So it was easier to just write this here than send two asks (see also: I am lazy af and I tend to ramble)— Last night I went to bed at midnight thinking I was gonna be an adult and get some sleep, and then I was like Nah I’ll just start reading that raven book thing that clarkequeengriffin and coldsaturn keep referencing.
So – yes, I finished it, I actually got through book 1 and at least half of book 2 (between the hours of, y’know, midnight and 7am when I was supposed to be sleeping) – but here’s the thing, I don’t know what to think about it.
One of my biggest problems when it comes to reading is that it’s just hard to— care? Care is the wrong word, saying I don’t care sounds strong. So let’s say I’m not curious.
The author has a beautiful style, lovely words, borderline flawless, and I don’t have anything against the characters, but I’m facing the same problem I usually face when I try to read (one of the main reasons I stopped reading in the first place)– I’m not curious about what comes next. I opted to stay up all night because by 15% into the first book I realized if I stopped I might not come back to it. So it was easier to just stay up and keep reading til the finish line.
I’ll finish book 2 sometime soon, and chances are good I’ll read 3 and 4, but – maybe it’s one of those ideas that’ll seep in unnoticed, and fill up all the cracks where you didn’t think it was going to fit. And then in a month or two I’ll just be sitting there and going Damn, That book was actually pretty interesting. Anyway, it’s a work in progress.
I’ve never really had this problem because I just love reading so much, but in this specific case I’m somehow in the same boat, though not really: I don’t really care for what happens in the story, I just really love how she paints with words. the characters are nice too, even though I’m just curious about the gay ship.
what kind of books make you care for what happens next (or if it’s never happened: which books came close to it)? is there a trope or a type of character that make you stick to the story? (not necessarily making you curious about how it will end–90% of the times I don’t care how it will end, I just need to enjoy how I get there–but interested enough that you like reading nth scenes in which the characters face challenges and react to each other)
p.s. you pulled an all-nighter for a book that you didn’t even like all that much, you’re precious
Adding a cut because it’s starting to get long o_o one of these days I will learn how not to ramble haha not someone please remind me that tumblr is not LJ and not conducive for ranting
*gently pulls a long-neglected project out of the closet, dusts it off, buys it a drink, and then proceeds to ruin the lives of every character inside*
Artists, writers, creators of all stripes: read this. And bookmark it… because you may need to read it repeatedly. It’s on correctly valuing your work. (Pricing, too, yeah. But the issue of value comes first.)
My mentor asked me to decide how much I hoped to earn in terms of my
salary, and to price my work accordingly. I did it the other way around.
I worked out how much I wanted to earn from each individual piece (and
other stuff that I can’t tell you about yet), then I added up how much I
would likely earn over the course of a year and then once I saw the
total I decided that it was way too much, that I didn’t need that much
and that I didn’t deserve that much, so I’d just have to earn less.
Seriously.
And the worst part was that I didn’t see anything wrong with this. In
fact, I thought that earning a good salary for my work was somehow
unfair to the rest of the world. So I reduced the price of the thing I
can’t tell you about yet and went into my meeting with a nice clear idea
of how to avoid earning more than I felt I deserved.
I’m not even joking.
So there we were in our meeting and my mentor patiently listened to
my stream of ideas and plans and hopes and fears about where I want to
take my work and how I want to develop the business side of things.
Once I’d stopped for breath, my mentor told me that she thought my
pricing was too low. I explained that I didn’t think it was. She told me
again, that it was indeed way to low, and I explained that pricing it
higher wouldn’t be fair to people who wanted to buy it. Then she said
something that made absolutely no sense to me. She asked if my feelings
about pricing were somehow connected to something within me, or more
specifically if my feelings towards the people who buy my work were
fulfilling some need within me.
I had absolutely no idea what the hell she was on about. Remember, I
teach this stuff. I am a master at pointing out the root of my students’
issues and creative barriers and I could sort of see what she might be
getting at and why what she said might have meant something to someone
else, but I really had no idea what relevance it had to me.
Until the train ride home.
Here’s what I realised about myself.
I feel bad about people paying for my work because I think that the
people who buy and even those who appreciate my work are somehow being
duped. I keep feeling that at some point I am going to be found out to
be an imposter. I feel bad when my work is considered valuable.
There.
Issue number one; I do not trust or value my talent.
And there’s more.
I worry that I am somehow going to get into trouble for showing off.
I feel that if I openly value my work then people might not like me.
I know.
Issue number two; please like me, please like me, please, please like me…
In a culture where there’s so much pressure to undervalue one’s work because so many people are getting the idea that as much stuff as possible should be free for the taking from the people who create it, this kind of self-examination is vital.
“I feel bad about people paying for my work because I think that the
people who buy and even those who appreciate my work are somehow being
duped.”
It hurts us because it’s so true. This pretty much explains my entire approach to pricing The Foxhole Court and my reluctance to make the books available in print.
Yes. Writing a book is the easiest thing in the whole world. In fact, let me show you just how easy it is!
Goal: change all this paper into a book.
Eh, not that hard. I mean, you just have to read, right?
Maybe scratch a few notes in the margins as reminders.
Yeah, writing and editing isn’t time consuming or painstaking at all.
In fact, I find it quite relaxing. Good meditation. No stress whatsoever!
I mean, it’s not like writing a book involves any train of thought or decision making, like when to cut scenes, because whatever you write is perfect and there to stay!
I mean, come on, it’s not like I’m going to rewrite the first chapter 51 TIMES to make sure it’s how I want it, right? That’d be crazy.
And no, it’s not like I spent over 3,000 HOURS READING AND REVISING 14 DRAFTS OF THE BOOK to make this book readable.
No sweat, no tears, no blood, and DEFINITELY no coffee stains.
Nope, writing is the easiest job in the world. I don’t see why anyone thinks otherwise. I mean, all we do is scribble words and take a few out, right?
We feel no satisfaction AT ALL when we receive a shipment of the final product for a book signing. *yawn* BOR–ING.
Nope, we don’t get excited at all. It’s just another day in the life.
And the sequels? Bitch, please. That’s child’s play.
You’re right. Writing a book is so easy. It’s not stressful, not exciting, and it’s definitely not worth the reward of holding something that USED TO BE EXCLUSIVELY IN YOUR HEAD AND NOW YOU GET TO SHARE IT WITH THE WHOLE WORLD.
“You could be writing the book that changes your life. The spark could be starting a fire for you as well. You don’t know, and you can’t know. That is the thrill of being an artist, of working for yourself, and of telling the stories you want to tell.
