By Jeff Mariotte
The Morton Syndrome
“When it rains it pours.” That’s what it says on the side of the Morton Salt can in my pantry, but it could as easily describe the summer monsoon rains or the way work can show up unexpectedly, all at once—or the alternative, which is worse.
I’m a full-time writer, which is another way of saying that my work schedule—and my income—can fluctuate wildly. Unless you’re a regular on the bestseller lists or have a spouse with a steady income, you’re probably the same way. I work all the time, either on original novels or work-for-hire novels, and occasionally on short stories or comics. But the WFH stuff usually comes with short deadlines attached—and up-front money—so there are times that original work has to be pushed aside to take on a tie-in project.
Just after the first of the year, I achieved a new record, for me. I’ve previously accepted a couple of three-book deals, but never before have I been approached on the same day by three different editors—two offering WFH book contracts and one soliciting a short story for a science fiction anthology. I accepted all three. It’ll mean a lot of work in a hurry, because the two novels are due on March 26 and May 1. And it means putting off the original that I started in November.
I took the jobs, because an extended period last year had been, for a variety of reasons beyond my control, short of contracted work. I wrote and sold original supernatural thriller Missing White Girl during that period, but even so, a dry stretch like that is hard to cope with financially. This, folks, is why they tell writers to keep their day jobs. It’s hard to put the food on the family, in our president’s terminology, when there’s no bread in the bank.
To make matters more complicated, as I launched into these two new projects, I also had a flash flood of page proofs that needed to be checked—for two novels and a short story. The long book I was reading (Lisey’s Story, by Stephen King—beautiful, so far) has been set aside while I work on the proofs and the research required for the new novels. Because both WFH projects are novels based on TV shows, I have a ton of DVDs to watch, in addition to the regular sorts of research that are required for any novel. In the middle of all this I also had to do the paperwork and proofreading associated with having a short story, “Walkaway,” accepted by the Amazon Shorts program, and study contracts for a couple of original graphic novels.
Then there are appearances, travel, conventions, promotion, networking…all of these will be happening between now and those two deadlines, and I’ll have to fit them in without jeopardizing the work itself. And my tenuous grasp on sanity.
What it comes down to is management. Writing is an art but it’s also a business, and you have to manage your time and your finances. If you can’t manage those things, then maybe you’re better off as a part-time writer, with your daily life controlled by a “legitimate” job. In some ways it’s harder because it means squeezing your writing into smaller chunks of time. But there’s a lot to be said for having a regular income.
Having known many hundreds of writers over the past couple of decades, I’m very aware that some have been phenomenally successful, while others have been completely unable to keep their careers going and have had to take other jobs. Becoming a full-time writer is, like any sort of entrepreneurial enterprise, a risky proposition, and not everyone makes it.
In the end, you—and the market forces that dictate your success as a writer—will have to make the decision for yourself. I don’t regret my decision (very often), even though it causes hardship from time to time. And I consider myself very fortunate indeed to remain in demand as a tie-in writer, as well as being able to sell my original work. It’s the best of both worlds.
I started by talking about salt—but if you manage your career well and you have the talent, you can also afford to treat yourself to dinner at Morton’s (the excellent steak house, not the salt mines) once in a while. That’s definitely a bonus in my book.

7 Comments, Comment or Ping
Sully
I admire your courage in taking a flyer on your career. Probably doesn’t seem heroic to you. It does to me, ’cause I went to Plan B when I married, straight as 6 o’clock. And the irony is that at one time my income was pretty much from gambling. A “regular” income wasn’t enough, as it turned out. And when the marriage was done, and I went back to what I never should have left, the taps started to open. Scared money never wins, as a mentor told me in my gambling days. If you’re married, I really think it comes down to the tolerance of both spouses for uncertainty. Duh.
– Sully (Thomas Sullivan)
Jan 21st, 2007
Janet Berliner
“Scared money never wins, as a mentor told me in my gambling days.”
They still say it here in Vegas and it remains true.
Jan 21st, 2007
Rick Steinberg
As a writer who makes his living solely frmo his writing, I couldn’t agree more with your essay, Jeff.
I’ve turned down work only twice. Once, when I was in the hospital, and once - although I very much wanted to do the project, when extensive foreign travel was involved and they were unable to front expenses.
If you’re a writer, you write. If you’re a writer you seek writing. if you make your living solely through your writing . . . you write A LOT!!!
And meet your deadlines.
And do quality work no matter the “importance” of the assignment.
And pray for the day when you hit the writers’ loterry: a five book/audio/foreign rights/film/gaming contract worth twenty million per project.
Heavy sigh.
Until then, i’ll write whenever and however i can . . . for lovely money.
And when I can . . . for my soul.
Jan 21st, 2007
Anonymous
James Lee Burke gave me the same “Scared money never wins” advice once, during a particularly low point. It seems to have held true ever since.
He also, to Rick’s point, gave me another unforgettable bit of advice: “When you put your arm in a bucket of shit, it’s going to come out brown.”
He was talking about Hollywood at the time.
Not that I’d turn down the writer’s lottery if it happens. But we all know we can’t count on that.
Jeff
Jan 21st, 2007
John B. Rosenman
On top of everything else, Jeff, you have contracted to write an essay once a month for this site. That is very low-paying WFH.
Thanks for the inside look at being a full-time writer.
Jan 21st, 2007
David Niall Wilson
We all think about writing full time. I’ve done the long stints of work for hire, and found them almost too debilitating…so I chose the alternate route…no sleep, and write when I’m not doing my day job. There are a lot of ways to approach it all…and I’m not saying I won’t do writing for hire again…right now, money is money, and I still need more…but I’m glad I haven’t had (yet) to depend on just my writing to get me by…the tension would be too draining…so I admire those of you with the guts to do it.
I have high hopes that one day something I write will reach a point of popularity that I can (with some degree of safety) consider going full time.
We are nothing without our hope…
DNW
Jan 21st, 2007
Scott Nicholson
There’s a saying, “How you live your day is how you live your life.” Keeps it pretty simple.
Scott
Jan 30th, 2007
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