Scientists Prove Writers Suck at Business

Timing is Everything

*****

"Please. I have been most anxious to meet you. My dear friend Ricci so rarely recommends someone to me. He implied that I might have acquired something,” and he waved his hand in a mysterious sigil, “perhaps something in my many years of collecting that might be helpful to your... situation.”

Mr. Chirac seemed to study her. He took in her sleek black hair, silver hoop earrings, and her eyelids pasteled a hard blue. His dark, attentive eyes took in the fine lines of her neck, the sheen of perspiration in the hollow of her throat, and noted the way that her breasts pulled tight the fabric of her shirt. He nodded unconscious approval as he discreetly followed the inward curve of her waist, the outward flare of her hips, and then looked down to stare at her feet.

He did not look up for what seemed like a decidedly long moment.

“I had to take my shoes off,” said Lily. “It’s dirty at work. We have to wear steel-toes. Usually we end up stepping in grease. Ricci told me to take off my shoes.”

“Then I shall as well,” offered Mr. Chirac with a brilliant smile, and he did it right then, sliding his stocking feet out of a pair of patent leather shoes Lily thought were worth more than all of the furniture in her apartment added up and sold at an auction.

Despite the mild temperature, Lily felt herself beginning to feel uncomfortably warm.

“You’ve got a nice place here,” she blurted.

He stepped across the room to stand directly in front of her. He smelled of crushed chamomile and impending storms. With his shoes off, he was yet a half a foot taller than her. With him standing so near, she had to look up to see his eyes, which were as shiny as fresh black paint.

“You grace it with your beauty,” he said in a voice low, menacing and so seductive that she felt slightly dizzy.

“Can I sit down?” asked Lily.

“Come with me,” said Mr. Chirac as he slid his arm behind her and held it against the small of her back.

He walked her to a couch draped in green and gold imbued with such vibrant depth of color she thought it more a work of art than furniture.

“Sit, please” said Mr. Chirac.

“My clothes… I just came here from work.”

“Think only of the moment, LIly,” he said, and moved in so close that she almost fell back onto the embroidered divan.

“I’ll sit now,” she said in a strangled voice.

excerpted from "Knob Day," by Ferrel D. Moore

*****

Mention goal selection, thorough planning, and detailed implementation schedules to writers and you're going to get a lot of evasion, eye rolling, hiding behind couches, and "I'll be right back, just you wait there."

Don't believe them- they'll never be back. Writers don't like do plan. Writers hate to be told what to do. And we won't eat our broccoli neither.

Unnsuccessful writers rarely plan. Why, that could be too business-like. It could, perphaps, dull their creative plan. The write when they feel like it. "When the mood strikes me," is a common way for this lethargically chaotic approach to productive creation.

To our left is a typical member of a writers group being adored by his fans and fellow writers. One laptop is a all that's necessary for this ensemble, because, being good-natured, they tend to monkey around a bit and not plan their work. As free spirits, they believe that it is more important to follow the animalistic creative flow than to allow a hint of structure to intrude on their creative efforts.

Jim Denny, in his delightful book "Quit Your Day Job!: How to Sleep Late, Do What You Enjoy and Make a Ton of Money as a Writer ," has this to say about writers and planning:


"Before launching your freelance career, write a business plan. It doesn't have to be lengthy or involved, but you must have a business plan from the get-go. A business plan is a roadmap to your goals. A written plan will give you a clear sense of how to get where you want to go in your writing career. Keep your plan flexible, and revise it on a regular basis—say, every six months. Your business plan should evolve as conditions change and your career grows.

You might well object, 'I don't write business plans! I write novels, stories, plays! Business is boring! I care about ideas, characters, and imagination—not marketing, cash flow, and pro-forma income projections!' I understand. In fact, I fully empathize. But I have a two-part response to that:

First, as a fulltime working writer, you are now a businessperson—like it or not. Writing is your vocation, not your avocation, so you've got to approach it seriously and professionally. And that means you must plan."

Before you run screaming to another writing blog that won't chide you to take some time and plan your writing career, consider the second point Jim makes:

"Second, planning isn't boring, it's fun and fascinating if you do it right. When you write a business plan, you envision your future on paper—and what could possibly be more exciting than anticipating and planning your future?"

Jim's right about the excitement if the writer in question not only wants to succeed, but is willing to work to achieve the goal. But the problem is that most writers, believe it or not, don't know how to write a business plan, so they stall before they start. Why can't they write a business plan? Glad you asked. There are at least two answers (certainly there are more, but we'll stick with two prominent difficulties for this post). The first is that some writers don't know what a business plan is except in a general sense. The second, and more prevalent, is that most writers don't feel like it.


Does this sound a little harsh? Actually, I'm being mild.





Most writers don't even keep an up-to-date record of their expenses using a small business accounting program. They'd like to make some money some day somehow, and until they make real money, why should they go to all that bother? Maybe because the IRS considers all income potentially taxable? Maybe because they could actually save some money? Maybe because it would force them into some business like habits?


For those writers too intimidated to purchase books on what business plans are and how to write them, Jim says that we should concentrate an honest evaluation of what we really accomplish with our writing. If we'd like to make some money from our works, he asks that we address these five points:


1. Decide what you will be writing. Although this sounds simple enough, remember that many writers drift between short stories, novels, screenplays and genres hoping to find a spark. Imagine if you left for vacation without deciding where you were going. What are the chances you'd end up where you want to be? I've had the advice many times to write what I want to read, and I think it's a pretty good place to start in the process of making a decision. No one expects you to know the final answer on day one, but after the first year or so, any writer should be able to answer this question.


2. Decide how you will market yourself. Will you use an agent? Will you start with short stories to build some name recognition then head to novels? Will you network through conventions and writing workshops? Or will you begin by self-publishing (a tough way to go, but doable for some).


3. Decide how you will fund your writing career. Do you have money set aside to cover the time that you could be doing something else that would pay you back sooner (such as, for example, a second job). This is the question you need to handle by preparing a budget for your writing- specifically, for expense and revenue projections. Before you whine about this, remember that every small business owner eventually has to hunker down and do this. The hours that you plan to spend on creating your short stories, novels, articles and nonfiction books should be planned and longed. Do you have any idea of how many hours you spend writing? Do you log them? If you don't why on earth not. Wouldn't it be worth knowing if you spend 700 hours per year writing but only make $600?



You might argue that you're writing because you love the craft, but remember if you do so, you're a hobbyist, not a professional writer. If you're trying to work up to being a professional writer, don't act like a financial illiterate and not keep records. Writers should log their hours if only to keep the effort they're expending in perspective. Most businesses run three years in the red after startup. You don't have to be successful immediately, but eventually it helps to get a handle on what you get out of the hours you put into your writing enterprise. Somewhere along the way, you might consider why so many published writers work day jobs. Several have told me that they can't afford to lose their health insurance.




The point of this all, is of course, is that you need to create a business budget. Houses built on shifting sand and all that. And, of course, don't plan on quitting your day job until you've made enough to pay your bills and have some let over to eat on.


4. Recognize what risks does your writing business face—and how will you insure against them? Most writers I know say, "What risk? There's no cost to writing except paper and stamps." Well... no. In the Valley of the Blind, if you'll remember, the blind people bumped into a lot of things and hurt themselves. Although there are many single writers and wannabe writers, many writers have significant others and/or families. The time they spend on writing sometimes can take them away from other responsibilities if they get more wrapped up in writing than in the overall context of things. Many writers argue that they are spending very little money on their writing, but by doing so, these writers fail to realize that their time is worth money. In today's economy it's easy to forget that financial disasters can come without warning and we have to have enough set aside as writers to cover the unexpected. One writer and publisher I know lives in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. You might remember it as the town on television that was underwater not so long ago.



5. What are your goals as a writer? You should have clear, well-defined goals for your writing career, segmented by timeframe. They should be ambitious, but achievable and realistic (realistic goals encourage you to reach for success; unrealistic goals set you up for failure and discouragement). Here are some examples:

Every month . . . . Produce one book proposal and three queries.
In six months . . . Save enough to quit day job and write fulltime.
In one year . . . . . Earn $25,000/year from writing. Complete first draft of novel.
In three years . . . Earn $50,000 per year from writing. Concentrate on fiction.
In five years . . . . Write bestseller, sell movie rights, move to Tahiti.


It's an ambitious plan that only a small percentage of writers ever achieve. The last study I read indicated that the average salary of writers was only $5,000 per year. That's shooting kind of low, don't you think. Maybe incorporating a few business fundamentals into our work such as drafting our own business plan might get us on track to making a bit more money.

It's Good to Plan Ahead