“Talkers are no good doers.”
This line, from Shakespeare’s “Richard III,” is one everyone who seeks to make something should take to heart.
Years ago, I attended a writers’ group at a local library. I had just published my first novel and was excited to discover a group of local writers gathering monthly to discuss and share their work.
But as soon as the group members discovered I had published a book with Doubleday and had just sold another, they did not treat me well.
“Who bought the novel?”
“How much was the sale price?”
“Hardcover or paperback?”
“Is it a multi-book deal?”
“What was your advance?”
“How did you find a publisher?”
“Do you have a co-author?”
“How old are you?”
The questions weren’t asked in the spirit of curiosity. They were fired at me with skepticism and anger.
I answered as many questions as I could, declining to talk about finances but explaining the process by which I found an agent and eventually sold the book. As the group asked clarifying questions, two things became clear to me:
- These people do not like me.
- These people like to talk about writing more than they like writing.
I explained that after finding an agent, things got a lot easier, as she was able to guide me through the revisions that the manuscript needed.
A woman fired back. “How the hell did you find an agent? Did you know somebody?”
“No,” I said. “I didn’t know anybody. I queried more than 100 agents, and I guess I got lucky.”
I began to wonder how I might leave early, as this meeting was scheduled to last three hours.
Amid my interrogation, a woman described her plan for a three-book project: two novels and a nonfiction compendium that would later delve into some of the nonfiction elements of her fiction. She asked me for the best way to proceed in finding an agent to represent and sell her ideas.
“How about writing the first book first?” I said.
It was as if I had shouted blasphemy from the rooftops of the world. She actually snorted a combination of disbelief and annoyance in my general direction.
This has happened to me more often than you might imagine.
Someone asks me how to find an agent or launch a publishing career, and my answer is always the same:
“Write a book!”
Oddly, they often don’t see this as the first step.
People ask me how to become a paid storyteller and keynote speaker, and my answer is always the same:
“Start telling stories! Find an open mic! Start your own open mic! Go to The Moth and begin performing!”
Again, oddly, people don’t want to take the stage unless a paycheck accompanies them, but I was telling stories on stages in New York City and Boston for years before I ever saw a dime.
Many people seem to enjoy discussing the things they want to do, but they spend decidedly less time doing the things they should be doing.
Shakespeare was right:
“Talkers are no good doers.”
Forward motion. Relentless progress. Never-ending effort.
Be a doer.
