Happy Friday! Shelley here, once again, from Guam where I'm finding inspiration in the oddest places, like this moldering, broken balustrade overlooking the ocean from high atop a cliff covered in tangled vegetation and littered with trash--beverage containers, plastic bags, tattered towels, even a computer screen coming apart at the seams.
There must be a story here at the end of the narrow path winding through the overgrown lot. A former resort hotel? Or the vacation compound of a wealthy Japanese family destroyed in some long-ago typhoon? I could probably research and find out, but I'm not sure I want to. I'd much rather imagine.
Often there's a strange beauty in the broken things. A piquant nostalgia for what once was and could have been. An acknowledgment of a particular failure and the world and life moving on just the same.
JOY
Conflict--external or internal--is the heart of story. We put our characters through the proverbial wringer, squeezing the emotions from their arcs, pinning them up to dry on the narrative clothesline where they once again take shape, billowy like sheets or white, button-down shirts. They come off the line at the end of the day smelling like sunshine and grass with a faint, clean whiff of Ivory soap.
In our own creative journeys, we writers and artists also find ourselves conflicted. We are dumped into crucibles of our own making or of someone else's. The heat's turned up. We're bashed around. At this point, we must either adapt, change, or (metaphorically) die.
I recently went through an intense period of creative questioning, searching, and ultimately changing, fueled by reflection on the last several years which involved publication of two novels; social media engagement and marketing; disappointing royalty statements; learning how to use a graphic design app for making marketing materials like headers, social media images, and reels; an experiment with Facebook ads (these worked but I disliked the process); wrangling with an expensive website that required coddling and fixes too often for my liking; and countless hours reading and listening and studying and watching "experts" on the topics related to "selling your books" and the publishing industry in general.
My conclusions? Marketing makes me miserable. A creative life doesn't have to be this hard. A mailing list is key. The publishing industry is a hard, cold, capitalist business. A really, REALLY good book sells itself by word of mouth. Social media is a dumpster, and it's on fire every single second of every single day. A total waste of time.
My a-ha moment? When I remembered I got into this because of my love of books and my desire to craft stories. I realized nobody can "beat" me at THIS game, the game of writing (as opposed to the game of publishing.)
If I continue to write, I win.
If I continue to learn my craft and improve, I succeed.
This isn't a unique perspective. We've all heard it before, but when it hits you, really hits you, that you don't care anymore if you ever make a living from your writing, or even if you ever sell another copy of your book, you feel a particular and awesome joy. The joy of creativity, purpose, and play.
AM I JUST A LOSER?
I know what some of you are thinking (because I've thought it myself about myself and others. Yup. Not proud). People who have failed resort to this sort of thinking to make themselves feel better.
I nod and say in reply, Yeah. And what's wrong with that?
Is it more noble to feel terrible every day? Is it more worthwhile to pout and rail about the unfairness of life and publishing? Does it serve creativity to concentrate on failure and despair rather than joy? Is suffering somehow a better, more elevated outcome than happiness?
How perverted that perspective!
Given the choice, I'll take happiness in my creative life, thank you very much. Publishing's game continues on. Rules change. Someone's gonna "win" and many are gonna "lose," and I'll watch from over here on the sidelines, stoic and detached, while others fight it out. I'd rather concentrate on my craft--something within my control--and revel in this lightness I'm feeling.
I haven't felt this good about my writing life in several years. I'm listening to podcasts and reading articles on craft not on marketing. I'm enjoying the challenges of narrative structure, of thematic choices, and progressive plot complications. I'm about to rip my current short story to pieces and start all over again, and I DON'T CARE how long it takes me to get it right.
So, if you are struggling with these same dilemmas and are feeling like all this marketing and social media and striving are sucking the joy out of your creativity, consider setting all that aside, at least for now, and focusing just on the work for awhile.
When you've finished something, send it out and see if anyone bites. Then forget about it and get back to the page . . . where the joy lives.
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