From what I can tell, there are two primary schools of thought on writing: writing as vocation and writing as craft. The Vocation-ists see writing as an unteachable art, an unstoppable force that consumes the writer. Writers talking earnestly about their Muse, characters who talk to them and stories that “write themselves” are, more often than not, Vocation-ists. Inspiration rules.
The Crafters see writing as a teachable skill, a practice in which careful study of other works can teach a writer how to write his or her own. Writers talking about getting your butt in the writing seat no matter what, writing “exercises” to sharpen dialogue or strengthen plot formation, or selling “writing coaching” are probably Crafters. Diligence and perseverance are their keywords.
This would all be perfectly well and good if the two camps could just say, “Well, what works for you doesn’t work for me, but you go ahead and rock out doing your thing and I’ll rock out doing mine.” Unfortunately, this is the Internet, and what tends to happen more often is you get people suggesting that there is a fundamental difference between Writers and People Who Write.
There is no difference between Writers and People Who Write, unless by People Who Write you mean People Who Send Postcards Sometimes And Jot Down Phone Numbers And Grocery Lists. There are certainly thoughtful and thoughtless writers, even good and bad writers. But to draw a distinction between Writers (read, “real” writers) and People Who Write is to reinforce a kind of exclusivity and snobbishness about what it is to be a writer.
The snobbishness goes both ways, by the way. Vocation-ists sneer at the word monkeys churning out lifeless prose, expecting something as chimerical and unpredictable as a good story to trot out patiently because you’re knocking words together. In their mess of outlines, they wouldn’t trust a good, spontaneous inspiration if it bit them. Crafters roll their eyes right back at the Inspiration Fairies who won’t touch the keyboard unless the sky is pink and the writing desk is sprinkled in pixie dust. When they do get an idea, they start wailing about characters not doing what they want them to, as if the y, the authors, are not the ones writing the damn thing in the first place.
The problem is that, in either case, the snobs are looking only at the writers on the other side doing the bad writing. Vocation-ists are ignoring Margaret Atwood, Terry Pratchett, Ray Bradbury, and countless others who write phenomenal, imaginative work by getting their butts in their chairs every day. Crafters are ignoring Lewis Carroll or Frank L. Baum, whose literature began as a whim to amuse children, or James Joyce, who definitely didn’t learn by stacking up what came before, but rode his own crazy muse.
The other problem is that if you read too much into writing as craft or writing as vocation, you’ll start to believe that false dichotomy. Writers don’t have to be one or the other. I’m a believer in striving for a daily writing habit, regardless of inspiration. I believe exercises are helpful and shitty first drafts are inescapable, except for a select few who have been writing for so long and have it so much under their skin that even first drafts are (at least to the rest of us) pretty good. I’m also a believer that there’s more to writing than studying successful writers and copying what they do. Sometimes if I don’t write for a couple days I get antsy and irritable, and writing a story soothes a side of me that has nothing to do with diligence and box-checking. I don’t always review my blog posts before I hit “Submit,” but I put thought into what I write, and I always revise my stories and poetry before anyone else sees them. I don’t fit neatly into either extreme camp when it comes to writing, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to dismiss me as just a “person who writes” because I’m not inspired or disciplined or professional enough.
As far as I’m concerned, a writer is someone who writes, and who cares about what he or she is writing. It’s that simple.
Jessica Jonas 
writers who actually have a full time (well paid) job as a writer are few.
As for the argument between the writers who are inspired and those who feel writing is a craft is similar to an argument as to whether successful cooks “wing it” or follow recipes.
No one wings it. Even that brilliant person who sits down and whips off a first draft masterpiece (not likely to meet one of those in your lifetime) has a plan. She might not have written it down, but it exists.
In my experience, which is limited I admit, is that without a full plot plan from beginning to end, there’s a writer’s block waiting around some nearby chapter.
I’m a little embarrassed to admit that some of the blog posts I’ve found most inspiring were the ones by writers I love who were banging their heads against the wall over a story. If even they hate what they’re writing sometimes, then I can’t be too far lost.
The cooking metaphor is a good one. You may find a cook who can whip something up sans recipe, but it’s probably because they have years of memorizing the ratios of butter:flour:sugar:salt, and of learning which flavors are glorious together and which are disasters. The recipe is there on some level, just as writers who know what they’re doing know it because of years of reading and writing until the flow of it gets under their skin.
Thanks for reading, by the way! I’m glad you found me.
I’m not also extreme when it comes to writing as a vocation-ist or craft-ist (any word like that?)
But, I beg to say this:
A vocation-ist fares well more than a craft-ist simply because I feel most vocational writers were born with the gift of writing.
Got a ‘thumbs down’ on this?
I think it comes down to whether you feel writing is a gift you’re born with or a skill you learn. I’m willing to believe that some level of creativity may be inherent, but my inclination is to think that the expression a person’s creativity takes depends on his or her environment. Story-lovers write, doodlers make better and better visual art, kinetic kids dance, etc.
Really good post.
A few years back, I started taking piano for the first time — I’d never learned to read music or anything — and it’s been wonderful. I’ve learned music theory and composition and have a reasonable repertoire, but the other day my teacher discussed my “musicianship”. I certainly never thought about myself as a musician, but at some level I am. I know that I will never earn my living at it, and that there are millions of people in the world that are better at it than I am, but it gives me pleasure and sometimes I produce something beautiful.
From what I hear, there’s often a bit of lag time between learning to do something artistic and embracing the title of musician, artist, writer, etc. Glad you’re making music–one of the best moments in any art is when you realize you’ve produced something beautiful.