This Is Not That Age

Dear Loyal Type M Reader. Shelley Burbank here on this lovely Friday afternoon, writing from Guam. 

I hope your January has gone okay. I know that doesn't sound very optimistic/enthusiastic, but the way things are going lately, it feels like the best we can hope for is "I'm okay. Are you okay? Do you need any support? Hugs? A giant glass of Chardonnay?" 

I'm okay. 

I was able to successfully upload my novella files to Amazon KDP. I've been wishy-washy about the idea of self-publishing, but I figured this 100-page mystery would be a good test of my ability to assimilate to the publishing landscape circa 2026. Dear Reader, I managed, and I'm happy to report that Strawberry Moon Mystery is officially visible on Amazon, available to pre-order, and the publication date is set for January 28! 

This is a mock-up of a Facebook ad that may end up as a post because . . . Facebook.

This entire Strawberry Moon operation is an experiment in self-publishing AND seeing if offering a shorter story at a lower price will tempt new readers to give Olivia Lively a chance to delight them. I'll keep you all posted on how it plays out for me as I do some but not a ton of marketing. My Facebook ad account is a whole 'nother topic. I made the graphic above using Canva. Facebook is giving me a bit of trouble because of my living in Guam. I just can't go into it right now. I don't have the fortitude. I'm tired of talking [whining] about Big Tech.

But I Have Something Good to Share Here

Sometimes I feel as if I'm being a "Debbie Downer" about the writing life, even though my motivation is to offer clarity, honesty, and realism about the state of publishing right now. I realize that my writer friends out there are all-too aware of the literary landscape, so I'm realizing maybe no one needs to hear me yammer on about it. 

Happily, there's something good that I'd like to share. With all this craziness going on in the industry right now and with me wondering, like SO MANY writers, if there is even a point of pursuing publication, I came to a realization: Even if nothing big ever comes of my writing and publishing life, I am GLAD, at nearly 60 years old, that I spent my life writing. It has been my passion for as long as I can remember. It's given me a focus to my life and so many hours of pleasurable work/practice that I can't be sorry I spent all the hours I did. I've also enjoyed meeting other writers, being part of the community. We learn with and from each other, and I'd like to take that to the next level in my remaining years. 

The biggest takeaway from all this is that I have no intention of stopping, even if there's nothing more in it for me than putting my work up on Amazon and ordering some Print On Demand copies for my own bookshelves. 

In other words, I'm once again approaching writing as an art and a craft, not a paying career. I'm giving up that dream. Artists create, even if no one "buys" it or admires it. Artisans create and strive for perfection, even if there's no real market for the pieces offered. 

For a long, long time I thought this was a cop-out attitude. "It's okay to write for pleasure" seemed like a phrase someone who wasn't serious about the writing craft or didn't have enough talent to succeed would throw out there. Now, I'm embracing this idea again, the writing for pleasure idea, only with one  important (I believe) caveat--storytellers need listeners, and listeners deserve the respect of our best efforts. 

It's not enough to write simply for our own pleasure. We should write with the reader in mind, even if that means one reader. Or two. Or a few hundred. In other words, we should still take our work seriously, the way any serious artist approaches their work, the blank paper, the mound of unformed clay, the musical notes dotting the staff lines, the wool in its raw and unspun state. 

Understanding I am part of a story-telling tradition stretching back thousands of years gives me pride and meaning and hope. It also adds a bit of pressure. Knowing I'm not working to SELL but rather to CREATE, I want to bring beautiful, meaningful books and stories into the world. Not just another throwaway, skim it and toss it, same old-same old book. Not some AI slop. I'm not saying my two novels are throwaways. These books did challenge me in the writing, they do have some thematic elements of which I'm happy, and they are written in a style that doesn't embarrass me. They are solid, decent genre fare. 

But is that the best I can do?

I don't think so. I think the books and the novella are the best I could do at the time, but now I'm excited to stretch even further, and with my new resolve, I can move forward now without having to worry about "writing to market" and current trends and all that jazz we are forced to consider when we actually think we can make money on this gig. 

In other words, I'm free. 

I've given up the stupid capitalist dream of making money from my writing. Yes, I said it. I've always believed in capitalism, but I'm beginning to feel the love of money IS the root of all evil. Some people DO succeed in having a paying career, but it's getting so much harder that honestly? I'd rather go back to worrying about craft and art and a solid style and having something to say...instead of marketing and PR and everything that goes along with trying to exchange story for dollar bills. 

Is This Failure Talking?

Have I simply failed? Maybe. Maybe I should care what everyone else (including you) thinks, but sorry. I don't. 

What I've learned--and what so many publishing insiders and professionals are talking about lately--is that I grew up smack at the apex of the "Golden Age of Publishing," a time when publishing houses gave out decent advances, nourished their authors' careers, and readers gobbled up books like candy. 

This is not that age.

The world has moved on, as Stephen King says in his Dark Tower series. The publishing world has moved on, the wheel has turned, and that is okay. 

I hope that by sharing my new resolve and outlook, others who may be feeling the same about the writing life and their chances of "making it" in this industry will be heartened or even inspired to continue the pursuit of the craft of creative writing, not for money or fame, but for joy of the craft and respect of the reader. Let's focus on crafting the most excellent books and stories and forget about sales and popularity.

Rediscovering the Joy of Writing

 

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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For more on creativity, purpose, and nurturing a creative life, check out my once-per-month, free newsletter, PINK DANDELIONS. This month's issue is below. Click to read.