Why Writers are Miserable, by Matt Haig

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Okay, it's a generalisation. There are a lot of writers, even those outside the self-help and spiritual well-being shelves, who I am sure have naturally sunny dispositions. And yet I would like to put forward the argument that low-level misery is the default setting for most writers. Not the full-on, chop-off-your-ear-while-painting-crows-in-a-cornfield high-level despair that was the preserve of nineteenth century artists, but a more contemporary sense of unease at the world around us. Was it Larry David who said that the collective term for writers is a ‘gloom?' Anyway, whoever said it, they have a point.

And this is how it should be. Misery - to do a riff on Gordon Gekko--is good. Not good, in general. Not good for everyday living. It's not a character trait you want form a sales assistant or talkshow host, but I would say that if there is a place for the miserable then it has to be sitting at a laptop typing a thousand words a day.

Now, don't misunderstand me. I'm not saying that the job of a novelist is to make other people miserable. No. That would make me evil and I'm not evil. I'm British, and there's a subtle difference. It's subtle, but it's there.

No, the job of a novelist is to tell a story. The job of a novelist is to reflect life, even if the mirror they hold is the deliberately distorted kind you get in fairgrounds. The job of a novelist is to offer a corrective view on the way we see the world. The job of a novelist, as the name implies, is to search for new and ‘novel' ways of telling that truth.

To get to a place where they can do this does not depend on a high IQ or the right education or creative writing course. It depends on perspective. And perspective depends on being able to stand back from, or even outside, the object studied. And miserable experiences in childhood or adulthood are normally those that push you to the edges and force you to look in on, and study, the so-called happiness other people are sharing.

Well, this is my excuse. Maybe the real answer is that if you are naturally introverted and borderline sullen, I guess it's probably easier to get away with it as a novelist than as a brand consultant (which, for my sins, used to be my day job). And misery, it has to be said, is back in fashion. Maybe it's that the world is on the brink of economic meltdown, or the eternal wars we're a part of, but people seem to have a taste for the black stuff at the moment. Not just in the perennially miserable world of literature either. Even the sunshine factory that is Hollywood has gone gloomy recently, not only with those miserable writers going on strike, but also with the work itself as the likes of the Coens and Tim Burton and Paul Thomas Anderson have released some of their most deliciously miserable work to date in recent months.

So, I want to stick up for the sour-faced literary types out there and call for miserable writers of the world to unite. We have nothing to lose except our smiles!

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