Accepting reality and living with it

I really don't think the publishing industry owes me a damned thing. I don't think agents owe me anything, either. I'm a grown up girl and realize that just because I want something doesn't mean I'm entitled. I accept that reality. It's living with it that's sometimes difficult. But I accept that, too.

Why do I want to be published?

It has little to do with the sweet yearning at the heart of why I write.

♦ Part of why I want to be published is the need for validation. Except—accepting reality as I do—I know that publication does not equal validation. But getting published sure puts the cork in the mouth of Aunt Minnie who always said I was a fool to try anything in the arts. Who am I kidding? Nothing shuts up the Aunt Minnies of the world. So validation begins to look a little thin as a reason.

♦ Another part of it is so I'll have more than my friends reading my work. Here we're getting to the heart of something juicy. I can't tell you how amazed I was the first time I submitted my work to a public forum and people actually liked it—people who had no vested interest in saying it was good; no fear of hurting my feelings or seeming disloyal. Of course, my work wasn't (and isn't) universally acclaimed, but that was all right, too. Eventually. When I could accept that my first efforts weren't perfect and didn't need to be I took those first steps towards making my work better.

♦ There's also the bit about throwing myself out into the fray to see how I stack up, but the competition angle is not a main driver for me, never has been. I'd love to succeed, will work by butt off to get there, but for me it's not about jumping on someone's head and yelling, "I win!"

And none of the above has anything to do with why I write. Because when I have hit the 22nd chapter mile and realize I've come a long, long way—but still have 4.2 miles to go (or in my case, usually longer), there is nothing in validation, or readership, or competition that can help me get over the hump and finish the marathon. At the 22nd mile, all I know is that I'm tired, sick of the race, and I just want to lie down somewhere and sleep until Kingdom Come. And I swear I will never, ever do another one of these endurance tests.

But I finish. And I start another novel. Why?

After a little time off, a sweet, keening resonance vibrates through my psyche: a character steps out of the darkness and starts whispering his or her story. He shows me pictures of the place he lives; she introduces me to her relatives; he opens the window to the smells, tastes, touches of his reality. She cries out, "Please, give me my chance to live! Give me a shot at reality!"

Characters aren't real, but they do exist off the page: in my heart and imagination. And if I've done my work well, they can temporarily (and sometimes long-term) infect the dream reality of the people who have read my work.

That's why I write: in the hope of that resurrection of dreams. That's why I'll keep trying to get my work out there, despite the pitfalls and discouragement and endemic blues that follow most writers around. I accept the reality that it may not happen for me.

And I can live with that.

Tagged by the book fairy

I may be the last person on earth to do this, but melinda_goodin finally got me.

1. Total number of books owned?

sigh I wouldn't be surprised if it was 2000—or more. And no, none of them are in storage. I have six bookshelves in my one bedroom apartment. I think a visual aid may be in order (since I'm camera obsessive these days):

Visual aid.

[broken link]

This is my combination dining/office/library area and it's a scandal. In addition to the three and a half bookshelves shown here, I have two more 4x4 bookshelves elsewhere in the room. The books stacked sideways are my TBR books. I stopped counting them at around 400. Please note that behind the TBR books the shelves are full of other books. I am a book junkie. I'd hang my head in shame...but I'm not ashamed.

2. The last book I bought?

I bought four at once. This is why my floors are sagging:

♥ One for the Money (A Stephanie Plum Novel) by Janet Evanovich

♥ Found : The Best Lost, Tossed, and Forgotten Items from Around the World by Davy Rothbart

♥ Dead as a Doornail (Southern Vampire Mysteries) by Charlaine Harris

♥ Do You Believe? by Ann Lawrence

3. The last book I read?

Storm Front by Jim Butcher. And I'm about 50 pages away from finishing his Fool Moon. These Dresden Files books are fun.

4. 5 books that mean a lot to me?

As others have said, this is tough and depends on the time of my life...In a way, they all mean a lot to me, even the bad ones, but I'll try to think of 5 that mean a lot to me at this juncture in my life.

♥ Kage Baker's Company series. (Okay, I cheated because that's more than one book, but it's really like one really long novel.) She's funny and profound and earthy and lyrical and a native Californian and I want to be her when I grow up.

♥ The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. It meant a lot to me many years back because it helped me out of writer's block of four years duration.

♥ The Damiano trilogy by R. A. MacAvoy. I'm cheating again, but it's really one big novel. Heartbreaking, beautifully written, sweeping historical fantasy ultimately about the redeeming quality of love. I want to be her when I grow up, too.

♥ A Fine and Private Place and The Innkeeper's Song by Peter S. Beagle (How can you choose just one Beagle?) Oh, and I so want to be him when I grow up.

♥ Andre Norton's Witch World series. (I'm cheating again!) These books inspired me so much when I was a kid and made me want to write sff and be just like Ms. Andre when I grew up. (Little did I know I would never grow up.)

♥ To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis. (Oops, appears I've done six books.) (Greedy.)

5. Tag 5 people and have them fill this out on their ljs:

frigg Have you?
maggiemotley If you're around a feel like it.
sollersuk You've already done a version of this. Want another?

I think everyone else has done this. If you haven't and feel the need, consider yourself tagged.