Don't call me a hack
One of the common epithets people throw at a writer they don't like is "hack." That's "a writer who exploits his or her ability primiarily for money." As if producing a product of art with commercial potential is wrong. Well, here's the thing, I'm a hack.
Not because I'm in this for the money. I've got a job, and I'm happy to stay working at that job even after my books start to sell. Where else can I do experiments and make a difference in patient's lives and get paid for it? But even though writing isn't my primary source of income, I'm still a hack. Because I write stuff that I think a lot of people will want to read.What I love when I look at a finished manuscript, that four inch high stack of loose paper, is to tell myself that I've created a thing of some value. This is a stack of papers that will put food on the table of some editor, some copyeditor, some printing press guy, an artist and a cover designer, so on. OK, not much food, yet. A biscuit, a chicken leg. It's something.
I also like to look at that stack and think of a traveller getting on an airplane. A book is just the thing you need on a plane trip. When they tell you to turn off your electronic devices, and you see the panic in people's eyes, what am I going to do for the next ten minutes, pick up a book why don't you? It's perfect. You can lose yourself in my book until you land in San Francisco. I made that happen. I got you through that flight, or jury duty, or a day at the beach. That's a great feeling.
I've also put money in my own hands, which I use to fly to science fiction conventions, where I meet fans who buy books, and I meet writers and booksellers. And I spend some of that money on more books that I read on the flight home.
I think up ideas and string together words and create things that are useful and make money. There is no shame in that. You might have need someday of an epithet you can hurl my way. Don't bother calling me a hack, though. It won't bother me at all.
I get the same feeling. It's a little bit like being a craftsman. It's not a chair, or a pair of shoes, but it's this thing that I made and I give it to you and you enjoy it. It's a very satisfying feeling.
And if people are writing things that are intentionally obscure and intended to only impress, say, other writers? I don't worry what those people think.
You said it, Matt. One man's hack is another man's crack. Or something like that.
Did I say that? I wasn't out to become another man's crack.
Nicely said. I've come to look at myself primarily as an entertainer, and if a reader is able to derive at least some small amount of enjoyment from something I've written, I figure I've done my job.
I'm glad to see there are so many other hacks out there. We should start a support group. Or a union. Can we at least get matching bowling shirts?
Hell, we could be a *movement*...
Nah, scratch that. But bowling shirts would be cool...
Oh, no, not a movement. Please. Anyone writes the "hack manifesto" and I'm going after him with a tire iron.
One quote I like to use, when I hear people say, "Stephen King/Dan Brown/JK Rowling is a hack," is, "Sure they are. Oh Lord, please make me such a hack."
Or at least give me the satisfaction and bank account of such a hack. How cool is it that you've brought satisfaction and enjoyment to millions?
I'm an engineer, so my "job satisfaction" is a bit more obscure. When you call someplace for service (or send an e:mail, or ask for a web-chat), there's a small chance you'll be conducting your business on a system that I designed. Upside: I helped design some of the emergency systems that supported Hurricane Katrina relief efforts. Downside: I helped design proactive dialers so that an annoying poll-taker can interrupt your dinner. I suppose you have to take the good with the bad.
But I don't see the downside in being a published, professional writer. What am I missing? Oh, yes - the snob factor. Silly me.