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29 May 2012 by in Dale Challener Roe | 5 comments

When Am I No Longer a Writer?

For the last few months I have struggled—mightily—to write. This is nothing new for me. In fact for several years now writing has been a chore. But, aside from the last six months, it has always seemed to be a problem of time. In the rare instances where I could carve out a block of time, I still has a good chance I would be rewarded with a passionate flood of words and images. At least once every three or four weeks I was still able to hear my pulse in my ears as I tried to type as fast as my brain was willing to ramble on.

But in the last six months, these periods of productivity—that seems such a cold word for an act that is both joyous and manic—have been completely absent. During this time writing has been totally joyless.

I have been written during this lull. I’ve managed to scrape together a listless, tedious Christmas story that while meant to be funny, doesn’t even manage a few sarcastic eye-rolls. And at least every other day I pull out one of three different stories that either need rewrites, editing, or finishing. But I make no progress.

So, I’ve started to ponder the questions that we all ask ourselves from time to time:

Am I a writer?

I’ve deluded myself into believing I’m anything other than a hobby writer. Before I had kids I was able to write much more often. Once I had kids, my output fell to the point where I was just scraping out short stories. This never bothered me. I never needed to think I would be a bestselling author, or write The Great American Novel. I’ve always been more enamored with writing what I’m interested in writing. Although I don’t think it’s a prerequisite to call myself a writer, I have had a few short stories published. And I have a moderate stack of rejection letters from publishing houses and contests—which I do consider a prerequisite. If someone were to ask me if I’m a writer I would answer yes but I’d specify that I’m a hobby writer. I don’t think that diminishes me. If writing were to turn into a career, I certainly wouldn’t mind, or turn it down, but unless something drastically changes, work and writing will remain separate.

So, yes, I am a writer.

Do I really want to keep writing?

I’m a collector of hobbies. I’ve tried too many, over the years, to accurately count. I’ve been an avid archer, paintball player, competition target shooter and disc-golfer. I’ve tried my hand at printmaking, drawing, painting, photography, and clay sculpting. I’ve taken lessons with the clarinet, piano, trumpet, guitar, bagpipes and drums, and have taught myself—to some degree—harmonica and the theremin. And for some time I’ve been an active amateur astronomer and herald.

People have told me that I’m ADD when it comes to hobbies. But the truth is that simply love learning. When the learning curve levels out, I start to lose interest. The hobbies that have been the most interesting, for the longest period of time, have been the ones with the most to learn.

So…have I learned all there is to learn as a writer? Not even close. I still can’t use all the senses to set a scene. I still have trouble with plot-driven stories. I still have tons of trouble editing my own work. So that’s not the issue.

So, then…am I still enjoying it?

Right now, no, I’m not. Writing is nothing but commitments, chores and frustration. But is it fair to judge something I’ve enjoyed for two decades, on the last six months? Six months where I’ve been ill, underemployed, just scraping by, and under tons of stress. It doesn’t seem like it would be such a bad idea to take a step back for a few months, but I’ve had friends stop painting for “just a little while” and never pick up a brush again. But then again if writing is gone from my mind, it seems silly to keep making myself write simply because I once fancied myself a writer.

So this is the question I’m having trouble answering. Do I really want to keep writing?

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Dale is a multiple Nobel Prize laureate who shot to fame after inspiration for his Grand Unified Theory of Everything came to him one evening over a bowl of Ramen. His groundbreaking series of exposes on black market punctuation have been largely credited by world leaders as the catalyst for the current unprecedented era of peace. And he became the darling of the geek world when, upon his first visit to the Arecibo radio telescope, he was able to decipher the first message from an alien world (“Sorry to hear about Douglas Adams”). He also dabbles in fiction. He lives in North Carolina with his mischievous collection of four-legged friends and can occasionally be found online at DCRoe.com and WhereIsMyTowel.com.

5 Responses to “When Am I No Longer a Writer?”

  1. Dane Zeller says:
    May 29, 2012 at 12:45 pm

    Dale, Dale, Dale. No one’s writing anymore. We’re all on the internet pimping what we’ve already written. You simply have to lower your standards for productivity.

  2. Annie says:
    May 29, 2012 at 2:50 pm

    ba ha haha Dane.. so true!!

  3. Storm Dweller says:
    May 29, 2012 at 4:06 pm

    Dane just blew whatever empathetic and encouraging sentiment I had to offer right out of the water. KABLAAAAMMMMM!

  4. Dane Zeller says:
    May 30, 2012 at 2:19 am

    I’m sorry, I gave my password to my evil twin brother, the salesman. Right now I’m restraining him from my keyboard. He wants to know if you want to buy my book.

  5. Jacqui Murray says:
    Jun 2, 2012 at 6:09 pm

    Dale, I can answer that question: Yes. You are a writer. You may not like it. You may try to run from it, but it’s inside of you like a cancer. It’s about your voice. It’s unique, fascinating, entrancing at times. It makes us readers want to see what you have to say.

    Maybe your worry is more about WHAT you’re writing–the topic.

    Dunno. All I know is it’s NOT skill or passion. Those are there.

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