Am I the Asshole For Wanting to Cheat on My “Literary” Novel?

My dear friends, welcome back! It’s time for another installment of Am I the Literary Asshole?, the comedy advice column that definitely called shotgun first so you have to take the backseat. Those are the rules! I’m your host, Kristen Arnett, and I’m typing this while listening to a massive afternoon thunderstorm. Summer in Florida continues! Hot damn, it’s really raining out there. Hope I closed my car windows!

It’s cozy in here, despite all the thunder and lightning outside, so why not join me for a hot toddy? One (or two of three) couldn’t hurt! Whiskey business, am I right? I know I always say this, but we’ve got some great questions lined up for us today.

Let’s get right down to it, shall we?

1) Dear Dad,
I’ve been working on the same section of a novel project for nearly three years now—specifically the same 6,000 words of it. To paraphrase Nathan Lane in The Birdcage, the manuscript has gone from 20k to 14k to 22k to 15k and so on another three or four times. It feels increasingly like a drag every time I go back to it, like I don’t recognize the story or even the person who started the story. And in my head, there’s another project that feels more exciting, more freeing, more… I don’t know, like it reflects who I am as a writer and what I want to do, in a way that the older project doesn’t. 

But I feel scared of pausing, I feel scared of chasing the high of the fun part. I feel scared that writing the thing I “want” to write right now (fantasy) is less respectable than what I’ve been working on (literary fiction—well, okay magical realism literary fiction) and so I feel like I can’t switch. I’m worried about never finishing anything at all. I get so wrapped up in my own head that I end up not being able to write at all.

Dad: Am I my own literary asshole? (And, since I suspect I might be, help?) 

Buddy, you’ve come to the right place!

What I want to do right now—instead of labeling you an asshole, which you ARE NOT—is reassure you that it’s completely normal to have conflicting feelings about your work. At any given point in time, we experience a rollercoaster of emotions when it comes to our works-in-progress. Some days you’re up; others you’re way, way down. If you’ve been sitting with this particular draft for nearly three years, it’s natural that you’re running into anxiety and stress when you contemplate how to best proceed.

Now, I think you could choose to go a number of ways here. I’m going to give you some options, but at the end of the day, you are the captain of your own writing career (I am merely the deckhand in charge of the ship’s bar; ahoy) so ultimately it’s YOU who will determine the best choice for your own particular circumstances.

The first thing I’m gonna say (with love): take a goddamn break. Put the struggling project aside and work on the new thing that sounds fun. This is not a job with a boss breathing down your neck; no one is paying you for it. You’re the one giving yourself grief. The timeline and the stakes are all self-imposed. If you feel like trying something else on for size, why the hell not pursue a cool thing? I am all for getting your creative juices running, because generally speaking, it usually helps us get back on track with the thing that’s been stuck. Don’t say “can’t” here. Of course you can!

You could also try approaching the stuck project from a different direction. Possibly you need to scrap your current process. If you’re doing things intensely on the line level, zoom out and try writing bigger picture. If you’re a person who outlines, throw the map out the window and go off-roading. See where that takes you. Do you write alone? Workshop with a partner. Build a moodboard for characters and theme. Make a thematic playlist. Start from the end and work backwards. Let your brain live a little. Writing can be a grind, sure, but we need to find joyful ways to stick with it.

That brings me to my last idea: what about this project is so important to you, aside from the fact you think it has literary merit? Sit down and jot some of these things down. What got you excited in the first place? What are the themes and dreams and ideas that made you say, “yes, this is the book for me!” Get yourself in a place where you get off the page and do some research on these topics. Give yourself the chance to fall in love all over again.

As long as you’re trying, you’re writing. Ease up on yourself. Let yourself enjoy.

The rain isn’t letting up and neither are these questions! Let’s have another drink and check out our next quandary:

2) I REALLY want to write novellas and would love to get them traditionally published someday. I think something that’s not too short or not too long would be perfect for the stories I want to tell. I don’t want to pad them to hit an arbitrary word count. Is it presumptuous of me to put quality over quantity, when so much of what I see is an emphasis on market and cost of production?

I love that you are excited about writing novellas because I am someone who genuinely loves to read them!

One of the best things that we can learn/know about ourselves as creatives is a developed understanding of how we best work inside of our respective mediums. You know that novellas are an ideal shape/form for the work that you want to make. That’s amazing! It’s never presumptuous to put “quality over quantity,” as you’ve stated here—especially when we’re talking about art! Quality is what we’re aiming for, right? Fleshing out work simply to hit a word count isn’t doing anyone any favors.

I will say that many traditional publishers aren’t as keen on the novella as, say, your classic novel. There are some publishers that are looking at shaking up forms, but if we’re talking Big Pub, they’re a little more set in their ways when it comes to what they like to publish. Although many readers are enjoying a slimmer read these days! There are also plenty of collections that include novellas, so there are quite a few routes to consider.

However! I feel we’re putting the cart a little before the horse with this one, because you opened with saying that you really “want” to write novellas, which leads me to believe that you’re still in the early phases of putting them together. Focusing on crafting them means that it’s possible all this logistical stuff (the publishing, the selling, the marketing) will easily work itself out once you’ve actually sat down and done the work of getting these stories on the page.

Write the thing you want to make! And then see where you feel like heading from there. Excited for you, my friend!

The rain is letting up a bit, but we still have time for one more drink and our final question of the day. Let’s take a peek:

3) How do I know if a book has legs? I talk to other writers I know and they tell me they can’t stop thinking about their current WIPs. It’s all they want to think/dream/talk/read about! I don’t feel like that about my writing, ever. Does that mean I just haven’t found the right project yet? Am I the asshole if I just don’t… actually care that much?

This writer has a lot in common with our first question-asker of the day, so the initial answer here will be mildly similar. To know if a project has “legs” can be a tricky endeavor. Sometimes if we’re working on something and we’re bored with it, that can mean we’re not working on the right thing. It can also mean that we haven’t given it a fair chance! We could be approaching it from the wrong angle (started from the wrong place, maybe, or given it the incorrect form). There are lots of reasons why a project might not speak to us immediately (or ever). It all comes down to your personal experience.

Instead, I’d like to focus on the second question you pose. You wonder if you’re an asshole if you just don’t care about anything you’re making. Friend, I think that this is a much larger difficulty than we have room for here—and I’d need lots more information from you to be able to answer it effectively! The world is pretty shitty right now. That can make it hard to want to make anything. We’re also pulled in 3,718,290 different directions on a daily basis, including our jobs, community service efforts, romantic partners, friends, bills, kids, chores, pets, etc. Those daily lists are enough to take the wind out of any creative sails.

But something I’d like you to consider, briefly, is not putting yourself in comparison with your other writer friends. Just because you don’t talk about your work the same way these other people do doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It probably just means that you’re doing it differently. Have these friends judged you for the ways you do (or don’t) talk about your art? Have they made you feel like you’re approaching it incorrectly? If so, I think that might be the bigger problem here.

Make the things you want to make! And don’t let anyone tell you how you should feel when you’re making it! Your life and your art and your feelings are all your own to experience. Enjoy them any way YOU see fit.

That’s all the time we have for today! Join me next time when we chat and drink and I spike my own punch!

Remember, it’s always anonymous—so send me your questions!!!

Mysteriously,
Dad

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Are you worried you’re the literary asshole? Ask Kristen via email at AskKristen@lithub.com, or anonymously here.