What's Your Excuse?

An Essay on Writing
by Mridu Khullar, international freelance journalist

In the years that I’ve been writing, I’ve interacted with thousands of writers. It concerns me deeply that as much as writers like to blame outside influences for our lack of success, or even lack of effort, we’re our own worst enemies. In the years that I’ve been active in the writing community, I’ve met many talented writers. And I’ve heard many different variations of the excuses I list below for not following dreams.

I’ve finally decided to counter them for you. Which one is yours?

“I have no money.”

A variation of this is: “I have to support my family” or “I have to pay my bills.” It’s a valid concern, but it’s still an excuse. The solution to this is simple:

1. Simplify your life: cut out the excess expenditure, make do without some things for a while, and save, save, save.
2. Find free resources to fund your writing: borrow your best friend’s computer, visit the library to find magazines, read while waiting at the doctor’s office, get online for advice and research.
3. Invest what you earn: Whatever little you make from your writing, put it back into writing. Buy a how-to book, save for a conference, or get that computer.
4. If you don’t earn from writing, don’t fret. Keep at it. An hour a day. Nothing more, nothing less. Do that until you’re able to do more.

“I don’t have time.”

Yes you do. You simply haven’t made writing a priority. One hour a day– before the family wakes up, after everyone’s gone to bed, in your lunch hour. If you can’t do that, write in ten minute increments. They add up. If you can’t do ten minute increments, do five minute timed exercises. Or 100 words a day. Other ideas:

1. Make a date: On Sunday, at 4 p.m., you will do nothing but go to the local cafe and write. Pick your time, pick your place, tell your family you have a meeting with someone important, and just do it.
2. Punish and reward yourself: If you don’t meet your weekly target (keep it small), you have to do the dishes for a week. If you do meet it, your husband does.
3. Involve your family: Make it something you can do together. You write and your kids draw. Or you write, and they write. Or if they let you write, you’ll read what you’ve written to them at bedtime.

“I’m a woman/I’m gay/I’m Indian/I’m fill-in-the-blank.”

1. Google “woman writer” or “gay writer” or “Indian writer” or whatever it is that you think is part of your personality that hinders you from your goal and see how many people in the same situation have made a name in that sphere.
2. Use your differences in your work. If there’s something different or unique about you, write about it.
3. You are a person first and foremost. If you believe that, there’s no reason why your readers or editors won’t.

“I have no talent/I don’t have what it takes.”

It’s sad how many talented, truly talented, people don’t recognize their genius. Which is possibly what makes them so special. However,

1. You don’t have to be super talented to write. If you enjoy it, do it anyway, and then throw it away. What’s the big deal?
2. Don’t aim for publication. Just write because you enjoy it. If you’re on this website reading this, you clearly do. So write. Why attach so much importance to the results of that writing?
3. Be a talentless writer. I don’t think I’m a talented photographer. I take pictures anyway. It’s fun. Is writing fun for you? Do it.

“I’m too old/too young.”

In her book, The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron talks about this man who wants to learn how to play the piano, but keeps delaying getting started. He says, “Do you know how old I’ll be by the time I’ve finished learning?” and she replies, “Yes, the same age you’ll be if you don’t.”

I can’t really say anything better than that. There are people who have published their first novels at age 18, there are those who’ve done it at 90. Age is, very simply, the most ridiculous excuse for not following a dream.

“But that’s crazy!”

Some of the greatest ideas are. You won’t know if it’s worth devoting time on unless you actually explore it.

“My spouse/partner doesn’t like it/support it.”

And you don’t like it when your wife gets a manicure every week or your husband parks his butt in front of every football match ever played. Your writing is either your job, in which case your spouse doesn’t get a say in how you choose to work, or a hobby, in which case your spouse doesn’t get a say in how you choose to spend your time away from him/her. Some other ideas:

1. I’ve had people in my life who haven’t understood this crazy obsession with staring at a blank screen. It’s usually due to a lack of understanding on their part, and a lack of providing proper explanations on mine. If you share your process, share your enthusiasm, and make your spouse understand why it’s so important to you, you’ll have much more support.
2. Sometimes though, unfortunate as it is, there’s no amount of explaining that’ll get you anywhere. Let that be. It doesn’t mean you have to give up writing, it means you simply give up trying to explain and feeling bad about it. Taking time to do something that fulfills you, whatever it may be, is not unreasonable.
3. We all have our little quirks. For me, it’s that I like playing Tetris (www.freetetris.org) when I’m blocked on a story. While to someone standing behind me, it might look like I’m playing a game, I’m really figuring out how to organize my story. Things like that might need to be explained, especially when your boyfriend hands you a steaming cup of tea because you’ve been working so hard, only to discover you’ve beaten his top score!
4. When you’re away from your writing, be away from your writing! Yes, it’s tempting to talk about it all the bloody time, and to wander off into space thinking about your characters when your husband is yet again talking about his boring office politics, but this is seriously the best piece of advice you will ever get on this topic: don’t make your partner compete with your writing. They can’t do it, they’ll never feel like they win, and they’ll end up detesting something so important to you. Not good. (And yes, I did learn this the hard way.)