Estimated reading time: 4 – 6 minutes
During a journey into the Twitterverse, I came across a link to article this morning: “Why writing success takes more than just talent” http://essentialwriters.com/writing-success-3330.htm.
It was a very good article. It’s unfortunate my speech is decidedly stilted; I wish I had the vroom-vroom to really do it justice. However, I feel like if I don’t write this down now I just won’t.
The point of my wee posting is to pose the question of how writers find the motivation to continue to do what they love in spite of rejection, neglect, or inattention. Let’s face it–we could write our novels, poetry, etc. in a notebook, never share it with anyone, and still be writers.
Writing itself isn’t the sole motivation. Writers want validation and respect. We want an audience. So the questions become, “What’s your risk factor? What are you willing to do to get your beloved audience? Are you willing to toil for years without the benefit of a payout? Can you live in solitude, possibly forever, just for the chance to connect with a group of individuals in the hopes they like your work?”
Traditional publishing dictates writers must go through a rigorous chain of command to even hope to see the shadow of an audience. Editor. Agent. Publisher. A writer jumps through tiny razor fire hoops doused in gasoline, does nearly all of the work herself, accepts a pittance royalty, all in the hopes to stand out in a structure where she’s was only accepted because she looked just like all the other pets in the stable.
Non-traditional publishing, while exciting for control freaks like myself, is much like lottery ticket. Chances of winning an audience: 1 in 75 bazillion trillion plus infinity. A writer accepts the stigma of “You’re self published? Oh, then you’re not a real writer!” as she does all the work herself, never sees a royalty, only to find out the audience isn’t interested in someone who’s not already in their local Barnes and Noble.
Experimental publishing, online novels, blooks, web serials, or whatever you choose to name them, promise all the brain candy for nothing but time and maybe a donation. Unfortunately, the internet is flooded with them and the waters seem to keep the beloved audience at an uncomfortable distance. A writer sets up shop, posts her work online in the effort to connect without the pressure of middlemen and sticker shock, only to find everyone is a writer too and the audience ain’t buying it. Even for free.
(I added my drop to the flood this year after attempting the traditional, doing the non-traditional, and now subjecting myself to the experimental.)
So, what am I willing to do to get in bed with this elusive audience? And will I become a respected wife, secret lover, or an overly-used streetwalker?
And how, oh how, do I keep the motivation to do what seems like a thankless task? For every first-time writer jackpot winner (JK Rowling and Stephenie Meyer) there are millions of talented writers we never hear about. The truth is I might write for decades and never achieve any recognizable type of success. Ever.
Faced with this very possible future, can I really say I have the grapes to continue?
Some would say if you can’t shout, “Yes!” then you don’t have what it takes to be a writer. I respectfully disagree. I don’t have the answer yet, but like with so many things in life, this too swims in gray waters.
My answer changes daily. Sometimes I write just for the thrill of seeing my world come to life. Other times, I find myself brooding, thinking, “Whether I post today or not doesn’t even matter. Hell, I might as well go old school and write this in a notebook, call it a day, and save myself $12.95 a month.”
That being said, I often feel I would be happier if I could be satisfied with just writing. If I could take it back to its purest form and be pleased with just the process, then that would be success.
Maybe I will feel that tomorrow. Just not today.
So again–what are you willing to sacrifice to connect? Any answers?
Image Credits: infinity @ Stock.Xchng
I’ve missed Julian & Lily as well. I’m...