Being an Amateur Writer
I’ve been asked before what credentials I have to write about writing: Have I been published? Do people pay me for my writing? Am I a professional? An expert?
Modern-day society especially has become so dependent on proof … Where’s your degree? Your certificate? Your salary? Your followers? Your award? Your little piece of paper that says I can listen to you?
I don’t mind people asking me for proof, and I don’t mind answering that I have none. I am what some might disdainfully refer to as an amateur. My only proof—my only credential for writing—is that I write. Depending on your point of view, my being an amateur is either an asset or a liability. Austin Kleon in his new book, Show Your Work, says it’s an asset:
We’re all terrified of being revealed as amateurs, but in fact, today it is the amateur—the enthusiast who pursues her work in the spirit of love (in French, the word means “lover”), regardless of the potential for fame, money, or career—who often has the advantage over the professional. Because they have little to lose, amateurs are willing to try anything and share the results. They take chances, experiment, and follow their whims. Sometimes, in the process of doing things in an unprofessional way, they make new discoveries. “In the beginner’s mind, there are many possibilities,” said Zen monk Shunryu Suzuki. “In the expert’s mind, there are few.”
The less you know about a field, the better your odds. Dumb boldness is the best way to approach a new challenge. —Jerry Seinfeld ![Tweet: The less you know about a field, the better your odds. Dumb boldness is the best way to approach a new challenge. —Seinfeld @RiteLikeRowling]()
Finding Fans
In today’s selfie-obsessed world where we call our blogs platforms and our Twitter followers contacts, it’s important to remember (for our own happiness and sanity) that we’re not supposed to be somebody to everybody.
When I first started blogging, being a nobody bothered me, but thankfully I’ve had some epiphanies since then and it doesn’t bother me anymore. I’ve come to accept the fact that I’m not a somebody to everybody; in fact, I’m a nobody to almost everybody. And that’s okay. I matter to people who care about the same things that I care about.
Stop worrying about how many people follow you online and start worrying about the quality of people who follow you. Don’t waste your time reading articles about how to get more followers. Don’t waste time following people online just because you think it’ll get you somewhere. Don’t talk to people you don’t want to talk to, and don’t talk about stuff you don’t want to talk about. If you want followers, be someone worth following. … Make stuff you love and talk about stuff you love and you’ll attract people who love that kind of stuff. It’s that simple.
— Austin Kleon in Show Your Work
Sharing Your Writing
Where should you start, then, if you’re an amateur? Austin has sound advice for that too:
The best way to get started on the path to sharing your work is to think about what you want to learn, and make a commitment to learning it in front of others. … Be on the lookout for voids that you can fill with your own efforts, no matter how bad they are at first. Don’t worry, for now, about how you’ll make money or a career off it. Forget about being an expert or a professional, and wear your amateurism (your heart, your love) on your sleeve. Share what you love, and the people who love the same things will find you.
I write not because I have a piece of paper that says I can but because I want to share what I love—what inspires my curiosity—and I’ve been lucky enough to find others (amateur or not) who feel the same way.
