“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.” ―George Orwell
George Orwell Category:Nineteen Eighty Four (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I happened upon an interesting article titled The Medical Problems of 4 Great Writers, which is just a snippet from author John J. Ross’ book Shakespeare’s Tremor and Orwell’s Cough: The Medical Lives of Great Writers. (Great title, by the way.) In his article, Ross references the same quote that I have above, one taken from Orwell’s great essay Why I Write. Ross’ point is that Orwell was somewhat literal, and not just metaphorical, in his complaint. His lifelong struggle with pulmonary issues, and namely tuberculosis, seeped into his works more than most would guess.
So Orwell knew something about long bouts with painful illnesses, yet still he wrote, even though his writing—and the traveling lifestyle that went along with it—likely helped shorten his life. (Chain smoking didn’t help either, I’m sure.) But talking of being “driven on by some demon” indicates something else as well. This is writing as compulsion, as something that must be done or the world, your world, won’t work.
In the end, the journalist, essayist, and novelist Orwell saw no other way to live his life. He was compelled to write (and thankfully for us, he was quite good at it). Such a compulsion required sacrifice, and for Orwell, it was a sacrifice of health and comfort: He traveled extensively, was often sick, and even took a bullet in the neck while in Spain.
So I suppose mine is a question of sacrifice. What are you willing to sacrifice for your writing? Material comfort? The security of a stable though unfulfilling job? Relationships? It’s an important question to ponder for those of us hoping that our writing will one day take off and open up new worlds of success to us.
Me? I will struggle with my writing; I’ll even suffer. But there are things—or people, namely my wife and children—that will always take precedence. I love to write, and it is more than just a hobby for me. Still, I understand that there are many things that come before it. I’d die for faith and family, but not for my writing.
So what about everyone else? What are you willing to do for your writing? What aren’t you willing to do? As always, I’d love to hear your comments.
C.T.
Related articles
- Why George Orwell is as relevant today as ever | Geoffrey Wheatcroft (guardian.co.uk)
- I Write Like… (scholarlyscribe.wordpress.com)
C.T. Westing 