Five Things to Remember

BENJAMIN LEROY

Hello everybody. I'm in that, Well, the holidays are over, but real work really doesn't start until Monday phase, and I guess that's got me a little introspective and chatty. Some of this has to do with publishing, other parts, not so much.

Happy 2014, here's a list.

 

• That book you’re writing? It has to be from the gut. Do not recycle plots from tv shows, movies, other books, etc. that you think other people will like. Write what matters to you and write it true to your vision. Chasing trends might work for somebody, but it fails for a bunch of other people. You’ve got a limited amount of years with your life, spend them doing things you won’t regret on your deathbed.

 

• Anybody that tells you books are simply “commodities” is full of shit. I know I’m preaching to the choir, but books are special. At least, great books are. They’re transformative, they’re life altering, they’re perspective changing, and they give us a chance to  examine who we are and the world we live in. If you’re one of the people protesting with a, “but, but, they’re widgets, they’re interchangeable products to temporarily amuse/entertain the masses," I’ve got a middle finger for you and your entertainment.

 

• Nobody ever stayed famous for being an asshole on the internet. You wrote a book? Somebody didn’t like it? Throwing a public temper tantrum on Amazon or Goodreads because your snowflake wasn’t celebrated the way you want it to be? Poor form. You’re better than that. And if you’re not, then get the hell out of the way for the grownups.

 

• I don’t like okra. I’ve had it fried. I’ve had it snuck into bigger dishes where, when I stumble upon it, it ruins the whole thing. What I’m telling you is that—okra isn’t for me. You could put together a coalition of one million people telling me how good okra is and that this particular okra is the best okra and it wouldn’t matter. It’s nothing personal against the preparer, I just don’t like okra. I respect that others will have a different opinion. And that brings me to this—The validation for your life is not in the power of gatekeepers in the publishing industry. If one hundred agents and publishers pass on your book, that doesn’t make you a bad person or a failure, it simply means your book, as written, is like okra to me. YOU ARE NOT THE OPINION OF OTHERS ABOUT YOUR BOOK. Eat that. Digest it.

 

• A whole bunch of really crazy stuff, subject to coincidences, luck, chance, and impossible to calculate calculations happened to get you here, right now. Be mindful of that. Some mornings are harder to shake than others. Some nights close in faster than we’d like. There are speed bumps and distractions around every corner. But so are the Grand Canyon, stars, millions of miles of highway, seven billion people, and an infinite collection of forks in the road for you to choose. When one doesn’t work, go a different way. Throwing your hands in the air and believing you are stuck is the only thing that makes it true. But remember—you can always pick a different path, you can always back up or run over walls or, as our friend Nemo is told, just keep swimming. A new year is a great time to evaluate your life and make resolutions. But so is a new day. A new hour. Waiting for arbitrary rolling of the calendar is fun and clickbait for Yahoo, but it’s not a good excuse. If you see something is wrong, stop. If there’s something you want to explore, throw on your headlamp and go.

 

Benjamin LeRoy writes about the publishing industry, writing, traveling, and a bunch of other stuff on his website. Right now he's working on a really big project and he hopes you might be able to help. www.benjaminleroy.com

 

Comments

[Janet Reid]

How come you're always saying what I think, only more cogently. Lack of okra mebbe. Keesp you nimble.

[Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt]

Writing from the gut HURTS. But it is also incredibly satisfying.

As one who won't be published in novel form until she is 65, I know it has to be right - I don't have all that time the whippersnappers have to futz around.

Which is fine by me (as they say in NJ).