I had never heard of the comparison to schizophrenics, but reading it I was reminded of something. When I was younger (this tapered off as time went on), I used to narrate my own life in my head, often “rewriting” the same sentence until the phrasing was perfect or I had the best metaphor (for a while I thought good writing = good metaphors and would spend much of my mental powers on such).
Which is to say, yes, schizophrenia rings a bell 🙈
And as a second childhood story, the only time I ever cut school as a youngster I went to the local library, of all places. This was probably 30 years ago, but I still remember the chair I sat in all day (until the librarian looked at me with a different kind of awe) and the books I read (mainly Roald Dahl).
I don't think there really is such a comparison. I was only trying to be funny. But it does seem as though writers are of different personalities at different times. We kind of have to be depending on what we are writing at the time.
Good stuff as usual from Joe. Regarding the Bible quote, I can't resist sharing this from Miguel de Unamuno, the great Spanish--actually Basque--writer and philosopher: "For though it is written that whosoever humbles himself shall be exalted, it does not say that he will be exalted who humbles himself with an eye to exaltation."
Thanks, Joe, for another thoughtful essay. Interesting diversity in the comments, as well. Art, as I recall, began in ancient times as a holy endeavor, but that was long ago and faraway, and only a heavenly reward, not a year-end bonus or higher sales was sought.
Some behavior produces its own reward (whether writing or otherwise). An interesting thing happens when external reward is applied to automatic, self-rewarding behavior; interest and pleasure wane. A standard line in a film might be the ball player who says, "You know, I used to love this game."
What is a writer without an ego? I call it writing. Not thinking about writing, not pursuing a goal, not wanting to show anyone. Writing. When I stop writing, then the ego returns, and ideas about what to do with it and who to show it to emerge. That's also when suffering returns.
The only question for me is how entangled I want to be with ego. Writing can be a means to an end. For some the pursuit is worthwhile, to varying degrees, in actuality (money, status), or for the pleasure of selling and pursuing (some love that, on its own terms). For others, the personal payoff is the better deal.
Yes, a very interesting diversity in the comments. Some commenters admit to a certain amount of ego that keeps them going. Others do not, although it's hard to say that without sounding egotistical — I am proud of my humility. I think the diversity actually comes from what each of us considers to be the definition of ego. When I talk about a writer's ego, I'm not suggesting that a writer with an ego is an egomaniac or a narcissist, but simply that a writer can (and should) have pride in his or her ability and, in today's all-business-all-the-time world, needs to have a certain amount of that quality in order to keep going in the face of rejection and criticism. Basically I meant it as a belief in oneself. Maybe I should not have used the word "ego," although my layperson's understanding of the term, as the part of the psyche that balances the id and the superego, seems right. And my comments should be taken in the context of writers who believe they should be fairly compensated when they are published. Those who prefer not to participate in the marketplace are a different story. But we live in a capitalist society (some might even call it the ultimate capitalist society), and if you choose to participate that means that every endeavor, artistic or commercial, has a value, and the marketplace decides what that value is (not necessarily fairly). The result of that decision determines the ability of artists to support themselves. I wish it were otherwise. But the marketplace has never valued art as art, only as commodity. The "artistic" value is for history to decide. And since every aspect of our lives in a capitalist society is attached to this dynamic every artist must decide whether to live in that world or not. A lot of artists think they can participate in the marketplace without compensation — they either have other means of support or don't mind living in poverty. But this attitude affects others as much as themselves by maintaining the lack of fair compensation in the industry, and I believe those artists must take responsibility for that. This, I believe, is the subtext of what Ettarh was getting at in her essay — if the people who participate in that activity allow bad working conditions and pay to persist in the name of their "calling," they need to consider not just themselves, but how their belief affects others. And I know I am getting into another topic entirely, so I will stop here. But I hope to continue to address this issue in future posts. I'm looking forward to doing research on this. There are quite a few perspectives to consider.
In my draft comment, I started with "ego," a term with a number of meanings and nuances. I opted for the Merriam version: the self contrasted with other selves or the world. Then changed to "art" and writing motivators for my comment. I missed a little emphasis.
In your context, the writer seeking fair compensation when published would find self-confidence, self-assurance, etc., applicable, easily. Pride bolsters that confidence and assurance. It's a smart thing to do, play what's offered rather than hold out for a better game. I wouldn't blame anyone for that pursuit.
Your comment that those who participate minimally have a responsibility in maintaining the lack of fair compensation in the industry was interesting. I had a number of thoughts, but also saw you'll be addressing this in a future essay, so I'd rather hear what you have to say than push on that any. Your vision is clear, Joe, and I anticipate a further exploration of this topic.
Ettarh's essay was well-considered, but I would agree that looking at it would take us farther afield here. That it supports what you wrote in your essay is without doubt.
Oh, my vision is far from clear on this. And I know that idea will probably get a lot of pushback. So I am going to do as much research as possible before I post an essay on it. Like most of my observations and opinions about aspects of the writing life I try not to limit myself to only writing philosophy, but to be more interdisciplinary about it. Outside factors like the economy and politics and culture affect what we do as writers, even if we try to stay true to our artistic intent. I'll be looking at all that and more.
Thanks for the link to the librarian essay. I had no idea they saw themselves as the elite elect. It explains a lot and means Philip Larkin is even stranger than we already knew.
The post seems to be about success as a writer and that is fair because it's a job and a business. 'No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money' said Samuel Johnson, which is ironic conserving how poor he was for most of his life. But he kept at it, well, because he was good at it and enjoyed the company of words which may be why many persist.
To be a writer, to use economic jargon, has a low barrier to entry apart from a basic grasp of grammar. There are millions of writers from Sunday poets to diarists to professionals published by the big 5.
It may be that many writers feel self-important to sustain themselves but it is a vain waste of time. It's more important what readers feel about the work, rather than a smug group sense of status.
I suppose my enjoyment of the company of words is a big part of why I continue to write in one form or another. The combination, and therefore the possibilities that words offer, are infinite.
Great one, Joe. Ms. Fitzgerald wrote she detected 'an element of bitterness' in your essay. I certainly experience that. Bitterness, or resentment, when I read a short story or novel that I found awful and yet was published. Just read a novel, with three front pages of glowing reviews and praise for the writer. The novel was terrible, only read half of it before I gave up.
I've reached the point in my 'writing career' where I can just dismiss the next rejection with an "Ah screw you, anyway" attitude. It's all bewildering, trying to figure out what will work, but I still believe in myself, my writing. My ego takes a beating. I grow discouraged, but I always hope, the next one...This will be the one...
Every three weeks I spend an enjoyable hour at my local library browsing the shelves for new and old books to read. Libraries are a place of hope and promise.
Hope is what keeps us going, I dare say, and hope is a very healthy thing. Experts say being hopeful is right up there with exercise, diet, sleep, for longevity. So I'll keep writing and hoping, and maybe one day...
"Bitterness, or resentment, when I read a short story or novel that I found awful and yet was published." Some people would look at that statement and see jealousy. But I know that's not where you (or I) are coming from. The whole point of vocational awe is that we view what we do with a reverence, and our disappointment is that we feel much published writing doesn't share that reverence, but instead attaches to trends and tropes that are marketable.
I wouldn't describe myself as a martyr but I don't write for $ or fame. In part it's a compulsion: to say things well, to offer images & metaphors that share my view of the world.
Gertrude Stein said writing was about good sentences, but for me it's about words. I love words, wordplay, the way they can rhyme & echo & surprise. And finding the words to create a character's perceptions & milieu & attitudes, makes them unique.
My ambition, if I can even call it that (as a non- competitive person) is for people to read my books & find something worthwhile there. Is that so much to ask?
A century ago I think I would have been a mid-list author at a decent publishing house, but that infrastructure is gone - now it's about being loud, credentialed, and knowing the right people. Charm helps (when they were handing out charm I didn't get any).
But I keep writing anyway - that's my remit as an April Fool. I reject the term martyr because that doesn't sound like fun at all.
I had to chuckle when I saw, "My ambition...is for people to read my books & find something worthwhile there. Is that so much to ask?" I have long felt the same way. Apparently it is too much to ask.
Joe, I couldn’t agree with you more about the writing life. Every day, I wake up and think, “What in the hell am I doing?” But … I keep writing. And the older I get (in my 60’s), the more I realize that writing is all about—trite as it may sound—process, and that process is religion-like. I’ve gone to self-publishing (I know, shame on me) and I’m really loving it. Btw: I really do look forward to reading your posts each week. Thank you.
Deb, there's no shame in self publishing anymore. I ought to know. That's the part of writing that butts up against the rest of the world. But when it comes to the actual writing itself, you are right, it is very much like a religion, and that is extremely personal.
Another great essay. Personally, my ego won't allow me to call myself a writer. When asked, I tell the person "I write". Often—not always—the other person will ask about what I write about...and I tell them a little, not much because talking about myself can be boring...to the other person.
I didn't always write, having had a number of "successful" careers before I started to write. And this has given me many stories. While I have had more than my share of acceptances, I have also had way more than my share of rejections—probably well over 1,000 since I began writing a little over 3 years ago. Students today are not taught how to accept rejection, as in schools today every student "wins", preparing future writers to fail.
Write about what moves you, not for any specific publication, because editors prioritize their personal tastes above truly good writing. And identity, even though almost all publications ask that you not identify yourself on your ms, is too easily known. I read a prize-winning story in a very prestigious publication and guessed after reading the first sentence the identity of the writer. I googled her...and I was right.
"You can’t write well if you’re thinking about yourself or the greatness of your writing and how it deserves recognition, and yet you have to maintain some ego about it, even if it’s just to complete the work." 100% on the nose.
I look froward to Saturday when I know that one of your essays will be waiting for me.
In the years since my friend and I harbored those self-indulgent thoughts, I have changed. Like you, when someone asks me what I do I tend to downplay my writing career, much to the displeasure of my wife, who then steps in and does the promotion for me.
You mentioned, "Write about what moves you." That's another realization I have ultimately come to. Trying to shape one's writing to fit a particular style or trend never works.
Glad to hear you look forward to these posts. Support like that is what makes it worthwhile.
Oh dear. I'm reading something that sounds like an element of bitterness in the subtext of your post today, Joe. So, 'whad'up dog?' -- as we say in the hood.
That wasn't my intention, Karen, but if that comes through I suppose there is some resentment. Mostly I was intrigued by the idea of Fobazi Ettarh’s Vocational Awe and wanted to explore it. I actually didn't want to focus on personal motivation, but to talk about the wider idea of our art as a sort of holy endeavor, which can lead to writers and artists accepting a lack of the rewards that other fields have.
I'm going to be thinking lots about this, Joe: "art as a sort of holy endeavor". Glad you qualified it w/ that prepositional phrase. I'll be back. Must give this a big think, me being aligned with principles of wu wei taoism and an adept at Zuowang meditation. (That's wu wei, not woo-woo.)
OK, so if I'm going to be hangin' out with all your very erudite discussants here in Beyond Craft, allow me this big, self-reveal. Put "The Karen Disorder" in your browser & you'll learn more about me than you'll ever care to know. It should take you to an essay in the AutoEthnographer.
Ah, LindaAnn. This is where I first met you! If not for Joe, I wouldn't be resurrecting the goth within. As for all these authorial syndromes: martyr, imposter, schizoid. . . . geeze--- I'm a writer whose identity is stuck in the pre-Freudian era. Not that I don't suffer all sortsa' insecurities but I guess I'm too old to care much about anything publishers say or don't say about my work. Grateful am I that my blood still circulates enough to feel a shred of disappointment over a rejection & a heart fibrillation at an acceptance. 😊
As to rejections, when they come, the only "regret" I have is that I wasted my time on lit-mag A when I might have had a better outcome with lit-mag B or lit-mag C. It doesn't pay to weep or gripe over a rejection; in 2 yrs that lit-mag will be on hiatus & by 3 1/2 yrs the website will be gone. 🧛 🦇 🎦 Karen, I posted the full movie version of "DRACULA" today. 🧛🦇 Done by the BBC, it's supposed to be the version most faithful to Stoker's novel. Next week, I'll be discussing Transylvania (in Stoker) - - how it functions as a liminal space.
Joe, never did I open my composition book (those 7" x 10" black-white covered composition books used in elementary school - - ready to receive my scribble) and think, "Pages, you're lucky I showed up today!" Though I do receive acceptances every week, I have no illusions about my worth to the world. Unless a writer receives a major award, no library card will be made, no legacy will be left. Most of what we write will never be read, much less remembered. I still love what I do.
LindaAnn you are fortunate that you don't have to wrestle with these conflicting emotions. As you can see by the other comments, many of us do. I don't think it's a personal failing, tho. Much of it is dependent on what we believe others expect from us.
RE: "what others expect from us" - - well, that's a luxury. LOL No one cares if I write - - or don't write. No one monitors my (ahem) "writing career." My childhood experiences taught me not to expect that my parents would fuss over me. Joe, I may have mentioned here that my plays started to be onstage in NYC from when I was 9 years old. Even though my mother was a stay-at-home-Mom, she never attended any performances. Fortunately, strangers came and filled all the seats. In general, I think false expectations can lead some people astray. Taking pleasure in completing the work . . . that is its own reward.
Joe, this hit home in such a profound way today. I’ve been wrestling with that 'martyr ego' you describe—that tension between the desire for validation and the sacred, quiet act of writing itself. Your point about being 'everything and nothing at once' is a perfect description of the writer’s soul. Thank you for reminding us that while the ego gets us to the finish line, it’s the humility that makes the work worth reading. A truly necessary reflection.
Thanks. It's a difficult set of emotions that we have to manage. The pressures of the world, and what others expect from us, have a lot to do with that.
Hi Joe!
2 things:
I had never heard of the comparison to schizophrenics, but reading it I was reminded of something. When I was younger (this tapered off as time went on), I used to narrate my own life in my head, often “rewriting” the same sentence until the phrasing was perfect or I had the best metaphor (for a while I thought good writing = good metaphors and would spend much of my mental powers on such).
Which is to say, yes, schizophrenia rings a bell 🙈
And as a second childhood story, the only time I ever cut school as a youngster I went to the local library, of all places. This was probably 30 years ago, but I still remember the chair I sat in all day (until the librarian looked at me with a different kind of awe) and the books I read (mainly Roald Dahl).
Ah to be young and free and in a library.
I don't think there really is such a comparison. I was only trying to be funny. But it does seem as though writers are of different personalities at different times. We kind of have to be depending on what we are writing at the time.
Good stuff as usual from Joe. Regarding the Bible quote, I can't resist sharing this from Miguel de Unamuno, the great Spanish--actually Basque--writer and philosopher: "For though it is written that whosoever humbles himself shall be exalted, it does not say that he will be exalted who humbles himself with an eye to exaltation."
A necessary addendum for these times.
Thanks, Joe, for another thoughtful essay. Interesting diversity in the comments, as well. Art, as I recall, began in ancient times as a holy endeavor, but that was long ago and faraway, and only a heavenly reward, not a year-end bonus or higher sales was sought.
Some behavior produces its own reward (whether writing or otherwise). An interesting thing happens when external reward is applied to automatic, self-rewarding behavior; interest and pleasure wane. A standard line in a film might be the ball player who says, "You know, I used to love this game."
What is a writer without an ego? I call it writing. Not thinking about writing, not pursuing a goal, not wanting to show anyone. Writing. When I stop writing, then the ego returns, and ideas about what to do with it and who to show it to emerge. That's also when suffering returns.
The only question for me is how entangled I want to be with ego. Writing can be a means to an end. For some the pursuit is worthwhile, to varying degrees, in actuality (money, status), or for the pleasure of selling and pursuing (some love that, on its own terms). For others, the personal payoff is the better deal.
Yes, a very interesting diversity in the comments. Some commenters admit to a certain amount of ego that keeps them going. Others do not, although it's hard to say that without sounding egotistical — I am proud of my humility. I think the diversity actually comes from what each of us considers to be the definition of ego. When I talk about a writer's ego, I'm not suggesting that a writer with an ego is an egomaniac or a narcissist, but simply that a writer can (and should) have pride in his or her ability and, in today's all-business-all-the-time world, needs to have a certain amount of that quality in order to keep going in the face of rejection and criticism. Basically I meant it as a belief in oneself. Maybe I should not have used the word "ego," although my layperson's understanding of the term, as the part of the psyche that balances the id and the superego, seems right. And my comments should be taken in the context of writers who believe they should be fairly compensated when they are published. Those who prefer not to participate in the marketplace are a different story. But we live in a capitalist society (some might even call it the ultimate capitalist society), and if you choose to participate that means that every endeavor, artistic or commercial, has a value, and the marketplace decides what that value is (not necessarily fairly). The result of that decision determines the ability of artists to support themselves. I wish it were otherwise. But the marketplace has never valued art as art, only as commodity. The "artistic" value is for history to decide. And since every aspect of our lives in a capitalist society is attached to this dynamic every artist must decide whether to live in that world or not. A lot of artists think they can participate in the marketplace without compensation — they either have other means of support or don't mind living in poverty. But this attitude affects others as much as themselves by maintaining the lack of fair compensation in the industry, and I believe those artists must take responsibility for that. This, I believe, is the subtext of what Ettarh was getting at in her essay — if the people who participate in that activity allow bad working conditions and pay to persist in the name of their "calling," they need to consider not just themselves, but how their belief affects others. And I know I am getting into another topic entirely, so I will stop here. But I hope to continue to address this issue in future posts. I'm looking forward to doing research on this. There are quite a few perspectives to consider.
"Proud of my humility" 😏
In my draft comment, I started with "ego," a term with a number of meanings and nuances. I opted for the Merriam version: the self contrasted with other selves or the world. Then changed to "art" and writing motivators for my comment. I missed a little emphasis.
In your context, the writer seeking fair compensation when published would find self-confidence, self-assurance, etc., applicable, easily. Pride bolsters that confidence and assurance. It's a smart thing to do, play what's offered rather than hold out for a better game. I wouldn't blame anyone for that pursuit.
Your comment that those who participate minimally have a responsibility in maintaining the lack of fair compensation in the industry was interesting. I had a number of thoughts, but also saw you'll be addressing this in a future essay, so I'd rather hear what you have to say than push on that any. Your vision is clear, Joe, and I anticipate a further exploration of this topic.
Ettarh's essay was well-considered, but I would agree that looking at it would take us farther afield here. That it supports what you wrote in your essay is without doubt.
Oh, my vision is far from clear on this. And I know that idea will probably get a lot of pushback. So I am going to do as much research as possible before I post an essay on it. Like most of my observations and opinions about aspects of the writing life I try not to limit myself to only writing philosophy, but to be more interdisciplinary about it. Outside factors like the economy and politics and culture affect what we do as writers, even if we try to stay true to our artistic intent. I'll be looking at all that and more.
Thanks for the link to the librarian essay. I had no idea they saw themselves as the elite elect. It explains a lot and means Philip Larkin is even stranger than we already knew.
The post seems to be about success as a writer and that is fair because it's a job and a business. 'No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money' said Samuel Johnson, which is ironic conserving how poor he was for most of his life. But he kept at it, well, because he was good at it and enjoyed the company of words which may be why many persist.
To be a writer, to use economic jargon, has a low barrier to entry apart from a basic grasp of grammar. There are millions of writers from Sunday poets to diarists to professionals published by the big 5.
It may be that many writers feel self-important to sustain themselves but it is a vain waste of time. It's more important what readers feel about the work, rather than a smug group sense of status.
I suppose my enjoyment of the company of words is a big part of why I continue to write in one form or another. The combination, and therefore the possibilities that words offer, are infinite.
Ugh. Racist and thoroughly revolting Philip Larkin. 💥 #ICYMI 💥 Two of a kind: Monica Jones proved Philip Larkin’s equal for racism and misogyny
John Sutherland set out to rescue Larkin’s partner from obscurity but was shocked by her ‘acidic streams of downright nastiness’ . . . . . . . . . . . https://spectator.com/article/two-of-a-kind-monica-jones-proved-philip-larkin-s-equal-for-racism-and-misogyny/?edition=us
Great one, Joe. Ms. Fitzgerald wrote she detected 'an element of bitterness' in your essay. I certainly experience that. Bitterness, or resentment, when I read a short story or novel that I found awful and yet was published. Just read a novel, with three front pages of glowing reviews and praise for the writer. The novel was terrible, only read half of it before I gave up.
I've reached the point in my 'writing career' where I can just dismiss the next rejection with an "Ah screw you, anyway" attitude. It's all bewildering, trying to figure out what will work, but I still believe in myself, my writing. My ego takes a beating. I grow discouraged, but I always hope, the next one...This will be the one...
Every three weeks I spend an enjoyable hour at my local library browsing the shelves for new and old books to read. Libraries are a place of hope and promise.
Hope is what keeps us going, I dare say, and hope is a very healthy thing. Experts say being hopeful is right up there with exercise, diet, sleep, for longevity. So I'll keep writing and hoping, and maybe one day...
"Bitterness, or resentment, when I read a short story or novel that I found awful and yet was published." Some people would look at that statement and see jealousy. But I know that's not where you (or I) are coming from. The whole point of vocational awe is that we view what we do with a reverence, and our disappointment is that we feel much published writing doesn't share that reverence, but instead attaches to trends and tropes that are marketable.
Thanks Joe. You're kind, but there's probably a bit of jealousy on my part, too.
So, so true!
I wouldn't describe myself as a martyr but I don't write for $ or fame. In part it's a compulsion: to say things well, to offer images & metaphors that share my view of the world.
Gertrude Stein said writing was about good sentences, but for me it's about words. I love words, wordplay, the way they can rhyme & echo & surprise. And finding the words to create a character's perceptions & milieu & attitudes, makes them unique.
My ambition, if I can even call it that (as a non- competitive person) is for people to read my books & find something worthwhile there. Is that so much to ask?
A century ago I think I would have been a mid-list author at a decent publishing house, but that infrastructure is gone - now it's about being loud, credentialed, and knowing the right people. Charm helps (when they were handing out charm I didn't get any).
But I keep writing anyway - that's my remit as an April Fool. I reject the term martyr because that doesn't sound like fun at all.
I had to chuckle when I saw, "My ambition...is for people to read my books & find something worthwhile there. Is that so much to ask?" I have long felt the same way. Apparently it is too much to ask.
Joe, I couldn’t agree with you more about the writing life. Every day, I wake up and think, “What in the hell am I doing?” But … I keep writing. And the older I get (in my 60’s), the more I realize that writing is all about—trite as it may sound—process, and that process is religion-like. I’ve gone to self-publishing (I know, shame on me) and I’m really loving it. Btw: I really do look forward to reading your posts each week. Thank you.
Deb, there's no shame in self publishing anymore. I ought to know. That's the part of writing that butts up against the rest of the world. But when it comes to the actual writing itself, you are right, it is very much like a religion, and that is extremely personal.
Good morning Joe,
Another great essay. Personally, my ego won't allow me to call myself a writer. When asked, I tell the person "I write". Often—not always—the other person will ask about what I write about...and I tell them a little, not much because talking about myself can be boring...to the other person.
I didn't always write, having had a number of "successful" careers before I started to write. And this has given me many stories. While I have had more than my share of acceptances, I have also had way more than my share of rejections—probably well over 1,000 since I began writing a little over 3 years ago. Students today are not taught how to accept rejection, as in schools today every student "wins", preparing future writers to fail.
Write about what moves you, not for any specific publication, because editors prioritize their personal tastes above truly good writing. And identity, even though almost all publications ask that you not identify yourself on your ms, is too easily known. I read a prize-winning story in a very prestigious publication and guessed after reading the first sentence the identity of the writer. I googled her...and I was right.
"You can’t write well if you’re thinking about yourself or the greatness of your writing and how it deserves recognition, and yet you have to maintain some ego about it, even if it’s just to complete the work." 100% on the nose.
I look froward to Saturday when I know that one of your essays will be waiting for me.
Many thanks,
Eric (E.P. Lande)
In the years since my friend and I harbored those self-indulgent thoughts, I have changed. Like you, when someone asks me what I do I tend to downplay my writing career, much to the displeasure of my wife, who then steps in and does the promotion for me.
You mentioned, "Write about what moves you." That's another realization I have ultimately come to. Trying to shape one's writing to fit a particular style or trend never works.
Glad to hear you look forward to these posts. Support like that is what makes it worthwhile.
Oh dear. I'm reading something that sounds like an element of bitterness in the subtext of your post today, Joe. So, 'whad'up dog?' -- as we say in the hood.
That wasn't my intention, Karen, but if that comes through I suppose there is some resentment. Mostly I was intrigued by the idea of Fobazi Ettarh’s Vocational Awe and wanted to explore it. I actually didn't want to focus on personal motivation, but to talk about the wider idea of our art as a sort of holy endeavor, which can lead to writers and artists accepting a lack of the rewards that other fields have.
I'm going to be thinking lots about this, Joe: "art as a sort of holy endeavor". Glad you qualified it w/ that prepositional phrase. I'll be back. Must give this a big think, me being aligned with principles of wu wei taoism and an adept at Zuowang meditation. (That's wu wei, not woo-woo.)
OK, so if I'm going to be hangin' out with all your very erudite discussants here in Beyond Craft, allow me this big, self-reveal. Put "The Karen Disorder" in your browser & you'll learn more about me than you'll ever care to know. It should take you to an essay in the AutoEthnographer.
What's up? Karen, it's nice to see you here!
Ah, LindaAnn. This is where I first met you! If not for Joe, I wouldn't be resurrecting the goth within. As for all these authorial syndromes: martyr, imposter, schizoid. . . . geeze--- I'm a writer whose identity is stuck in the pre-Freudian era. Not that I don't suffer all sortsa' insecurities but I guess I'm too old to care much about anything publishers say or don't say about my work. Grateful am I that my blood still circulates enough to feel a shred of disappointment over a rejection & a heart fibrillation at an acceptance. 😊
As to rejections, when they come, the only "regret" I have is that I wasted my time on lit-mag A when I might have had a better outcome with lit-mag B or lit-mag C. It doesn't pay to weep or gripe over a rejection; in 2 yrs that lit-mag will be on hiatus & by 3 1/2 yrs the website will be gone. 🧛 🦇 🎦 Karen, I posted the full movie version of "DRACULA" today. 🧛🦇 Done by the BBC, it's supposed to be the version most faithful to Stoker's novel. Next week, I'll be discussing Transylvania (in Stoker) - - how it functions as a liminal space.
Joe, never did I open my composition book (those 7" x 10" black-white covered composition books used in elementary school - - ready to receive my scribble) and think, "Pages, you're lucky I showed up today!" Though I do receive acceptances every week, I have no illusions about my worth to the world. Unless a writer receives a major award, no library card will be made, no legacy will be left. Most of what we write will never be read, much less remembered. I still love what I do.
LindaAnn you are fortunate that you don't have to wrestle with these conflicting emotions. As you can see by the other comments, many of us do. I don't think it's a personal failing, tho. Much of it is dependent on what we believe others expect from us.
RE: "what others expect from us" - - well, that's a luxury. LOL No one cares if I write - - or don't write. No one monitors my (ahem) "writing career." My childhood experiences taught me not to expect that my parents would fuss over me. Joe, I may have mentioned here that my plays started to be onstage in NYC from when I was 9 years old. Even though my mother was a stay-at-home-Mom, she never attended any performances. Fortunately, strangers came and filled all the seats. In general, I think false expectations can lead some people astray. Taking pleasure in completing the work . . . that is its own reward.
Joe, this hit home in such a profound way today. I’ve been wrestling with that 'martyr ego' you describe—that tension between the desire for validation and the sacred, quiet act of writing itself. Your point about being 'everything and nothing at once' is a perfect description of the writer’s soul. Thank you for reminding us that while the ego gets us to the finish line, it’s the humility that makes the work worth reading. A truly necessary reflection.
Thanks. It's a difficult set of emotions that we have to manage. The pressures of the world, and what others expect from us, have a lot to do with that.