so you want to be a writer?
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.
don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
- From sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way
Copyright © 2003 by the Estate of Charles Bukowski.
[h/t to pō’ĭ-trē]
9 comments
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February 2, 2009 at 8:24 pm
Ralph
Wow. I get it, and I can certainly dramatize things when I want to, but somehow my writing doesn’t feel like a rocket. A warm and steady ember, maybe.
I love what this says about Bukowski
February 3, 2009 at 9:05 am
lazarusdodge
I know Bukowski makes it seem like it’s sheer passion that should drive you – but there is as much desire as there is heat to the process. And he speaks of that as well – you have to “want” to do it. As in anything we do, without the desire, there is no honesty of purpose.
I’ve read your writing – and you weave a good tale. We don’t necessarily have the “rage” we did in our earlier years but the desire is still there – to solve a mystery, to make some sense of where we’ve come from, where we’re going, and report back to those behind us.
And people that come to read our writing share that sense of commonality and curiosity. Otherwise they wouldn’t be here. Which is why we also write – best to light the candle…
- J.
March 10, 2009 at 11:05 am
The Morning After: Charles Bukowski Remembered « The ‘Not-So-Rough’ Guide
[...] March 10, 2009 by jerrysmolin Charles Bukowski died 15 years ago yesterday. During the early 1970s, I lived briefly in Denver, Colorado, where I imagined myself part of a “next wave” of beat writers working their way west from New York, via Denver, to Venice Beach in California. I panhandled on Colfax Avenue; I shoplifted groceries; I drank too much; I read my own poetry in bars for spare change; and from time to time, when I wasn’t imagining myself as Jack Kerouac, I imagined myself as Bukowski: I even wrote several poems in which I tried not just to channel his voice but to swallow the poet whole. One of my “Bukowski poems” is “published” here – about a woman who shrieked and stormed from the room during a reading I gave of a poem that mentioned a female body part. Following my poem is Bukowski’s “rules for writing.” [...]
May 18, 2009 at 11:22 am
Boris Simic
Bukowski, seems, to tell truth in every word and combines these words into verses effortlessly. However, he is much (by far) better writer of prose, in my opinion.
May 18, 2009 at 12:33 pm
lazarusdodge
I first read his poetry and then his short stories. Both seemed to have the same rhythm – much like the book of his letters I also just read.
I’ve always favored the “abrupt” style of his poetry though…but that’s just me. My impatience has never been my best trait…
- J.
July 4, 2009 at 3:02 am
Sarah
This poem really opens up my eyes as a writer.
Never knew it could be so touching at some point and inspirational as well.
July 4, 2009 at 6:39 am
lazarusdodge
That’s what makes for good poetry!
- J.
September 13, 2009 at 2:07 pm
Cherenkov
Too bad he was a god-awful writer. So, rule number one. Don’t take advice from horrible writers.
I mean, he could have used a little reflection–no–a lot of reflection. And editing. And a breath lozenge.
No worse advice than “just blurt out whatever the f*ck comes to your talented little brain,” has ever been uttered. It is exactly this type of hoo-hah that creates the millions of crappy little writers who coo and seep their wet, boring ideas all over the place at a profoundly disheartening and alarming rate–real fire hoses of crap.
Here is some advice: Rewrite. Several times. If you like Charles Bukowski’s writing, rewrite ten or twenty times. Can’t hurt.
Bukowski is known more for being a drunk than a writer. And there is a reason for that.
September 14, 2009 at 9:29 am
lazarusdodge
Well, if anything, Bukowski certainly seems to inspire the passion he talks about!
Don’t know if I agree with his prejudice against rewriting – although I’m still poor at it myself. For a time, I agree with that philosophy and reminds me very much of Kerouac’s approach – first words are the truth.
Rewriting can ruin a piece as well as enhance it – the art comes in knowing when to start and when to stop.
As far as who Bukowski is perceived to be – I’d agree that he was a drunk AND a writer. Some of his work was enlightening – some of it was crap. Both were published.
May we all be guilty of that some day…
- J.