Putting the FU back in FUN

This morning, I spent an inordinate amount of time posting about a series of business workshops I developed for Can*Con, a science-fiction, fantasy, and horror literary con of which I am the Chair. So, it’s near and dear to my heart, right? And I posted it in the event’s private Facebook group, where I know most people and consider a great many of them friends (those I don’t, I probably just don’t know yet).

Yet, I hesitated. A LOT.

And why? I worked hard on this. I’m proud of this! The presenters are AMAZING. The series will be FUN! I’m looking forward to it.

And then it struck me. In a world where shots are fired so thoughtlessly and quickly on social media, I was worried. For the same reason I overthink (so much overthinking) about every “promo” post (aka talking about my books) I post on my page, or every newsletter I send out to my subscribers list. The same reason I hesitate to “sell” my books.

Because I didn’t want to be seen as someone who’s worried about business more than craft. (I’m not, to be clear. I worry about both equally, because damn it I want people to read my books, and I want them to love them, too. And I can worry about all the things! That’s totally healthy!)

I’ve been called a sell-out before, when I spoke of having erotica pen names. Because I wrote them quick and dirty (HA!). Like, if I wasn’t spending hours thinking about every sentence, I wasn’t craft intensive. Because I was focused on money for this pen name (okay, these pen names), I was a sell-out.

That got stuck in my brain gears, grinding some processes to a halt, and now I am here to state solemnly on my blog: fuck it then, I’m a sell-out. But I’ll be the kind of sell-out who can stand behind my words. My work. My journey.

Look, it’s been ten years since I left 9-to-5 to make a living from creative pursuits. And it hasn’t been one of those “holy shit, it’s all glory and glitter” journeys, either. It’s a mess. A wholesome, beautiful mess, and it’s my mess. I’m proud of it. I’ve written lots of great books, met amazing people, created multiple pen names for FUN, and I’m still standing.

I’m. Still. Standing.

If you’ve been in this business for any length of time, you know that not everyone makes it past a year, much less fifteen. It’s grueling, and not everyone is on your side.

But if you keep climbing that steep hill, and keep trying to find your way in the dense, dark forest (the landscape sucks and the maps lie), then you’re a hero in my books.

Fuck the haters. You worked hard. Talk about your book. Your story. Your workshop series! Tell us about how you researched pink pollen, or how you designed your character’s life-providing hair. Be proud of what you created. Have fun with it, too, because otherwise the landscape will swallow you up. Well, it will me. I subsist on having fun. (I’m told I have a very generous definition of fun, to be clear.)

People vanish from the writing world all the time, and I don’t think it’s because a monster gets them. Well, no, wait, a monster does get them, and one with sharp teeth. But it gets them because they don’t sell well and they get distraught that no one is reading the books they poured so much love into, so they say fuck it and they get out.

You know what, power to you. Gotta leave those relationships that don’t work, you know? But if you still love this, still want this, it might help to remember to put fun back into this at-times (often) soul sucking business.

Ten years ago, I quit because I realized I was bad at 9-to-5. It was killing me. I’ve struggled since, but I’ve had fun, too. So much struggling. So much fun. I’ve written more books than I can count (most not under my name), had bestsellers, five-figure deals, written for big corps like Hallmark Channel and McDonald’s, did a storytelling tour of Canada, met so many amazing people, and I’m still here.

Still standing.

Still writing.

Still struggling.

Still succeeding.

Just because you’re not a total success, it doesn’t mean that you’re a failure. Chances are you’re both at once, and always will be. Stuff will be great. Stuff will suck.

And even (especially?) in the arts, money is important. Business is important. Everyone else tries to devalue art, and it’s easy to fall prey to the same cruel illusion. Your work is worth it. You are worth it. Talk about the thing. Promote it. Let people see your creative process. Let them love you and your books (you are lovable, even if you think you’re very odd. I’m very odd, too.)  

Promotion can be fun. It doesn’t have to be grueling. You can swear on your blog all you want.

THEY CAN’T FUCKING STOP YOU!

I can worry equally about craft as I can about business. I’m not a sell-out. Or, maybe I am. I don’t care. I’m working hard at craft. Working hard at business. At marketing. At survival.

And it’s time to stop hesitating talking about the business side, or promoting cool stuff, because of past accusations. I want people to read your books. I want people to read my books, too. I want money. Even writers gotta eat. All of us! Our art is worth it. Our craft is valued. Our voice matters.

So, have fun. Shout about the stuff you love. If it helps, don’t call them “promo” posts. Call them “sharing the love” posts.

Treat business like I hope you do your writing.

Have fun with it. Have fun your way. Screw the haters.

It’s time to put the FU back in FUN.