First things first. As I write this, it’s Book Launch Day! Harm’s Way, the 15th entry in my Jonathan Grave thriller series drops today. In this story, Jonathan is summoned by FBI Director Irene Rivers to rescue someone special from the grips of a drug cartel that has taken a group of missionaries hostage in Venezuela. Once the team arrives, however, they discover trouble far more horrifying than a standard hostage rescue. When the first book in the series appeared in 2009, I never would have thought it would have the kind of legs that it has.
Thanks to everyone who has shown support over the years. Hopefully, there’s much more to come!
Which brings me to the topic of today’s post: What does retirement look like for a writer?
Over the weekend, a friend (Jim) and his wife visited the West Virginia Compound for a good old fashioned cookout. As the meal was being prepared, Jim announced that he has finally made the decision to retire from the sales position in which he’s thrived for well over a decade. An affable guy, and very much a people person, he seems to me to be a perfect fit for the high-end products he sells, and to be honest, to the outsider (that would be moi), he seemed to make a really good living by not doing very much. He’d built his base of customers over the years, and now he just worked the phones for a couple of hours every day, and then he was done. He could have retired some time ago, yet chose not to, so “Why now?” I asked.
Management had changed, the compensation package had changed, and bottom line: his give-a-damn quotient had been met. He just didn’t want to do it anymore. Hey, I can’t think of a better reason to punch out and explore the rest that life has to offer.
Not long into the discussion, Jim turned the conversation to me. “How long are you going to keep doing this writing thing? Every time we talk, you’re on some deadline. You’ve got close to 30 books out there. When do you close the computer and retire?”
I confess that I didn’t have an answer. Sure, there are current contracts that need to be fulfilled, but that’s very short term. All it would take to walk away from the writer life would be a telephone call to my agent with the announcement that I don’t want to pitch another contract.
But I don’t think I could do that. It wouldn’t be a problem financially (though more is always better than less), but I think I’d have trouble with it emotionally. While being a writer is not a critical part of my identity in the psychological sense, it is the best job I’ve ever had. I’ve worked hard to build the “brand momentum” that I have, and I know that such momentum is not recoverable once I take my foot off the accelerator. That’s the practical side, reminding me that you’ve got to be very, very comfortable with your mooring location before you burn the lifeboats.
I enjoy the company of writers, and I love having a key to the clubhouse door. Back in the early aughts, when my career took it’s monumental dip and I didn’t have a book either recently released or even in the works, I felt like an outsider among my friends at conferences–like I was watching people enjoy the banquet while not having a seat at the table for myself. That’s all on me, and much of the angst was driven by the fact that I was not in charge of my situation. Being dropped by a publisher is an entirely different world than choosing to walk away. But still . . .
I don’t have any hobbies to speak of. The world of plants and vegetables considers me a mass murderer as I try my hand at gardening, I’d rather put a fork in my eye than chase a little white ball across a field with a golf club, and there are only so many holes to poke in paper from 50 feet (or 300 yards) away.
And let’s be honest. What I do for a living is what I used to do in my spare time before I did it for a living. I enjoy the process of writing, and I love seeing books with my name on them. I don’t enjoy deadlines, and as I’ve written here before, I can’t sit and type for long periods as I used to.
I can think of very few things in life that trigger the same sense of contentment that comes from creating a scene or an exchange between characters the is just right, just what I wanted it to be.
So, no. I’m nowhere near close to burning the lifeboats. In fact, I plan to start yet another thriller series.
What about y’all? What does retirement look like for you?
Retirement was when I was going to START writing, after a long and presumably satisfying career in plasma physics at Princeton.
Fate change that, and disability removed me from the working world in 1989, with three small children – they took most of what energy I had left until somewhere around 1995 when they were big enough for their father to look after and put to bed after his full time job, and I accelerated the writing part by taking a local course in ‘Writing the mystery.’ For 6 Monday nights in a row.
So instead of retiring in 2015 or so, I got started on the writing a bit earlier – and a whole lot more slowly due to that pesky reason.
I’m not giving up the one thing that saved what sanity I had left until I CAN’T write any more – I don’t care how slow I am if I can do it, and I have lots more to write.
I fear losing my marbles – we all do – or physically not being able to cope at all, but, absent that, many of our role models (Dorothy L. Sayers is one, Agatha Christie another, Colleen McCullough, Flannery O’Connor, Ursula LeGuin…) kept going… forever. I thought that’s what writers did.
Oh, and we already moved to a retirement community and got rid of the house, so there’d be more time for what we WANT to do.
The greatest thing about a properly-planned retirement is the abundance of options. Enjoy them!
The way I feel about the day-job is “they pay me for the staff meetings,” and they’ll get me to leave either in handcuffs or on a gurney…
My writing, though, will be only on a gurney…
Happily retired from a career as a CFO.
I’ll retire from writing when dementia stops me.
Dementia won’t stop me. It’s just something else to write about.
While I look forward to retiring from the day job one day (if for no other reason than the awe of seeing all those usable hours come back into my life after an EXTREMELY long absence!) it never occurred to me to retire from writing.
While writing at times feels like work (when you get bogged down on a plot point, or are proofing for the 3rd time, etc.), it doesn’t feel like work. I can’t imagine retiring from writing unless some physical issue were to prevent it.
Which makes me wonder–has anyone ever written so much they ran out of things to say and quit writing? Hmm…
I’ve stockpiled enough ideas to get me through 2087. Then I may consider retirement.
I worry about that happening every time I finish a book.
I’ve been contemplating “retiring” with the current wip, but … nah. My output might be less frequent, but it’s what I do. And I don’t have to retire from writing to add travel and photography to my life. Funny, as this topic meshes with my personal blog post for today.
I retired from the library in December 2019, and became a “full-time” writer at long last. I’ll retire from writing the day I die. Until then, I plan on having as much with it as I can.
“As much *fun* with it,” needless to say 🙂
The “fun” was silent. 🙂
Congratulations on your latest book, John!
Retirement? Nah, not until I’m found slumped over the computer.
First, congrats on the new book, John; love the cover.
Having recently passed my platinum (or is it diamond?) birthday, I’ve been wondering about this. But because I’m a “creative,” and because writing is one of the creative arts—along with the design, photography, filmmaking, et al. that I practice—I can’t imagine retiring from it. Slowing down, yes. Stopping? Hell no.
I retired in part in 2005, and entirely in 2008. I was already writing by 1981 and doing works for stage starting in 2004. I produced my 3-act tragedy, Midnight in the Temple of Isis, in 2009, and have written 24 other plays, since, 17 of which have been performed in venues from San Pedro to Ojai. I sold my first novel in 2012 and have self-published 5 more books since then. I’m wrapping up 2 more and working on my 7th monograph on brain structure. I have no plans to stop writing.
Makes you wonder how you ever had time to “work” doesn’t it?
Well, it’s a mystery.
“you’ve got to be very, very comfortable with your mooring location before you burn the lifeboats.” — Great line!
I loved my day job in software development. I worked with intelligent people, delivered some good software, and spent decades solving problems (my favorite thing to do.) Then I walked through the retirement door into another world that’s even more wonderful because I get to create from within and work on the things I want to. What could be better than that?
I don’t particularly want to be comfortable. I want to keep reaching beyond my grasp to see what’s out there.
I downloaded Harm’s Way yesterday, John. After I finish #14 (for the second time), I’ll jump into it. And I’m glad to hear you’re starting another series!
I retired from the medical field completely in June of 2020. Not having to get up at 4AM to write before work is a blessing . . . but, it also has its unintended consequences. Like-“oh, I can do that later”. Later becomes really later.
I’m like most of you. I’m brimming with ideas. The difficulty is choosing. I don’t plan to quit until they pry my cold, dead hands off the keyboard.
Happy Hump Day!
I hope you enjoy HARMS’ WAY! I’ve come to believe that alarm clocks enforce a certain discipline in life. I’m getting up at 6am three days per week with this new radio gig, and those tend to be my most productive days. Go figure.
Congratulations on the release of Harm’s Way!
Haha! “The world of plants and vegetables considers me a mass murderer as I try my hand at gardening…”
I assume I’ll slow down, but I don’t expect to retire from writing. After all, Herman Wouk wrote his last book when he was 100!
My plants have given me a name tag: Hospice Gardener . . . She helps us to Jesus.
🙂
I have a writing project that is being perpetually being pushed into next year. But… I also have 60 birthday candles and counting. Many of my friends are jretiring. I still work two jobs, and by the quirks of how things work, collect a retirement check from a job I used to do.
The two biggest factors to ending writing for money are enjoyment and income. Can you live on your investments? Writers may not depending on what else they did before becoming a full time writer.
Number two, is do you enjoy it? I am looking forward to hanging up my second job. Pizza delivery pays very well for listening to my car radio. But it takes a physical toll. Why I still do it? As of yesterday I have two children in college. Not a good week to cut my income.
You will know when it is time. Your decision, it will be the right one.
When I address young people, I always tell them that while it’s important never to lose sight of your dreams, it’s far more important to take care of your family and pay your bills. The Bohemian lifestyle sounds like a friggin’ nightmare to me.
I could never retire. I love creating, my characters are like family, and the sense of pride and accomplishment I feel when I hold a book with my name on the cover is one of the best feelings ever. Why would I ever want to give that up?
🙂
I appear to be the only one here that has actually retired from the writing profession as well as my semi-regular profession at an online teacher. The sheer stupidity of the publishers and the teaching companies burned me out, not the writing or teaching. (Boy, do I have stories.) I still dabble with teaching through my writing blog as well as an occasional consult, and I play in my fictional worlds without any need to put it on paper. I woke up this morning with a horror/fantasy novel in my head and absolutely no desire to write it. I am surprisingly content with both outcomes.
Just finished #13. Harm’s Way is already on my Kindle, but I try to save one for when I need something good to sink into. So now I can read #14. Yay, more Boxers!
On your question, I’ve been published since 1991. Since then, I’ve never been not under contract somewhere. Five different publishers. So far. And just re-upped for 8 more books, four each for my two current publishers. (some self-pubbed too, but just dipping my toe in there.) I cannot imagine not writing. Even if nobody wanted the stories, I’d keep writing them for me, because I have to. It’s such an intrinsic part of me I’d feel crippled without it.
I’ve always said I want to be that writer who keels over at the keyboard right after typing “The End.” I’m still saying it. 🙂
I don’t see myself retiring…maybe slowing down a bit with a year between deadlines, instead of 9 months. I need more time to visit my Florida family.