Thursday, February 9, 2023

Claiming the Title of Writer from James W. Ziskin

In Lucy Worsley’s biography of Agatha Christie, we learned that Christie always wrote “married woman” in the “occupation” line on her passport. How did you navigate going public with being a writer? 

Me “writing” my name at
Interabang Bookstore, Dallas
I don’t recall there was ever any mention of profession in my passport, but, when traveling abroad, I used to write the word “business” on landing cards in the space earmarked for profession. Not sure why I balked at putting “businessman.” Maybe I didn’t want to be that. Most certainly didn’t want to be that. During my business career, I was a square peg in a round hole. I loved the work, yes, but hated many of the things required of management. Pushing pencils and counting beans were bad enough, though I could live with those. It was the laying off of people and scrounging for cost cuts, all to improve profits—ever so slightly and usually short-sightedly—that was killing me slowly. It made me sick, especially when the goal of efficiency was usually an exercise to maximize bonuses for the folks making the most money already. The lowest employees on the flowchart were deemed to be expendable though, ultimately, their salaries were not the ones hurting the company’s profitability.

So I felt sick about much of what I did and, as a result, never wrote “businessman” on my landing cards.

Neither did I write “writer.” I didn’t feel I’d earned it. Sure, I was writing in my spare time. Had been writing and trying to break through for forever, but I had to earn a living. Hence the roundish hole of a day job and my square-peggishness. I’d finished six novels over several decades, but had never managed to find the elusive publishing deal. I’d dreamed of being a writer since having tapped out my first novel on a blue portable Royal typewriter at age twelve. The identity of writer was important to me, a name I yearned for to define me. As such, it didn’t seem right to claim the title until I’d achieve some kind of demonstrable success in the field. Kind of like claiming the girl you can’t live without is crazy for you when—um, actually—she isn’t. Has, in fact, rebuffed your overtures in no uncertain terms. (Think rejection letters, writers.)

I needed to have something published before I could write “writer” on my landing cards.

It finally happened, of course. I finally wrote something someone felt was worthy enough to pay for and publish. Forty-one years after I’d written my first awful novel, by the way, with several other orphaned manuscripts along the way. It was torture to wait for that first morsel of satisfaction, doubting and despairing for so many years that it would ever happen. But that’s why the reward was so thrilling, fulfilling, and inspiring to me when it did happen. I could claim the title of writer at last and not feel like a fraud.

Today, I make no apologies. You can bet I tell people I’m a writer when asked what I do. I’ve paid my dues after all. Played by the rules, agonized over each failure, and put in the hard work. I studied and learned. Rubbed my paining backside and climbed back up on the horse countless times. Experimented and fell short. But I kept typing. Kept dreaming. Kept writing. As a writer does.

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

That’s Such a modest and honest piece…
.Each of your published novels are a pleasure to read and re read.



Catriona McPherson said...

I can confirm this - I didn't know you had ever *been* in business, Jim. Cx

Ann said...

What catriona said. Xo

Alice K. Boatwright said...

Great post, Jim. I have my own version of your back story and life now. Just the other day I was filling out the information required by a new dentist, and I put "writer" in the profession space with that same little flicker of pleasure and satisfaction. I worked hard to feel I've earned that title and, to this day, I do not take it for granted.

Terry said...

I didn't know you had a written six novels before you were published. So did I. And then, I heard at a workshop that the average number of books that people write before they are published is...(ta da) six. You are most certainly a writer!

Anonymous said...

😃

Susan C Shea said...

If there were enough room on those little forms, you could write "Award-winning writer."

Frank Zafiro said...

Great post, Jim.

You're more than a writer, though. You're an AUTHOR. A very specific kind of writer (and as Susan pointed out, you're the award-winning kind).

I wonder if what you went through was one part being fair and one part dealing with the imposter syndrome we all experience at some point...

Anyway, nice know you are unabashedly putting your profession in those boxes now!

Abir said...

Thank you for this warm and heartfelt piece, Jim. So much of it resonates with my own experience. And yeah, you should bask in the title of author. You've earned it!

James W. Ziskin said...

Thanks, everyone for the kind words. It’s a wonderful thing to be happy with what you call yourself, isn’t it? Abir, I thought of you when I was writing this post. I remembered you’d posted something akin to my sentiments not too long ago. I’m glad we both managed to get away from the jobs that left us unfulfilled and unhappy. And being a writer is a blast! Jim

Leslie Karst said...

I'm still hesitant to put "writer" or "author" on those blank spaces calling for my occupation, and often simply put "retired," or "retired attorney." Not sure why, though I guess it's because most years I spend more on my writing career than I make,so it doesn't feel like a real "job" yet. But your post has given me strength, dear Jim. So thank you. (And besides, they do tend to ask for "occupation," and I'm certainly occupied with writing most of my days!)

Anonymous said...

Always honest, always humble.

Deb Merino said...

Good reminder that the title of writer is earned through hard work and perseverance. Thank you for sharing.

Peg Brantley said...

I love that you have orphaned manuscripts. It gives a writer hope.... this one, anyway.