Publication Month

And a writer's worth.

My latest book, BAD INFLUENCE, will be published next Thursday.

Fuck!

I am not ready.

I’ve been putting some things off because I don’t want to do them. I don’t want to film myself saying stuff on camera. I don’t want to put myself out there and try to sell what I have done. I just want to write a book, have it be published, and then be allowed to write another one.

Of course, this is not the way things are, and, if you read my last piece on here, you’ll know that even the great writers of the lost generation were marketing themselves in their own ways.

Now, a lot of the advice I have given on this platform has been showing you what I do and telling you not to do it. It’s all done with a tongue pressed firmly into the cheek and a dash of self-deprecation, but there is still a lot of truth in it. (Maybe this piece is still a little like that.)

This morning, I did something that I don’t usually do. I published my latest podcast episode and then I made a video to publicise it on Instagram. I don’t know what made me do it, but I did, and guess what? I got a load of new listeners.

Oh, God. I’ve been getting it wrong haven’t I?

It works.

It’s part of the process.

Or maybe it was a blip… Coincidence…

There’s a motivational speaker and social media advocate who I follow that suggests posting content five or six times a day. That feels like a lot of work. But, in the interest of science, I uploaded another video with a different clip of the show this afternoon.

And the same thing happened.

So, now, I am completely re-evaluating my life as a writer.

I put everything into my writing because that’s what it’s all about, right? I’m a writer, I’m not a film-maker, people want to read my books not look at videos of me making dinner or lifting weights or even talking about my writing. But what I’ve come to realise is that I am fully in on the book-writing section of the job but I’m half-arsing the rest of it. And it’s taken me way too long to realise this. (Although, I think I did know, I just didn’t want it to be true.)

A lot of it comes down to the perception of worth. Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of self-belief in what I do, I think I’m good. (I know that we are not supposed to say this but it’s odd to me that someone would pursue a career in something they don’t believe they are any good at.) But I think worth is a different thing.

You can spend a year writing and editing and perfecting a novel and it’s either not taken up or you are given some money for it. Sometimes, (let’s face it, it’s often) that money is not a lot compared to the amount of work you have put in. And I think that can make a writer start to believe that their work is not worth a lot.

You end up on a Books-of-the-Year list or get an award shortlist or something, and that perks you up but it doesn’t suddenly mean you can do your weekly food shopping at Wholefoods or M&S.

I’m not saying that I consciously felt like my work had little worth but I started my podcast a year ago and I didn’t tell anyone about it. I just hoped that maybe it would catch on and people would talk about it and share it around. I don’t think I felt worthy enough to call myself a podcaster; it was just an outlet for me.

The thing is, I really enjoy it but it is also a lot of work to research and write and edit and, if the publishing industry has taught me anything, it’s that I should put a lot of work into something and expect very little for doing that.

So I kept at it, kept doing the work, and continued to get very little back, just as I have been conditioned to do.

Until now.

I think I felt the same way about Substack. Like I was embarrassed to share thoughts and opinions and advice, especially if people were going to have a paid subscription. But then I read something that Jennie Godfrey wrote on here about making more of her posts available only to her paid subscribers because she had to put a value on her time and her work.

Something clicked when I read that, and that is why I put myself out there with the podcast.

And now I am going to rebrand the podcast channel.

And I’m going to change the way I run my Substack.

And I’m going to film all the promotional videos I’ve been putting off for weeks.

Because being a writer isn’t just about sitting in a shed in the woods and crapping literary gold, you would have to be incredibly lucky to be able to do that, there’s a heap of other crap that goes with it, and I think it’s time I embraced that.

I’m not saying I want to start a YouTube channel where I document every moment of my life, I’m just saying that I am going to work harder at the things I don’t like doing.

It’s like going to the gym and working your chest and biceps because it makes you look good in a tight t-shirt, and you are good at those exercises, but neglecting your legs because it’s more painful. You have to embrace the squat rack. You can’t go all in on the part you like and half-arse the rest.

I love this quote by the music producer Rick Rubin~

Living life as an artist is a practice. You are either engaging in the practice or you’re not. It makes no sense to say you’re not good at it. It’s like saying, ‘I’m not good at being a monk’. You are either living as a monk or you’re not. We tend to think of the artist’s work as the output. The real work of the artist is a way of being in the world.

I considered myself a writer because I’ve had a bunch of books published, but it is more than the output, it’s living fully as a writer (or a podcaster or a personal trainer or a shepherd or whatever one chooses). Any profession evolves and we have to evolve with it or get left behind.

So, there will be a little shuffling around as I sort out all the things I have neglected in the past and smooth around the edges of The Carver-Verse.

But I’ll still be here, working hard on the things I’m not sure I’m that good at while also working on the one thing I think I am good at. (My new book, The Borrowed Path. Which is currently worthless as I do not have a deal for it. Yet.)

I also read an interesting piece on here by Rebecca Makkai on how book prizes don’t work the way you think they do. There was some advice in there for book prize nominees that said it is prudent to write a speech even if you are absolutely certain you won’t win because you don’t want to get shocked and then fumble through your words on a stage.

I’m attending such a ceremony on 18th - also publication day - and I feel fairly sure I know who will win. However, after reading that article, I am going to write a speech, anyway, and I will post what I would have said, if I had won, the day after the ceremony. (For paid subscribers.) Could be fun…

I’m going to run an offer for the rest of publication month that gives 50% off an annual paid subscription. I’ve never done anything like this before and I probably won’t again because it feels like another way of not valuing what I do, but I figured it might be a nice thing as I transition into a new way of ‘being’.

Also, go and check out my podcast. It started a little shaky but I’m much better at it now. Oh, and pre-order BAD INFLUENCE because it’s my most fun book yet. If you feel you can, please support Fourbears Books, where I will be holding my launch party on 23rd, or Bert’s Books, where I will be signing a stack of copies on 13th. These are my two favourite independent bookshops and I like to support them as much as they support me.

I should probably go and learn a dance that I can film for TikTok or something. Is that what living the life of a writer is now? Does anybody really know what the fuck they are doing?

Remember when being a writer meant getting drunk on Absinthe and hiring a fishing boat in Cuba?

I reckon I would’ve been great at that.