How to stay creative when there are SO many books!
Valuing our words in an oversaturated world
I’ve just finished a massive stint of editing When She Was Gone (hence I’m a day late publishing this!). To begin with, I worked on it for just a few hours a day, but by the end I was so absorbed in the story I forgot everything else, including showering and food. Heck, I even drove to the café to do some work, then walked home completely lost in my thoughts, and hours later my daughter pointed out the car wasn’t in the driveway! I inhaled chocolate while hoping family members would take pity on me with cups of tea – and kept praying I could get to the end of each day without my eyes rebelling, as stinging vision while squinting at the screen is not fun at all.
This is not how I usually work (thank goodness!), but every now and again – at least in my experience – a few days of this intense style of working needs to happen in order to stay on track. I used to think it was because I couldn’t organise my time properly. Nowadays I accept that it happens because I’m working so darn hard to ensure the book is as well-written and absorbing as possible, while sticking to my deadlines. I’m extra motivated at present because I need to move straight on to another story proposal, and life is threatening to distract me. I go to the UK in a month, my eldest daughter is fifteen this week, the house is a tip – etc. etc. In other words, there is plenty to do!
It takes a lot of drive and determination to finish a 100,000-word story, and then a whole lot more to pick up that novel and critically examine every word, line, paragraph and chapter, in order to decide whether it really is your best work or what you might do to improve it. Sometimes I consider all of this effort in the light of the current state of the world and book publishing, and wonder if it’s the right thing to devote myself to. I suspect I’m not the only one: in fact, just as I was writing this I saw an article in LitHub called ‘There Are Too Many Books; Or, Publishing Shouldn’t Be All About Quantity’, which raises some interesting points and backs up a lot of my thoughts.
Everywhere we look, there’s a surfeit of books and stories. The shelf space in bookstores is so precious and limited that most of our books disappear from them within a couple of months, destined not to be restocked because new books are always coming along. Amazon are letting self-published authors upload three new ebooks a day (say what now?), which is only possible if they are using AI – and even then it’s going some. On top of all this, author advances are shrinking, the gap between bestsellers and midlist authors is rising, and only a few people can hope to earn a decent living from their writing. With all this in mind, does it make any sense to encourage ourselves to write more?
In response, all I can tell you is why I’m still writing, and why I’m feeling so determined to work harder than ever before. I see all of these problems as a call to action for writers and thinkers: not to create more stories, but to write better and more meaningful stories, and to work harder to make genuine connections with readers. I know that sometimes a book (whether fiction or non-fiction) rises to the top of bestseller lists because of luck or celebrity or because it meets a zeitgeist need. However, I also see plenty of other books that have their moment or find longevity because the author put all their energy and dedication into making that book so bloody valuable that we cannot do anything but marvel at it and persuade others to read it too. I want to write these books. I know I won’t always succeed, but for me there is no greater challenge – and nothing is more rewarding than when one of my books touches the heart of a reader. I also want to support and champion these books when I find them, as well as the writers who are digging in and exploring new depths in their work.
The gatekeepers have changed in the world of contemporary publishing, giving more people the opportunity to write and sell books, bringing with it a greater equity and a whole new set of problems. However, rather than feeling defeated by the excess of stories in the world, perhaps the onus is on us to approach our creative work mindfully, discover what we most value, connect with other writers and readers we trust, and form networks that promote stories (and Substacks) we love. By applauding authenticity, originality, deep research, critical thinking and engrossing fiction, we can retain faith in our creative futures, strive to do our best work, and ensure that original, vital and compelling voices continue to be heard.
I LOVE THIS. Sharing with my writer groups.