So this happened. Like a week ago. I haven’t commented in the comments on the original post because I was initially caught up in other things. Yet the blog entry has lain there in my frontal lobe like a dry and jagged splinter, poking the gray matter into a bloody mess. So I’m writing about it now.
The original blog post by Mike Duran is one of those “funny” things that people write occassionally in an attempt to satirize the environment. Unfortunately I think that a lot of times the humour ends up being at the expense of already-vulnerable people.
The original post is “the top 5 clichés used by Christian writers” and makes a lot of hay out of the fact that Christian writers don’t get published because their stuff isn’t that good but they use God’s Will as an excuse.
Whenever a published writer makes fun of unpublished writers it really makes me angry. Getting published is like winning the lottery; yes, some people have better stuff, but that’s really only the equivalent of having enough cash on hand to buy more tickets. Ultimately the difference between what gets picked up by a traditional press (small or large) and what doesn’t comes down to who you know or what you know or how much time and money you had to put into chasing down agents and going to conferences.
There are a lot of writers out there who are at the stage of their life where they have other priorities. Yes, they’re writers and they are writing as God called them (or fate directed them or whatever your belief system is that drives you to strive). But they are also raising babies who won’t be babies forever. Duran is published, but I’ll happily point out that he didn’t start writing or get published until his children were grown and out of the house. It’s easy to mock someone twenty years younger who is in a different place in her life.
Everyone is different, and everyone has a different path. Author Eric Wilson got an agent and a publishing deal out of his reviews on Amazon. Author Jennifer Weiner got a publishing deal because she went to an Ivy League school and knew someone who knew someone at Seventeen Magazine. Are we going to make fun of everyone who doesn’t go to an Ivy League School or who doesn’t spend hours a week reviewing Christian fiction on Amazon?
My path is different from a lot of people’s. I have books that were published as work-for-hire in the early 2000s. I could mock anyone whose book didn’t sell 20,000 copies like each of mine did but then I’d not be truthful about the fact that my book was packaged in a kit which people likely bought as much for the decorative coasters. My fiction will get published someday, but I’m not yet sure how. I just go about my life and do as God directs. In the meantime I’d like to think that I won’t derive self-satisfaction at the expense of people on a different road.
I should probably not reply here, as I was one who kinda agreed with Mike. Although, I TOTALLY see your point about the way it was handled–about generalizing and it coming across as him making fun of unpublished authors. I don’t think that was his intent, though. (I now step out from between ya’ll since yer grown-ups.)
I think I reacted so strongly to his post because I’ve seen those excuses wielded in such pious ways among writers–offensively rather than defensively. “I write for an audience of ONE.” (translated: “You heathen.”) Or used BY published authors to “console” unpublished authors looking for real guidance and advice.
I think, just like stereotypes, cliches start with at least one foot in the truth, but then get twisted and stretched and become overused generalizations. When you roll it back to the truth, there is everything you say. People start the journey at different times in their lives, sometimes things just happen by luck or connections, etc. God really does lead us down different paths and His time is not always our time, His purpose not always our purpose. I just can’t spend years of tail-busting and hair-pulling and then shrug it off with, “Hm, guess it wasn’t God’s will. Oh, well, what’s on HGTV today?”
The cliches, to me, become platitudes when overused and take away all the meaning there actually IS to the truth of putting God first, having to wait for His timing, etc. When we discover it’s really NOT God’s will that we become a writer, or become the author we thought we’d be, to have it reduced to a cliche is demeaning. It’s a hard place to be, and too often the words are spoken in a way that makes it sound “easy.”
I both agree and disagree. I used to work at a Christian publishing house; I spent many 8-hour days answering sub queries that were written in that tone of voice. “You better publish this because these words come direct from God.”
The thing is that to me the topic is serious and sensitive enough that the approach of “humour” seemed…off.
Because this is really a serious subject–probably the most serious that we deal with as Christian writers (writers who are Christians). What is God’s will vs. What is our desire? When is it still God’s will even if we feel like earthly failures? What is the true measure of success for a Christian who writes?
I’ve seen writers who are Christians who have what would appear to be very little earthly success. They’re not on shelves behind glossy covers and they’re not speaking on panels. But they do the work of God and do what God has called them to.
I’m not trying to toot my own horn but I do find myself in a position where i’m able to see God working through what I do and through what I write even if it’s “not a big deal”. I read Mike’s “humourous” take and many of the comments as a mocking of my call and my process of following the Lord’s will for my life.
Well said, and I think we both are seeing the same issue on both sides–taking humor and making light of serious things, or using cliches to make light of serious things.
And I definitely know writers who are touching lives without being in the spotlight at all. I’ve got a brilliant writer friend who actually wrote a pocket devotional on that very subject because she’s finding that her writing has done the most work for God “behind the scenes.” And recently she decided that she had to give up investing so much as another dime in her writing because God was calling her away from it. It’s been a huge struggle for her. And hard for those who love her to watch her struggle with the idea that what she’s believed for years and years was God’s calling for her was not.
My own journey has been really odd in that matter, too. I started off with what I thought was a call to write a novel. I ended up finding much more success–both in getting published and making money on those published stories–in personal experience stories written for religious magazines. I began to wonder if God wanted me to do *that* and had only used the drive to write a novel to lead me to the other. Then those markets suddenly dried up, and I’ve felt no drive whatsoever to write more stories like that. The only thing I am ever inspired to write anymore, other than blogging and apparently long-winded comments
, is fiction. So what does that say about God’s call for me?
Anyway, I maintain God has dragged me kicking and screaming through a lot during this process, and I know He’s had intentions I can’t even fathom. The coolest part is that I have *learned* a lot I wouldn’t have learned going another path, and made friends that I wouldn’t necessarily have made otherwise. It’s not always easy to see the positives, but when I do see them, they are substantial
.
Yes, this is what so many don’t acknowledge: the situational aspect of publishing. The right product–>the right person–>the right time. I felt the list was a little insensitive to people who quite possibly have worked very hard and are simply finding ways to come to terms with their failures.
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I agree with you, but I also agree with him, too. I guess for a different reason though. There’s a danger that using God’s will in this matter can lead to a mindset where ultimately your effort plays very little part in the success or failure of things. You can actually become cynical and feel powerless because your failures aren’t something you can change, but rely on God’s will or action to. I think depending on how fundamentalist your upbringing was, it resonates more;
I think Mike was trying to be jokey about a subject where it’s really subtle and full of pitfalls. He does that; he can observe some very insightful things, but sometimes the tone he uses can jar with it.
I was in no way saying “You Suck More Than I Do” in that post. So having my name attached to that is kinda weird. I actually consider myself one of those “writers out there who are at the stage of their life where they have other priorities.” Primarily because I work 40 hours a week outside the home. You wrote, “Duran is published, but I’ll happily point out that he didn’t start writing or get published until his children were grown and out of the house. It’s easy to mock someone twenty years younger who is in a different place in her life.” How do you know this, Katherine? And why do you “happily” point this out? Two of my children, Jon and Alayna, lived at home, with Christopher part-time while he finished college, when I started writing and first got published. I guess “thick skin” is the motto here, right?
Have to say I backed away from your article for two reasons: I picked up the “I’m published = I’m better than them” vibe, and there were enough familiar attitudes/truth to be depressing.
Trying to follow Jesus, working out this call to art and writing – along with everything else – is tough enough. The article struck me as poking the hornet’s nest for no other reason than seeing how many people get stung.
Maybe I’m overly sensitive, and yes, “thick skin” should the motto in internet exchanges, but I’ve lost all interest in the debate.
No slag intended, Mike. It’s just how it felt.
You make some good points. It is a sensitive subject. And personally, I’ve found myself making generalizations, and stereotyping, and commenting on things when I should really just keep my mouth shut, and quite frankly, it gets to the point where I annoy myself. So I’m trying to be better about avoiding certain topics.
Wot she said.
I should probably do this as well. I just figured that in this case I had to say something because of how troubling it continued to be.
And that’s fine, IMO.