I’m a writer – aren’t I?


Did I mention that I’m a writer? Did I? Did I mention that I wrote three novels (four if you count the one fifteen years ago on an obsolete word processing package)? Or that I had a short story published in a women’s magazine. Yes, for money!

‘Ah!’ you may marvel. ‘Where can I buy your novel? Is it is W H Smiths? Or Amazon?’

‘No,’ I reply sulkily. ‘It isn’t actually published yet. I don’t have an agent.’

Oh dear. After an uncomfortable silence we move on to the next subject with the mutual feeling that we have established that I am not a ‘real’ writer. I say I am. I write every day. I love writing. I write stories that have a beginning, a middle and an end. They are readable, after all lots have people have read them and loved them. I enjoy writing. I am a member of several writing websites, where other people write. I am, in fact, a writer.

The way I see it is like this: I am a writer. I know other writers who, through writing websites, can read my work and comment on it. I can send my work to publishers and agents.

Sorting through this, there seems to be two aims: getting published and being validated as a real writer; the two go hand in hand but are very different processes.

The latter proceeds as follows: Write a novel. Post chapters online. Some other writers will read it and comment. Published authors, in this sense, place themselves as experts. After all, they have written their own book and know what writing a published book entails. Non-published authors sit at their feet surrounded by rejection slips, neurotic with worries of agents not receiving their works, or worse, receiving it and once again rejecting it. The aim is that you will use the critique to improve your work and perhaps an agent or publisher will look in on your work and publish you.

On then to agents and publishers. Now they are the experts. They are definitely the experts when it comes to getting your book published. So, what does getting a book published involve? Obviously, words that make sense in some sort of order that has sold before, but with a slightly different idea. A nice cover. Lots of publicity, lots of contacts in the book selling business, some public relations work with the author (author now, not writer, note). Hold on, isn’t this about writing? So agents and publishers are actually marketing experts? They want to sell the book for money? What about that creative urge you had right at the beginning?

The massive gap between being creative with writing and selling a novel is staggering. That isn’t to say that novels are not great works of creative writing, because some are. However, there are also the rules – MC, POV, show and tell, hooks, sympathetic character etc. To get work to a ‘publishable standard’ involves shaping the novel into what will sell.

What if you just want to tell a story? I began to write my first novel for the Dirty Sparkle Project and the story I wanted to tell was bursting out of me.

Actually, I am an expert. I am an expert in storytelling. Yes, I have completed a doctorate in identity construction and I am a narrative psychologist. I have studied the way that real people, yes, real people, in real life, tell stories. I have studied, again, in great depth, how these resonate with other people. I have knowledge about the way people tell, both orally and symbolically, and how they listen. My work is based on my knowledge. My knowledge is based on evidence, theory and praxis.

Anyway, I posted my stories on some writing websites. Someone, who presumably considers themselves as an expert in writing, (perhaps they have a degree in creative writing, taught by other published authors, overviewing how to write books in the the shape publishers and agents can sell them, thus creating a convenient shortcut to moneymaking and validation), commented that my work had a weak story and ‘needed a lot of work’. Another person hated my main character. Actually, the same main character has caused a divide in opinion amongst non-writers who have read the story because my third novel, Life: Immaterial tells the story of a woman who doesn’t love her children as much now they are grown. I was initially pleased because I liked the thought of my work creating discussion. Anyhow, surely, because these people are neither experts in storytelling (narratives) or experts in marketing books (publisher or agent), the opinion they gave is purely subjective? If that is the case, why did it hurt so much?

Because, up until the moment I let the stinging words enter my psyche, I was being sucked into the giant validation machine that poses as the world of publishing. I am not blaming agents or publishers, I totally understand they are just doing their jobs and trying to make a living. No, the fault is in part, mine. I have entered a sub-society where the hierarchy is measured by whether you are published or not. This seems to denote an air of creative genius, of art, of an other-worldliness! On the contrary. It means that your have possibly sold (out) your work for a percentage. It means that you have, perhaps, shaped the words that really wanted to escape from your heart into a ‘Stepford Wife’ of a product. There’s nothing wrong with that, as long as you aren’t going to have a go at my creative efforts and dismiss them!
I would contend that because of my expertise, my knowledge and my writing skills, my stories will resonate with the people who read them. Well, those people who aren’t competing with me for the slim chance of publication. So, agents and publishers of the world, in the immortal words of Abba – take a chance on me! I may not be your Stepford Wife or stick to the rules but I can tell a bloody good story!

After all, I am an expert!
(Damn after all that I still appeal for publication – must try harder not to sell out!)