Into the Fire

If you’ve stopped by here often enough and read some of my commentaries on the publishing industry or the rules of writing or marketing/self-promotion, you know that I have opinions. Strong opinions. You may not agree with them.

About those opinions of mine, you should know this: I didn’t come by them whimsically. When you’re outside a business looking in, sometimes you are able to evaluate it pragmatically, watching indicators, listening to its business associates, participating in its products without necessarily judging it or falling prey to its hype if there is any. The opinions formed over time either become resolute or change with added knowledge.

Since this is another case of “full disclosure”, I’m probably going to reveal something that will baffle a few of you: I don’t need your approval for my opinions or for my writing. Not that I would intentionally offend you or alienate any of you who do disagree with my opinions or do not prefer my writing style. If you think my opinions are based on lack of information, I can assure you I’ve had running conversations with agents, editors, and authors about the biz, and I didn’t come to my “conclusions” without careful analysis. Does that mean I think I’m always right about the various topics I tackle concerning the publishing industry? No. But it does mean I didn’t blast them out there without a lot of thoughtful investigation.

Regarding my novel writing, I don’t need your critiques. I’ve had a number of “important” individuals give me the responses I wanted to assure me I was reaching the readers I intended to touch. Important is in quotation marks because those individuals are avid readers, some professionals, and consist of people of various adult ages. They are all important to me.

If you got a copy of either of my self-published novels, and you don’t like them for one reason or another, that is understandable. Like most writers I have a particular audience. Not everyone will like my work. I can guess that the prairie romance crowd will definitely not like the references to and the characters who are actively involved in sinful practices and lifestyles. Number two, the eclectic crowd who would be engrossed in novels like My Name Is Russell Fink, or those who read and prefer only SF/F novels or those who like tight, lean writing and can be impatient readers: not my prescribed audience. You’re welcome to tell me why you don’t prefer my style of writing, but don’t offer me ways to change and improve it because your opinion comes from a different mindset than my own. And stop and think about it: I’ve read the novel so many times I can’t count them and have decided this is the final version. This is the novel I want it to be. Call me stubborn. Call me unpublished. Call me unteachable. Call me whatever you like. Just don’t assume that your opinion of my work is technically correct because all it remains to be is your opinion.

Now my first novel could’ve used a lot more editing. It’s definitely a first novel in all respects. However, there’s a good story in there and even some good writing. I stopped counting at 65 characters. The objective was to demonstrate the racetrack community through all of its diverse individuals, horses, and tensions. From that perspective: mission accomplished.

And that’s the thing about a book, you know? Nobody has to read it. And I guess if a book is read and the person doesn’t like it, he/she can return it and get his money back! Isn’t that something? So, if any of you who I have sent free copies of my books to don’t like them, you can always send them back to me. Your choice.

Everyone assumes that a self-published book is inferior. I sent out copies of The Famous One to some individuals I wasn’t sure would like the novel, not to critique and examine it like a less than quality novel but to see if they would enjoy the story and have the patience for the writing style. In the particular service I used and the package I bought, professional editors are assigned to each story to do just that: edit. This book was professionally edited and successfully passed with few changes—none to the story portion of the book. Now if you read it, just like any other commercially published novel, you might not like the story or the writing, but it’s not up for debate. You don’t like it? I understand. I read a lot of books I don’t care for—even books that have won prestigious awards for the writing. But don’t come back to me with how I could’ve made it “better” just because it’s assumed to be inferior at the outset.

Am I sounding defensive here? Maybe so. My point in this is: I no longer believe in the sanctity of the professional processes to be published. It’s relatively easy to spot a less than studied craftsman or an unskilled writer. And editors serve a valued place in writing literature. However, they are each subject to their own preferences and publisher’s needs. They have their favorite styles and formats just like us readers. Many of them are more versatile than others and can work with many types of writers, inserting a change here and there to enhance the work. And who wouldn’t benefit from that kind of relationship with a good editor. But if they don’t “get” you, they don’t get you. And if they don’t get you, they don’t like your writing. End of story.

The classic example in all of this is William P. Young’s The Shack. He calls himself an “accidental author”, knowing his writing skills were somewhat lacking when he composed this bestseller for his children. It was a heartfelt composition describing a personal discovery of the huge concepts of God, and people devoured the little novel. Still are. God used it in all its ragamuffin writing and controversial theology. So what do you have to say about that? Who cares about the writing when a book sells millions of copies? A Christian book no less.

So, in conclusion to this portion of full disclosure I will say plainly with no malice or haughty attitude, but hopefully with an understandable logic: I hope you like my work as a writer of novels, but I don’t need your criticism or your approval of my writing style. It’s your opinion, and you’re entitled to it, but that’s all it is.

Father, thank you for all kinds of readers and writers. Thank you for the privilege and joy of writing. Thank you for stories and ideas given to people by you. Thank you for your directions and leadings. Thank you for being personal and accessible. I’m desperate for you. And you are always here and available. Thank you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.