The Misquote That Made a Writer
I remember reading, rather believing I’d read, that Gore Vidal was once asked how to become a writer, and his reply was two words— “writers write.” He wasn’t asked how to become a famous writer, a professional writer, or even a published writer. Merely a writer. Thus, I must write to be a writer. As simple and hard as that. And I’ve been living the maxim that writers write.
I discovered much later that Vidal never said those exact words. But he lived them, writing over twenty-five novels, eight plays, fourteen screenplays, and more than two hundred essays.
Yet my belief that he did say those two words has shaped my behavior for decades. A misquote that had led me to publish a novel, numerous short stories, and dozens of essays and blog posts.
BSFW Daily Writing Challenge
To prove to myself I was the kind of writer who could not only finish the fantasy duology I’ve been lugging around on paper and in my mind for the past several years, but also the series that seems to be lurking behind all these characters and stories, I grabbed the chance to join in the 2024 BSFW Daily Writing Challenge. I rely on the Brooklyn Speculative Fiction Writers (BSFW) for eyes, ideas, and frankly, motivation. I saw this as a public way to show I was doing the writing I must to be a writer. Because it was public. It would keep me honest, adding a subtle bit of shame to fend off any temptation to skate on writing “just for today”.
It was January 11 when I first saw the link to the 2024 BSFW Daily Writing Challenge. Seven people had started sooner. Including someone who already had a 17,241-word head start on me, with a chain of 10 consecutive days of writing, and had racked up 89 points. Hell of a head start. But I told myself, this wasn’t a competition. Not really. Only a challenge. To myself.
That day, I logged 573 words, got my first 2 points, and started my chain with 1 day. Now, I had only to write at least 250 words the next day and the day after. For the remainder of the year. That’s only one page. Just one.
Not Breaking the Chain
Yet I found some days… well, life got in the way of my normal morning routine, and sometimes as the day was dying, I’d realize I hadn’t written all 250 words. A week in, I’d only be giving up a chain of 6-7 days in a row. But a month in, that was 30 days, and losing that would sting. I didn’t want to start at 1 again. So those nights, I’d direct myself to a keyboard to get those words down. It’s a promise I made to myself. A challenge for me. To be a writer.
When I got to 100 then 200 days in a row, the idea of letting the chain break was simply impossible. I’d add 201 points to my total in a single day. Forget what anyone else was doing. I was working on my projects at my own pace. And I refused to let that chain break. Period.
Where We are all Equal
Only here, in the chain, is everyone equal. Sure, we all write at different speeds. But a day is a day for each of us. And the chain rewards persistence over performance. Giving a clear numerical score, something other parts of life rarely give.
And once that score of continuity proved I wouldn’t quit, that I had the chops to be the one who writes, I started seeing it in others. In time, I noticed groupings: Writers hitting the tens of thousands of words, and some in the twenties. I found myself, if not cheering them along, checking on how they were doing. When someone skipped a few days, I wondered what had happened. Sick? Vacation? Family things? I never wanted to think anyone simply quit. We are, after all, the Brooklyn Speculative Fiction Writers.
Some of these folks were in my novel critique group, the Last Keybards. Whether they came to the meeting or not, I could always see how they were coming along in the Challenge. Almost like I’d bumped into them at the water cooler. Sometimes, I’d get to read what those chains represented in the Last Keybards workshop on Zoom. People going from wanting to write to forging chains of written words. Acting as writers.
In the End, 355
I can’t recall the final numbers, except for one; my chain was 355. Meaning I had written at least one page every day for 355 days.
That’s no less than 355 pages. Of proof, I’m a writer. Pushing that first book of Tlaxenen to completion.
I can say this challenge has kept me honest. Won’t let me, “oh, I’m just too tired. I can skip it just today.” Not once. Never breaking the chain.
The challenge has also made writing just a little less lonely. I’ve seen who is keeping up, even cheering those who were neck and neck. See who is falling behind and wonder at what might have happened.
Over the past going on three years that I’ve joined in this BSFW Challenge, I’ve found it’s not only a fine way to keep me honest. But a way to see how others in our little community are coming along. Letting me wonder what they are up to. What they are working on. Or what might have happened, should a few days be missed.
In the end, it didn’t matter that Gore Vidal never answered that apocryphal question with, “writers write.” I believed he did and acted on that belief. In acting, I became that writer.
And yes, I did all 365 days last year. On my way this year, too. And the draft of Walking the Darkmaker’s Way comes ever closer to being complete. With an unbroken chain and a dollop of luck, this summer. At last.
What Does This Mean for the Future?
The first draft of the fantasy novel Walking the Darkmaker’s Way will see completion in 2026. Its sibling novel, The Book of Visions, will see work resumed.
Work is also being done on moving the softcover version of A Perfect Blindness to Kindle Direct Publishing so I can have control over it and lower its cost.
The short story collection Selecting Ourselves will receive new attention, including a slow rollout of audio, with me reading each story. Not a rush here, just returning to some older plans.
And those are just the plans currently in the works. More exist in wings. And like these, they all have Literary precision applied to unsanitized human experience. Whether in our world or imagined ones.
