Between a Hack and a True Place

I don’t know what to tell you. My fingers don’t seem to work this morning. It took some effort and good old-fashioned bullying, but I managed to make them share this:

I learned this from Robert McKee. A hack, he says, is a writer who second-guesses his audience. When the hack sits down to work, he doesn’t ask himself what’s in his own heart. He asks what the market is looking for…

…It can pay off, being a hack. Given the depraved state of American culture, a slick dude can make millions being a hack…

(On Pressfield’s success with The Legend of Bagger Vance)
…I trusted what I wanted, not what I thought would work. I did what I myself thought was interesting, and left its reception to the gods. — The War of Art, Steven Pressfield

The term “hack” came about by shortening the word “hackney” — which is a horse that’s easy to ride and bred to pull carriages.

There’s something to that.

I’m caught between being a hack and a being true. Some mornings I sprint to my desk and write what I think folks want. Other mornings I crawl to it and write whatever I want because pandering is exhausting.

My most recommended story falls in the “write whatever I want” category. And all the stories I thought people wanted? Nobody cared.

But it doesn’t always work out that way. You can’t control reception or readers and you shouldn’t try to either. All you can do is show up. Every time you do, you get to choose between being a hack and being true.

Write what’s in your bones — what you love, hate, know, care about.

Or don’t.