The two realities of writing.

Funny, when it comes to creative success, there seems to be two realities, which contradict each other, and yet both seem to exist.

The first reality is the "fixed" game reality: movies, music, books success comes with the "who you know" reality. It helps to be a nepo baby, or to have gone to school (especially Ivy League schools) with people who already have a leg up. 

This certainly seems especially true with top tier actors, writers, and musicians.

The other reality is that talented people who are persistent, outgoing, and lucky can still make it in the business. But the key word there, I think, is "lucky." I suspect there are a huge number of talented people who never get the chance, especially to develop. 

I always suspected for myself that I needed a leg up on the creative process to a higher level from someone who believed in my talent. I was close, but not quite there. But I'm a quick leaner, who takes lessons to heart, so I would have been able to profit by such mentorship. But why me, particularly? There's the rub.  (By the way, I do think I reached a "higher" level in craft, but it came after much practice.)

I think I made the right choice to concentrate on the bookstore. Not that there was a whole lot of choice. One was giving me a living (barely), the other was not. When I came back to writing I had the freedom of writing what I wanted, when I wanted, as quick as I wanted. I could choose my own editor, my own cover art.

But I knew that very likely such an approach wouldn't be successful. Here's the thing: I calculated that even if I did do all those things you're supposed to do to promote yourself that the odds would be only slightly better and still really only mattered if the luck factor came into play.

I suppose you could say the more you put yourself out there, the more luck might come into play.  But it's by fractions. 

There is, perhaps, a third reality, the wild card of being so supremely talented that you simply can't be ignored. Is this a reality at all? I'm still not sure. My guess is, more likely not a reality. More likely luck (timing is part of luck as far as I'm concerned) and who you know are still the main factors. 

So why even try? Well, I feel like I've accomplished something, that I pursued my bliss, that I had a few successes that were satisfying on their own. 

Why am I not still writing? Well, I've proven I can write as many books as I have time, but it would just be one more book after another with diminishing returns. And the second factor is that it does become work, that having to turn the raw creativity into something ready for others to read actually ruins the enjoyment of that original draft. And if my payment is going to come in the form of that enjoyment, then I'm actually working against myself. 

I miss the moments when a character comes alive, a scene comes together, a surprise word choice, a sudden wisdom you didn't know you possessed: the creative part, eh. But it can otherwise be a bit of a slog, so you have to weigh both sides.  

Kind of cancels out.