Determination in the Face of No No No

The muse cannot resist a working writer, said science fiction author Ray Bradbury.

"OK. OK. But when will everyone else out there be smitten by my, surely, undeniable charms?" you may ask.

Part of the difficulty, of course, is that it is easy to confuse the muse with the marketplace. When a hard-working writer, such as yourself no doubt, hears mostly No No No from the marketplace, discouragement is easy and, to a great extent at least, thoroughly sane.

Who was the better singer? Frank Sinatra or Loretta Lynn? Pavarotti or Judy Garland? Or your Uncle Jim? The answer, of course, is that there is no answer. It could be argued that each was outstanding in his or her own sphere. Perhaps even your Uncle Jim in the sphere of his own bathtub.

It is difficult to be a poor writer in any genre and have sustained marketplace success. One-hit wonders are featured on talk shows and then they disappear.

But it is easy indeed to be a very good writer and not be much published. Emily Dickinson is the patron saint of this. There are others.  For instance, Stephen Leacock's first book, now forgotten, Elements of Political Science, was a standard university textbook for 20 years and made him more money than anything else he wrote.

In line with most of the rest of our lives as we live them, life is unfair. And, so, there is no necessary relationship, either lofty or earthbound, between art and sales.

When we look at success as a writer, we need to focus on the writing, not on the marketplace acceptance. Say that three times every day. And then three times more.

I am at a point myself where I can write a piece of flash fiction, a 450-word newspaper column or, saints preserve us, even a piece of light verse that rhymes and bumps along nicely, thank you very much. Not easily, mind you. And not Mark Twain or Stephen Leacock. But generally serviceable.

"So, do that," I say to myself. "People tell me they enjoyed reading this or that and they even, from time to time, ask me for advice.

At the same time, I am struggling with putting together a short story of a couple of thousand words. So far, I haven't been able to structure it properly even though, if I do say so myself, there are spots and segments that are pretty darn good.

I started the story "Bugs in the Grass" (position on best seller list pending actual publication) in 2017. I have had feedback, most of it wise and helpful and all of it thoughtful and appreciated.  from some of you and from some others. But I alternate between being worried and being convinced that my editing has sucked the life out of my latest version.

I believe, though, I have discovered a couple of things:

1. I haven't known who the protagonist of my story is. I know, I know, you'd think I would. It's embarrassing. But some of the supporting roles and character actors are just so fascinating. 
2. I didn't know if my story's objective is to let the light of wisdom shine through the narrative's humour. Or, whether my stubbornness about getting some of the concrete details both photographically and tonally right has been misplaced. I don't know - maybe I can, or should, do both. But I do know that I need to know what my target is.

So, I'm going at it again over the next few weeks. I'll get it yet.

And I will try my best to remember that one of his contemporaries said Leacock's humour was "destined not to endure" for "it is written in water."

Water indeed. 

The best I can say is that if you, like me, are wrestling with a piece that you believe has value, or soul, or heart, or truth - keep working.

I mean, Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles and Fahrenheit 451. C'mon.

Another Step in the Writer's Journey

Here are a few things that can happen -- insights, skill building as well as results -- when you write something. I will use my professional wrestling light verse mentioned in the previous post as an example of the good things that might happen. 

But first.

Some time ago, I wrote a deservedly unpublished piece about men I have known who use the diminutive of their name -- Jimmy, for instance -- way past the best-before date. I thought it was a clever cultural comment. Turned out, it wasn't. For at least three reasons that made themselves clear to me. 

First, there are some cultures where it is commonplace and, believe me, very acceptable. To have called Jimmy "Jim" would have been the equivalent of calling him "George" or "Hey you", or worse. 

Second, for some it is a mark of warm affection bestowed by others. As in, "What a great guy Johnny is."

Third, some men give themselves a "y" name. Our neighbour, "Ulysses William, was always called "Billy" by his family and himself.

The piece I worked hard on over many drafts (Discipline) was received by two Writing Groups with some respect for its structure and wording and so forth (Mastery) but it just didn't connect (Chemistry). They fulfilled their Community membership by letting me know their supportive but lukewarm reception, and I fulfilled mine by sharing the piece with them, listening to them, and weighing what they had to say.

On the other hand, and example of the good stuff that can happen when a developing writer such as myself ventures outside the boundaries of what "everyone agrees" is likely or even feasible.

After considerable effort (see previous post) I was able to shorten the "Wrestling" piece to 450 words. In the seemingly endless process (Discipline), I discovered I was writing more about my father and my relationship with him than about the actual wrestling match. This required some finagling (if that's a word) to be true to the lighthearted nature of the piece, and my father, and myself. (Mastery).

The piece was a combination of brief introductory prose and light verse. There are no boxes to tick on any publishers submission form for such a combination. This publishing fact was reinforced by both Writing Groups (Community). I listened but decided to forge ahead anyway because it felt write. (Delusion isn't a category, but often should be).
I ended up writing a 450 word Guest Column accepted by a local newspaper, The Sarnia Journal. The editor informed me that he was accepting it even though they almost never accept verse. But he liked it. And, ta da, there was a Letter to the Editor (my second ever) from a woman who said she didn't like wrestling but she admired the piece (Chemistry) enough to go to the trouble of writing a letter.

So, from all this I think I have learned that:

• Technical proficiency, while often the prominent reason our work connects with readers, isn't always the only reason.
• Pieces written outside established categories ( for example, prose plus verse) is risky if the goal is to be published by someone else. At the same time, it may be the right thing to do from the sole vantage of the work itself
•  We often uncover our hearts in the process of writing something, even light verse about professional wrestling. Even if we thought we knew what we meant to write about.

Continued progress and good fortune in both our journeys.