So, Fretting in T.O.
Feb. 13th, 2008 09:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
msagaraAren't we supposed to develop calluses as we get older?
When my first book, Into the Dark Lands was published, I read reviews of it with interest, and even when they were substantially negative, it didn't bother me. If they were negative, but they were essentially correct, I'd shrug it off; I didn't take it personally. I just figured that I would get better, with time.
Part of this was full-time work in a bookstore (which followed from part-time work in a book-chain, which I started at age 16); I'd seen so many successes and so many failures, and it seemed there was little rhyme or reason in either – huge publicity campaigns went up in smoke – does anyone remember Ushurak? – and brilliant, brilliant books went O/P in such a short time. Having watched it for years (and taken it some of it personally because damn it, I loved some of those books, and I resent bad things happening to things I love), when my first novel disappeared, I was sad – but again, there was distance; it wasn't personal.
I just kept writing.
But ...when Broken Crown was published, I lost some of that sense of distance between me and what was said about the work.
This seems entirely backward, to me.
But I think that Crown was the first novel I'd written where I felt the book was not so very different from the internal book I'd envisaged when I started setting words to page. Failing because I'd failed, I could live with. Failing when I felt the novel was not a failure? Harder.
It was never enough to stop me from writing – and I'm sure some people regret this – but sometime between the first and fourth book in that series, things actually got worse, which is to say, the level of fretting got higher. The fourth book was late for a variety of family reasons, and I submitted it when I could not stand the sight of a single word. (Although it's generally true that I submit a novel when I cannot stand the sight of a single word; I know I'm just moving them around on the page at that point, and it's to no purpose, so I saddle the long-suffering editor with it.)
I was acutely anxious about Sea of Sorrows because I was absolutely certain that my readers would read it and say: I waited two years for this?
I find it much harder, now, to ego-surf. Because of course the things that stand out are generally the negative things. I find it harder to read reviews, for the same reason. Even when I hit long and intelligent conversations about my books, I'm afraid that they're somehow not worthy of the attention they're being given, and people will of course shortly realize this. I keep adding to my several hundred pages of notes, of time-line, and I cringe when little details fall between the cracks – which they will do, because I started the West novels in 1995.
And since Hidden City is the only novel so far that I've written out of chronological order, I'm certain there are things I've missed. And, also: 4 years between this book and Sun Sword.
So... yes, fretting.
And wondering if anyone else finds that it gets harder with time, rather than the easier it seems, on the surface, it should get.
When my first book, Into the Dark Lands was published, I read reviews of it with interest, and even when they were substantially negative, it didn't bother me. If they were negative, but they were essentially correct, I'd shrug it off; I didn't take it personally. I just figured that I would get better, with time.
Part of this was full-time work in a bookstore (which followed from part-time work in a book-chain, which I started at age 16); I'd seen so many successes and so many failures, and it seemed there was little rhyme or reason in either – huge publicity campaigns went up in smoke – does anyone remember Ushurak? – and brilliant, brilliant books went O/P in such a short time. Having watched it for years (and taken it some of it personally because damn it, I loved some of those books, and I resent bad things happening to things I love), when my first novel disappeared, I was sad – but again, there was distance; it wasn't personal.
I just kept writing.
But ...when Broken Crown was published, I lost some of that sense of distance between me and what was said about the work.
This seems entirely backward, to me.
But I think that Crown was the first novel I'd written where I felt the book was not so very different from the internal book I'd envisaged when I started setting words to page. Failing because I'd failed, I could live with. Failing when I felt the novel was not a failure? Harder.
It was never enough to stop me from writing – and I'm sure some people regret this – but sometime between the first and fourth book in that series, things actually got worse, which is to say, the level of fretting got higher. The fourth book was late for a variety of family reasons, and I submitted it when I could not stand the sight of a single word. (Although it's generally true that I submit a novel when I cannot stand the sight of a single word; I know I'm just moving them around on the page at that point, and it's to no purpose, so I saddle the long-suffering editor with it.)
I was acutely anxious about Sea of Sorrows because I was absolutely certain that my readers would read it and say: I waited two years for this?
I find it much harder, now, to ego-surf. Because of course the things that stand out are generally the negative things. I find it harder to read reviews, for the same reason. Even when I hit long and intelligent conversations about my books, I'm afraid that they're somehow not worthy of the attention they're being given, and people will of course shortly realize this. I keep adding to my several hundred pages of notes, of time-line, and I cringe when little details fall between the cracks – which they will do, because I started the West novels in 1995.
And since Hidden City is the only novel so far that I've written out of chronological order, I'm certain there are things I've missed. And, also: 4 years between this book and Sun Sword.
So... yes, fretting.
And wondering if anyone else finds that it gets harder with time, rather than the easier it seems, on the surface, it should get.
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-14 05:03 pm (UTC)I have to ask: was it easier with your first novels? Was there less fretting?
I admit that I never feel good about a whole book when I send it out, and feel even less good about it when I'm reading page proofs -- nothing like searching for errors to make you feel that the book, in fact, is an error receptacle. But there are always one or two scenes which work so perfectly you can't dismiss the queasiness because if you think they're good, then what you think of the rest of the book is probably also true...
I don't read them when I get them as real books, either. I am both incredibly happy to have them, and incredibly certain that they're deeply flawed. In fact, I usually read them much later, often for research for later books. It's on the later reading that I can read them as if I didn't write them; I've forgotten the disconnect between what I thought should be there and what was actually on the page.
Well, and I'm usually working on something new, which I'm certain will be the Worst Book Ever *wry g*
no subject
Date: 2008-02-14 08:28 pm (UTC)I'd say there was fretting all along, but it feels MORE somehow now. Not like there's a lot more of it (which there may be) but that things matter more. I'm trying to achieve a zen state in writing where I just let things happen. Not really working. And the most frustrating thing is the fretting takes over and robs the joy of the writing. I used to be able to just let myself write in my happy little world, and now that's a lot tougher.
I don't read them after unless I have to research. And you're right, once I get distance, I'm less critical and can enjoy the story more. This last book I turned in I revised hugely after I got my editorial letter--far more than my editor expected I think--because it just felt wrong on a lot of levels. Part of me thinks . . . okay, I've fixed it better. It might be flawed, but it's better. And part of me things . . . whoa! Fuck! did I just completely screw that up by tearing it down and building it ugly? No perspective right at the moment. Waiting to hear from Madame Editor. Sigh.
Well, off to Radcon. Where much fun and commiseration can be had. Hoping for lots of the fun stuff.
Take care,
Di