This morning, as I sipped my coffee (you will learn that coffee plays an integral role in the development of my posts), I contemplated the direction my life had taken over the last several months. In January of this year, I published the first issue of an online poetry magazine. Even though it struggles with attracting new poets, its readership continues to steadily increase. I administer two poetry prompt blogs and recently sponsored a poetry contest on one of them. These blogs also have a sizeable group of readers, but, again, neither has captured those elusive participants. And then, there’s my novel. A story that floated around in my head forever finally found its way onto paper. But have any of these pursuits been worth my time or effort?
No doubt, this sudden introspection evolved from receiving my first royalty statement for Tarnished Idols. In this regard, the word “nano” seems overly optimistic. Quite likely, the check won’t cover the cost of the electricity I’ll use to type this post. But I digress.
You can well imagine that my initial disappointment blew all the facts out of the water. FACT: the book had been available for a mere six weeks before the end of the sales quarter. FACT: The press release hadn’t even gone out yet. FACT: The amount of time I had to spend on promotion was, itself, of nano proportions. FACT: money was never the point … was it?
Those of us who engage in the literary arts should know this one thing above all else. Unless you are an incredibly gifted author with a huge public relations machine projecting your work and protecting your hindquarters, the likelihood of outward success is probably close to zero. There are hundreds of excellent writers out there who will, slowly but surely, find their way onto the bookshelves and eReader devices of the consumer. They’ll make their mark, create a name for themselves, and accrue a loyal following. But for the rest of us, that will probably not happen. And you know what? I’m okay with that.
For me, the act of writing is pursuing a lifelong dream. I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I spent years writing songs in the hopes of achieving musical stardom. When that didn’t materialize, I sporadically wrote poetry while writing bits and pieces of my novel. It wasn’t until last year that I finally had the opportunity to make these literary hopes a reality. Circumstances made it possible for me to spend my entire day engaged in the art of wordplay. While I’m sure, in the back of my mind, I saw myself on the cover of People Magazine for rocketing to the top of Oprah’s booklist, I never seriously expected that to happen. The outward success that all writers dream about is, unfortunately for most, just that – a dream.
You’ve probably noticed I’ve used the phrase “outward success” twice in this post. Not to minimize the impact of that kind of achievement, it’s only part of the picture. The biggest reward comes not from monetary gain, but from “inward success.” Every time I put words down on paper, I’ve created something. Words become thoughts which, in turn, become poems. Or words become sentences that tell a story which, in turn, become a book. It’s the act of really doing it that becomes the success.
After you’ve finished writing your poem, short story or novel, you have already touched one person’s life. Your own. Should others have an opportunity to read your work, then that becomes your second blessing. The first was engaging your brain to form something concrete with your unique gift of words.
So, when the big checks aren’t delivered to your mailbox and the media isn’t banging down your door, don’t waste too much time worrying about it. If you write because you want to retire early on your millions and crisscross the country in your luxury motor home, perhaps this is not the path you should follow. But if you write because you want to write and because you need to write, then let the writing itself become your ultimate goal.
No comments:
Post a Comment