writing part-time … and quite a few folks go back and forth several times, and not just because they’ve found it difficult to make a living writing or can’t deal with the irregular, fluctuating income of a freelancer (though that happens). Writing for publication can lead writers to teach, edit anthologies or magazines, or start one’s own small press, any of which can rapidly become a full-time “day job” for a previously full-time writer. Speaking engagements can take over enough time to count as a full-time job, if one works at it. And there are any number of other writing-related activities – ghost-writing, paid critiquing, writing screenplays, slush pile reading, work-for-hire, nonfiction – that can help pay the rent and/or increase one’s skills, but that will also occupy just as much time as a full-time day job, especially if one tries to do more than one of them at a time.
The Internet has expanded the number and direction of writing career paths. Writers can now self-publish straight to ebook, set up vlogs and blogs, write and produce their own video trailers, write and produce their own direct-to-YouTube videos. Kickstarter and Patreon provide new income models, especially for writers whose work aims at a niche market or isn’t commercial enough for traditional publishing.
Any of these things can be either fantastic opportunities or terrible distractions, career-building or career-destroying. Sometimes you know right away that this is (or is not) for you. Most of the time, it’s not really clear either way. If it sounds fun and interesting, it’s likely to be worth trying out, but it’s a good idea to at least think about how much time you’re committing to this thing, where this change/opportunity/whatever-it-is may take you if you pursue it aggressively, and whether you have an exit strategy if it doesn’t work out the way you hope.
“Published professional writer in multiple genres” sounds good to me (yes, that would be stubborn).
As for the rest, I don’t see myself ending up teaching or editing, and most of the “digital” options leave me cold. There will likely need to be some kind of side-line so I get out of the house and talk to someone other than the cats once in a while, though. Beyond that, I simply aim to be open to opportunities and clear about what they involve.
“Being open to opportunities and clear about what they involve” is what I’m advocating. I’ve seen rather a lot of people be presented with a fabulous opportunity that they couldn’t resist taking, which led to another and another and eventually there they were, teaching workshops or doing speaking gigs instead of writing, and having a terrible time getting back to what they want to do (writing) because they’re making too much from the other things. Although as I said, you really do want to try out some of those opportunities, because I also know people who swore when they started that they would never do X (teach, write for movies, etc.), but who were persuaded to do it “just this once” and discovered that they loved it and were good at it and are much happier doing mostly X with some writing on the side.
Yep. I’m fairly good at the “what they involve” part, but sometimes with too much emphasis on the down sides. Being open is more difficult for me, so I’ll need to keep an eye on that.
“Published professional writer” sounds exhausting to me, mostly because I keep hearing about the neverending work it takes to polish, publish, and promote, repeat ad nauseum. I currently have a short story out on its 6th submission (I’ve been told to be prepared for 20 or more) but everything else I’ve done has been self-published via lulu and/or smashwords, mostly for the benefit of family and friends. I clearly don’t have the temperament to do this as anything other than a hobby.
As a hobby, though, it’s pretty fun. 🙂
Do remember that many people enjoy at least some aspects of the promotion/publicity cycle, but you are not as likely to hear about tham in those terms. Writers who complain bitterly about having to do publicity tend not to think of the stuff they love doing (like, oh, writing a blog on writing, or going to their favorite conventions, or hanging out on Twitter) as “doing publicity.”
“that the author never did get to what they really wanted to write.”
You remind me of someone I knew slightly a very long time ago in New York. He wanted to write a novel, but decided that before doing so he first had to make a million dollars so that he could afford to retire and write. When I knew him he had, I believe, made his million, had not written and didn’t seem to be writing his novel. My guess is that he found making money a more satisfying activity than writing fiction.
Or the million dollars was an excuse. Lots of folks say they want to write, but they really are afraid to. Or he simply didn’t want to write badly enough.
Most likely of all, though, is that in the process of making his million, he adjusted his lifestyle to a higher income level, so that if he wants to live the way he’s gotten used to living, he’ll need $10 million in the bank. By the time he makes that, he’ll have adjusted upwards again, and so on. Many people are very bad at deferred gratification, especially when it really isn’t clear whether or not the thing they’re waiting for will be as gratifying as they hope.
Yeah. Same thing, of course, gets to writers who stick to writing potboilers for the money.