Illustration by A G Duffy

Dear Agony Editor,

I’ve written three novels and I’m considering quitting writing. I’ve watched my advances decrease, along with book sales, and I get little to no return on my time as well as my emotional and mental effort. I have a career outside of writing, so I’ll be fine financially. But there’s a part of me that doesn’t want my dream to die. How can I be certain that walking away is right for me?

Signed,

Throwing in the Towel

Dear Throwing in the Towel,

I’m sorry you’re grappling with this. 

For many writers, their identities are so entwined with their craft that it can be hard to imagine a life outside of writing. That said, writing is a terrible business model, so it’s smart to look at it practically. 

I asked an author of three novels who recently paused his own writing for his thoughts. “This is such a tough decision to make,” he told me. “Especially in a world focused on success and so judgemental of decisions that it views as ‘quitting.’ The truth is that, for me, the ratio of reward to disappointment had been tipping too much into the latter column for too long. But who knows if I’ll get inspired again one day, and with a different mindset and more time, will find joy once more. However, like others with a vocation, we will always be writers; our work stands on its own and is forever.” 

You’ll never be certain about anything until you do it, but I’d consider what you’d lose by walking away. For many writers, it’s the industry, not the act of writing, that is burdensome and dispiriting. 

Ask yourself what writing gives you. If it’s a sense of wonder or curiosity or – to borrow a word from the other writer – joy, maybe there’s a way to hang onto the craft, but keep it for yourself, not anyone else. And really, isn’t that how all writers start off? It may not seem like it now, but you might be at a point of true creative freedom, stripped of any expectations, where your only responsibility is to yourself.

Whether you stop or pause or continue with your writing, remember that advances, book sales, and readers don’t make you a writer. Your writing does.