Choosing your path
Hello fellow writers--new writers, working writers, hopeful writers,
When goose girl first sold, Dean asked me, "What would you rather have happen--you book becomes a best seller and makes lots of money or is hugely critically acclaimed?" I answered the latter. But of course I had very little idea of the book world, the different shades of success and different kinds of writers at the time. I'm barely starting to learn. So, what kind of writer do you want to be? What kind of success? How much fame? What response would be ideal? I've had the opportunity to meet dozens of writers, and no two are the same. But here are four examples of writers who each published their first book the same year and where they are fifteen years later.
The Award Winner
She publishes three obscure little books before her fourth surprises everyone by getting the Newbery Medal. Suddenly she's in demand for speaking events, earning $2500 plus expenses for overnight trips to speak at conferences or presenting school assemblies. The extra money is good, because even with a Newbery she doesn't make enough money from book sales to live on. To some librarians and other book-savvy folk, she's a superstar, though most people have never heard of her or read any of her books. She continues to publish a book every year or two, critically acclaimed with modest sales, and never earns another major award.
The Best Seller
Her first book catches fire and she never looks back. Fifteen years later, every book with her name at the top still automatically hits the best seller lists. She's a household name and earns millions of dollars. Many critics mock her and she never wins a major award.
The Mid-Lister
She writes several books before finding a publisher for one and is overjoyed at the good news. Year after year, she publishes new books. None are best sellers, none win major awards, all do alright and she has a modest fan base. If she can keep publishing a book a year, she can write full time, if she lives modestly. When she attends book festivals and conferences, most people don't recognize her name. But her books keep selling just enough that the publisher isn't losing money on her, so she keeps writing them, chugging along, year after year.
The Life Changer
She publishes a book based on her own unique and tragic childhood. The reviews aren't great, the sales are dismal. After five years of trying to publish her second novel she gives up and resigns herself to sticking with her practical career as a teacher/librarian/businesswoman/lion tamer. But in a folder by her bed are twenty-two letters from young fans expressing how much they loved her book. One of them says, "I was a depressed loser with no future until I read your book. The story completely turned me around like nothing else could." Another says, "You saved my life. You literally saved my life. Thank you."
Which one do you want to be? I'd wager that your answer would be the same as mine--the happy one. But which one is the happy one? In my few years experience in this field, I've seen several examples of these types of writers and many others, and I've learned that none of them spell out either happiness or misery. There are no guarantees that any path will bring happiness. Because that's what these are--paths. Not ends. Finally getting your book published isn't the end, or becoming a best seller or winning an award or getting fan mail. They're all just part of the path.
So here's my Charlie-Brown-un-asked-for-two-bits-advice: Don't make a goal to be any of these. I've come to realize that the only thing useful to me is to make goals that are achievable, like writing a book, rewriting a book, sending it out there. It would be useless for me to pin my hopes of happiness on publication or any honors or celebrity that might happen after publication. I try to enjoy my life now, every moment, living it all, in the present. Work that book, work for the opportunity to share it, but never let that dream become everything. We want to be writers because we want to tell stories. Nothing else really matters.