If there’s anything writers are more neurotic about than writing, it’s money. Only a fortunate few can actually make a living from writing, and the struggle to support a career that offers no guarantees, no benefits, and no security makes most writers more than a little anxious. Always there is the hope of « hitting the jackpot, » having one’s work met with praise as well as an audience of some amplitude. […]
Writers should want money; writers deserve money. And I salute any writer who feels he is fairly compensated. But I will never believe that writers are motivated by money – at least not at the outset of their careers. Writers want love, and they hope that through their work, they will be recognized as special. And that is why most writers are crazy. When a writer gives his editor the pages of his manuscript, he is, in essence, handing over his heart on a plate. And until he gets a response, his entire sense of himself is in limbo. It’s like waiting for the results of a biopsy.
From The Forest for the Trees, by Betsy Lerner.
