I often feel this way. I've had successes and many rejections. I have to write for myself. There are so many books being written and published, more than ever before--and each book can be read by as many as want to. So the more people there are doesn't mean the greater audience. I know it's harder than it used to be. Small comfort but there is no other.
This struggle never ends, but I think it's all ego, at least it is for me. When I'm able to remind myself that the writing is less about me and more about service--to laughs, to curiosity, to collective creativity--then it's easier to define success as something other than good reviews and big paydays and other things that are ultimately masturbatory.
I have a habit of quitting writing forever. But I keep picking it up again because I can't stand not to.
I've had some positive feedback, both from workshops and from agents, on my current novel, so I have hope that it will be published - and I intend to do the work to make that happen, and to learn everything I can about promoting it - but when I allow hope to become expectation, I'm setting myself up for an emotional collapse. I'm in my early 70s; I don't have time to quit writing forever again.
I notice that I often sit in the weeds during the summer and perk up again in the fall, slump again in the early winter and perk up again in the spring. Maybe that's my rhythm. I'm slumping now, can't touch my novel revisions for some reason. I've never been good at forcing myself.
So I'm following the fun - playing with short story ideas I sketched out in the past and then set aside. I'm grateful to have things I started and didn't finish - I need them now in a way I didn't when I put them down. I'll give them away if I can find an outlet, just to close the writer-reader circuit. And I have at least one more novel clamoring to escape. Maybe two. And notes piling up. Maybe another story or two as well. To have projects ahead of me - that, to me, is wealth.
When I was considering quitting, years ago, I thought about the millions of wanna be actors in LA; How many of those hopefuls actually make it? Such a tiny percentage. Oddly, that helped me realize I was wrong to feel slighted and cheated by fate if I never got a book deal. (Ironically, right after that I started getting traction with editors.)
I often feel this way. I've had successes and many rejections. I have to write for myself. There are so many books being written and published, more than ever before--and each book can be read by as many as want to. So the more people there are doesn't mean the greater audience. I know it's harder than it used to be. Small comfort but there is no other.
This struggle never ends, but I think it's all ego, at least it is for me. When I'm able to remind myself that the writing is less about me and more about service--to laughs, to curiosity, to collective creativity--then it's easier to define success as something other than good reviews and big paydays and other things that are ultimately masturbatory.
On point, but oh the ego…!
Love this. I agree - sometimes it's okay to just breathe and be receptive. Beautiful newsletter, as always.
I have a habit of quitting writing forever. But I keep picking it up again because I can't stand not to.
I've had some positive feedback, both from workshops and from agents, on my current novel, so I have hope that it will be published - and I intend to do the work to make that happen, and to learn everything I can about promoting it - but when I allow hope to become expectation, I'm setting myself up for an emotional collapse. I'm in my early 70s; I don't have time to quit writing forever again.
I notice that I often sit in the weeds during the summer and perk up again in the fall, slump again in the early winter and perk up again in the spring. Maybe that's my rhythm. I'm slumping now, can't touch my novel revisions for some reason. I've never been good at forcing myself.
So I'm following the fun - playing with short story ideas I sketched out in the past and then set aside. I'm grateful to have things I started and didn't finish - I need them now in a way I didn't when I put them down. I'll give them away if I can find an outlet, just to close the writer-reader circuit. And I have at least one more novel clamoring to escape. Maybe two. And notes piling up. Maybe another story or two as well. To have projects ahead of me - that, to me, is wealth.
I really like the idea of “following the fun.” Sometimes that’s actually what we need, more than simply slogging away.
When I was considering quitting, years ago, I thought about the millions of wanna be actors in LA; How many of those hopefuls actually make it? Such a tiny percentage. Oddly, that helped me realize I was wrong to feel slighted and cheated by fate if I never got a book deal. (Ironically, right after that I started getting traction with editors.)
Congratulations on the positive review.
I've heard others say that friends and family are not who buy their books. Good luck.