Practical dreams
I've seen a couple of blog posts lately that talk--brilliantly, sensibly, and with feeling--about some of the issues writers deal with post-publication.
First there's Jody Hedlund on the post-publication "identity crisis." A sample: "But I've also realized that the grass isn't necessarily greener on the published author side. ... The hoopla never lasts very long. And I'm still just an ordinary person."
In her post, Jody refers to one by Elana Johnson on the post-publication reality check. A sample: "POSSESSION is not an important novel that is nominated for multiple--or any--awards, and it is not a Best Book of Anything.
I feel foolish for hoping for such things, or worse, expecting them.
And I feel foolish for allowing any of the above to make me feel anything but grateful and satisfied.
Because ... I wrote and published a novel."
Then there's Michelle Davidson Argyle's approach to handling reviews. "... I have to constantly remind myself that my writing is not up for negotiation from me. I've put it out into the world because I want to share it - and at that point, I have no control over that piece of art anymore."
I don't know about you, but for me, reality checks like these tend to be comforting. The bottom line is that publishing a book is like anything else--it brings new sources of pain along with new sources of joy. The reality is that most of us will write midlist books, and most of us will not win the Nobel Prize for literature, and most of us will not follow in Shakespeare's footsteps and still have people reading our work 400 years after we wrote it. Knowing all that ... would I encourage writers to dream smaller?
No, I would not.
I would encourage writers not to get their identity and self-esteem all bound up in the external success of a book. But I suspect everyone dreams big things for a book--even if only for a teeny tiny moment--and why not? We do our best and put our words out there, and then we have no control over what happens. Some of it will be disappointing. Some of it will be wonderful. Both are true, and even accepting the bitter with the sweet, I would not trade this life for any other.
On a different note of both inspiration and practicality, once again I'm joining the blog challenge to raise money for Heifer International, started by Nathan Bransford. Because of my schedule, my challenge will only run for about a day, so I'll donate $5 to Heifer Intl. for every commenter on this blog post (at either LiveJournal or Blogger) by 6 PM EST on Thursday, December 22. If you want even more money to go to Heifer, you can then hop over to Nathan's blog and comment there.
First there's Jody Hedlund on the post-publication "identity crisis." A sample: "But I've also realized that the grass isn't necessarily greener on the published author side. ... The hoopla never lasts very long. And I'm still just an ordinary person."
In her post, Jody refers to one by Elana Johnson on the post-publication reality check. A sample: "POSSESSION is not an important novel that is nominated for multiple--or any--awards, and it is not a Best Book of Anything.
I feel foolish for hoping for such things, or worse, expecting them.
And I feel foolish for allowing any of the above to make me feel anything but grateful and satisfied.
Because ... I wrote and published a novel."
Then there's Michelle Davidson Argyle's approach to handling reviews. "... I have to constantly remind myself that my writing is not up for negotiation from me. I've put it out into the world because I want to share it - and at that point, I have no control over that piece of art anymore."
I don't know about you, but for me, reality checks like these tend to be comforting. The bottom line is that publishing a book is like anything else--it brings new sources of pain along with new sources of joy. The reality is that most of us will write midlist books, and most of us will not win the Nobel Prize for literature, and most of us will not follow in Shakespeare's footsteps and still have people reading our work 400 years after we wrote it. Knowing all that ... would I encourage writers to dream smaller?
No, I would not.
I would encourage writers not to get their identity and self-esteem all bound up in the external success of a book. But I suspect everyone dreams big things for a book--even if only for a teeny tiny moment--and why not? We do our best and put our words out there, and then we have no control over what happens. Some of it will be disappointing. Some of it will be wonderful. Both are true, and even accepting the bitter with the sweet, I would not trade this life for any other.
On a different note of both inspiration and practicality, once again I'm joining the blog challenge to raise money for Heifer International, started by Nathan Bransford. Because of my schedule, my challenge will only run for about a day, so I'll donate $5 to Heifer Intl. for every commenter on this blog post (at either LiveJournal or Blogger) by 6 PM EST on Thursday, December 22. If you want even more money to go to Heifer, you can then hop over to Nathan's blog and comment there.
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