Authors Beyond the Written Word: Creative Pursuits and the Question of How to Making a Living
- “As with most creative pursuits, writing as the sole source of livelihood is a rarity. This is true even in advanced wealthy societies where creative careers are enjoyed only by a select segment.”
As much as I love my job as a writer, it is a stark tragedy that in this industry, one cannot earn a living out of our passions. A lot of the authors have a permanent 9 to 5 engagement besides writing. And the profession of writing remains more of a passion for many, than a real job, barring a few handfuls. Does it not pay well? Does one need an MFA/Masters in Journalism or Mass Communications to seek a successful career? Does it stem from a familial legacy of writing? Is the industry itself rather unstructured? These and many questions began to tickle my fancy when I came to know the J2s of many Pakistani authors.
I met Saad Shafqat, author of Rivals, in last year’s KLF, only to find out that his primary bread and butter was medicine. When I spoke to him about the same, the doctor opined, “As with most creative pursuits, writing as the sole source of livelihood is a rarity. This is true even in advanced wealthy societies where creative careers are enjoyed only by a select segment.” Shafqat grew up in a medical household in Karachi and became a doctor specializing in neurology.
Of course, it’s a meaningful and fulfilling career but it did not satisfy his instinct for written expression “which I had always felt since school days.” So, after settling into his medical career, he began writing as a hobby. “First on cricket, then social issues, and more recently fiction in the form of two novels. Yet I can’t envisage myself being a writer full-time. To me, writing is a creative pursuit subject to moods and urges. It’s not a duty or an obligation.”
Osman Haneef, author of Blasphemy, leads a startup incubator at the London Business School and supports entrepreneurial programming across the university. Previously, as a tech entrepreneur, he launched and scaled a startup to provide health and insurance services to millions in Pakistan. Now, he enjoys helping other ambitious founders launch and build businesses. Haneef agrees that it is hard to live off one‘s writing even if one writes an amazon bestseller and wins a national award. “Bernadine Evaristo wasn‘t able to live off her writing until she won the Booker Prize when she was almost 60 years old. Most authors also teach and are almost always engaged in something else to support their writing career.”
Although Haneef has studied several courses in creative writing, “I don’t have an MFA. It isn‘t necessary and plenty of fantastic authors don’t have one. However, it is important for writers to read widely and edit ruthlessly. And a taught writing program can force a writer to develop the craft.” Haneef has other passions “but writing isn‘t a “hobby.” To edit and work on a novel to the point where it is ready for publication is painful and time-consuming. It is not something you do for pleasure. But, on some level, I feel compelled to do it.”
While it may not be a dreamy way to live, a 9-5 professional engagement (be it a job or a business) provides stability, security and peace of mind, which can be lacking in writing career. Asserting the same, Taha Kehar, author of No Funeral for Nazia, elaborates this comprehensively, “Writing is often perceived as a mechanical process. It is difficult to shed the image of writers relentlessly hammering away at their keyboard, determined to finish their first draft. Even the most prolific writers realize that such a grueling work ethic is unrealistic and unsustainable.” He elucidates that writers can’t spend all their time filling an empty page. “They need time to allow ideas to gestate before they fly out of their hearts and minds, and become the measure of a reader’s imagination.” As a seasoned journalist, he knows that writers need to step away from the process and immerse themselves in the business of living. Through this hiatus, “writers are able to produce work that bears the imprint of a particular locale, culture and age.”
And then practical concerns also create barriers between writers and their chosen canvas, he says. “For instance, I can’t possibly envisage paying the bills through the meagre advances and royalties I obtain for my books. When I graduated from law school almost a decade ago, I had a burning desire to write fiction. Even then, I knew that not all writers make millions. Besides, my mother and father, who had studied medicine and engineering, respectively, wouldn’t have approved of my plans to become, what they’d consider, a “starving writer.”
The fear of being penniless steered me towards full-time newspaper journalism. My only consolation was that I got the opportunity to earn a living by working within the realm of words.” It helped him to earn a respectable salary that enabled him to shell out for his own expenses. “However, I didn’t find spiritual fulfillment in polishing news stories and wanted to explore new creative horizons.”
While it may not be a dreamy way to live, a 9-5 professional engagement (be it a job or a business) provides stability, security and peace of mind, which can be lacking in writing career.
What followed then was a courageous decision to go freelance and focus on writing fiction. “Mercifully, I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that freelance writers are always given their due. More often than not, the remuneration is abysmally low and cheques are habitually delayed.” One of the primary reasons for him to diversify his sources of income. He taught undergraduate students, edited manuscripts and took on freelance projects. He didn’t earn as much as he did before, but trained himself to conserve my resources and invest judiciously.
“I’m often told that I shouldn’t have quit my newspaper job, especially since the financial health of the media and publishing sectors has dwindled in recent years. As a result, freelance writers like myself don’t obtain the desired financial compensation. Undaunted by the uncertainty that has gripped the industry, I now sparingly take on freelance projects, preferring those that intrigue over the fluff pieces that guarantee rich dividends,” said Kehar. When he is not teaching, he focuses on crafting stories. Why? “Because writing gives me an unbridled joy. I know I’m not the only one. There are several writers out there, with fancy MFAs and other impressive credentials, who, like me, have the courage to confront the blank page. It isn’t the easiest thing in the world, but we do it because we can’t do without writing. Having said that, who wouldn’t want to get paid for doing what they love?”
Speaking in the same vein, Sibtain Naqvi, author of Unravelling Gordion Knots, says, “There are many things I am passionate about and writing allows me an outlet to pour my thoughts into.” Naqvi hails from a legacy of creative people: his forefathers include orators, calligraphers, journalists, artists, and poets. “But it’s basically an individual choice. I know others with similar background, but they don’t follow the family path, so it varies from person to person.” Naqvi is a corporate strategist by day and a writer by night. “I have been contributing for various publications for over 20 years and have published a few books, but writing has never been a full-time job. That gives me the opportunity to write about things I am passionate about and allows me the chance to grow as a person and as a professional. If writing was my main line of work, then perhaps I would not have that independence.”
Talking about the relevant education enabling a writing career, Naqvi is of the opinion that it may help to understand the basics but at the end of the day, “it is passion and perseverance that matters. The more you write, the better you write.” Despite the writing industry being relatively unstructured, many writers have moved up the scale, from small newspapers to international bureaus, and from articles to books. “They did it by making the smart moves and sticking to what they are good at. It’s tremendously satisfying to see that progress and I hope to see many more success stories come up.”
Zain Saeed, author of The Year of Sound and Heat, extrapolated the same, “Of all the writers in the world, probably less than 1% of them make a living from just their writing.” Relating it to the basic demand and supply phenomenon, “big book deals that can sustain a career are literally one in a million since the supply of content is so large, and there are simply not enough people to read all of it. Even the most successful novelists in the world (Booker Winners, Pulitzer Winners) either have a full-time job in some industry, or teach their craft at universities.” Saeed is one of the latter. Because understandably, working in a different profession expose authors to new experiences, people, and environments, which can serve as valuable material for their writing. This firsthand knowledge can make their work more authentic and engaging.
Having a separate job can give authors the flexibility to write what they are passionate about without the pressure to make a living solely from their writing. They can explore experimental topics without worrying about commercial success. Quite humanly, Saeed admits to this, “I’m not sure why I teach, except I cannot imagine a life of writing without teaching. I’m also the type of person that needs to be busy with other things to be able to write. If I were left alone with nothing to do but write, I wouldn’t be able to write a single good sentence.”
A Pakistani writer barring exceptions like Tarar Sb remains conflicted in terms of passion and profession, states Haroon Khalid Akhtar, author of The Liar’s Truth. “It is no breaking news that fiction writers here in Pakistan simply can’t make a living by any stretch based on writings alone.” Pakistan’s English readership is limited, more so for genuinely creative endeavors. In fiction, romcoms and young adult fiction may sell to an extent but not something that has true literary merit. “In Urdu, things are also fast going down the spiral. Pakistanis are not a reading populace, which was not the case in the 70s or 80s. Like many other things, the deterioration of higher taste and right preferences in the society has been shockingly fast.”
But Akhtar remains persevere as we read his pieces time and again. “I will continue to write (and win odd awards) because of the creative urges bestowed through my genes. Otherwise, there is no motivation for writers as we neither have a proper publishing industry here nor the surrounding ecosystem of agents, editors, and international circulation capability of publishers to make it big for a writer.”
Sara Danial is a mother of two. A Pakistani writer/editor, born, raised and survived in Karachi, though to be precise, reared in the dunes of Dubai, she was corrupted by English and a voracious appetite for books. She’s certain to die in the present century as she was born in the last. Stained by several vices, like reading and writing and with a Master’s degree, she thought the world should be at her feet, but she was wrong. She took up her old vice to land up in the world of literature, through which she shares her love for all things sacred to the English language. Her writing has been published in Dawn, The News on Sunday, The Friday Times, Pakistan and Gulf Economist, South Asia, BOL, The Friday Times, The Nation and The Express Tribune. She can usually be found musing about over a cup of coffee or occasionally ranting. You may vent out at sara.amj@hotmail.co.uk.