Woe is me
Sorry, people, the posts have been thin--I'm on a deadline this week. Here's an article that's been in my bookmark folder, "Day Olds," for some time now, with the intriguing title: "My Book Deal Ruined My Life." I found myself nodding in agreement through much of the piece (which could be more accurately called "How Writing Ruined My Life" ), as I tend to think of writing as an uncomfortable, tedious, all-enveloping process. Kind of like having a toothache--the intensity is localized, but damn, does it ever take over your whole life when you're in the thick of it. After I finished reading, I found myself changing my mind. Now I'm in agreement with most of the posts in the comments section, which could be summarized as follows: "Please, cry me a fucking river." A book deal is a book deal--headaches, marriage ruination or no--and I doubt anyone would return theirs to Customer Service when the odds are one to 20,000 against.
Comments-
Pants said:
-
- June 29, 2007
Great article, Char!
I don't think enough is written about post-book deal misery -- or post-publication misery for that matter. As Galloway and I once observed, "You think getting published will change your life, and it's crushing to discover that even with a book out, you're still the same stupid schmuck you were before the book."
Seems you and I both stopped posting once Laisha had her baby -- I've heard of sympathetic pregnancy, but sympathetic new-born motherhood?!
Glad to see we're both back!
Post a Comment
<< Home