Here is some news for you.
Porno Kitsch has done a pretty fly interview with me in which they asked some fairly tough questions (and in which I get to face the infamous “is this a D&D game gone wrong story” question). Check out Parts One and Two here.
Ari “Mammaries” Marmell and I are going head-to-head for the next week over at Babel Clash. Come watch the magic and mystery.
Please keep an eye on Amanda Rutter’s blog, since she’s been helping to organize a donation/charity auction for relief effort to Japan which many of us fine authors will be contributing to.
So, then…to business.
Hi. It’s a post about writing today. One that you might find useful, though. It occurs to me that we discuss the technical aspects of writing and getting published frequently, but we don’t always think about the mental and emotional aspects. This, I feel, is slightly dishonest of me, since those aspects are the ones I was least prepared for when I became published and I’d not want to wish the same mental torture I put myself through on anyone…well, maybe some people. All those people should stop reading here.
I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but it can be remarkably easy to get burned out on social media. Part of this reason, of course, is that becoming overwhelmed is simply inevitable when everyone is talking about similar things all the time. I think for those of us in the writing profession, though, there’s another aspect to it, one that can swiftly morph from burn out to resentment and outright loathing.
Envy.
It gets easier, but it never gets easy.
I’ve probably brought up this quote, that Joe Abercrombie once said to me, more than any other piece of advice I’ve ever been given. And there’s good reason for this: it’s astonishingly true. Getting published is difficult, sure, but being published can be a whole different animal. If you’ve ever attended a writing workshop or panel, you’ll probably have heard that the internet changed everything about being a writer. Having become a writer by the time the internet was ensconced firmly in most peoples’ lives, I couldn’t really say as to how much has changed, but I can tell you this.
It’s very easy to get personally involved with someone halfway across the world when you can talk to them in real-time. It’s easier for authors and readers, I think, because the art form is inherently personal: something written is something offered personally by the author and the reader connects with the author on a personal level. That’s what makes it work. That’s also what lends the relationship a degree of personal investment and all the emotions that come from it.
My editor Lou Anders once suggested that there are people out there that can admire an author and, at the same time, resent him for occupying space they feel they’re entitled to (I’m horribly paraphrasing this, he said it much more eloquently). This isn’t a broad, sweeping accusation, but I suspect there might be a ring of truth to it.
Largely because I’ve often felt it.
As I said, it’s remarkably easy to look at another author’s stellar reviews or awards or work or twitter followers or comments on their blog post or just the fact that someone said just the right word to them that you wish someone would say to you. It can be pretty intimidating to see it and fear tends to begin the spiral. The reactions go from “how am I going to compete with that” to “what makes him so special” to “I deserve it more.”
This can quickly lead to the resentment I mentioned earlier, where you find yourself irritated to hear of their success or to read their tweets or just to see them eat lunch because how dare they eat a burrito when you’re languishing under their oppressive heel!
Probably the worst about it? It’s totally natural. You’re not a freak for having felt that twinge of envy, that pang of resentment, that stroke of intimidation that has made you quiver in your computer chair. And you’re not a tramp for wanting attention, wanting people to look at you, wanting people to notice your writing.
But these are products of the art, things that will come to you when you write the best book you possibly can and hone it as much as you can. Everything you want will come from all that you should want: to tell your story.
The envy, the resentment, the intimidation are largely useless things because they all spawn from a largely useless emotion: fear. It’s one I revile and one I frequently find myself wallowing in. And it all starts with that fear that you’re not good enough to break into this competition and compete with the big dogs, woof woof.
And yet, it’s there, at the top of the spiral, where we tend to go wrong.
Writing isn’t really a competition.
There are awards, online polls, the occasional blog that asks you to cut open a goat and see who will be the true champion writer of whatever. These are fine for people who are interested in them, but they don’t change the fact that there is no such thing as a reader who will only read one book. No one has ever looked at Tome of the Undergates and The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms and said: “Well, shit, whichever one I don’t read now I’m going to ignore for the rest of my life, because that’s hardcore, baby.” And if there are people who’ve done that, they probably weren’t going to read your stuff, anyway.
And there will be people for whom your stuff just doesn’t work. That’s fine, too. It’s something you get to deal with. It sucks, of course, but “sucks” is not a really earth-shattering verb.
Because “sucks” does not take away from the art. “Sucks” does not change the fact that it’s the story you wanted to write. “Sucks” does not mean you’ll swear off writing forever. “Sucks” means that it sucks that this person didn’t dig your stuff. Maybe they’ll like whatever you do next. Maybe they won’t. But the people who will are the people you should keep in touch with.
I’m kind of writing this for myself, primarily, just to reassure myself that it’s not all that I make it out to be. I succumb to these emotions frequently. I’m getting better at it, of course. If you can take something away from this, so much the better.
And we end the same place we began: social media. Don’t look at it with fear and revulsion. Don’t look at other authors as challenges to be topped. Don’t look at people as commodities that either contribute or decrease your success. And don’t view success as being in limited quantity.
These are numbers.
If you were good with numbers, you’d probably be doing something that paid better.
Do you find that the whole anonymity of the interwebs allows people to say what they normally wouldnt because there is no fear of consequences?
Do you find that the whole anonymity of the interwebs allows people to say what they normally wouldnt because there is no fear of consequences?
I’m sure that has something to do with it. I’d hesitate to say that all anonymous people have no valid points, though. I’ve seen some good commentary (particularly one who brought up a very interesting point about my discussion about The Genre awhile back).
It’s kind of a self-defeating thing, though. Whatever snidery might be going on is not going to alleviate any sense of envy or resentment. And if they don’t want it alleviated…well, what exactly do you do for that?
That is assuming they are driven by feelings like jealousy and resentment. Sometimes its just the whole ‘haters gonna hate’ scenario.
I really enjoy being able to talk in real time with an author and i worry that the actions of the spiteful will ruin the opportunities provided by social media for everyone. It is one of those tools that can be easily misused (my tweet was totally unintentional…….) however, when used correctly it can provide unprecedented access to a fan base that just want to express their gratitude.
I wrote about this on my blog last year: http://www.adrianfaulkner.com/content/node/60
I was luckily advised about this very matter early on in what might be called a career. I’m not a jealous person but I know how easy it is to fall into the trap of professional jealousy. I made a point of congratulating people even when my inner ego was secretly wishing to stab pins in their eyes.
I’m glad I did because for the last couple of years I’ve felt genuinely pleased when friends and colleagues have succeeded even when I’ve not. If anything, instead of seething with envy I now find their accomplishments spur me on. I think that’s a healthy place to be.
You’re right, success isn’t limited in quantity. My perception is that there are more great writers out there than ever before, and that standards of sff publishing are very high. But this all brings more people to the genre, all of whom will be looking for slightly different things out of their reading matter.
Another point is that one really popular writer has the power to encourage more readers as a whole. So don’t be jealous of Terry Pratchett or J K Rowling for selling a humungous amount of books, because they have also turned a lot of people into regular readers. And those readers will finish their favourite authors’ books, and wonder where they’re going to get their next literary fix from in the six months to a year in between each novel.
Indeed! More diversity is always a good thing. And I don’t think an author can help but encourage people to read other books just by existing. I mean, I know I, after I finish a book, go into a voracious hunt for more to read. An author will always inspire that kind of hunger, whether he wants to or not.
…and I certainly want to.
Sam, you sound like you’re emerging slightly bruised from a recent emotional journey, and I’m about to be blunt – so brace yourself lest I damage your delicate butterfly wings.
Whilst I respect a man who shares their innermost fears and feelings of peer jealousy with anonymous readers as part of some personal catharsis, I have far more respect for an author who spends years writing and editing a bloody good book like the one I’m thoroughly enjoying at the moment.
It’s called the Tome of something-or-other.
I bought said book because I watched an internet video interview with some ugly, bearded dude who appeared to have such an incredible conviction about his manuscript and characters; I caught some of that fire and ordered the damn thing.
It arrived last week, albeit clad in some Andrzej Sapkowski inspired porno shot. Judging on how I’m enjoying it so far, I can almost guarantee I’ll be ordering the next book.
Ker-ching!
Seriously though, you’ve got one-and-a-half books to your name – and you’ve had your whole life so far to write that first book. Now is the critical time in your career that you need to stop looking around at other authors, and start really working hard to write more stories. Your agent, publisher and readers will love you for it.
Thanks very much for the kind words, but I’ve actually been feeling great lately. The Skybound Sea’s work has been continuing nicely, Black Halo comes out next week…it’s all good.
And I’d send that book back. It’s utter drivel written by a loathsome, hairy crybaby.
Attaboy!
That’s the first thing crossed off my list for the week… “cheer up Mr.Sykes”
Next is to cure cancer and forcibly get Terry Goodkind to stop writing. In that order.
Awards?
The porn industry has awards.
Critics?
The porn industry has critics.
As you can see, with me, it’s all about fucking, being fucked, and capturing the fucking.
You do it better than that, but the thought is the same.
Those whiny bitches didn’t fuck or get fucked, they only got to read the fucking you captured for them. They can suck it.
Should I add that, as Neil Geiman said to a reader whining about the lack of firm deadlines for another book by George RR Martin, “George RR Martin is not your bitch.”?
Now, I should think it goes without saying that Sam Sykes is not their bitch either.
Do not let the vicissitudes of social media lead you to believe anything about your work or yourself that is not true.
My two cents, and a whole lot of cursing.
Hah. I’ve never actually been really shaken by anyone who has ever attempted to make me shake. I mean, someone actually attempting, to my face, to make me feel bad just doesn’t work. I’ve never been the kind of guy that can take that all that seriously.
The biggest threat to a writer is the one we imagine.
Sam Sykes, the human. Who would have guessed?
As the unpublished writer, it never occurs to me to think about what will happen to my emotional turmoil when I actually get published. Its good to know that it will continue, in a slightly different skew. Continuity is good. Yup. Good.
Only until I shed my skin for impending mating season and slither upon my abdomen into the warm waters of coastal Australia to conduct the reproductive rituals with the females of my species.
But yes. Easier but never easy. Eventually, it will get to the point where it doesn’t matter as much and you will be stronger for it. Deep breaths. You got this.
Thank you for the post; that aspect does seem to be under-represented in all of the advice to wannabes and newlybes littering the net, and I found your take on it interesting.
I have a love/hate relationship with social media to begin with, and I agree that it can, if one isn’t careful, lead one down a futile road of comparisons. Since the internet is for all practical purposes infinite, if you like to beat up on yourself, there’s endless material out there with which to do it. It would be better to go write something.
The key is to never do anything you don’t want to. If social media is bumming you out, you’re probably not going to miss out on the deal of the century by going outside for a bit.