A Twenty-Something's Existential Crisis About Publishing?

The other day I went out for coffee with my parents and my little brother, and among other things we talked about creative career aspirations. They were wondering whether I still wanted to be an author, since when I was a little kid, author was always the first thing on my list of dream jobs. I thought I'd go a bit more in depth about where my thoughts are at now, since they've changed a lot since I was five.

I was sure when I was younger that I would be one of those prodigies that was published at thirteen. My family was super impressed with my writing skill, after all, so I was sure I could wow the world. I never actually got around to that, as much as I stalked the careers of young published authors, but that was okay. I've written before about how I was glad I wasn't a teen published author, for a variety of reasons.

But things change, as they do. There was a while when I was in university that I kind of lost writing for a while. I learned a lot of things about life, but also was frozen with fear and didn't write much of anything for four years, and wondered if I even counted as a writer at all, kind of gave up on the dream for a while. It wasn't until I let go of my fears, perfectionism, and own personal pressures that I could actually enjoy writing again for what it was to me.

And now that I have found myself writing again, and really liking it, a lot, I've reconsidered over the years my thoughts on publishing. For one, I know a lot more about publishing than I did then. When I was younger, publishing was always presented as the obvious next step for someone who loved writing. Now, I understand that loving writing and publishing don't necessarily have to intertwine. I also know now that publishing is a business, first, and being an author is a job. Also, it's a business that doesn't necessarily pay well. Nicole Brinkley recently posted this super informative thread on Twitter on how authors get paid, if you want a glimpse into how a small piece of the business works. Tl;dr VERY few writers are able to work full time as authors. As Nicole put it:

For most authors, writing is a professional hobby—something they love but that cannot pay the bills.

For full-time authors, it’s increasingly important that people buy their books, or they might look up one day to no new book deals, no royalties, and no way to buy groceries.

— Nicole Brinkley @ Winter Institute (@nebrinkley) July 23, 2018

So the question I've been asking myself is, what do I want from this? My dad's question was, could a writer be happy just writing and enjoying that craft, and not pursue publishing at all? When I think about it, I totally think I could. Writing is what I like, after all. 

HOWEVER, I am also aware of how I let fear get in the way a lot of the time. Maybe I'm just too scared of all of the unknowns of pursuing publishing. And I have experienced the joy that can come from sharing stories with a wider audience, and the beautiful connections that can be born out of that. And I'm sure there are tons of lovely new experiences to be had in the path of publishing and pursuing an author career that I'm not even aware of yet.

And then there's the fact that there is not just one way to get your story out there, as so many things on the Internet have demonstrated: serial stories posted on websites, comic stories shared through Tumblr updates, self-published things that rise to stardom...

I don't have a good conclusion other than to say that I don't know? I don't really know what I think about publishing right now. Things I do know: I like writing, and in some way, shape or form, I'm pretty sure I want to use my stories to connect with other people. Whether that be a large or small circle is to be determined.

What are your thoughts on publishing? What kind of creative ways have you seen people get their stories out there? If you have pursued a career as an author, what advice would you have for people pursuing the same career path?

Tangerine and The Ways A Book Can Affect You

Do you ever have those weird thoughts that pop up sometimes, randomly triggered by something in your everyday life? I don't know, maybe you don't, but I do.

To backtrack a bit, the other day a fifth grader checked out a book called Tangerine. Strangely, the cover and title seemed vaguely familiar to me. I realized that at some point in the past I must have read it. My memory of the book slowly returned, although all I could remember at that point was that it was weird.

The fifth grader returned it, so I checked it out and am now in the midst of reading it. I'm only a few pages in, but I've come across a pattern. I've realized that a ton of those weird thoughts that pop up when randomly triggered came from this book that I read who knows how many years ago (when I was in elementary school, at least).

First of all, there's this part in Tangerine where the MC Paul is talking about his damaged vision, and how his teachers and parents use him as example, because the rumour is that he damaged his eyes from looking straight into the sun. "Teachers and other adults always seemed to value me as an example. I was the living proof that you shouldn't look at an ecplise or you'll go blind; that you shouldn't play in an abandoned refrigerator or you'll suffocate; that you shouldn't go swimming right after you eat or you'll get stomach cramps and drown." I recall that every time someone said to wait to swim after you eat I thought of this book.

Secondly,  in the book the school has portable classrooms. Ever since I read Tangerine, the thought and idea of portable classrooms kept coming back to me.

It's a really odd experience rereading a book you'd almost completely forgotten about, but that has affected you in so many ways and that you remember so well. Other than the memories, I don't remember anything particulary special about Tangerine (although I'm not done rereading yet so I guess I still could remember something). I almost feel like this book haunts me or something.

It's fascinating, the ways a book can affect you, isn't it?

(P.S. I know I'm not doing very well with my blog-every-Monday promise. But at least I'm still posting this week!)

You Don't Have to Be Fearless to Do Scary Things

A few weeks ago over Christmas holidays I went for a hike to a waterfall with a group of about 20 other people. Some were in runners (like me), but most were in flip-flops.

The hike was fairly treacherous. There wasn't a nice gravel trail. We basically had to climb over rocks the entire time, and since it had rained the day before, the rocks were slippery. There was one part of the hike that was straight climbing up the side of a cliff. Then, once at the top, you had to walk on a ledge that was barely wide enough for your own foot. My heart was definitely pounding for the entire hike, in anticipation that I would slip and kill myself.

I figured I'd rather look stupid and be alive than the opposite, so I did a lot of crouching and bum-scooting on that hike. While I was bum-scooting my way along the path, the high school boys and tough hikers were way ahead, nimbly climbing over all the slippery rocks like monkeys.

There was one couple on the hike that I had heard lots about, mostly about how daring and adventurous they were. From what I'd heard, they loved to take risks and travel, and they had just backpacked around Indonesia for a month before visiting the Philippines for Christmas. Based on the things I'd heard about them, my perception of them was that they were tough, crazy backpackers who weren't afraid of anything.

Well, I was wrong. Once we'd arrived at the waterfall everyone stripped down to their bathing suits and jumped into the cool fresh water of the waterfall. The 20 of us were swimming or wading in the pool at the base of the waterfall. The girl of this backpacker couple was swimming near me, and all of a sudden she shrieked and held her tanned feet above the water. "Was that a leech?" she shrieked. "There better not be leeches in this water! I hate leeches." She shuddered.

I'm not really sure why, but in that moment I realized that, for one, I once again judged someone wrongly, but mostly that you don't have to be fearless to do scary things.

Sometimes I feel like I want to be at some level of bravery, where I'm not afraid of anything and I'm willing to do anything and everything in the world, no matter the risk. However, I still have tons of fears, whether they be big or just little things. It's definitely the act of overcoming those constant fears that is courageous, I think.

I definitely think this applies to writing. First, I'm too timid to try anything risky with my writing, for fear that it won't go over well with the people who read my work. Then I decide that I'll just wait until I get over this timidity and I'm fearless and have the freedom to write from anything to everything. But then I'm stuck in a rut, because I will never be fearless. I will always have doubts and hesitations about my writing. I just have to try to overcome those fears daily. I have to daily break out of my comfort zone, in life, but also in writing. I have definitely seen evidence that if you take risks and be unique, you or your writing is loved the more for it.

Maybe I'm afraid of leeches, but I can still backpack all over Indonesia...

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." -Meg Cabot