Category: The Writing Life

So, here’s a thing.

Yesterday, I saw on Twitter a person I don’t know, but who had been retweeted by someone I do know, as is the custom on Twitter, complaining, bitterly, that authors who are on book tour should take a moment to think of those authors who would KILL to go on a book tour, but aren’t/can’t/won’t ever, before they start complaining about the Challenges of the Road. They, the writers on tour, need to understand how privileged they are, and how much it hurts the feelings of those authors who would KILL &c to see authors of book tours complaining about their good luck.

It was, in short, a call for someone who was having a particular experience, and reacting to it, to shut up already because they were somehow hurting people who were having a different experience.

Now, here’s the thing. Steve and I have been on (very minor) book tours, friends and colleagues have been on (rather major) book tours, and we can all tell you that it is not all fairy coaches, feasts, and acclaim.  There are good moments; meeting readers, and booksellers is always a treat, though traveling is a mixed blessing, especially since you usually only get to see the inside of bookstores, hotel rooms, escort cars, trains and/or planes.  Also, you’re far away from home; it’s unlikely you’re going to get any work done; it’s often a challenge to get a good meal; you won’t sleep well; and (in the case of some of our colleagues and friends) the focus of book tour planners is to hit as many venues as possible; the notion that the author might subscribe to human frailty isn’t always reflected in the itinerary.

In short, there’s a lot of material to talk about in re a book tour, should one happen to be undertaking such a thing. Most authors have a reader base, with whom they communicate, by blog, by Twitter, or Facebook, or Whatever.  And so we continue to communicate, it being just about the only thing we can do while touring.

Now, it seems to me that most writers on a book tour are talking to their readers and fans, and aren’t thinking about any one else, at all.  Perhaps this is wrong in them, but I’d say it’s human nature, really.

I also. . .think — honestly do think — that the writer whose feelings were damaged isn’t really thinking this thing through.

The writer on tour is giving valuable information about book tours. Before our first tour, we contacted friends and colleagues who had gone before and asked them what to expect, how to cope, what was normal; what was unacceptable; &c.

By reading the feed, or the blog, or the wall of a writer on tour, other writers are getting that information, live, as it happens.  This would seem to be a benefit, not only for the readers and fans of the writer on tour, but also for the whole community of writers, most especially those who aspire, some day, to be on tour.

So, that.

Tomorrow!  I will open the Sekrit Grab Bag of Questions and post my first answer.

If you have a question to ask — go here and do so.

So, a couple weeks ago, I read an article addressing the ever-fascinating topic of how to rise above the crowd of voices in SF/F, how to become  A Success, defined for the purposes of the article as an internationally recognized winner of awards and rich beyond your wildest dreams of avarice.

Followed a list of five-ish Things To Do, at least three of which we — by which I mean Steve Miller and Sharon Lee — had, so far as we know, invented.  At the very least, we were very early adopters.

I showed the article to Steve, and he nodded and said, “Yep, yeah; do all that.”

“I know we do all that,” I said.  “What I want to know is why we’re not A Success.”

And Steve lifted his index finger and pointed at the ceiling.

“Roof,” he said.  “Over head.”

Which, yanno, is fair enough, and a Good Reminder that Success is a moving target; it’s always ahead of you, and — pro tip! — you will never catch it.

Back when I was a baby writer, I thought success was selling a short story and seeing it published in a professional magazine.  And, in 1980, I hit Success dead-center.  I sold and saw published “A Matter of Ceremony,” to Amazing Stories.

Only. . .to really be A Success, I had to sell two more short stories to professional venues, so that I’d qualify for membership in the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, and be recognized as A Pro.

Well, I hit that Success, too, and then, it turned out that, to be a Solid Success and a Real Pro, one needed — absolutely needed — to write and sell a novel. Anyone can write short stories, after all.

. . .And we did that.  Then, we wrote and sold more novels, because anybody can write one novel, and to be A Success one needed a Body of Work.

And, then of course, to be A Real Success, instead of a tawdry wannabe success, one had to win awards!

. . .and. . .one had to teach!

. . .and. . .be important in the media!

. . .and. . .be Guests of Honor at science fiction conventions!  No, wait — at WorldCon!

. . .and. . .there’s Success, always ahead, dancing and laughing, and taunting.

So, the point of this — I really do have a point — is that Success — by which I mean Third-Party Success, envisioned by Someone Out There, and built according to their rules — is a mug’s game.  Worse, trying to catch Success opens you to the corrosive effects of envy, and self-dissatisfaction, which will leach happiness from your life, and joy from your relationships.

You’re better off — oh, so very much better off — setting your own goals, and celebrating each one that you achieve, without reference to what Other People are achieving, or what you “ought” to be achieving in order to be a “Real Success.”

This world is full of ways to make you unhappy and desperate (Once upon a time, an acquaintance said to me at a party, “So, I hear you have a new book out!”  “Yes,” I said excitedly.  “Have you read it?”  “No offense,” he answered, sipping his wine, “but I don’t have time to read good books.”).  Your job is to visualize your own happiness and success — and work toward those goals, joyously.

It’s not easy — nothing in this life is easy — but it’s worth the effort, in ways that chasing Success will never be.

. . .and now?

I need to clean the cat fountain — I keep cats because I enjoy the company of cats, and they make my life better, and they really prefer to have running water — and then I need to get to work.

See you on the flipside.