I quote this observation from the late, great Harlan Ellison’s preface to one of his books often enough that it probably deserves its own post.
“An author is someone lucky enough to have their name on the cover of a book. A writer is some poor schmuck who can’t help but put words on paper because the Muse has got her claws into them.”
I think about those lines more than almost anything anyone else has ever said about this strange compulsion of mine and the odd world it has made me live in.
Why the Word “Schmuck” Is Doing So Much Work
There’s something deliberately undignified about that word choice, and I think that’s the whole point. Ellison isn’t describing a romantic calling or a noble pursuit. He’s describing a compulsion, slightly ridiculous and not entirely under your control. That matches my experience far more closely than any grander description of “the writer’s calling” ever has.
The Difference Between Writing and Wanting to Have Written
I think the quote captures the difference between people who write because they can’t help it and those who want the result (the published book and the title of author) without facing the daily compulsion and grind that produce it. I’ve met both kinds. Only one of them has the Muse striking at 2 am, whether they like it or not.
That’s me in the first group!
I suspect members of the latter group are the ones most likely to resort to using chatbots to write their books. Of course, Ellison didn’t live long enough to see the rise of AI. I wonder what he would have said about it? I’m pretty sure it would have been extremely profane, given how angry he could get when he thought someone was cheating.
Why I Recognise Myself in It So Completely
I’ve now written 2¼ million words not because I sat down one day and decided to become an author, but because I genuinely cannot help but put words on the page once an idea has taken hold of me. That’s not a flattering thing to admit about yourself. It sounds less like discipline and more like a mild form of madness, perhaps an offshoot of OCD. But it’s accurate, and Ellison’s quote is the most honest description of it I’ve ever encountered.
If, for whatever reason, I can’t get an idea out, I get very antsy. For instance, once I was driving from England to Spain when an idea struck me. I couldn’t do anything about it for about three hours until we stopped for the night. Fortunately, I had my iPad with me, so I could start working on the piece while we waited for the hotel’s restaurant to open. It was a real relief and let me fall asleep fairly quickly.
Why It Comforts Me, Oddly
On days when the writing feels less like inspiration and more like compulsion, when I genuinely can’t stop despite being tired and having other things I should be doing, that quote reminds me this isn’t a personal failing.
It’s simply what being a writer, in Ellison’s sense, entails.
And that includes writing blog posts like this one.
So yes, I’m some poor schmuck who can’t help but put words on the page. I made my peace with that description a long time ago because it delivers results!