A World of Difference
Or perhaps that should read, “A Word of Difference”.
There is, as I discover after many years of trial and error and trial, a world of difference between someone who says, “You write well, but…” and another who says, “I love this, really, I love what you’ve done here. But it needs work”.
Finding the soul who says enthusiastically, “I see where you are going, had you thought of ….?” becomes a positive, partnership-type of hope compared with, say, someone who opines, “I liked this well enough…” – beware the lukewarm response – “…but I think your characters are…and I don’t like… and this could be different…” Which reader will, I suspect, never be happy however hard we may work to make changes (unless, of course, the final outcome bears no resemblance to our first offering).
I would love to write a Catherine Cookson-style blockbuster.
I would if I could; I would dearly love to fit in with others’ expectations and hopes. But I’ve tried that for years – honestly, I have, and broken my heart a few times in the process – and it simply does not work. If I were somehow to procure a facsimile of what is considered sellable, it would lack heart, soul and meaning and sooner or later, that would become obvious and kill the story.
Besides, my characters have other ideas.
Do agents and publishers only aspire for their authors’ books to be bought by Sainsburys and Tesco? I get it, that this is one market where bestsellers are made, but has this now become the sum total of bestseller ambition?
I fully recognise that these is no point whatever in trying to appeal to everyone. In fact, that is impossible, and the sooner I accept it, the better. And therefore, there is no point worrying about a person’s – or even a whole bunch of persons’ – points of view. To have the help of those who will never fully understand is no help; enthusiasm must be the benchmark for all success. In other words, do I like my work enough that it still enthuses me? And can I reasonably hope that someone else will share that enthusiasm? Because unless we can hold faith with that ambition, everything else is a sell-out.
Thanks for listening.
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October 31, 2019
I can do many things
Fran Macilvey cerebral palsy, Fran's School of Hard Knocks, Happiness Matters 2 Comments
I can do many things.
I can do many things. I can drive a car, I can prepare meals – I’m what might be called a good plain cook – I can sing. Glancing through the remains of what might have once passed as a body of work, it dawns on me that I also produce visual art, some of which has, surprisingly, stood the test of time, despite the absence of any formal recognition or schooling. The test being, after twenty or thirty years, do I still like this? And yes, to a surprising number of things I draw, that is still my answer.
Which does demonstrate to my cynical self that indeed I can do many things and reasonably well. Unexpectedly, I procure from some part of my depths, strange, colourful works that hit the mark, often enough to give the whole idea of me as a visual artist more than passing credibility.
But where does this talent come from? With no concrete idea it existed, I’ve certainly never talked about it. Reminding me yet again, that in getting through life and discovering how I can achieve things, I travel an unusual path. I do not, and cannot, seemingly, arrive at outcomes along the same tried and tested routes that others take. If I can accept that I needn’t match more general expectations to get to desired outcomes along the usual paths, life seems to work out better for me.
I have been characterised as not listening to advice, being contrary and defensive. But perhaps a part of my reaction has come from knowing that what everyone else was telling me was “so obvious”, I knew would not work for me. Did I recognise, even as a child, that I would have to do things my own way? Possibly. Kids are not stupid.
I can’t keep up. And my sanity makes a welcome return when I remember that life is not one long battle to match “How things are done around here” with the way I do things. Things seem to work better when I keep faith and keep going, in my own way.
Thanks for listening.
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