The Speech That All Writers Need To Hear

This has brought tears to my eyes thank you for bringing it to my attention. I am having a tough time writing wise this last month having been let down by writing competitions not once but three times where the organisors have changed the rules after submission. Followed by a reject for a novel.
So this has been heaven sent and is very inspirational. I am off to dust myself down and get writing for me not the market.
Thanks again

Thank you, Jane. Inspirational. And very timely for me still stuck in that tunnel with no light in sight.

second what Sally says about the verifications – it’s like some malicious demon of the interweb has taken a giant cropping tool to every letter.

I’m not sure I found this 100% inspirational – partly because I’m in one of those sloughs of despond about my own writing (I spend too much time hanging out with people much better than me), but I did relate to many of the points, and there is (I’ll get there) a really serious and good overall point she makes. In particular I relate to the “in between” phase. That endless grind of getting nowhere: where other people’s nice words actually make it worse (OK, if I’m useless fine, but if you think I’m OK why is no one interested? Stop taunting me – tell me I’m cr*p or show me the money, but quit the platitudes! – you know the kind of thing you feel)- in my case doing shows, getting lovely write-ups and slaps on the back (last year I got the loveliest compliment imaginable when the redoutable first lady of smut Molly Parkin gushed over one of my stories), then nothing. So you ask to do another show. Door slammed. Eventually you get another gig. Fabulous write-up. Then nothing. You ask to do more shows. No answer. Yes, objectively the increments are there – it’s like losing weight (which I’m also doing, which may explain my crabbiness ). Someone who sees you once a year says my goodness you’ve changed, but you never see a difference. – but they are so small. And one thing never leads to another (“Oh, I read your piece in 3:am how wonderful, do you fancy writing a piece for us”; “ooh, I saw you read at Rough Trade, why don’t you come and read at our festival” – it just doesn’t happen. In so many success stories you hear “ah, the xyz was a stepping stone to success” “I was picked up after someone saw the work I’d done for abc” – we need to remember that we mustn’t assume achieving abc and xyz will lead to such stepping stones – that would be reversing the causality and BAD SCIENCE – and liable to lead to chips on shoulders) so you keep up the persistent widow thing and some people eventually take pity but you get the impression it’s only to shut you up. The local paper happily does a full colour splash about the bloke who self-published his Tuscan holiday diary but won’t even answer no to your press releases.

It’s a phase I know very well from my band friends – you make whizzy progress until you hit the stage where you can get gigs if you’re persistent enough and do all the promotion yourselves. But then no matter how many demos you cut in whatever kind of studio, you’ll play the same gigs in the same place for years, and you’ll get lovely write-ups that furnish you with lovely quotes to put on your myspace and press pack that no one will read. And maybe one day a producer will see you or BBC Introducing will take pity on you. But probably they won’t.

For those of us who write “literary” fiction, of course, it’s 99% our own fault.

But literary fiction *does* get noticed. Occasionally. Plug – http://eightcuts.com/events/eight-cuts-live-at-the-o3-gallery/exchange-trip/ Thursday 10th Feb we have a super event in Oxford with readings and Q&A from 5 writers of literary fiction who DID make it, and recently signed contracts – including Nikesh Shukla who got a Costa nomination and Lee Rourke who won the Guardian’s Not the Booker Prize – it’ll be a fantastic chance to see what it takes, and remind ourselves there’s hope even outside commercial fiction.

But one of the most frustrating things is meeting and chatting to these people, doing readings with them where your pieces seem equally well-received as theirs, and wondering “what makes them different?”. It’s easier when you can see what the difference is. But you get to a point where there isn’t really one.

And that’s where the positive message of the Zoe’s piece comes in – because actually the only answer is to plug away. And plug away. And accept that in 20 years’ time you’ll still be playing the same gigs and picking up the same notices – but that if you don’t play them, you sure as heck will *never* make it. And hope the sanity and bank account just about stay the right side of the line in the meanwhile.

Thank you for a place to vent. I feel very much better now Oh, and in case you’re wondering – I lost 5 pounds in January

Sigh, yes I read that earlier Jane – and yes, everyone should read it. Oh well, back to arranging cat hairs on the pages.
PS Must admit the verification cat hairs are rather hard to read.