My interview with writer Amy Hanson, generated a flurry of response--and some thought-provoking questions. Amy's story is magnificent, so please scroll down to read it, if you weren't able to. She's a very hard-working writer who received a well-earned award and publication for part of her book.
A few blog reader, who enjoyed the article very much, also expressed concerns about the challenge of being published today. I sifted out the best questions from the emails I got last week. They were:
1. Does one have to write about social issues to get published?
2. Do I really have to do that much work (submit to contests, go to conferences and meet people, research publications)? Can't I just write something great?
Let's look at the social element first (question 2). It's very true that writers who network--meet people in publishing, make an effort to be seen--have a better chance of getting their work out. Perhaps faster, perhaps more easily. I know a woman whose father was a famous writer; early on, she got to meet his agent socially and her dad put in a good word for her work, so she got mentored and published quite young. Another writer I know landed a scholarship to Breadloaf, where he met his agent just because it is a great atmosphere to meet people in publishing. Another writer interned at a publishing house in New York and met the right people to launch her career. Some writers sign up for MFA programs largely because of the contacts they will make.
It feels slimy to me, the opposite of the pure path of making art. I also am practical enough to recognize that who you know is a factor in all the arts. Because art is also a business.
Question 1, above, is an even more tender subject. One of my blog readers put it very succinctly: "If I write about white people in little, day-in-the-life conflicts, is that passe?"
The arts have always been a society's voice in troubled times. Art speaks out where nothing else can or will. It's going to reflect the larger themes, the social justice issues, in an effort to help heal the society that is hurting. Art echoes our consciousness as human beings.
Publishers know this. It's not that the social justice issues are "more in vogue," as one blog reader put it. It's that our troubled times need the art that speaks out. When a writer is able to craft fiction or nonfiction that speaks out in a moving and beautiful way, it has a greater mission than the personal.
But that leads to the real question behind these questions: How much should I, as a writer, sculpt my writing or my career to meet these expectations?
For me, I start by writing my truth. What's in my heart, not what I think will sell well. My early drafts are all about me and the story. We are in our cave, alone. When I begin to bring the story out into the world, it ceases to be mine. I get feedback, I make changes as I learn how the story affects a reader. Good readers help me go deeper into the writing and I learn what the story really wants to say. Often, a larger issue emerges. It may still be about day-to-day conflicts, or it might grow into something bigger than that.
Along the way, I am still careful: it's still my truth. It might teach me more about that truth--stuff I didn't know I knew when I began to write this piece. You may disagree, but I personally feel that my writing must align with my values, my beliefs, who I am as a person, to really be my art.
In her biographical film, Joni Mitchell, talked about writing a song for the radio. She wanted to write a song that would be a radio hit. She wrote "Electricity," a great song, and it was a hit. She could do that--deliberately use her vast songwriting talents to craft a song that would be played a lot. But it still was hers, her art. She didn't, from what I could tell in the film interview, bastardize her values to get this hit written and aired. You can still hear "Electricity" and know it's Joni, all the way.
Your weekly writing exercise is a freewrite. Using the prompt, "my writing, my truth," explore the line you walk between writing and marketing. What are you willing to do, what aren't you? There's no absolute, no right or wrong, just individual choices. It's good to know yours.