You know, I think writers might be a bit weird. Please don’t be offended, but I think we are rather strange and obsessive. We make up worlds, make up people, spend hours and hours and hours writing about them and then put ourselves through the anguish of trying to get published. So it seems we’re masochistic too.
In today’s instant gratification society, striving with no promise of any reward is the opposite of what is being sold to us every day. Unless the writing itself is the reward, but as we all know, often it’s stressful, annoying, infuriating and just plain scary! Then when we feel it’s done, we let our work be seen, and then shot down.
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Can you tell I’m having a bad day? This week has started with an agent rejection and then a failure to place in a competition. The agent rejection I felt fine about, strangely, but the competition has hit me in the guts.
And we writers do this to ourselves again and again. Why? Am I so egotistical that I shake my fist at the world, yelling “Fools! You have no idea of my talent – I will do this again and again until I get the recognition I deserve!” No, I don’t. Practically every day I have to fight to tell myself that I can write. Sometimes. On a good day. Meh.
Am I blinded by dreams of wealth? No. I know how little authors earn. One day, I hold out the faintest hope that I will be able to secure an income that allows me to spend more of my day blogging and writing fiction than I do now. More of my day? Hah! I’ve barely managed to devote a few hours to fiction and blogging over the last month – all of my words have been for other people to pay the bills. And that makes me grumpy.
Do I have some kind of self-destructive streak that loves putting myself up for rejection, so that this feeling of inferiority can be confirmed by others? Maybe, but I think my self-destructive streak works in other ways.
Urgh. I wonder if this is a healthy life at all. The Collective Inkwell posted about the myth of the tortured writer and questioned why it exists and whether it should. But right now, I feel like the writing life is a recipe for madness – how can it not lead to insanity? Was it Einstein who said that the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again expecting different results? Or do we take on the mentality of the salesman – another rejection is one step closer to acceptance, it being a numbers game.
I write. When it’s good, it’s the best feeling in the world. In fact, when I think about it, I love the writing. The editing less so. But putting it out there is the worst part of all. In the face of rejection, what are we supposed to think? Do we believe the people who say “You’re being rejected because your writing isn’t good enough yet.” or do we believe the ones who say “Keep at it, that person just isn’t a right fit for your book.”? Which one? Which one!
Human beings are pattern matchers. We are hard-wired to look at everything we are exposed to a try to make sense of it. In the creative arts, it seems that this quality can work against us. The data is messy. The entire process is subjective – so we get some people saying our writing is great whilst others do not. That pattern matching part of the brain is put under strain, looks for a set of objective rules to help it, but no, there are none. It’s not about good writing. Look at a certain YA vampire bestseller – there’s proof for you. And every other rule has exceptions and caveats and just plain randomness.
Oh why am I even moaning about this? So I’ve been knocked back, oh boo-hoo, what am I going to do about it? I’m just gonna get back up, dust off and do it again, aren’t I? What I’m really railing against here is the fact that I keep writing and I don’t know why. No, not writing – submitting the work, that’s where the rub is. I could withdraw again, keep my stories in my house and never let the world outside see them. Then there would be no pain, right?
Wrong. Something has changed in me and I don’t understand it. I don’t feel I can do that any more. Something is driving me on, so inexplicable to me that it almost doesn’t feel like my own impetus. It must be vanity. What else would drive me to pursue this dream? And what kind of motivation is that?
And now the inevitable question about whether I should post this up. Another great big shiny wart for all to see. Right now I’m too angry to care. Here is my big wart. Marvel at its ugliness. Gaze at the horror. I know I’m not beautiful and I’m too frustrated by the path I’m on to try and hide it today.
Hi
Thank you for sharing this deeply personal and emotional blog.
I believe that putting the writing out into the world is the desire to make a connection with someone, be it an agent, an editor, or – best of all – a reader ~ one who will fall in love with the world, characters and books you create.
Please persevere.
And when your stories are published I will read them.
Love From Canada
twitter.com/RKCharron
xoxo
Rob Charron’s last blog post..RKCharron: For a terrific blog about the music of #Steampunk visit @theginfairy’s http://www.kimlakin-smith.com/ with great musical recommends
Em, I don’t believe it’s vanity. Isn’t it truth? That somehow you have the feeling, I mean you *know* somewhere inside you that your story is telling a truth, and it should be told and shared.
Sorry you’re having a bad day. Remember we love you
Joanna Young’s last blog post..Rounding Up Breathing Space
Well, Emma, as someone who’s going through the same thing as you (sometimes it is uncannily like reading my own thoughts when I read your blog – I even laughed out loud at the Einstein quote as it’s exactly the kind of thing I beat myself up with) I’m pretty sure it *is* vanity.
Trust me, I’ve asked myself all those questions, over and over. I’m not an egomaniac and I’m not a masochist. But I do believe that what I write is well done. I do believe that what I have to say is worth listening to. I know full well I’m not Gene Wolfe (my hero du jour) or Kurt Vonnegut but I also know that I’m not at all bad and what I would really, really like before this coil gets shuffled off is for some publisher, somewhere, to agree with me enough to put me in touch with an audience that will appreciate me. In the immortal words of Whitney Houston, “I’m tired of dancing here all by myself.”
So, vanity. But you could call it a strong sense of my own worth, too. If I’m not mistaken, that change that came over you recently was something like that too.
I read these ‘big warts’ of yours with great pleasure. I marvel at your courage and insight. And I think they’re clever and funny. Someone like you *should* be writing books. It’s a shame the world we live in is a monkey-house. If it were a more rationally-organised place, you’d have a contract by now.
And so would I.
Graham Storrs’s last blog post..One in Seven
It’s bad enough when I a) submit pieces for publication and b) get rejection letters in the privacy of my own home. Doing it in a public contest, where all the world can see and comment on my work is tough. Even tougher when I look at the pieces that won and think, “Mine was better than these!” Either the judge was wrong, or I’m deluded as to the quality of my own work. The first is unlikely, the second is painful to contemplate. So, I’ll conclude that the contest was flawed. How’s that for a dodge?
I say keep at it. Your writing is good, and deserves to be more widely read.
Tony’s last blog post..Writing as a worthwhile activity
It’s not vanity. It’s because deep down, in the subconscious part of you that connects with the creative flow of the universe, you KNOW you’ve got a talent and the corresponding duty to share it.
That was an ornate, whimsical, slightly unhinged way of saying: keep the faith. It’s hard when you get superficial rejection but the salesman philosophy is more appropriate than the Einstein quote. Madness in that context would be sending an enquiry letter to the same agent 200 times. Sending one to 200 different agents would be completely sane. So the numbers game is the better analogy.
If you like, think of it as a superconfident man who seems to have great success with chatting up women they’ve just met. What you don’t realise is that their success rate is still 1%; they just chat up a LOT of women.
Actually, that was an odd way of putting it, but can I blame the soupy heat? I can? Thanks.
Besides, it’s the same for all artists, performers and creatives in all media. Writers perhaps feel more isolated. But it’s just as precarious to be attempting to succeed as a musician, or painter, or sword-swallower (I imagine). You are never alone in that self-doubt and angst!
To put it bluntly, you’re a really good writer, Emma. It’s obvious. From reading your posts here seem to tap in directly to the heart of some pretty complex emotions. It would be a crime against humanity to squander that talent. Which is why you’re doing the right thing, by continuing.
For when you think rejections mean you should stop -
Two words: JK Rowling. (is that two? Or three? Er…)
OK then, an alternative two words: The Beatles.
For when you think your talent is insufficient to succeed -
Two words: Dan Brown.
Oh, one other thing: I interviewed one of my musical heroes a few years ago, who gave me an excellent piece of advice. He said: “Losing my record contract made no difference. I am an artist. So I continue.” It doesn’t matter whether your latest query letter was successful or not, Emma. You are an artist. So you continue.
Queenie’s last blog post..Behind the lens
You too huh? I also failed to place in the same competition, and I didn’t take it too well either – I don’t know why that was, but it hurt more than any other rejection I’ve had (well, any other writing rejection at least!)
Keep at it. We’ll get there in the end! We do it because we are driven to do it – think how much worse we’d be if we DIDN’T give in to the compulsion to write!
“There is no failure unless one stops.”
– Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing
Creatives cannot stop, fortunately.
Diana’s last blog post..One too many mornings
Sorry you have a bad day, Emma. And thanks for sharing your thoughts and emotions – a very brave and courageous thing to do! Just don’t let these things stop you.
Ulla Hennig’s last blog post..Vilnius, the Capital of Lithuania
@Rob – You know you gave me the perfect answer first! I had forgotten about that; it was the primary motivation before I got all tangled up the in struggle. I want to bring people into the world I’ve made, help them to escape the mundane, every day life we all lead (well, most of us anyway). Such lovely words, thank you.
@Joanna – I’m fascinated by what you say – or rather my own reaction to it. I’ve never thought of it that way at all. I think perhaps I would feel conceited to think that there’s anything that important in the book, but there are themes that *are* important – navigating through life that is dominated by gangs for one thing – that I feel is important. And that’s only one of them. Hrm, something to think about.
@Graham – This made me grin like a school-girl. I think this is exactly why I was drawn to you all those months ago – there is a kinship between us. Ah, if only it were a sane world. People who create would be rewarded, people who help and heal would be even more so and those who undermine and destroy would be disempowered. Such a shame it’s the other way round. I know it is little consolation, but I love your stories.
@Tony – oh yes, you know how this feels – and we share disappointment in that contest. I like that dodge – hell, what else do we have? Aside from each other that is – us struggling writers have to stick together!
@Queenie – You know what I’m going to do after finishing these replies? I’m going to print your words out and put them on my wall. What a fantastically eloquent way to diffuse my madness. Careful now – if you carry on like this I may develop an internet crush on you!
@Paul – I think it hurt more because there was an element of being judged by our peers. I’ve been involved with that community for a while – not as much as some, but I was disappointed that only 50 or so read the story. But never mind – I’m pleased with what I wrote and have other plans for it. And here, have a sympathetic virtual cup of tea here with me. We can be each other’s salve for the wound.
@Diana – Oh… Ray… I have just bought that book on your recommendation. Thanks for your response – I forget sometimes that I am creative – and that there’s a massive clue in that word alone. Duh!
@Ulla – With lovely people like you guys, there is too much driving me on to let them stop me!
Emma, your “big wart” is not something whose “ugliness” I marvel at; it’s your heart your love your passion and its painful side. And I reckon it’s probably part of what makes you such a good writer.
Have started listening to your audio of the book and behold it is good. Don’t give up trying to get published. But regardless of that (which is not completely within your power anyway), don’t stop writing! You have something to say and something that touches other people’s imaginations and emotions.