In 1,000 degree heat (that might be a slight – but only slight – exaggeration) today, while cheering from the side of a soccer field (and later watching college football), some thoughts I’ve had over the last few months sort of gelled together.
It takes a team, but it also takes a coach. You can have the best players in the country, but if the coaching isn’t there, they can’t succeed as a team.
As odd as it may sound, this has been on my mind a great deal recently, not so much where sports are concerned (although I do love sports), but in the writing/publishing community.
An aside: I’m the daughter of a Methodist minister and a teacher. I’ve been taught my entire life to “rise above” and “turn the other cheek.” And that’s what I’ve done, and I imagine it’s what I’ll continue to do, because in the grand scheme of things it has its place, and it’s who I’ve been raised to be.
But my husband hails from a different background, and his take on things is this: “Sometimes, you have to meet people where they are. If they’re in the trenches, that’s where you have to go to fight.”
He has a point, and it’s one to which I’ve given a fair amount of thought.
As I’ve distanced myself from my previous publisher and moved forward with creating my own imprint and re-releasing my novels, some things have become painfully obvious. I’ll always regret (and be saddened by, because that’s what I feel – sadness) the missed opportunities due to lack of promised editing, lack of response, and breaches of contract that meant even the most basic of publishing duties weren’t upheld. On the flip side, I’ve learned a great deal, and for that, I’m grateful.
For writers, too, it takes a good coach. A bad coach can do more harm than good, in the end.
I’ve struggled this summer with letting go of anger and moving forward. I think I’m there. I hope I am. I don’t believe in holding on to anger, because it does so much more harm to the “holder” than it does to the “recipient.”
This is my story, and this is my interpretation of it, though other participants may disagree. I’ll probably never be one of those fighting “down in the trenches,” but I do believe I’m one who presses forward with eyes wide open, learning from past mistakes.
As painful and frustrating as the last few months have been, I need to give a shout out to all the readers and authors who have supported me through it. We might not have had a good coach, but we’ve played one hell of a game, and we're just beginning.
Malcolm