Just a few random observances of what my life as a published author has been like compared to what I had expected or hoped for. Keep in mind that I can only speak for my own experiences as a debut novelist with a large independent U.S. publisher. Your mileage may vary.
To summarize, I quote the great Bruce Springsteen: “There I was one night, just a normal guy. And then, there I was the next night. Goddamn, I was still just a normal guy.”
And now, Five Things That Don’t Happen When You Become a Published Author:
1. Money does not suddenly rain down from the sky. Well, it hasn’t for me, at least. I’m sure it has for Naomi Novik, whose debut novel was optioned by the great Peter Jackson. And I suspect Gordon Dahlquist, whose debut novel The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters earned a gajillion-dollar advance from Bantam, isn’t clipping coupons right now. But as my buddy Tobias Buckell revealed in his author first novel advance survey, first novel advances in SF/F are actually rather paltry — $5,000 on average.
Über-blogger and Campbell Award winner John Scalzi reveals that he made $67,000 off his SF writing in 2006. Now $67,000 is nothing to scoff at, and I suspect Mr. Scalzi’s take will only be going up in the next few years, but don’t forget that publishers don’t pay benefits.
Not only is it unlikely you’ll get richer writing novels, it’s likely you’ll get poorer. Why? Because chances are you passed up on much more lucrative opportunities to devote time to your writing. And you probably spent a wad of your own cash promoting your book.
2. Your career worries do not melt away. I made a conscious decision to quit my full-time job in November of 2000 and carve out time to write. Since then, I’ve been doing a series of contract and part-time jobs that take up between two and four days of my week.
But the problem for the Writer With a Day Job is that the folks at the Day Job wonder how committed you are to their work. It’s a fair question. I try very, very hard to segregate my working and writing lives, but I’d be lying if I claimed I’ve never opened Microsoft Word in the middle of a meeting to frantically dash out plot points that suddenly popped into my head.
So many writers find themselves in career limbo. You’re not likely to make a good living writing novels; but to give up the writing to concentrate on climbing the ladder in your day job is unthinkable. The result? A juggling act.
3. Your lifestyle and self-image do not dramatically shift. Before I was published, I had a lot of thoughts about how different things were going to be once I was published. I’m going to read more, I’m going to eat better, I’m finally going to paint over those ugly water stains on the ceiling in the basement, little blue Sport & Health Club Pixies are going to wake me up every morning and whisk me off to the gym on a magic cloud.
Needless to say, this hasn’t happened. I’m very happy that I get to devote time to doing something I love. But I felt the exact same way about writing before I made any money at it. The big shift in your self-perception comes when you actually make a commitment to your writing, not when someone finally writes you a check for it.
4. Writing does not suddenly become easy. All that self-doubt you had when you finished your first novel and wondered if it was any good… that’s all still there when you write the second one. Yes, it’s reassuring to know that you’re capable of writing a book that publishers won’t spit upon on sight. But those worries get replaced by a whole new set of worries. E.g. “is this book going to suck compared to my last book?”, “what if nobody buys this book?”, “what if my editor hates it?”, etc.
In fact, in some ways, writing becomes more difficult once you’re published. Because now you realize that there’s an audience out there with some set of expectations that you can’t completely ignore. Plus you’ve already used up most of your best writing tricks, and you’re going to have to think up brand new ones.
5. Your friendships and relationships don’t undergo a sudden transformation. I don’t think anyone is under the illusion that publishing a novel will heal those decades-long family rifts. Old girlfriends and boyfriends are not suddenly going to call you up and admit that they were wrong about you all those years ago. Your wife will not wake up one morning after spotting your book in Borders, give you a thoughtful look, and declare that you were right to have dragged your feet about getting dogs for so long.
I was prepared for all that. But I wasn’t prepared for the fact that people who didn’t see any value in my writing a novel didn’t see any value in my publishing a novel either. (And if you’ve written a science fiction novel, that certainly doesn’t help matters.) Getting a book on the shelf of Barnes & Noble didn’t change anyone’s mind. The people who were proud and supportive of me are largely the ones who were proud and supportive from the very beginning.
—
Coming soon… Five Things That Do Happen When You Become a Published Writer.