A Stroll Through the Desert.

Many moons ago, I read a snarky article on what was required to become an author.  It state that to be an author you needed one of three things: To be famous for something else, to be rich, or to have connections within the publishing industry.

I laughed at the article, certain it was a carefully crafted satire meant to amuse and inspire.  Writing is meritocracy at its finest!  Success goes only to those with the right alchemical mixture of desire, skill, and work ethic.  To the best manuscripts go the spoils!  

I laugh at the article now, but I’m not laughing at the biting sarcasm or frank admissions of hard truths I was too naive to accept.  I’m laughing the bitter laugh of one who has finally glimpsed reality after being smacked in the face with it repeatedly.  Kameron Hurley wrote a jewel of an article about accepting the realities of publishing for Locus in 2016.  I cannot recommend it enough, because her path towards publication was a Lemony Snicket series of events narrowly overcome by the connections she had meticulously built.  The subsequent opportunities they provided allowed luck to break her way, and the rest of us received the gift of all the butt-kicking stories which have followed.  

Mrs. Hurley found success not because her work was exceptional (it is) but because of the relationships within the publishing industry that she had grown.  Her work had been rejected repeatedly despite being award-winning quality right up until it was finally published, and her own story serves to drive home the message she shares: Build connections and prepare for a long, hard slog. 

If all you’re doing with your career is focusing on writing a ‘great’ book, it isn’t going to be enough because that’s not how modern publication works.  You have to approach writing on multiple fronts, and while you cannot neglect personal growth to achieve success, you also cannot focus on it exclusively.  You have to build connections.  Not just shallow business contacts who might or might not do you that solid.  True, lasting friendships which may never pay a dividend, but are just as vital as all the time you spend writing and editing and studying.

It is time that all of us (myself especially) stop focusing  upon producing ‘good’ work to the exclusion of all else and start trying to build the relationships and connections which will give me more chances to find success.  This week, I had a moment of crisis about my own lack of progress.  I’ve been an author for three years, and despite all I’ve accomplished, I’ll share with you the gist of my internal monologue.  I’m betting it’s a familiar tune, even if the notes are a bit different:

‘I am the worst.  This is the worst.  I’ve been at this three years and each publication is less read than the last.  Writing will never love me back, no matter how much time I sacrifice for it.  I should just quit because all this is doing is making me tired and angry.  I would be better off doing literally anything else.’

In all the time I’ve invested in my career, I hadn’t fully reckoned with the harsh realities of breaking into the publication industry.  I was reaching my limit, and last week I slammed face-first into the burnout Mrs. Hurley mentions.  A silent reception is the hardest burden for an author to bear, because silence equals failure.

All that I can do, all that any of us who wander the lonely sands between oases can do, is refuse to quit.  That’s the whole secret, the single trump card that can power through even the harshest desert; refuse to admit defeat.  Then, when the wind settles, we shall be left standing even though we should not be able to; 

Not unbroken, just unbowed.  

Sandfully,

The Unsheathed Quill