Sometimes I watch the Twitter-stream and think the New Digital World is a beautiful place. A place of generosity. A place of kindness. In the Sometimes you can almost hear people listening, nodding, patiently waiting their turn to add to the chorus. In the Sometimes, the digital shell dissolves and we’re in a small room together, face to face.
You mention a book. I say I know that book. You say isn’t it the best? I say it’s brilliant.
I sip my orange juice (it’s morning here). You sip your wine (it’s evening there).
How’s that novel of yours coming along? you ask. Slowly, I answer.
Loved your last blog post, I say. I needed to hear that today, you say.
I sip my orange juice. You sip your wine.
We quietly slip back into our lives.
And then there are the Othertimes. In the Othertimes the New Digital World is an ugly place. A place of easy exclusion. A place of selfishness. In the Othertimes I hear silent pronouncements, judgments, snide asides. In the Othertimes the digital shell becomes a wall and we’re only in a room together if I qualify.
You haven’t read Faulkner? Exluded.
You’ve read Twilight? Really? Excluded.
You don’t have an MFA? Excluded.
You don’t have a book deal? I mean a real book deal? Excluded.
It’s pledge week and you weren’t invited. It’s high school and you aren’t cool enough. It’s junior high and you buy your jeans at WalMart.
Oh, there is a cursory kindness. And there are moments when the wall comes down – but instead of a small room it often reveals a stage and they’re on it and you’re not.
In the Othertimes, an excluded novelist (blogger, agent, editor) smiles politely, accepts the Otherness and continues on. But there remains an ache. We don’t want to examine it for fear it’s stamped “jealousy,” but it’s there. Instead, we wave it off as nothing or employ a familiar safety protocol: cognitive dissonance.
We didn’t like that club anyway. They’re snobs. They’re elitists.
They’re successful.
Okay, maybe we do like that club.
A little.
Or a lot.
Maybe we wish we were invited to their literary soirees and their Seurat picnics and their balconies overlooking the sunset Seine. Or maybe we just wish we could sit in a small room and talk face to face. Have you read The Last Letter From Your Lover by Jojo Moyes? you might ask, and you wouldn’t change your opinion no matter what they said; you would say how much you loved it.
They would sip their champagne. You would sip their champagne.
No. You don’t like champagne.
You would sip your tea.
And you would feel better. Cooler.
Accepted.
Would you?
Or you could forget about the Othertimes. Ignore them. Glide right through them. Perhaps you could stop, look around, and realize you’re already in a pretty good club. A club that matters.
Do you write? You qualify. Do you edit? You qualify. Are you an agent? A blogger? You’re in.
Have a seat. We talk about books here. Books and writing and publishing. And chocolate.
We don’t care how many followers you have or where you live or what you’re wearing. You can even use adverbs and sentence fragments here. Freely.
Sometimes the New Digital World is a beautiful place.
Like right now.
So…how’s that novel of yours coming along?
Comments
17 responses to “Welcome to the Club”
Pretty grand. I’m watching Babel tonight because it’s set in Morocco, and the second half of my book is set in Morocco, so we’ll see. Babel is supposed to be a good movie or I wouldn’t bother. It’s not real research; just for fun. Sometimes you have to have fun.
I’m the world’s worst internet snob. I’m not famous or very good at writing (yet), but I think even when/if I am I will be a snob about that. I always seem to find something to be a snob about. When the apostle Paul says he’s the king of sinners, I’ve always found it hard to empathize with that. But I could say I’m the king of snobs.
At least I’m aware.
Sometimes you do have to have fun. And sometimes that means being the king of snobs. It’s okay to engage in snobbery as long as you share your champagne.
You remembered to mention adverbs and sentence fragments but forgot to mention the broken hearts. My entire life rotates about the broken hearts. Okay, maybe it does not.
Thanks for asking about the novel. You do care! Well, I always knew you did. It’s just that I never had the time to let you know that I know. You know? I have stopped querying the first novel and now concentrate on setting up my media platform. But the thing ran into some problems of its own. Nevertheless, I do continue with the second story and a bunch of short things. Some are even funny. I hope I can get things back on their own tracks soon. Then I’ll drop you a line. Or two.
I mention adverbs and fragments at least once a quarter. It’s in my contract.
Yes, I do care. I hope it shows, but even when it doesn’t – it’s still true.
Wishing you much success with getting things on their tracks. (Or building new tracks if the stories tell you to.)
happily, i’m extraordinarily fond of both adverbs and sentence fragments….which is why i like this club. i’m still the sit-in-the-corner type, but not because i feel eejity. 😉
this is a lovely post. i grow exceedingly weary of the Digital World these days. it feels like glitter-spackle and snake-oil salesmen.
my novel is just re-beginning, actually — and i think it’s coming along pretty okay, thanks for asking.
In this club, there are just enough corners for the people who prefer them. Some days the room looks like a star, other days it’s a circle. Best of everything as you re-begin your novel.
More truth than fiction here, Stephen. As usual. Really.
Always happy when the truth and fiction get along. Thanks. As usual. And wishing you all great things with your latest novel. (Love the cover.)
Thanks so much, Stephen. Appreciate it.
This is lovely post! I couldn’t agree more 🙂
You can agree more if you like. There are no limits to agreement in this club.
I have yet to begin my novel, but it’s going to be grand someday.
Yes, it is indeed. Meanwhile, enjoy the possibility-populated world of before.
I have for the time being given up on writing a novel in favour of writing short stories. It’s easier to maintain momentum and short stories are also a lot easier to publish on a blog. When I feel I’m ready I’ll write a novel, but not today.
Short stories, while very different beasts than novels, are great for honing your writing skills and learning about the importance of choosing your words with care. Have fun.
Slowly.
Yep. But slowly is only bad when faced with a publisher-imposed deadline. Without that, slowly can be a grace.