don't write a book (unless you have to)

and if you have to, I'm sorry and I get it

Sometimes, when I tell people I’m working on a book, they’ll say, “Oh, I’ve thought about doing that!” I know that they’re not seeking my advice or opinion on the question. They’re just making polite conversation! They want me to know that they think writing is cool, and they value it! This is a nice gesture that always makes me scream on the inside. Because really, really, I cannot stress this enough: if you think you want to write a book, you probably shouldn’t, if you value your time and sanity.

If you are a writer, this message is not for you. Being a writer isn’t measured in how much you’ve published or how many people have read your work or how big your advance is or a number of ratings on Amazon or Goodreads. You’re a writer if, whenever something big or hard or funny happens to you, you think, someday I’ll write about this. You’re a writer if you get itchy and irritable when you go too long without writing something. You’re a writer if playing with words is simultaneously both the most delightful thing you can imagine and the hardest, most painful slog. If that’s you, I regret to say, you may have to write a book at some point. I’m so sorry.

But if writing a book just seems like the kind of thing you could or should do, like a fun project, like something that would be cool to cross off your bucket list — I’m begging you to reconsider. Because writing a book will break your heart.

Obviously I’m not actually telling people not to write books. Go for it! Follow your dreams! I love reading books, and I want there to be more of them. I do recommend that you seek a strong, supportive community of other writers to help if things get hard. And by “if,” I mean “when.” But maybe approaching writing a book as a fun cool project is actually the secret to having a healthy, manageable relationship with it, and none of what I’m about to write will apply to you. If so, I love that for you, truly.

For many of us, though, on any imaginable scale, the ROI for writing a book is LOL. I mean that financially, of course — even if you get a six-figure advance, it’s hard to imagine that when you add up the hours put in that you’ll end up at minimum wage. But the financial part, while seriously important (especially in this economy), might be the least significant element here. I don’t know if anyone really gets into writing books because they think it’ll lead to fat sacks of cash money.

But the calculus looks even worse when you look at how much of your heart and soul gets poured into a book. The amount of drive and passion it takes to produce one and shepherd it through the publication process is monumental. And, in my experience, it seems like writing a book that will really move people and touch them requires so much soul-searching, introspection, painful honesty, and bone-deep empathy that it leaves you feeling scraped raw and wondering whether the whole world can see that you’re covered with dripping emotional wounds.

Laocoon’s kid really gets it. Photo by Victoria Landavazo on Unsplash

And that’s the fun part! I’m not even kidding. Writing a book is so painful and difficult, and it’s also the most joyful element of the whole process. When you’re in the weeds of literally any other part of the book process — the promotion, the hustle, the long waiting periods — you’ll find yourself thinking, I wish I’d enjoyed the writing part more when I was in it, because it was so much better than this.

Have you ever wondered why there are so many pieces of art about making art? It’s because making art is so traumatic and difficult that the only way we can process it is by making more. It’s a psychic pyramid scheme. And also kind of an actual pyramid scheme, because the economics of it are so bad that the only way to make a living writing is to teach classes and bring more writers into the fold.

There are things you can do to make it easier to write a book. I cannot recommend the following enough: sleep, exercise, therapy, sharing snarky thoughts with your group chat, petting a dog. The community part also really is key, which is why I’m writing this here, desperately hoping someone reads it and it makes them feel seen (and then maybe leaves a comment that makes me feel heard).

If you are writing a book, and the process feels like coughing up phlegmy globs of your soul, I feel you. I won’t tell you not to write it, because we both know that would be pointless. People have told me versions of that many times, but you can’t tell someone, “Hey, have you considered not coughing?” Thanks so much! What actionable advice!

So I’m sending you love and sympathy and the emotional equivalent of buckwheat tea with a touch of honey. I can’t wait to read your words. Knowing how hard they were to write just makes the gift of them that much more precious.