In the literary fiction world especially, it’s often taken as an article of faith that writing is an intrinsically important activity to be engaged in. So when writer David Mizner (@DavidMizner) challenged this view at a writing workshop, he was taken to task for it:
When I was twenty-nine, shortly after I started writing fiction, I went to a two-day workshop. The first night, a group of writers—including an accomplished or at least published novelist (I forget who it was; I’m not choosing not to name him)—were sitting around talking about the “writing life.” Loose after a few drinks, I asked them if they ever questioned the value of writing fiction. “It feels indulgent,” I said. There was an awkward silence, as if I’d said something borderline racist or taken off my pants. Finally, the published author suggested that I might not have the stuff to be a fiction writer.
Mizner goes on to discuss his ambivalence about fiction writing, which is partly tied to fiction possibly being less relevant and powerful in today’s culture. Read the full piece over at Glimmer Train’s site.
Also at Glimmer Train this month:
- Building a Collection by Christine Grace
- Bob Shacochis interview
- Why Write Characters of Color? by Lillian Li
Jane Friedman has spent nearly 25 years working in the book publishing industry, with a focus on author education and trend reporting. She is the editor of The Hot Sheet, the essential publishing industry newsletter for authors, and was named Publishing Commentator of the Year by Digital Book World in 2023. Her latest book is The Business of Being a Writer (University of Chicago Press), which received a starred review from Library Journal. In addition to serving on grant panels for the National Endowment for the Arts and the Creative Work Fund, she works with organizations such as The Authors Guild to bring transparency to the business of publishing.
[…] In the literary fiction world, it's often taken as an article of faith that writing is an intrinsically important activity to be engaged in. Is it? […]
I will say, when I first started writing seriously, I kept it to myself. As a family that was struggling financially, self-indulgent is exactly how writing felt.
Perhaps it’s indulgent but if so I wonder why we indulge in something so tough. I have a PhD but that was nothing like as tough as writing a novel, perhaps because I knew from the start where I was going with the research (into power and trust)and it’s a very structured process. Opposite of creative writing (my messy way anyway) and I had to unlearn the ways of writing research. So, no, I don’t think it’s indulgent. And what sort of life would it be without all these wonderful books. Sandy
I was listening to Elizabeth Gilbert’s Magic Lessons (there are only 12 episodes) yesterday and she was interviewing Brené Brown. Brené discussed how inspiration and creativity are the work of the soul and the consequence to not follow that inspiration is costly. Inspiration promises nothing. Whether we are inspired to write fiction, nonfiction, literary or genre novels, the act of creation is the call of the soul and we need to heed it. I don’t consider my secretive fiction writing or my blogging indulgent. Was it indulgent of David Mizner to write that blog post? Nothing about inspiration is indulgent. It’s our calling. The act of creation is the reward.
Mizner closes with, “My semi-educated guess is that there are indeed openings for ambitious, explicitly political novels. We need them. So write one, would you?”
I don’t read a lot of explicitly political novels, but I do know at least one person writing them (Barry Eisler, and I only know this because I recently interviewed him).
As for the value of fiction beyond a person’s artistic need to create it, Mizner is probably right that we don’t have a modern-day Uncle Tom’s Cabin or The Jungle, but that might be for the same reason we don’t have a modern-day Citizen Kane or Ben Hur – oversaturation. Maybe there’s not a spot, these days, for the Big Work that’ll change the world, but if what Mizner writes at his Glimmer Train blog holds true for most readers (“In my optimistic moments, I’m able to believe that fiction makes people more empathetic and compassionate, better.”), isn’t that good enough? As a reporter, I once interviewed a local deacon who said anyone who wonders, “Why should I bother trying to change things? I’m just one person; my voice doesn’t matter” is guilty of supreme arrogance. Why should their voice be the voice everyone hears? Why should they think they alone can change the world? It’s the quiet, consistent voices that matter, he said (and I’m paraphrasing heavily – this was years ago). Every minor step in the right direction is a valuable step. If even one person becomes more empathetic after reading a novel, that’s pretty good work done, isn’t it?
Writing is like creating your own little universe where you are god. Whether or not that’s indulgent depends on the mission behind it. I don’t think indulgent is bad though. Unless you keep it all to yourself.