Falling Trees & Unpublished Books

[Paul Whybrow]

As I near writing the end of my fourth novel, I have a slightly hollow sense of achievement. Most people say something about having a book in them, but never do anything about writing it. Since returning to creative writing in 2013 I've been prolific, but that's partly because I have the freedom to write constantly; it's all I do!

I'm glad of the short stories, novellas, novels, poetry and song lyrics I've produced, and was spurred on by an observation from 19th-century poet John Greenleaf Whittier:

For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been.'

All the same, even though my writing exists, it floats in a vacuum. Sure, I've self-published 44 titles online, but they're snowflakes in a blizzard of other writers' books. As for querying literary agents, with a view to getting a traditional publishing deal, that further hammers home the disquieting feeling that my novels are abstract concepts.

They're poked like dead fish, by suspicious hands to see if they're worthy of being in the market. This completely ignores thousands of hours of work I put in to make them and even passes over that they might be perfectly readable stories. The decisive factor is are they marketable?

It reminds me of that conundrum:

If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is there to hear it fall, does it make a noise?'

With my books it would be:

'If a writer writes a book, and no gets to read it, does it exist as a story?'

I'm off to play a pitiable lament on my violin now—avoiding forest glades—I don't trust my luck!

Do any of you ever feel like you and your books don't exist?

 

[Katie-Ellen]

I definitely exist, I'm constantly asked to do or sort stuff, and so do you exist, and that is a lot of writing, Paul. Gracious me, RESPECT.

 

[Richard Turner]

As I near writing the end of my fourth novel, I have a slightly hollow sense of achievement. Most people say something about having a book in them, but never do anything about writing it. Since returning to creative writing in 2013 I've been prolific, but that's partly because I have the freedom to write constantly; it's all I do!

I'm glad of the short stories, novellas, novels, poetry and song lyrics I've produced, and was spurred on by an observation from 19th-century poet John Greenleaf Whittier:

For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been.'

All the same, even though my writing exists, it floats in a vacuum. Sure, I've self-published 44 titles online, but they're snowflakes in a blizzard of other writers' books. As for querying literary agents, with a view to getting a traditional publishing deal, that further hammers home the disquieting feeling that my novels are abstract concepts.

They're poked like dead fish, by suspicious hands to see if they're worthy of being in the market. This completely ignores thousands of hours of work I put in to make them and even passes over that they might be perfectly readable stories. The decisive factor is are they marketable?

It reminds me of that conundrum:

If a tree falls in the forest, and no one is there to hear it fall, does it make a noise?'

With my books it would be:

'If a writer writes a book, and no gets to read it, does it exist as a story?'

I'm off to play a pitiable lament on my violin now—avoiding forest glades—I don't trust my luck!

Do any of you ever feel like you and your books don't exist?

I do sympathise with how you feel. I take a lot of photographs - mainly of birds. I made some desultory attempts to publicise them, but soon decided that I didn't really need other people to see them. The joy is in the moment of capture combined with the digital development on the computer. Unless you are a diarist, writing is different. When you take a photograph you capture a point in time and space. It is an act of enclosing. Writing - at least prose writing - can be seen as the opposite, an act of exposure. Writing is essentially a medium of communication, and you can't communicate without an audience. Yes, I do feel that my two books have little substance - pale creatures in some dark place waiting for readers to let the light in and make them real.
I don't feel able to write poetry, but if that is something you can do isn't that more like photography in that you are capturing an image? I don't re-read my novels for pleasure. They are intended for others to read, but I can imagine re-reading poetry for pleasure.

 

[1408]

It's an odd thing, but I never felt achievement or pride after finishing my first novel. Maybe it's because it's part of a trilogy. Can any series writers chime in on this? Do you need to finish the entire lot before you feel worthy of that feet-up cuppa?

As for you, Paul, you definitely exist and your stories not only existed inside you but you gave them life. That's a pretty cool thing, to take an idea and stoke it with air until there's a fire and then oh lord no this is paper and fire and maybe the stoking imagery wasn't the best, but, you get me.

But I understand what you're saying, and as Richard pointed out, writing is communication. You're inviting someone to your world and if no one is knocking when you have all the fine china out it can feel disheartening. But I think there are a number of different things going on here, and just because so far it hasn't been seen as marketable (and lord knows what is and isn't changes often) it doesn't take away it's medal of being a story.

Lastly, maybe if you hadn't written as much as you have you wouldn't be treating us here to your posts. They might not be your stories but they exist from you as a writer who gains experience with each story you write. Thanks for that!

 

[Patricia D]

Of course you exist, Paul, and your stories exist because you wrote them. We all have bad moments, but in the end, don't you get pleasure from writing, a sense of satisfaction from completing a book or a story or even from getting the absolute right word?

 

[Katie-Ellen]

Loneliness is corrosive. I had a spell of what felt like house arrest almost, could only manage a few yards on my feet, errands in town took careful timing. But the postmen, Les or Dave, used to knock and walk straight into the kitchen, and stop and chat. So did other delivery people and people coming for readings, tap and walk in. Out and about there was always someone - a total stranger- would come to talk or even run over the road, seeing me struggling, and offer to carry something. Once it was a man who looked like a real ruffian with a huge tattoo on his neck, and he ended up carrying a child's hobbyhorse to the car, and it kept neighing and making other stupid and totally non tough guy noises, hahahha. Old ladies were lovely. People are lovely. Maybe, more rural, there's not enough of that easy daily contact?

 

[Craig Thompson]

I think it's a question of separating the creative part of yourself from the part that requires validation from external sources. I've written fewer books than you, good sir, and I feel a little buzz when the final full stop goes down (before the hateful part of proof-reading and editing begins) but it never lasts very long; therefore, it's important to cherish it as long as it lasts. I try not to think about the physical and emotional effort of writing the book when considering the likelihood of publication, given that years of contact with agents and publishers have yielded few positives. One can only control one's own input or output, and hope that others see the value.

 

[Katie-Ellen]

That's exactly it, Craig.

Do as you do because you want to do it, and for the rest....lap of the gods.

 

[Marc Joan]

I think it's a question of separating the creative part of yourself from the part that requires validation from external sources. I've written fewer books than you, good sir, and I feel a little buzz when the final full stop goes down (before the hateful part of proof-reading and editing begins) but it never lasts very long; therefore, it's important to cherish it as long as it lasts. I try not to think about the physical and emotional effort of writing the book when considering the likelihood of publication, given that years of contact with agents and publishers have yielded few positives. One can only control one's own input or output, and hope that others see the value.

Indeed.