Writing is a Business … isn’t it? By Heather Haven

From the very beginning, I was taught that writing should be a business. Good in theory, not so much in reality. If I think about my salad days, I made about 5¢ an hour. When I got a real job writing humorous ad copy for No Soap Radio, I made $125 a week. Even in New York City’s late 1970s that wasn’t enough to pay your bills, so I worked backstage doing costumes on Broadway to supplement my income. I was in my early 20s then and doing two jobs I loved was no hardship at all, especially if one was in the theatre. I love the theatre. Lots of talented people inhabit the theatre. I am proud to say I’ve met friends I’ve kept throughout the years. Certainly worth more than 5¢ on the dollar.

As for writing ad copy for No Soap Radio, every morning in a round table sort of setting – literally – is where I learned it was my job to produce something, whether I felt like it or not. For decades after that’s how it went. Recently, however, I took on the luxury of writing when I felt like it. It’s only been for the past 4 months and hard though it is to admit, now writing feels more like a hobby than a job. It comes, it goes, and so what? This hobby approach to things is not my style. I’m a workhorse type of person. I need to feel useful and committed. And as John Adams said, one of our founding fathers and presidents, “There are only two creatures of value on the face of the earth: those with the commitment, and those who require the commitment of others.” I knew I liked the man.

I’ve discovered — or rediscovered — it’s not the money that spurs me on. It’s the commitment. True, this has been an important break after 40 years of daily writing no matter what was otherwise going on in my life. It’s been a test of what writing means to me. But this new thing, writing whenever the mood strikes me, just isn’t working. I need to get back to work, scheduled and at the forefront. I need to get up every morning and feel driven. I need to rekindle the fire in the belly. In short, pass me the matches.

I write because I love it. I write because I have to. I write because it’s me. So I greet 2025 most welcomingly. A new year and back to being me — a crazy, driven, committed writer — who puts her work above everything else except for maybe the occasional glazed donut. Well, come on. Let’s get real.

Happy New Year to all the other crazy, driven, committed writers in my life. 2025 is going to be great.