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Today's heading is from what is probably my favorite line in The Mystic Marriage, when Jeanne has thrown a bunch of random ores and chemicals into a crucible, describing them in terms of all her conflicting and chaotic emotions, and presents it to Antuniet saying, "This is my heart. I don't know if it will come through the fire, but it's yours, if you will have it." (This may be paraphrased; I'm typing it from memory.)
One of the extremely difficult things for me about self-promotion (and I'm not trying to speak for anyone else) is that it's a chaotic mixture of conflicting relationships. There's one relationship where I have created a widget and I'm making people aware of the existence of that widget in case they might find it useful and be willing to spend money for it. There's one relationship where I've submitted the work of my brain and hands for evaluation, and I'm soliciting judges to tell me whether it's any good. There's one relationship where I have created a gift of love and I'm desperately hoping it won't be the equivalent of the ugly sweater that gets stuck in the back of the closet.
But for me, personally, there's also the relationship where my writing is the equivalent of putting on my fancy duds, spending an hour at the mirror doing my face, and going out to a club hoping someone will want to dance with me. Or the equivalent of a peacock's tail, spread out to attract the attention of a potential flock. This aspect applies to all my writing, not just the fiction. It's my way of enticing people to look twice, to pause a moment and consider entering into some sort of interaction with me. You may say, "Look at that peacock--he thinks he's all that. Showing off so proudly." But the peacock's just working what he was given to work with. A peacock isn't going to attract attention with his beautiful song. Or with his ability to build a nest. Or by performing aerial acrobatics. We've assigned him the attribute of pride and vanity, but that's not why he's spreading his tail. He's just working with what he has.
And for me? Words are what I have. I don't always know if they will come through the fire. But they're yours, if you will have them.
One of the extremely difficult things for me about self-promotion (and I'm not trying to speak for anyone else) is that it's a chaotic mixture of conflicting relationships. There's one relationship where I have created a widget and I'm making people aware of the existence of that widget in case they might find it useful and be willing to spend money for it. There's one relationship where I've submitted the work of my brain and hands for evaluation, and I'm soliciting judges to tell me whether it's any good. There's one relationship where I have created a gift of love and I'm desperately hoping it won't be the equivalent of the ugly sweater that gets stuck in the back of the closet.
But for me, personally, there's also the relationship where my writing is the equivalent of putting on my fancy duds, spending an hour at the mirror doing my face, and going out to a club hoping someone will want to dance with me. Or the equivalent of a peacock's tail, spread out to attract the attention of a potential flock. This aspect applies to all my writing, not just the fiction. It's my way of enticing people to look twice, to pause a moment and consider entering into some sort of interaction with me. You may say, "Look at that peacock--he thinks he's all that. Showing off so proudly." But the peacock's just working what he was given to work with. A peacock isn't going to attract attention with his beautiful song. Or with his ability to build a nest. Or by performing aerial acrobatics. We've assigned him the attribute of pride and vanity, but that's not why he's spreading his tail. He's just working with what he has.
And for me? Words are what I have. I don't always know if they will come through the fire. But they're yours, if you will have them.
