(no subject)
Apr. 13th, 2015 01:11 pmFor reasons I have been thinking some about risk-taking. Mostly literary risk, but I took a risk the other day that I don't want to talk about in public for reasons, which came back last night to bite me hard (people suck), and that wasn't literary in any way.
I have a story all finished and edited and ready to be published. Have had since like January. It is not published because I have not formatted it for Kindle and Smashwords. Formatting it for Kindle and Smashwords means starting that run up to the cliff, knowing my momentum will carry me over the edge—and I have been down this way before, and I know what's down there. Echoing silence is what's down there, and $2.04 in royalties per good month. Which is of course the figure for my previous self-publishing venture, A Dinner of Herbs, which is a $2.99 ebook of short stories, two mine, two Anne B. Walsh's. (We split the money 50/50.) I'm talking about a single short story which will get a $0.99 price tag. So unless this story is wildly more popular than that collection... So formatting the story for Kindle and Smashwords, and figuring out a cover image and whatnot, are a risk I don't want to take.
I have a story all finished and ready to be edited, and I know lots of what's wrong with it. Have had and have done since like September. It is not edited because fuck knows why. There's a professional editor who owes me a story critique thanks to an Indiegogo I supported, and I continue not sending her this story because I want her to see the good draft, not to reiterate the problems I already know are there with the first draft. But to fix the problems that exist, I basically need to rewrite from scratch. I have done that in the past but I've never had a complete draft when I started the new draft. That's not risking negative consequences, that's there will definitely be negative consequences. "Kill your literary darlings", they say, and it will be a better story once I fix the things... But both editing the story myself and sending it to the professional editor are risks I don't want to take.
I have I don't even know anymore how many stories in progress. Finishing one—any one, of any length—is a risk. Stories in my head are flawless, peerless. Stories outside my head are...not. They can be critiqued, criticized. They can be disliked. They can be hurtful, to others and to myself. But I mean it when I say I want social-justice-conscious artistry to be my life's work. The problem is that finishing these stories, or any stories, are risks I don't want to take.
I need to.
And the risk that bit me last night hasn't killed me yet. Upset me thoroughly, yes; possibly to the point of physical illness—jury's still out on that. But hasn't killed me and isn't going to. And if I can take that risk and survive it, I can survive taking these other risks.
Right?
I have a story all finished and edited and ready to be published. Have had since like January. It is not published because I have not formatted it for Kindle and Smashwords. Formatting it for Kindle and Smashwords means starting that run up to the cliff, knowing my momentum will carry me over the edge—and I have been down this way before, and I know what's down there. Echoing silence is what's down there, and $2.04 in royalties per good month. Which is of course the figure for my previous self-publishing venture, A Dinner of Herbs, which is a $2.99 ebook of short stories, two mine, two Anne B. Walsh's. (We split the money 50/50.) I'm talking about a single short story which will get a $0.99 price tag. So unless this story is wildly more popular than that collection... So formatting the story for Kindle and Smashwords, and figuring out a cover image and whatnot, are a risk I don't want to take.
I have a story all finished and ready to be edited, and I know lots of what's wrong with it. Have had and have done since like September. It is not edited because fuck knows why. There's a professional editor who owes me a story critique thanks to an Indiegogo I supported, and I continue not sending her this story because I want her to see the good draft, not to reiterate the problems I already know are there with the first draft. But to fix the problems that exist, I basically need to rewrite from scratch. I have done that in the past but I've never had a complete draft when I started the new draft. That's not risking negative consequences, that's there will definitely be negative consequences. "Kill your literary darlings", they say, and it will be a better story once I fix the things... But both editing the story myself and sending it to the professional editor are risks I don't want to take.
I have I don't even know anymore how many stories in progress. Finishing one—any one, of any length—is a risk. Stories in my head are flawless, peerless. Stories outside my head are...not. They can be critiqued, criticized. They can be disliked. They can be hurtful, to others and to myself. But I mean it when I say I want social-justice-conscious artistry to be my life's work. The problem is that finishing these stories, or any stories, are risks I don't want to take.
I need to.
And the risk that bit me last night hasn't killed me yet. Upset me thoroughly, yes; possibly to the point of physical illness—jury's still out on that. But hasn't killed me and isn't going to. And if I can take that risk and survive it, I can survive taking these other risks.
Right?