I have been writing for over 30 years and am still finding with each new book, a personal headache.
I am puzzled. To date, I have written two books, they received marvelous reviews and despite my tireless efforts to promote them, they do not sell. Both books have created a stir in the wrong place, amongst my family.
My first book, a novel “Fill My Eyes”, I deliberately set some fifty years back. I am so tired of hearing of “sweeter times”. There is no such animal. These eras were filled with problems, but not cluttered with the technology we have today. One reviewer said, “and can you really admit growing up in a dysfunctional family”. This demonstrates the imperfection of “stumbling down memory lane”. I grew up in one of these so-called “innocent times”, but my family life went to hell when I was eleven.
In “Fill My Eyes”, I deliberately took the worst characteristics of mankind and developed composite characters. The book received a bevy of great reviews, more than I can count, but it also created a major tear in the fabric of my family. I was born and raised in Utah, where the Mormon Church places great emphasis on “family”. Although I no longer consider myself a member of that church, I believe in that absolute tenant and this has been the motivating factor of all my novels. And all my novels are set in my hometown of Salt Lake City. And by using composites, I really hit a nerve in the wrong place.
The strain came from my stepfather. It turned into a nightmare. Nasty and childish little posts on my website for the book and worse—total silence between us.
My second book was written when I was eighteen and green as a spring onion. “Broken Windows, Reflections of a Fool” is an anthology of poetry I wrote about other people. Being young and inexperienced in life, I could not have written the poems without tapping into other people’s lives. The book is about love, unrequited and sometimes dysfunctional. It was first published in audio form by “The Library of Congress” and the original pages sat for years growing yellow and dusty.
I found these old poems and did a test market on various sites to great and sometimes hilarious reviews. Several stated ‘ah cheer up, things will get better”. I never laughed so hard, but realized the poetry was not dated, and I published it in book form. I never expected a poetry book to sell because it is a “niche” market. And it hasn’t despite some great reviews on Amazon and on such sites as “The Author’s Den” for certain poems I posted.
With “Broken Windows”, again the fabric of my family has unraveled. I gave one of my copies to my sister-in-law who enjoys poetry. She refuses to speak of the book. Why? Because I am the type of person that calls “a deuce a deuce” and spare no punches. The book has sexual undertones. And if a particular poem is about a troubled relationship, of course sex is part of the tension.
I am what you might call a “critical success” but a “commercial bomb”. But I keep on writing. I have spent the last two years sporting a flat face from all the literary agency doors slammed in my kisser. I gave up on them, but am starting anew. The agent gets you into the big publishers who control the awards and some of the media. And they have the publicity machine needed to push a book. I know the chances are remote, but I have a tough hide (when I submitted work at a young age, I took the rejections so personally, I broke my #2 pencil in half—or threw my PC out the window) and stopped writing for years.
The struggling novelist wearily, meanders on. His is a bit wiser and somewhat sadder because of the tension created about the core value he writes about, “the breakdown of traditional family values”. I created the rift, so am I hypocrite? I hope not. I hold on to my dreams and continue to write, hoping someday I will have the opportunity to be widely read. I have something to say that is wrongfully overlooked today and it is very important that the word gets out.
In terms of those I offended, “if you can’t beat them, join them?” Sorry, if I offended your delicate sensibilities, is about all I can muster in regards to my family. If I wrote to please everyone, I would not be able to create a simple sentence.
With your talent and imagination, and I know I sound like a broken record, but you're going to make it Terry, I can feel it. I don't know when...but you have so much talent I should hope soon. By raising ire in your family, shows how much your work evokes passion. To answer your question, no you shouldn't. Write what you feel, it's what you always told me. And your opinion means everything to me. Take care.
Mary
Boo,
I'm reminded of the old adage: 'A prophet is without honour in his own country' - a text from the bible, I think, but it says it all when trying to please one's own family/friends.
Like you, few of my family and friends have read my books, despite the free copies I have sent them - and, like you, a couple have had nice reviews (even professional ones), but they do not sell. Unfortunately, like you've observed before, quality writing and commercialism don't neceesarily go hand in hand. For me, one good review is worth thousands - and hang the rest. I have stopped writing because of the lack of supposed success (and lack of interest from family/friends too), but don't you give up, Boo. You are much more talented and dedicated than I - the thirty years shows that. Keep going, mate, and I'm sure some kind of reward awaits you, financial or otherwise.
Martyn
3 WAY MIRROR is about a lost identity as experienced by a twenty-eight-year old who thinks he's Charles Randall, until strange events suggest otherwise.
