Beliefs are persistent, sticky things. Take the notion of the lonely writer, herding words in solitude, lit by the holy glow of the computer screen, in search of some punchy dialogue and a well-turned sentence. Ernest Hemingway once claimed: “writing, at its best, is a lonely business.” John Steinbeck turned it up a notch: “In utter loneliness a writer tries to explain the inexplicable.” There’s probably a niche market for literary bumper stickers on the topic: ‘Writers Do It Alone’, ‘Keep Your Distance – Author on Board’, ‘My Other Car’s A Garret!’.
I’ve thought a lot about writing and isolation over the last few months as I negotiate a creative lull between one project and another (more on that whole shebang in another article). And I’ve come to the conclusion that writing is, by necessity, a solitary, isolating business, is, in fact, crap. I’m with Flannery O’Connor on this one. She called the myth of the lonely writer ‘particularly pernicious and untruthful’.
I know from hard experience how the notion can seduce you down a dead end. A dozen years ago, while still a dabbler at the fringes of ‘proper writing’, I wrote a book, of sorts. It was a a frankenstein’s monster of a thing, a creative non-fiction novella, some weird hybrid between a short story triptych and a travelogue. It had grand themes, passages of lyrical description, a certain melancholy humour. It had the shape and direction of a book. But what it lacked, utterly, was the input of another person. Not during the making of the first draft, or during the attempts to turn that draft into a coherent manuscript.
My wife was supportive – but she’s not a reader. No other writers read it because, well, I didn’t know any at the time (working class writers don’t have published novelist on tap). I didn’t have the confidence or gall to ask friends to read it. I couldn’t afford an editor. Instead, I bought wholeheartedly into the narrative of the lonely writer, sequestered and struggling to create.
When I reached a point where I had to send it out into the world, it was still unread by anyone else. Half a dozen agents were contacted, three asked for the full manuscript. One held onto it for more a year. Emails were exchanged, vague promises made, then silence. A few more months went by until they sent me an unsigned standard rejection letter.
Unsurprisingly, the whole experience was brutal. From the struggle to write and edit it alone, through writing a synopsis (worse than creating the book itself) and then the extended submissions process. Maybe, if I had persevered, someone might have been willing to work on it with me (though quirky, travel-based novella hybrids by unknown authors aren’t exactly a hotspot for editorial resources). Unfortunately, older, wiser, writer me wasn’t around to advise myself at the time. I decided the whole lonely writing business was a shit gig and gave up.
Cut to two years later. I heard about an online writing course and decided it was my last chance to give writing a serious thrash. The course was a place where craft was emphasised, where feedback was hard but constructive, and daily writing was encouraged. But it wasn’t just this disciplined approach that was important. For the first time ever, I was interacting with other writers.
My work began to develop, though success came hand-in-hand with abundant rejections from magazines and competitions. But that was okay too, because I had people around who understood the pain. I had peers who could suggest new places to try, or ways I could improve my work. The process of writing was still done alone, but that wasn’t the only part of being a writer.
As my career has moved on, I tried to carry this sense of community on with varying degrees of success. When coronavirus hit and lockdown happened, the writing community found ways to innovate around isolation. What emerged was a spirit of generosity. I saw offers of free mentoring support, discounts for online courses, literary festivals went digital, recordings of events were made accessible for free. There were initiatives to create online spaces where writers could work, virtually, alongside others. There was connection everywhere.
Maybe the truth is we all should have been doing this anyway. By recognising and harnessing that sense of community and innovation, we might be able to dispel the lonely writer myth once and for all. So, here I am, hoping Substack might be the place where, in some small way, I can help create a place for writers that fosters a sense of support and community. One that gives equal opportunity to all, so that nobody, whatever their origin or class status, will feel that they have to work unsupported and in isolation.
Maybe it’s time for a new version of the literary bumper sticker: ‘Writers Do It Better Together’.
So what am I going to be doing here? As you probably gathered by now, part of me wants to create a community because this writing life is so much better in the company of others. And because I think I have some ideas that will help you write better, including how being playful is a way to tap into your best creativity.
But part of me also wants to have a space for some brutal screaming into the void honesty about the struggle of writing, the pain of rejection, prejudice against working class writers, and the godawful drudgery of putting one word in front of another, or editing something for the umpteenth time.
That’s a fun mix, right? In addition to ‘thinky’ pieces about aspects of writing and creativity, I will share some ideas gleaned from 10 years as a writer, including:
Thoughts, guidance and advice on writing craft, well-being, creativity
musings on success, failure, rejection and persistence.
Some left-field and innovative ideas on flash fiction (very short prose stories) can really sharpen up your writing.
Some recommended reads and articles on how being a better reader makes you a much better writer.
I’ll also be creating paid for content, including fun writing exercises, prompts, ‘read like a writer’ discussions of short fiction, and lots of other stuff I haven’t even thought of yet! I will also be providing regular useful information and support for working class writers like me!
Look out as well for articles by guest writers and special offers such as writing sessions, workshops and more. And look, I’ve left you a free writing prompt below - that’s worth a sign-up, right?
I enjoyed this read. Thank you Ken. It spoke to the struggle I am feeling right now. The "Where do I go from here" kind of struggle. I am looking forward to commuicating with this community. Greg.
Great to see you here, Ken! I’m in. Looking forward to reading your posts and hanging out on Substack with you 😊