This isn't going to be a long blog today. I don't have the heart for it.* But it is one from the heart.
We don't know what is ahead for us. We don't know when our opportunity to tell stories will end. It might be illness, or time, inclination, or lack of confidence. It could be because we're no longer here.
When a writing friend is lost, I feel the loss in two ways - for the person, of course, but also for their worlds and stories. That part of them - that passion, that unique place - is lost, too. And I think of all the hours some of us put into stories that we never put out anywhere. We wait for an agent to take us on. Then we wait for a publisher. If we don't get one we go back and try again, and we shelve our book and our world and we tell ourselves that's fine, that we can always write another story, and another, and another, and then suddenly we can't.
A few years ago, I started a rather worthy thread on a forum, about these self publishers shoving out their shoddy, unedited books. I still stand by a lot of what I said - I do think the market is damaged by that and some kind of quality standard will be good. But I also feel if someone has told a story, and it matters to them, then they damn well should be able to publish it. Whether through a vanity publisher or some other way, that's entirely up to them. The stories have their place and their right to be told.
Anyhow I'm not going to promote this little blog. I'll leave it here, mostly for me, and go and write my main one for this week, on much more boring topics.
But, for now, if you do read it. Seize the day. Don't wait for life to get in the way of it for you. If you have a story, share it, be proud of it, enjoy it.
*As those who are members of the Space Opera Writers' group will know, a member of the community passed away this week, very suddenly and very young. It somehow makes writing blogs and what not seem a little shallow.
We don't know what is ahead for us. We don't know when our opportunity to tell stories will end. It might be illness, or time, inclination, or lack of confidence. It could be because we're no longer here.
When a writing friend is lost, I feel the loss in two ways - for the person, of course, but also for their worlds and stories. That part of them - that passion, that unique place - is lost, too. And I think of all the hours some of us put into stories that we never put out anywhere. We wait for an agent to take us on. Then we wait for a publisher. If we don't get one we go back and try again, and we shelve our book and our world and we tell ourselves that's fine, that we can always write another story, and another, and another, and then suddenly we can't.
A few years ago, I started a rather worthy thread on a forum, about these self publishers shoving out their shoddy, unedited books. I still stand by a lot of what I said - I do think the market is damaged by that and some kind of quality standard will be good. But I also feel if someone has told a story, and it matters to them, then they damn well should be able to publish it. Whether through a vanity publisher or some other way, that's entirely up to them. The stories have their place and their right to be told.
Anyhow I'm not going to promote this little blog. I'll leave it here, mostly for me, and go and write my main one for this week, on much more boring topics.
But, for now, if you do read it. Seize the day. Don't wait for life to get in the way of it for you. If you have a story, share it, be proud of it, enjoy it.
*As those who are members of the Space Opera Writers' group will know, a member of the community passed away this week, very suddenly and very young. It somehow makes writing blogs and what not seem a little shallow.
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