Am I doing this right?
thoughts on writing
‘Am I doing this right?’
The book that really gave me my start reached an odd milestone this week, with 404 Ink, the publisher who agreed to a mid-COVID romp through Schitt’s Creek, closing their doors (pages?).
It’s not the end for the little Pink book, luckily; another publisher has picked up the Inklings, so a number of us get not only to live on but also a new lease of publishing life, including North American publication, which is exciting- particularly for the little pink book about the most Canadian of shows to get properly published out there.
I owe the direction my writing took to that little pink book, to 404 taking a punt on me, and to an unhinged fangirl ramble for my first book. While technically it was the second book contract I signed, the first, my only academic book on Angels in America, didn’t come out until much later. In fact, I like to joke I wrote the Schitt’s Creek book because it was too depressing to write a book about a pandemic in a pandemic.
That book set me on a path of realising that the PhD supervisor’s insult ‘you write like a journalist’ could actually be turned into ‘you write in an accessible way for trade books that people might actually read’ and without being so gauche as to go into numbers, the sales figures for that little pink book versus the Angels in America book speak for themselves (somehat helped by one being 7.99 the other being about $70).
The pink book and all that followed opened so many doors- in work, teaching, writing and more…but I still find myself wondering, ‘am I doing this right?’
Because I’m objectively not doing it right as an academic, or specifically ‘failed academic ’, given the one and only academic book I’ve published on niche 90s gay theatre hardly setting the world on fire. But equally, I might have six books published now, but to academics they don’t ‘count ’; they’re cute pet projects, not ‘real’ work… (it’s not cute, unless you call endless hours and occasional abject rage cute).
Meanwhile, I’m not sure I’m doing it ‘right’ in a trade-author sense… in that I’m not hugely successful. Mainly because I haven’t worked out a way to get internet-famous or podcast-famous first and THEN write books. Basically I did it the wrong way round, I guess?
But also what is ‘right’ in this game of book writing that is at best a shot in the dark, a wing and a prayer? Unless you are, in fact, podcast- or influencer-famous beforehand, there’s no guarantee anyone will care.
But there’s also the question of sacrifice for writing. Over the last 6ish years, I’ve put the books first: when opportunities present themselves, I’ve chased them. But the hard truth is that you can’t pursue writing this way and climb a career ladder… at least I can’t.
There are a few things to unpack here.
First is the physical time- I’ve been lucky to write six books in as many years, and I couldn’t have done that with a full-time demanding job. It is possible to carve out our writing around the hours of a full-time job, but it’s also about the headspace of said jobs… because writing takes up headspace. And while it is possible to do both, my neurospicy brain would struggle even more than it already does. Finally, too, the freedom to write. Now when an employer takes me on, it’s goggle-able gay books and all, and if you don’t like, I don’t actually want to work there. In the same way, my politics are not something I will compromise on for a job (nor will I compromise my ability to say ‘fuck the Tories’ publicly and loudly)
Thirdly, the freedom to do what I want and to be that writer outside of whatever I do for money. Which is more difficult than you might think. I directly asked in a job interview last year if this was ok and was told ‘we will decide’ I was also told I wasn’t allowed to be ‘political’ which I’m sure we’ll agree is tricky in this climate for an LGBTQ+ author (there was by the way no reason I couldn’t be political in that job, it wasn’t say a civil service adjacent one they were just…well something). But the truth is many places won’t let you have another ‘work’ identity (another reason I will never be an ‘all in’ kind of person to a single job).
So choices were made all around… and I’ll be honest, I never know if they were the right ones. Should I have pursued more ‘steady’ work? Should I have shunned book opportunities for ‘achieving my potential’ in the workplace, rather than throwing gay books into the universe and hoping for the best?
I’ll be honest, I feel like a failure on both fronts sometimes. In the ‘all this work for what’ that can apply to both ‘career-work’ and ‘book-work’...it can feel incredibly disheartening. Especially on the former, seeing people my age ‘achieve their potential ’-seeing people who did PhDs after me do what I completely failed at and excel in academia. Feeling like I have consistently succeeded only in failing at any kind of career.
Then looking at books and, while being incredibly proud of the work, wondering if everyone judges me as not successful enough. Comparing myself to other authors, and realising I have never and possibly will never hit on whatever magic formula that creates a ‘success’, whatever that looks like.
I don’t know. But as the great man said, ‘the choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not ’, and I did, and have chosen books, and this path.
But I also don’t know if the problem is me (probably). I don’t know how to play the game on either front, so I’m doomed to do it wrong. But that also…I don’t know how else to better play this game than bringing myself and what I have to say to it.
My little pink book was a happy accident, and one of the most successful things I’ve done…and somehow that’s a lesson in itself- you can’t predict or even know when things will be the ‘success ’; all you can do is figure out each move from there.
I’m pretty sure I’m not doing it right…but I don’t know exactly how else to do it.
All this ties in with my earlier post on the emotional side of book writing. I’m just coming off a month where I’ve juggled a really intensive job-job stuff on one side, as well as writing-job promoting a new book, and it’s hard not to crash out just a little when you’re tired as hell. It’s also hard not to crash out when you have a book newly out in June when every Queer and his dog (sometimes his actual dog) has a book out and, of course, seems to be doing better than you.
Just like you shouldn’t make decisions when you’re hungry or hungover, there’s probably a queer author rule not to make life decisions right after Pride month (actually this goes for my Queers in general, that boy or girl or nonbinary icon you met drunk at Pride probably isn’t worth blowing your life up for…but I digress). I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but I’m going to get some sleep, get back to normal…and then think about what’s next.
On a related note, my lovely friend Mikey has a book out this week. It’s a joyous account of growing up gay in Wales, told through the lens of the food in his life (including recipes). It’s a delight, and you can buy it here.
