Brittany: Of course it’s worth it
I strongly believe that being a writer is a strange cosmic gift that most people have no control over. The vast majority of people have no desire whatsoever to sit down and commune with a keyboard for hours on end in the pursuit of what will usually amount to minimal success. The cold hard truth is that most of us writers will never be rich or famous. We know it. The world knows it. But we do it anyway, because we can and we want to. We throw our writing out into the world and cross our fingers.
Back in the sixties, a couple of song writers wrote a song for Elvis called “A Little Less Conversation”. No doubt they were under a deadline. No doubt they worried about the feedback they were going to get on it. The probably spent several sleepless nights getting the song just right. And then they turned it over to the movie execs and it was out of their hands. It was written. It was on a record. They had to wait and see what would happen next.
The song was not exactly a smash hit. It went absolutely nowhere except the B-side graveyard.
No doubt Mac Davis and Billy Strange wondered if it was worth it, why they bothered, and all those other existentialist questions we writers ask ourselves in moments of frustration.
And then, in 2001, “A Little Less Conversation” made its way onto the “3000 Miles to Graceland” soundtrack. Since then, it’s been everywhere. In the clubs. On tv. It was even Howard Dean’s 2004 campaign song. You think Davis and Strange expected that? I seriously doubt it.
And who knows why it wasn’t successful in 1968? Maybe the lyrics were too provocative? Maybe the rhythm didn’t play well for contemporary listeners? Maybe it didn’t sound enough like “Hey Jude” – the number one song that year. Who knows why the universe is so fickle?
The point is that it took thirty-three years for the song to be a hit. But it was out there when audiences were ready for it. And it was out there because despite all the angst and grief associated with writing it, it got written anyway.
It’s a really catchy song, and one that got stuck in my head the last few days I was finishing up my novel. I found this story on Wikipedia while I was looking up the lyrics. Look up the lyrics sometime and tell me if those aren’t the very things you’d tell your muse if you could. In any case, the song inspired me to just keep plugging away. We never know what will happen to our words, but our words are timeless. They may not work today, but they might work tomorrow. And deep down I think we all realize this. This is why we keep working at it.
Studio Mothers: Life & Art 
Aww, thanks Brittany. 🙂 That helps.
I probably should’ve been clearer, though, taken the time to delineate between the writing (which, yes, was getting pulled down) and the jumping through hoops associated with hunting an agent/editor, selling a book, etc. That’s the part that’s frustrating me, that’s dragging the writing down. I’ve gotten 80-90 agent rejections, and I’m facing 80-90 more if I keep querying, which is what all the advice says to do. Do I really want to? Is this novel worth it?
When it comes down to it, we writers can be so supportive of each other, but sometimes what we need is so much more personal than I think anyone can provide, and the answer doesn’t seem to be coming from within. That is just so, so frustrating. And it can even make the writing itself seem NOT worth it, if you figure you’re just writing words down “only” for yourself when you could be doing other things.
I hope I don’t seem like I’m shooting you down here! Just wanted to clarify what I meant. The story about the song really DOES help – after reading it, I felt like I wanted to go back to my novella, when all I’ve wanted to do the rest of the week was walk away. (And you girls don’t know me that well yet, so you have no idea how much it takes to make me feel that way. I seriously underestimated the absolute head game that agent hunting is… it’s probably a lot like military boot camp…)
If you’ve finished a novel and have invested time in agent hunting, you’re way ahead of me. I keep getting side-tracked into nonfiction and journalism, which I also enjoy, but my true passion is fiction. I write because it’s a compulsion and it makes me happy, but of course I want to publish too!
I am just now learning the business end of the fiction publishing process, and have barely begun, so I’m certainly not one to offer advice. I did, however, meet one of my favorite authors, Kim Harrison, recently, and when she was asked what recommendations she had for new writers, she responded that the three most important things are:
1) Participate in a writers’ group (Have your work critiqued, hone your voice, and network with other writers.)
2) Write everyday.
3) Go to writers’ conferences
She said that she had submitted and been turned down countless times. In fact, she had submitted twice to the agent she has now and was pretty sure that he never even read her queries. Then, she had a fellow writer introduce her to him in person at a writers’ conference, and the rest is history. She found both her agent and her publisher that week, and all her years of writing finally paid off in a few days spent networking at a conference.
I found this post to be very inspiring Brittany. I don’t know, maybe because I haven’t done a lick of my creative writing this week (I did blog though!)… or maybe because my once high motivation tanked… but it really brings home the point. Although I want to be published, it isn’t for fame or money (well maybe a little… but I, like you, am an utter realistic). It is for the sake of writing. I can’t NOT write.
So, here’s to making it someday with our writing (raising my glass of water). Whether it be 30 years from now or tomorrow… we’ll make it! 😉
That was a fascinating story about “A little less conversation.” There’s a guy called Alfred Wegener who I wrote about in my book. He developed the theory of Continental Drift, and was roundly criticized for most of his life. He was hot on the heels of proving that it was true (insofar as one can do that in the language of science) when his friend asked him to come to Antarctica and set up a severe weather station and to deliver supplies to the people at an outpost. The trek took something like 40 days, there were 13 original people in the trek, and 11 turned back. Wegener made it with one other person, and he alone turned around after one day, not wanting to be a drain on the supplies by eating. He died of exertion on his way home. It took six decades to realize that his theory was right, and that of all the geologists out there, we teach about him more than anyone.
The man lived his entire life as a pariah. He wrote and wrote, and people ridiculed and ridiculed. The message I took from this, while writing about him, is the old adage, “Life’s a journey, not a destination.” It doesn’t matter if my book ever gets done. I’m just going to enjoy the ride. I really think, in the end, he must have enjoyed the ride. The ridicule that would have squashed others just made him try harder. And the sad thing was that he was ALMOST there.