The Reality of Writing

First of all, let me make it perfectly clear that I do no write for financial gain, but purely for passion and an unbreakable love for the art.

It was only today that I actually decided to look back at the sales of my work and finally crunch some numbers after leaving them on the back burner for ten years.

This afternoon, I received my very first tip from a total stranger in the States. Not from a friend or close relative, but from a complete stranger who lives on the other side of the pond from me.

It was seeing that sudden email link congratulating me for my first Vocal tip that made me scratch my chin and think back to the financial corner of the trade.

"Just how much money have I made over these past ten years? Might be worth checking. I could be rich and not even know it!"

So I checked the royalties from my four self-published novels on Amazon, but alas, nothing but a few scratchy pennies hovered over the pitiful piggy bank counter, laughing at my pathetic little eyes as I expected a little more.

Then I checked the royalties from the countless articles and poetry; again, finding absolutely zilch. Nada.

So with that, even with my dire mathematical skills, I was able to calculate exactly how much I had earned over ten years of pouring my heart out onto several blank canvases.

With the $10 tip from a stranger, I have made a total of $16.35 to date. That is really all I have to show for it in terms of financial gain.

So to any aspiring writers out there, let me tell you this. It's a bloody hard world out here, and the expectations of hitting rockstar wages are slim to non-existent. So if you're expecting to cover your family or bachelor lifestyle, you might want to consider other options.

But then, as I stared deeply into that penniless rabbit hole of a royalty account, I remembered the reason why I write. And for a moment, I almost felt ashamed of myself for expecting anything more than a positive review when it came to publishing any piece of work. Because honestly, that's all it takes to win a writer over. A compliment. That's really enough to motivate someone to keep on picking up that quill and pushing on to new projects and wider boundaries.

At fourteen I wrote my first short story. Scribbled in a thick red sketch pad, I spent an entire night coming up with a story in my head and just creatively flowing with the mood, not knowing what would happen next or where it would take me.

I wrote and I wrote until the sun broke through the cracks of my window blinds and the ink in my pen dissolved into a worn bulk of scrambled pages. With tired eyes and a personal masterpiece firmly in my hands by sunrise, I remember that feeling of accomplishment hit me as I held it up and clicked the pen shut.

Stemming from that beautiful night came a whole flutter of projects. From delving into dark poetry for when the mood struck to coughing up story plotlines and character development trees. Backstories to folklore, appearances to ambitions; it all came pouring out naturally for each passing day.

I remember that feeling of ecstasy as I finished each piece, regardless of whether I liked them or not. Because they were pieces I had done by myself. It wasn't a little piece of something I had contributed towards. It was my work. That's a feeling nobody could explain until eventually going through it for themselves.

When I was seventeen, I started my first big project. I wanted to write a novel; something completely out of the box and mind blowing to any potential reader. A piece of work I could proudly call the staple to my writing career.

Despite being knocked back countless times by uninspiring college exes or concerned family members, I chose to pursue it like nothing else mattered. And so for years I struggled through the battle with myself over whether or not I'd have the courage to finish it.

I'd pick it up, and then I'd put it back down again and allow it to grow distant and tired. For years I did that, purely because that same thought of self-doubt kept hitting my brain;,patronizing me and telling me it'd never amount to anything.

"Give it up now, Jord," my mind would say.

"Nobody will ever read it."

Four years later and the devil on my shoulder persisted to bog me down and convince me to just back out. And honestly, at times, I did. For months at a time, I'd lose track of things and just leave it be until I was able to no longer feel guilty about it.

But once the bolted-on negative aspects in my life subsided and I was granted just a smidgen of creative space and time, I was able to jump back in and finish the book.

After four years of sparring with myself, I was able to self-publish my work and brand it as my own.

In 2016, Three Leaf Clover published to the Amazon Marketplace on paperback and Kindle.

Fast forward to present day and you'll see me shaking that poor excuse for a rainy day fund until it spits out ash and dust.

But like I said, that's not it. It isn't about the financial gain when it comes to writing. I realise that more than anything.

We write because we love it. The joy that comes from unleashing our inner-monologues and sharing our minds with the world is beyond comparison when it comes down to profit and passion.

We share our stories, knowing full well we'll never make a living out of it. But being comfortable with that and accepting it is the first step to becoming a great writer.

I myself have such a long way to go, and I am far from being perfect. But the determination to make something my kids will be proud of is enough to keep me pushing further and further into the ocean that is creative writing.

As I write the first line to any project and feel that sudden self-doubt in my mind, I like to think back to that first written story in that little red notebook of mine.

Recalling that wonderful feeling as I put pen to paper for the first time; that's what motivates me to do it all over again. That, as well as the future smiles on my kids' proud faces as they stand over me and smile as if to say, "My daddy made this!"

That's enough for me. It was never about the financials, nor was it about trying to prove something or myself wrong. It was for them, and of course, it was for you.

We write, and we dream of being noticed and having our stories heard. But knowing someone close to you somewhere will smile one day and thank you, that's enough to keep picking up that pen again.

That's enough to want to write. And when all is said and done... nothing else should really matter.

Should it?

- J Tury

For Ivy & Jasper.

One day they'll read my work. One day they'll make it all worthwhile.