A funny thing happened on the way to publication… I lost a few writing friends.
- “Guy gets published and suddenly he thinks he’s an authority.”
- “Who’s he to say what’s good writing or bad writing?”
- “He’s no more qualified to teach at a writer’s conference than me.”
Maybe they have a point. I mean, what else could explain posts like The Single Worst Piece of Advice to Give an Aspiring Writer and 10 Steps to Being a Mediocre Writer? Wow! Perhaps I HAVE become a snotty, arrogant, swollen-headed, windbag.
Is that what getting published does to you?
So I finally decided to purchase Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. Outliers is often recommended by business professionals, including those in the publishing business. Gladwell examines some of the the brightest, most successful individuals in their field and asks: What makes high-achievers different?
The author springs off the idea of an “outlier.” An outlier is defined as “something that is situated away from or classed differently from a main or related body.” Outliers are outside the norm. As such, people who become successful in whatever profession are, in a sense, “outsiders,” they rise above the status quo; outliers are “situated away from or classed differently” from other “normal folk.”
Question: Is it wrong to want to be an outlier?
Here’s why I ask: The cost of success is separation. Think about it in terms of writing. I came into the business late, in my early forties. I followed the typical route like many of you: Took some writing courses, read some craft books, joined a critique group, etc., etc. Most everyone in those groups pined after the same thing: Publication. We were peers in this journey. Well, eventually I started enjoying some success: Won some contests, attracted an agent, and eventually landed a two-book contract. Then things changed. Suddenly, people were asking ME for an interview, readers were asking ME for advice. I had an ISBN and a few more Friends. Sure, I was still a schmuck. But I had managed — whether through Fate or Luck or Damn Hard Effort — to take the next step in a writing career.
An outlier? Hardly. But I was definitely out of one stage of life and into another.
And I needed to act like it.
But “acting like it” can get you in trouble.
One of my critique partners, Merrie Destefano, has been a great source of wisdom. It’s funny how similar a track we’re both on. We both received a two book contract. She recently changed agents, just like me, and that agent is shopping Merrie’s third novel. My third novel will be being shopped by my new agent this year. But that’s kind of where our symmetry stops. Merrie has been in the publishing business a lot longer than me. She was an editor for a popular print magazine and has some other stuff out there. She’s been on several writing panels and taught a workshop at a recent writer’s conference. I really respect and trust her advice. Anyway, Merrie’s been telling me for the longest that I should try to teach at some conferences. I always hem and haw. My excuse is…
“Nobody wants to hear what I have to say.”
And Merrie – God bless her – always says, “Mike, you don’t know how many writers want to be where you are, with a good agent, with a contract, with a traditional publisher, with published books, with a popular blog, with readership, with a solid foot in the door.” And here’s the kicker: “Mike, you have to start thinking about yourself differently.”
And she’s right. She’s absolutely right.
But thinking about myself differently is exactly what’s caused me to lose a few writer friends.
See, the moment you go from peer to published peer is the moment some will become jealous. The moment you go from fellow student to teacher, you can appear big-headed. The moment you go from one of the gang to outsider, some will un-Friend you. The moment you start acting like you know what you’re talking about, someone will charge you with… trying to act like you know what you’re talking about.
Maybe that’s the cost of advance.
So I received an email from someone a while back. We’d chatted on Facebook and they’d visited my website. They asked me if I could persuade my agent to look at their novel. I wrote back saying I’d need to read some of their stuff before I could honestly recommend them. They emailed me their first chapter. I didn’t need to read much. I wrote this person back and said I couldn’t refer them. I encouraged them to keep working on their craft, recommended some writing books, and told them to consider joining a critique group.
I haven’t heard from them since.
Am I an arrogant S.O.B. for telling them this? I get published and suddenly I think I’m an expert. I mean, who am I to say what’s good writing or bad writing?
Sigh.
So when does a published author become an “authority” on writing? Maybe never. But acting like a know-nothing will NEVER get you very far.
Most interesting, Mike.
A few months before I landed my publishing deal, a friend of mine, and fellow aspiring writer, commented to me that I needed to learn to “posture myself as a writer.” She said I wasn’t showing enough confidence in myself, and I realized she was totally right! If I wanted to be published, I needed to act like I deserved to be published.
Now that I’m published, I’m having to learn to act like I’m published for a reason. I have a speaking engagement tomorrow, where I’m supposed to share about my journey and my novel, but there is this part of me that is cowering, wondering why ANYONE would want to hear me talk.
But, they do. And I’ve been lucky to be surrounded by loving and supportive friends–both writers and non-writers–who have cheered me on every step of the way. I don’t think I’ve lost a friend yet over being published, but maybe it’s not been long enough. Or maybe it’s because most of my writer friends met me after I had already gotten a number of short stories published. Or maybe it’s because so many of my writer friends are getting published right now as well!
But I can relate to that feeling of acting the authority, when part of me thinks I’ve no business doing so, and part of me knows damn well I’m right. I think the important part is remembering that while we are more of an authority than some, we’re also always less than others. And while we have gotten where we are through hard work and, yes, talent, we are teaching others by passing on *what we ourselves have learned from someone else.* And it’s not our fault if the person we are trying to share with can’t see that.
Kat, I actually thought about you when I was writing this, not because you’re sniffy like me, but because you’d mentioned you’d be teaching. I love your line that “while we are more of an authority than some, we’re always less than others.” That’s so true, and an attitude we should cultivate no matter how much we succeed. So if J. K. Rowling walks in on your library lecture, please yield the mic to her.
Hah! If JK Rowling walks into the room, I’ll probably blather like and raving idiot :P. And die of indecision–stay, or drive home at 90 miles an hour to get my Harry Potter books for her to sign?
“Sniffy like me.” *snort* That’s not a word I think I’d ever have chosen to describe you :).
Blather like *a* raving idiot. See??? Proves my point….
Oftentimes you will find the jealousy a key factor in “losing” friends. Some people can’t handle others’ successes and privately gloat over their failures. That’s unfortunate but real.
My personal complaint for some singularly published/represented individuals are these elements: no honest humility evident; the expression of over-used platitudes about how to write and get published; overstating their “authority” on the subject of writing without having much cred and doing it in a pompous manner; and with believers no attribution to the Lord’s blessing.
I enjoy celebrating my fellow writers’ successes and can’t wait until a few more of them crack the code because they’ve got the talent. I want to feature and promote them. I hope they’ll do the same for me, but I don’t expect it because of the genre thing.
BTW I think you did the right thing for the person who asked you to recommend him/her. You told the person the truth from your viewpoint.
I’ve detected a tendency toward a ‘we’re all in this together, so you must cut me some slack and automatically like /promote me’ mindset in the Christian community. It means well but is as wrong as can be.
We’re explicitly commanded not to engage in favoritism in the Body, and yet we confuse ‘loving one another’ for ‘giving one another 5 stars.’ Sometimes loving one another means gently but firmly saying we can’t refer them, encourage them to keep working on their craft, recommend some writing books, and tell them to consider joining a critique group. If we are really serious about growing as a writer, we will be patient and put in the hard work it takes to stretch our art and hone our craft through the mechanisms which have proven to work.
(And while I’m thinking about it, the rise of the internet and the speed of electronic publishing doesn’t mean we automatically fail /less,/ it means we can fail /faster./ This is a good thing. This is how we learn, how we improve.)
Oh, don’t get Mike started on the five stars!
Hey, Mike, you have my permission to be an authority. You, too, Kat.
Thanks, Lelia!
Dude, you can second-guess yourself straight into neutral on this one.
We’re not talking value judgments on a person’s worth as a human being; it’s a sliding scale in a specific area. There’s always people lower on the learning curve than you as well as further up. If in the conversation you know more and have more experience than the other guy, then you’re the expert.
You’ve worked hard and done well. Thank God. You’re certainly qualified to pass on some of that hard-won experience and knowledge, be it here or at a seminar or where ever. Go for it.
Oh, and you’ve still got to put your 10, 000 hours in. (Outlier reference)
I’m kind of torn on this.
First off, I think you have every right to do exactly as you please and go forth with what you know and have learned and teach that to others. Everyone can learn from everyone else, frankly.
::tries hard to keep this next part brief::
There is a writer of my personal acquaintance that I will call “Leslie”. I first met Leslie years ago. Leslie delivered a speech about how s/he was such hot stuff for being ZOMG!Published! but everyone who bought Leslie’s book at the conference returned it to the bookstore because it was poorly written and unreadable. Leslie kept suffering from being in the right place at the right time and being a very good self-promoter. A better self-promoter than a writer.
Now Leslie has a bit of a sycophantic following and has made statements about how s/he is quite literally One Of The Great Thinkers Of Our Age. Leslie now makes political and religious diktats on a bi-weekly basis that belittle pretty much everyone who isn’t Leslie.
THAT’s what I have a problem with. The whole delusions of grandeur thing. Being published is a thing that an author should take pride in. It’s up there as some of the best acknowledgement of the author’s work and ability. But this isn’t the 18th Century. A published book doesn’t automatically make you C.S. Lewis.
Katherine makes a good point. Being published is definitely a step forward, but, Mike, you had good things to say even before your fiction got in print. Those of us who have been your blog visitors “before” know this is true.
At the same time, I agree with Merrie. Your status as a published author draws other people’s attention to the fact that you have an experience from which they can gain, if you’re willing to share what you’ve learned.
In fact, you undoubtedly do know more now. Some of your experience has validated your previous beliefs, and some may have called them into question. At any rate, you are now in a bigger spotlight, and people will want to hear from you. And as it happens, you have the ability to speak as well as write, so it seems a natural that you bring the two together.
About those “friends” who drop off? It even happens to non-published crit partners and editors. Trust me. I know. 😉
Becky
To clarify:
I wasn’t AT ALL saying that “Mike=Leslie” or that any author who speaks/teaches is Leslie.
I seek out published authors in part because I want to know how they went to the next step, what skills and tasks they employed to get there and what advice they have. That’s valuable wisdom and those who share it are generous.
I’m just whinging about the small percentage of published authors who think that their Trade Paperback makes them Jonas Salk.
Katherine, does this mean you don’t think I’m One Of The Great Thinkers Of Our Age?
That’s funnier if you add the trademark:
Mike Duran: One Of The Great Thinkers Of Our Age™
Hint: Alt+0153 on the numberpad if you’re on a full windows keyboard.
I can’t ever tell unless Leslie declares it, to be honest. Those decisions, I’m afraid, are all up to Leslie now. 🙂
Wait a minute. Merrie Destefano said that?
Well what does she know anyhow?
Wow. Armchair dismissal is fun and easy. No wonder all the jerks like me do it! 😉
Hang in there, Mike. Someday you’ll have something non-controversial to say – I’m almost sure of it. Keep hope alive!
Nobody likes an arrogant asshole, but you aren’t an arrogant asshole. You’ve been very kind to me, and I value your advice. Could somebody with 20 yrs of publishing experience give better advice? Probably. But when should you decide it’s time to begin? When is it time to stop putting things off and call yourself a professional? I’d say you should begin right now–because you’re in the arena–just not mentally (or you wouldn’t have written this article).
I sorely hope being an outlier is a sign of success because I’ve been that my entire life. I’d like to see it work for me rather than against, for a change.
“Am I an arrogant S.O.B. for telling them this? I get published and suddenly I think I’m an expert. I mean, who am I to say what’s good writing or bad writing?”
You did exactly what you told them you’d do–read the manuscript and determine whether or not you could recommend it to your agent, whose standards and taste you probably know pretty well. Expressing your opinion as a writer, based on your study and experience, is very different from declaring yourself God’s Gift to Literature.
If people turn to you for advice, they see you as an authority, on some level, and you do your best to provide them good counsel. If their questions exceed your capabilities, you refer them to somebody you trust who might have a better answer.
The line between confidence and arrogance can seem pretty fuzzy sometimes, particularly in the Christian community. Oftentimes, we accept confidence and an air of authority from people in agreement with us, but label the same behavior pride and arrogance in those who disagree with us.
Fact is we’re always learning, and usually from someone else. Fact is, many times we learned that for free, save paid classes of some sort. Or buying someone’s book. But many times a more experienced writer will take us under their wings or offer advice for free. And fact is, we have an obligation to pay forward what we’ve learned, and to do so humbly, not based on pride or arrogance.
But I don’t care if you are J. K. Rowling. You should never stop learning because your craft can always be improved. And sometimes you can learn things from the most unlikely of sources.
I remember being on a panel at FenCon, and in walks some writers to sit down in the audience whose names if I mentioned them you would likely know. I prayed that I didn’t say something really stupid. Luckily, I believe I actually sounded smart. *whew* But I thought that while I didn’t have their experience in this publishing game, at least they didn’t have my experience either, and so I, so everyone can offer something for others to learn from no matter how experienced they are.
And then there is the flip side of the coin which Dean Wesley just blogged about today. Don’t just automatically accept everything a writer says is so. Think for yourself. Find out what works for you best. Question everyone. Then you can take advice from inexperienced writers and weed out what doesn’t apply.
Mike, dude, we’re COUNTING on the fact that you’re an expert now! Hee. Seriously, I love hearing from writers all over the spectrum. Some are more advanced than me, some behind. What better ministry than to teach from your own mistakes (for those who are willing to learn from them!)?
I remember the first time I was asked to teach at a writers conference (the old Glorieta one, held outside Santa Fe). I not only felt woefully bereft of usuable knowledge, but also wondered if I’d have the skills to even engage the students, for not one, but three workshops. I did them, but not without fear and trembling (or as my Kentucky granny used to put it, “as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs”).
Somehow it must have worked, as the organizers asked me back the following two years. And every time I wondered if they were making a huge mistake, and had me mixed up with a REAL writer.
We scribes are a neurotic lot, eh? *s*
One aspect of this reminds me of a book I’m currently enjoying: The Invisible Gorilla by Chabris & Simons. In the same vein as Gladwell’s work, these two psychologists explain how we fool ourselves by trusting certain common intuitions & judgments that, in fact, are erroneous. In one chapter, they explore the topic of Confidence. Short version: People who *act* confidently are much more likely to be perceived by others as experts. As a culture, we tend to place our trust in (or even worship) displays of Confidence. Unfortunately, Chabris & Simons also point to evidence that Confidence & Actual Expertise are two different things. And so the dark side of confidence is Overconfidence (on the part of the “expert”) and Misplaced Confidence (on the part of the followers who fall for the allure of certainty…thus the term: “con man”)
The sad truth is that Confidence does persuade… but we have to be discerning between Apparent Expertise, and Genuine Expertise.
Wisely spoken Alan O
Alan, interesting observations. I’m thinking of this more in terms of a writer who’s trying to “turn the corner” from peer to “published” peer, maybe even to full-time career author. At some point in that transition, an author must exercise some confidence — whether genuine, feigned, wishful, or contrived — in themselves and their abilities. I don’t see how a writer can “climb the ladder” without at some point exercising authority. Kind of like a professional athlete. The biggest hurdle for a rookie is ACTING like and BELIEVING that they can compete with the big boys. Some may interpret that as cockiness and swagger. And it might be. But at some point Confidence in one’s talents and abilities IS necessary for career advance.
A follow-up question could be: How does someone discern “between Apparent Expertise, and Genuine Expertise” when it comes to writing. I mean, how many books / bestsellers must one publish, awards must one receive, or years in the business must one have before they pass that “Genuine Expertise” line?
Thanks for writing, Alan!
Hey, Mike. Yep, I get your main point: Confidence is an asset to career progression, no doubt. I’m just saying that confidence can be “manufactured” or incommensurate with the actual level of talent (a la Katherine’s “Leslie”); in which case it rings hollow… or confidence can be a legitimate by-product of proven competence. A beginner who finishes the first draft of a novel should feel good about that accomplishment…take confidence from it, and tackle the next step: a second draft. And so on and so on. Each step along the path should build confidence, based on the attainment of hard-earned skills.
Chabris & Simons in the Invisible Gorilla also mention the flip-side: underconfidence exists, too. But research shows that people in all endeavors (chess players, athletes, managers, physicians, etc) are more prone to overestimate their own competence. And, interestingly, that effect is stronger when the person is *just beginning to learn the skill.* For example, both beginning and expert chess players tend to overestimate their own strength, as judged by the numerical ranking system of chess. But, beginners overestimate their skill by a far wider margin than experts. So, those who achieve mastery in a skill gain a more accurate (though still optimistic) view of their own capacity.
Confidence–feigned or real– is a two-edged sword. It may actually lead to greater success, and it can be persuasive to observers. But, as you described in your original post, it can also result in others accusing the Emperor of having no clothes!
As for the question of writing, I think that’s tough, because unlike sports, or chess, or some other activities, there are no universally agreed upon ranking systems for the “strength” of a writer. Getting back to the Subjective/Objective thing again…
Been there. Actually am there, and I won’t go into further detail.
The cost of success is separation
As Brian Keene about that one, sometime….
Hey Kevin, I sent you an email but haven’t heard from you. I need a mail address to send the book you won. Email me, OK?
I was pretty sure I responded. I’ll check again…
I’d say getting a book traditionally published qualifies the author as an authority.
Snooki got a book traditionally published.
“So when does a published author become an ‘authority’ on writing?”
By definition: 2. a power or right delegated or given; 5. an accepted source of information, advice, etc. (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/authority)
The definition implies that an authority becomes one when others decide he or she is an authority. The problem is that when some people make such a declaration, they sometimes expect favors and when the favor doesn’t alight, then the authority is revoked.
I think Jesus sorta experienced this effect…
I think this whole issue is often tied to the wrongheaded belief that being “traditionally” published somehow validates a person. So what? No offense to those who have published with a “house,” but just because some gatekeeper accepts your manuscript doesn’t make you an expert or authority. Having something to say or a story to tell that is articulate, truthful, relevant, and clear – and a track record to back it up – now that is something else. I don’t know you well enough, Mike, to call you an expert (and could care less if you have a 2 book or 20 book contract), but from what I’ve read your message is articulate, truthful, relevant, and clear. And it seems to have been so for some time. To me, this is good enough.
That’s a nice thing about my friends: sure, they’ll tell me directly if they think a story sucks. But with me getting published (appearing in an anthology, as well as being published), they’re elated, not jealous.
I guess it’s just another example of how God’s blessed me.