Our driveway in snow and sun |
What would it mean to write for an audience of no one?
As I begin looking for an agent, dropping query letters into
the void, I can’t help asking myself this question.
I’ve written the book. Rewritten it. Made it as good as I
possibly can. Then rewritten it all over again, and made it still better.
What if that turned out to be all?
No matter what comes next, I’m grateful for these things:
1. I have a better
understanding of how hard it is to write fiction. As a literature professor,
I should already know this, but there’s nothing like trying a difficult craft
yourself as a way to cultivate humility. I used to wonder whether scholarship or fiction was harder to write. Now I have my answer: fiction is MUCH harder.
2. I’m reading more. I
read all the time: it’s my job. Since beginning to write fiction, though, I’ve
decided to keep on reading “for fun” right through the thick of every
semester. I’m discovering amazing new books and authors, most of them completely
unrelated to the things I’m an “expert” in.
3. I’ve brought the
story into being. That was what it asked for. I may not have been the right
person to do it, but there was no one else. Even if no one reads it, the fact that it
exists in the world is significant.
4. Sharing my writing with friends and family has been fun -- and incredibly useful. I’ve had generous help and
detailed comments from at least ten different people at this point, and
encouragement from many more.
5. My scholarship is
better. Writing fiction about the material I research has allowed me to see
it in a different way, and given me ideas for new articles – the first of which is
forthcoming in the Journal of Medieval and
Early Modern Studies this spring.
6. I’m learning how
to fail. As I was crying over one of my many drafts, Sam asked me, “is this
the first thing you’ve ever failed at?” That made me stop and think. Yes, I
decided – if we only count things that really matter. That’s amazing,
too: how lucky was I, to avoid significant failure for half my life?
7. I’m writing
something new. There’s a manticore.