We have discussed the financial struggle faced by the majority of published writers in a recent post, but the subject came back to the fore after a short piece in the April edition of Writers Magazine.
The piece covers the story of Catherine O’Flynn, and author who had her book, What Was Lost, rejected by fourteen literary agents, yet won the increasingly prominent Costa First Novel Award. In response, the Independent’s Literary Editor, Boyd Tonkin, offered his input on the expectations of new authors.
“Many illusions about the wealth of up-and-coming authors arise because the media publish wildly exaggerated estimates of the sums involved. Next time you read about a £1m advance, try dividing that by ten – at least.”
He goes on to say that the hope of giving up the day job is less than realistic:
Plenty of acclaimed writers of fiction never give up their previous occupation, or else acquire a new on (in teaching or journalism, for example)”
That last statement troubles me as it is far too black and white to offer a complete picture, and one should note the use of ‘acclaimed writers’, which, as O’Flynn’s experience with literary agents demonstrates, can be entirely disconnected with successful or popular writers.
Many writers may not give up the day job more out of choice than financial necessity. They may simply not be the kinds of authors who have a whole stream of novels queuing to get out, or, and with the level of effort required to produce a novel, not wish to be a novelist full-time. Being a successful, or acclaimed writer, surely does not exclude the possibility of doing it part-time.
It has been said many times: read to improve your writing. There’s some sound theory behind that statement, but also some pitfalls for the unwary.
Over at Vigorous Writing, Jesse Hines talks about this very subject and how a strict reading plan can and will help you improve your prose. Though not necessarily through direct techniques, the general increased awareness of other writers’ works can indeed help you to give polish to your own work. It’s hard work, that’s for sure, particularly if you are not accustomed to reading, and as a writer one is always pulled in the direction of wanting to write more rather than become involved in someone else’s writing.
My personal experience with reading has, in the past, actually been quite detrimental to my writing. While searching for the answer to becoming a fully productive writer, I read a great deal across a wide range of genre and author. Unfortunately this merely confused my own writing. Each book I liked, I unconsciously tried to emulate, often discarding past work to re-write in the new style. Each new author delivered new ideas, and so they were also injected into existing work. The result was, as you can guess, a complete lack of any finished piece.
These days, where I am embroiled in the adventures of a group of Edwardian characters, I limit my reading to a greater extent. Truthfully this is as much about simply not having the time to fit in the challenging day-job, writing the stories, and read, as it is avoiding the past pitfalls from the past. Choice of books is determined by what I am writing about, and most of my reading has shifted to research of the period.
Reading is certainly important to understand what other writers are doing and how they tackle certain challenges in plot and characterisation, but the danger of losing one’s own voice must be carefully managed. I can truly say, looking back, I would have had several books written (published is another matter altogether) is I had more carefully managed my reading habits in the past.
The movie Atonement is raking in the awards and nominations right now in this current, dampened, award season - and looks like it will manage a strong finish in the imminent BAFTAs. In an interview over at The New Republic, McEwan talks about how it feels to have one’s work adapted for the big screen.
In particular, I thought I would pick out this segment:
I’m sure I’d be possessive if I allowed myself to get involved in the writing of the script. There’s a lot to be said for not doing that. I did it once with The Innocent and John Schlesinger, and it was a fairly difficult process because everyone–the director, the designers, actors, everyone–had their own ideas and came piling in. And you are suddenly knocked off your perch as the God in this machine.
As someone who has written in both mediums (I will offer the disclaimer “not professionally” here), I can appreciate the challenges presented by writing the script. Story structure is critical, and the need to be as concise as possible in depicting the necessary elements, while omitting what is not essential - all the while maintaining the interest of the audience. This often leads to fundamental changes from the original written work, often by re-ordering the sequence of events as they are depicted, absorbing lines of dialogue into different scenes, and even switching important dialogue to a different characters. This is almost impossible to achieve as the author of the original piece, I suspect due to their understandable emotional attachment to their work. Conversely, the thought of someone else getting their hands on ‘your baby’ can be equally daunting.
McEwan goes on to discuss some of his past work, his beliefs, and talk about the kinds of subjects he likes to read about as well as write. It is invariably an insight to hear what an author reads. Find the TNR interview here.
