When did you lose your “fire in the belly”?

A boss once told me I didn’t have that, and I immediately wanted to tell him that I had plenty of fire in my fists.

But really though, when do you hit this point? “This is as far as I’m getting, I give up,” that sort of thing.

My drive disappeared quite a while ago.

I’m not talking about burnout per se, although that is a factor in this.

 

I feel like that single most common cause of losing one’s fire can be described in one word: management.

 

Seeing co-workers you hoped to emulate at some point bail out of the biz and take PR gigs, seeing other co-workers "encouraged" to take early retirement. When your top people can't call their own shot when they leave - you realize it won't end well for anyone. And then seeing co-workers laid off and treated with so little respect - you realize then that the "we're all doing important work here" crud that management tries to sell is a fraud.
Heck, even seeing editors and writers I respect have to supplement their income/and or transition into academia is tough to see - and those are the "success stories."
I congratulate those who still have the "fire" despite this - who will donate free hours to the company to make a story as good as it can be and told as it needs to be told. (Man, that was always the biggest con - "Yes we want you to work on that project, but get your daily responsibilities in as well " knowing you work the free OT on a story that may help get you the next rung up the ladder or feed your soul for three months or so.

 

When I and my coworkers were told that our newsroom is now to be called a Local Information Center.

 

When I saw a co-worker get treated like absolute shit. She was the hardest working person at the shop and had an editor who should have been fired two weeks after he was hired. Instead he was allowed to get away with stuff that could have allowed her to sue. Finally she quits and the publisher tells me to take on her responsibilities. I realized two things: He probably wanted her gone to save money and I was tired of a business they could do that to people. I committed then to get out and two years later, I finally had my ducks in a row to do it. Got my teaching credential and bolted.

As final proof I made the right choice, I wrote a goodbye column thanking the people who took chances on me. Pub calls me mad I didn't include him. Thanks for not firing me? Fuck you man.

 

I finally lost the fire in my belly at about 3:15 the other morning when the Pepto-Bismol finally kicked in after eating Sweet-N-Sour Chicken and a couple of Crab Rangoons a few hours before.

 

or marriage

Recently I've lost a bit of my fire. I was a columnist for many years, rose to write for several national websites, but never quite got a following. No excuses, I simply didn't have it, whatever the masses were looking for. I've gotten OK with it. One of my buddies recently told, "Man, you blew it," and by that he meant I had a platform and just didn't do enough with it. Well ya know what? Ya can't blow what you don't have.

I'm OK with that. Or rather, I'm becoming more OK with that.

Now the fire is redirected toward fiction. Maybe I don't have what it takes to be Michael Chabon or Jonathan Franzen, either. But if you don't have some sort of goals, then that seems to me when you're really toast.

 

Not a buddy.

 

Fair point. One of my long-time acquaintances.

 

OK.

Never let anyone talk you out of who you are, or who you want to be.

Or doesn't have your back when you fuck up.

Especially if you're trying to write fiction.