The Unbearable Costs of Becoming a Writer

My parents didn’t understand my job. At least, not in its entirety. If asked, they might tell people that their daughter was a writer. They were both avid readers who read my first book and many of my stories; once, when I visited them, I found a newspaper article I’d written stuck to their refrigerator door. On visits, they would occasionally see me working—that is, staring at my computer screen, typing a bit, and staring some more, wrestling with a draft for hours or days. They might be interested in what I was writing, but sometimes it was difficult for them to see it as Work, and they would often mistake it for volunteer labor, a hobby, like the hundreds of stories they knew I’d written growing up. The editorial process, my entire career in publishing, seemed nebulous to them, mostly invisible labor—until I sent them something I’d written that had been published, something they could see and hold and read for themselves. [View in Browser]( [Esquire]( [SHOP]( EXCLUSIVE [SUBSCRIBE]( [The Unbearable Costs of Becoming a Writer]( [The Unbearable Costs of Becoming a Writer]( My parents didn’t understand my job. At least, not in its entirety. If asked, they might tell people that their daughter was a writer. They were both avid readers who read my first book and many of my stories; once, when I visited them, I found a newspaper article I’d written stuck to their refrigerator door. On visits, they would occasionally see me working—that is, staring at my computer screen, typing a bit, and staring some more, wrestling with a draft for hours or days. They might be interested in what I was writing, but sometimes it was difficult for them to see it as Work, and they would often mistake it for volunteer labor, a hobby, like the hundreds of stories they knew I’d written growing up. The editorial process, my entire career in publishing, seemed nebulous to them, mostly invisible labor—until I sent them something I’d written that had been published, something they could see and hold and read for themselves. [Read More](   [Palm Angels Just Freaked Barbour's Classic Bedale]( [Palm Angels Just Freaked Barbour's Classic Bedale]( How do you stand out in a sea full of olive-colored waxed canvas? Wear this. [Read More]( [Why Chris Pine Thinks Kids Should Play Dungeons & Dragons at School]( [Why Chris Pine Thinks Kids Should Play Dungeons & Dragons at School]( “It exercises the imagination. It’s joyous, it’s improvisational. And within a matter of minutes, everybody’s on the same page. You’re not arguing about whether or not you’re cool or not." [Read More](     [Please, Say Gay]( [Please, Say Gay]( In Missouri, the state where I grew up, lawmakers are debating a bill that would prevent any “nurse, counselor, teacher, principal, contracted personnel, or other administrative official at a public or charter school” from discussing “gender identity or sexual orientation” with a student unless they’re a licensed mental-health provider and they have the permission of the student’s parent or guardian. Missouri is one of 32 states to have introduced this kind of legislation, because I guess that’s how you fight inflation. I’m just going to say it, cancel me if you must: I am in full support of my home state’s Don’t Say Gay bill and the dozens of others like it. Don’t Say Gay? I say, “Yay.” [Read More](   [The Dreams and Nightmares of Cody Rhodes]( [The Dreams and Nightmares of Cody Rhodes]( Once upon a time, Rhodes had to leave WWE, the company where his family shined as superstars, to find himself. "I was in pain," he says. Now, he's back—fighting to fulfill a dream for himself and his legendary father. [Read More]( [Stock Up With These Fantastic End of Season Style Deals]( [Stock Up With These Fantastic End of Season Style Deals]( It's spring, sure, but with the arrival of this season comes the end of the last one. And with that comes one very important thing: end of season sales. [Read More](     [When Answering the Phone Means Life or Death: Inside a Suicide Call Center]( [When Answering the Phone Means Life or Death: Inside a Suicide Call Center]( The storm came with snow and then sleet over snow and then snow over sleet. It will keep coming. More than a foot so far. Already it has bent trees over power lines and swallowed mailboxes and dragged cars off roads. Corvus had her own car towed home the other night, just before she lost power. The rooms went dark and then the water pump shut off and then the air began to chill. She hacked away ice from the car with a knife, just to make the drive the next morning, down the hill and into town for work. She knew she would not be able to get back. She booked a motel room, has spent the last two days there, slept little, walked to work, walked back. Tonight will be her last shift this week. She trudges to the call center once more. The snow comes up past her boots. [Read More](   [Win a Four-Night Stay in Tulum ($2,000 Value)!]( Follow Us [Unsubscribe]( | [Privacy Notice/Notice at Collection]( esquire.com ©2023 Hearst Magazine Media, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Hearst Magazines, 300 West 57th Street, New York, NY 10019