First things first: release day was a blast. And if you haven’t picked up The Agartes Epilogues trilogy over at Amazon.com for $2.99, there’s still time (if you want, that is. You don’t have to.)
I found this article last night that I thought was worth sharing:
http://nymag.com/thecut/2015/09/ask-polly-should-i-just-give-up-on-my-writing.html
“If you’re a writer or artist or creative person and your work is an arbitrary means to an end, you will not bring enough raw magic to your work to stand out from the crowd. There’s a reason a lot of your successful friends are “lovely odd ducks for whom you’d never predict bonkers mainstream success.” Those are people who do the work they love passionately, who bring the full force of their personalities to every project, and the world embraces them with equal passion. Those are not people who are trying to “connect” with some imagined audience. They’re fucking weirdos who are foisting their weird creations on the world without apology.”
It’s an excellent read. Go take a look, and then share it with your writer friends.
Writers and ego, man. Where do I start? I must’ve talked about it before. It goes without saying that this career (if you would even call it that) has exposed me to some very…interesting…people over the years. All sorts of flavours. Delusional folk who pretend their shit don’t stink and get offended if you don’t worship the ground they walk on. Also some very angry ones who would later go on to become famous for spreading vitriol over the interwebs.
But then there’s your basic writer who’s not really any of those things. I’m always excited to talk to other writers because there’s this great world we live in that I can’t readily share with most people around me. But at some point, it becomes obvious that the only thing they really want to talk about is their own writing, not writing in general. Ego. At some point, if you don’t acknowledge their genius, they move on–and that’s if they don’t start off by ignoring you in the first place.
I think one of the many lessons that young writers should get (in addition to “Learn to enjoy the wonders of canned food!” and “Clothes: making it last for decades!”) is how to manage ego. You need just enough so that you can continue writing your best, but not so much as to poison you and the waters you swim in. You certainly don’t want your ego throttling the people around you, especially if they’re other writers, too. In fact, when in doubt, go with a little less than a little more.
You need other writers. They’re the only ones who can understand you and there is room enough in the world for all of you. But you need to get over yourself, and then you need to find other writers who have also gotten over yourselves, and then together you figure out how to navigate this shitty, but oh-so-wonderful world we’ve found ourselves in.
I‘m blessed enough to be in a position where I’m surrounded by those people.
Perhaps it’s because we’ve all grown up together. Went from being wide-eyed, confused youngsters to aging crones who can’t wait to become even older. Every day, I wake up to messages of these guys who are as excited about the craft of writing as I am. To messages of love and hope, and also yes, acceptance and grim determination. We celebrate each others’ successes, or drink and complain about critics (which all writers do, don’t tell me otherwise…). We sit with each other when holes of depression open up in our lives, and tell each other to “Fuck them, fuck them all!” for comfort, and we laugh over our weird shit like there’s no tomorrow.
But I didn’t just wake up one day to this crew. It took a long time (over a decade) of acknowledging that my relationship with them was a lot more important than any perceived value I may have attached to my writing. They don’t always read my work when I put them out, and I certainly don’t harass them about not finishing it. I don’t force them to buy my books (“For support!”), and vice versa.
There is a lot of power in acceptance. In feeling like you have nothing to prove, that you are loved the way you are. And I think the first step towards that is to be like that yourself–start looking at other writers as people, not as potential readers whose noses you have to try to rub your work into.
If you want to survive any length of time in this brutal world, check your ego at the door.
