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Busting 10 Myths About Writing Fiction

You’ve thought about writing fiction. However, the moment you did, your inner critic bashed the notion and rolled out ten reasons you shouldn’t. Your inner critic was wrong. Today, I’ll bust those myths about writing fiction.

10. I don’t have time to write.

In one sense, your inner critic was right about that. You don’t have time to write. Neither do I. No writer does. We all make time for it. We deliberately carve out time out of our day for writing, no matter how brief it may be.

9. I could never write as well as [insert your favorite author’s name].

Since you’ve never tried, how would you know? Even if it’s true, who cares? You’re aiming at the wrong target. Adjust your aim to write as well as you can.

8. I’ve led a dull life. If I write what I know, it’ll be a dull book.

If you had suffered a troubled past, that would give you much to write (with authority) about. But you’ll have to admit—your past wasn’t all dull. You experienced fear, pain, triumph, loss, and love. Remember those emotions and write about them. More important than writing what you know is writing what you feel.

7. I don’t know all the English rules well enough.

This ain’t English class. Editors and publishers won’t quiz you on the difference between a reflexive pronoun and a ditransitive verb. They’d trade a hundred grammar experts and another hundred spelling bee champions for one great storyteller. You can learn the rules of English faster and easier than you can learn the craft of weaving a compelling tale.

6. I’ve heard you need a muse. I don’t have one.

Forget the muse. It’s a metaphor for creativity. I’ll give you two ways to increase your creativity, and each beats waiting around for an ancient Greek goddess to whisper in your ear. (1) Practice 20-solution brainstorming, where you write down 20 solutions to a problem without regard to workability or practicality. Don’t stop until you reach 20. (2) Channel your 5-year-old former self. You were creative then.

5. I don’t know the ‘author tricks.’

Of course you don’t. That’s because all the highest-paid authors belong to a secret society, and you haven’t been initiated. Wait, no. There’s no such secret society and no author tricks. What worked for others won’t work for you, and vice versa. You’ll have to figure out your own tricks, like everyone else. Many authors have written how-to-write books, but there’s no sure-fire formula in this biz.

4. Writers are introverts and I’m an extrovert.

You may be extroverted, but writers come in all personality types. If the thought of writing alone bothers you, collaborate with another writer. Or attend a party after each writing session, to get back in your comfort zone.

3. I’ll get stuck and suffer from writer’s block.

Maybe. Probably. It never lasts long. Whatever inner force compels you to write will insist you resume at some point. If you listen to that voice inside, it will help you get unstuck.

2. All the best stories have already been written.

Maybe that’s true. So what? More stories get published now than ever before, so that excuse doesn’t seem to be stopping other writers. One thing’s for sure—your best story hasn’t been written, and you’re the only one who can do it.

And the number one myth about writing is—

1. I won’t make any money from writing.

Hmm. What a coincidence. All the highest paid authors in history likely had that same thought at some point. It might end up being true in your case, but you can’t know that yet. Most writers keep their day job until their writing income grows to a point that they feel comfortable quitting that job. Maybe you’ll end up loving writing so much that you won’t care so much about the money.

There. I’ve busted the top ten myths about writing fiction. What’s your next excuse? Whatever it is will soon get demolished by the sledge hammer belonging to—

Poseidon’s Scribe

August 25, 2024Poseidon's ScribePermalink Leave a comment

Homo Scriptor

A potential Wikipedia entry:

Homo Scriptor

The writing human (Homo scriptor) is a subspecies of Homo sapiens, differing from H. sapiens only in its highly developed skill in writing. Though most humans write to some extent, Homo scriptor writes as an obsession, often to the exclusion of other activities.

Etymology

The genus Homo refers to human and the subspecies designation of scriptor (from Latin) refers to a person who writes.

Taxonomy and Phylogeny

Homo scriptor is a subspecies of Homo sapiens, member of the tribe Homanini, the family Hominidae, the order of primates, in the class Mammalia. H. scriptor has not yet split off from H. sapiens, and mating between the two can occur, but scientists believe sympatric speciation (the splitting apart into separate species) may be underway.

Description and Characteristics

In appearance, H. scriptor is indistinguishable from H. sapiens. Specimens of H. scriptor are present in the same genders and races as H. sapiens, in approximately the same proportions. Behavior is the only distinguishing indicator between the two.

Distribution and Habitat

Scientists estimate the world population of H. scriptor at around 400,000, perhaps 1 in every 20,000 humans. Homo scriptor has accompanied H. sapiens to every continent. They cluster in cities, as does H. sapiens. They occupy the same types of dwellings, though H. scriptor insists on one quiet space within the abode for solitude, writing, and the storage of books.

Behavior

Diet

H. scriptor eats the same foods as H. sapiens, but prefers to spend less time in obtaining, preparing, and consuming the food, to leave more time for writing.

Locomotion

H. scriptor walks in the same bipedal manner as H. sapiens, but less often, since writing is a sedentary activity.

Reproduction and Parenting

H. scriptor mates in the same manner as H. sapiens. However, for H. scriptor, the sexual act provides an additional benefit—research for a future book.

Any combination of H. sapiens and H. scriptor parents may result in either H. sapiens or H. scriptor offspring. Scientists have not yet identified the genetic markers for H. scriptor.

Social Structures

The main and subspecies share a mutualistic symbiotic relationship. H. sapiens seeks and pays for the product (books) of H. scriptor’s work. H. scriptor writes books for H. sapiens’ enjoyment and receives payment in return. With both symbionts achieving benefits, this relationship seems likely to continue. The two freely associate in complex social structures, though H. scriptor may seem aloof and isolated.

Communication

Since the advent of written language in the late 4^th millennium BCE, H. scriptor has exceeded H. sapiens in this activity, both in quality and quantity. On the other hand, H. sapiens surpasses H. scriptor in nearly all other human activities. The written language prowess of H. scriptor does not typically extend to other forms of communication. For example, H. scriptor may not speak any better than H. sapiens, and when the writer subspecies does speak, the topic is often about writing.

Cultural Significance

With the exception of non-written language arts, such as music, sculpture, and painting, Homo scriptor provides culture for Homo sapiens. All novels, short stories, plays, song lyrics, newspapers, motion picture scripts, television scripts, and Wikipedia entries were written by members of H. scriptor for the enjoyment of H. sapiens. Due to the symbiotic relationship, the writer subspecies rarely writes about itself, but more often about the main species.

Milieu, Ambiance, and Writing

Are milieu and ambiance important, perhaps even necessary, for the act of writing?

Milieu means surroundings, environment. Ambiance means the mood created by an environment. As a writer, you strive for a creative, productive mood, particularly one that results in a string of words soon to become a best-seller. Before sitting down to write, do you arrange a milieu conducive to achieving that ambiance? Let’s examine the aspects involved.

Sight

You don’t gaze at the screen or page all the time. Now and then you glance up. When you do, what visual surroundings do you prefer to see? Do you lean toward a natural view—vistas of the outside world including trees, flowers, mountains, lakes, etc.? Or are you the decorative indoor type—furnishing your writing space with paintings, knick-knacks, posters, figurines, or other delights for the eye? Perhaps visual clutter distracts you, and you seek a bare, spartan environment. Or do your visual surroundings matter at all?

Sound

Does noise, or its absence, harmonize with your writing? Some writers hate sound of any kind. Even the ticking of a clock or the hum of a fan disturbs them. Others prefer the quiet murmurs of nature—twittering birds and babbling creeks. Others put on recorded music, a background soundtrack of their writing passion. Perhaps, for them, certain songs match the rhythm of their creativity. Other writers tap into music more in tune with the specific mood or setting of their work-in-progress.

Smell

Scientists claim a strong link exists between odor and mood. Do you follow your nose to improved creativity or prolificness, or both? Do you achieve your optimum olfactory atmosphere via flowers, perfume, potpourri, or incense? Perhaps you turn your nose up at fragrances altogether, not caring one whiff about them.

Touch

Does the tactile sense reach out and poke your creative nerves? Does it help to stroke the fur of a pet or stuffed animal? Is the comfiness of your chair a factor? Maybe the feel of a pen in your hand rubs you the right way.

Taste

Bundled with smell, taste hits the spot for some writers. We’ve all heard accounts of authors who required alcohol to write, but I’m not sure I swallow that. In fact, I’d caution against forming a strong association between writing and tastes. Once that mental link gets established, you’ll strive to write better by eating or drinking more. Too much food or drink can harm your health.

Locale

For the above sensory factors, locale plays a role. Do you write outdoors, preferring a natural setting, disdaining the artificial? Or is the indoor milieu more your style, a place you can shape and adjust as you please, without the bother of insects?

Mental State

We’ve been assuming a process of ambiance—allowing the milieu to create a mood. Perhaps, however, you attain your optimum mental state in a more direct, way. Maybe you reach your creative mood through meditation. Or, more simply, you read and think about what you’ve written before to put yourself in the right frame of mind to continue on. In other words (with apologies to Decartes), you think, therefore you can write.

Experimentation

Maybe you haven’t a clue about the answers to any questions I’ve asked, but you’d like to find out. No problem. Do what a scientist would do—experiment. Try out different milieu and assess the resulting ambiance. Compare the way you write in these different environments. You’re not looking for surroundings that you find most pleasurable, but the one that results in your best prose. Readers, of course, may differ from your assessment and then you’ll face an interesting choice—go with what you prefer, or with what your audience wants.

As for me…

Throughout this post, I’ve proposed things for you to consider as you write. You might be interested in my choice of milieu and its ensuing ambiance. Why you’d be interested in that is a question only you can answer.

I favor the make-your-own-mental-state approach without regard to any milieu. I like to think I can write anywhere. However, if I should, one day, discover just the right environment to generate a best-seller, that would lock in that particular milieu and ambiance for—

Poseidon’s Scribe

March 3, 2024Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Shouldn’t Fiction Writers Get Paid More?

As the old saying goes, if you want to make a small fortune by writing fiction, start with a large fortune. Spoiler alert—the answer to this post’s title question is ‘yes.’

The Problem

Fiction writers should get paid more than most of them do. Consider the loneliness of writing, the struggle to gather the right words—out of many thousands—and to arrange them in just the right order, the trepidation of submitting a manuscript, the anxious anticipation of awaiting a response, the crushing despair of rejection.

Mere doctors and lawyers, accustomed to their lives of ease, could never stand the strain. Yet, by the most paradoxical injustice of our universe, members of these professions earn much more money than most fiction writers.

The Plea

As mentioned in an article in The Guardian, author Philip Pullman wrote an open letter to British publishers, imploring them to pay writers more. He made his case on the basis of fairness, stating that it’s in everyone’s interest to ensure authors can make a living.

Plan A

The uncaring and indifferent among you might ask where the money (these additional funds for deserving authors) should come from. The letter doesn’t cover that matter in detail because the answer is obvious. After all, publishers spend most of their time luxuriating in their vaults, counting and recounting their excess money. They use bills as scrap paper. They use gold coins to shim the legs of wobbly desks. They’re awash in cash, drowning in it.

The letter doesn’t ask publishers to part with all their money, just enough so starving writers can eat. It’s not too much to ask. Publishers will still retain plenty of scrap paper and desk-propping coins.

Plan B

On the off chance those skinflint publishers decline to cough up the necessary funding, the letter hints at another source. Pullman states it’s in ‘everyone’s interest’ to get writers paid appropriately.

Therefore, if publishers prove too stingy, we can turn to Plan B—take money from everyone and spread that sum among writers. However, Plan B may prove more difficult than it sounds. Going door to door with a tin cup strikes me as time-consuming. Also, a few citizens may hold differing opinions of fairness and disagree about what constitutes ‘everyone’s interest.’ Some might even refuse to contribute to the tin cup.

Let’s forget that method and select a far more efficient way of collecting money from ‘everyone’—taxation. We can simply persuade politicians (well known for their powers of logical reason and their sense of fairness) to raise sufficient taxes to pay writers what we’re worth. If they balk at a tax hike, they can feel free to add to the rather minuscule national debt, for payment later, by someone else.

What a grand project! Who’s with me?

The Consequences

Before we march on Washington, there’s one more thing. Failure in this endeavor is not an option. Mr. Pullman’s letter warns that if writers don’t get paid more, they will become an endangered species.

Writers, you may be aware, have almost split off from Homo sapiens to constitute a separate species—Homo scriptor. Failure to pay writers a living wage, Mr. Pullman believes, will cause that species’ population to decline.

What higher purpose does government serve, I ask you, than to protect all the species of the Earth? The endangerment of a beloved species, the possibility of its extinction, should prompt all non-writers to beg their governments to do something to ‘Save the Writers.‘ (Not a bad slogan. I should write that down.)

Rethinking the Problem

As I ponder this, a countervailing thought occurs. As the population of Homo scriptor dwindles, they will produce fewer new books. In a free market, when supply shrinks and demand stays steady or increases, the price goes up. As the price rises, more money should flow to the remaining writers, thus solving their income problem.

In fact, it’s possible this has already happened, and that the world has already reached an equilibrium, with the right number of writers all earning their fair share in a competitive market.

Well, isn’t that a buzz kill? I had my bags packed to march on D.C. Maybe, contrary to Mr. Pullman’s contention, things are as fair as they’re going to be for writers.

And if they’re not, the words of my father keep coming back. He used to ask me, “Who told you the world was fair?” That was a long time ago, before I became—

Poseidon’s Scribe

February 25, 2024Poseidon's ScribePermalink

7 Things I Wish I’d Known When I Started Writing

When you see books for sale online or in stores, do you ever fantasize about seeing your name on the cover as the author? Decades ago, before I began writing fiction, I pictured that and wondered, “how hard can it be?”

At that time, I had a great story idea and estimated I’d achieve bestseller status in a year or two. Many facts about writing remained unknown to me then, things I wish someone had told me. Today, I’ll tell you.

Make Characters Appealing. To Beginner Me, stories consisted of plot. The author just dropped characters in to have things happen to them. Not true. Readers yearn for engaging characters. Give them a protagonist they can love, or hate—just feel strongly about. Many authors come up with characters first, then figure out what happens. An exciting plot might provide a literary sugar rush, but all truly great books showcase memorable characters.

Start Short. These days, novels predominate over short stories. Readers tend to take novelists more seriously. For that reason, beginning writers often tackle a novel first. Beginner Me did that. His unpublished novel sits on my shelf. It served the purpose of getting Beginner Me accustomed to daily writing, and of learning things about the craft. I wish someone had suggested I start with short stories. Some time after I switched to them, I started getting published. You can crank short stories out faster. The submit-reject-submit cycle runs more rapidly. You can establish a readership and move on to novels later.

Accept Long Odds. A few—a very few—inexperienced writers get their first novel or short story accepted early on. Most—a vast majority—pile up many rejections before their first acceptance. You might be one of the few, but odds are, you won’t be.

Understand the Tiers. Those books you see on bestseller lists, on lists of what to read next season, on the top of Amazon’s ‘Featured’ lists, and on the prominent bookstore shelves, have one thing in common. They’re published by one of the ‘Big Five’ publishers based in New York. If your novel gets accepted by one of them, an army of workers will design your book’s cover, arrange for book reviews, publicize your book, put out press releases, and line up interviews for you. If your story or novel gets accepted anywhere else, that army dwindles to one person…you.

Market and Network. Beginner Me thought writers typed up prose while others took care of marketing details. For those few who land contracts with the Big Five, that’s true. The rest of us do our own marketing. You may not see yourself as the glad-handing, back-slapping used car salesman type, but you’re going to have to abandon your introvert comfort zone and learn those skills. It helps to network with other writers to watch and learn from them.

Be Realistic. Beginner Me had heard of writers getting paid advances of thousands of dollars. I’d jot down some words, submit the manuscript, sign a contract, and soon I’d be sailing my yacht to my private island, where I’d have a mansion. Yes, a few authors receive large advance payments, but most writers work a day job. Their writing hobby pays for lunch, once a week.

Get Help. At least Beginner Me knew this one and didn’t have to be told. Others have trod the writing path before you and are willing to share their knowledge. You may read How-to-Write books, take college writing courses, and go to writing conferences. Beginner Me did all of those. You may also attend writing workshops. I got the most help from critique groups. Find whichever type of help works best for you.

I meant this list to inspire you, not discourage you. You may see some items as depressing, but that’s not my intent. If the writing dream burns within you, if your story demands to be written, nothing I say will dissuade you. You’ll take the journey. Best to take it in an informed way, and not learn everything along the way, as did—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 17, 2023Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Will Your Footprints Get Washed Away?

My father died a few months ago. He lived a long and eventful life. A well-documented life.

During his retirement, he took time to write a series of vignettes about his past, his present, and general thoughts. By ‘a series,’ I mean he typed about 800 vignettes totaling more than 600,000 words.

Why did he do this? Probably best that I let his words explain that. He used the metaphor of leaving footprints in the sand. But his rationale has nothing to do with the Christian allegorical poem “Footprints” of disputed origin. On June 12, 2014, my father wrote:

“Here’s my basic view of the whole business. As we walk (run, or slouch) through life we leave footprints in the sand. Most of us leave our footprints … just above the low tide watermark and when we die, the sea comes in and obliterates them. No footprints, no markers, nothing to mark our having passed that way. All is gone except for some fading memories … and maybe a piece of lore or legend that lasts for a generation or so. This has been the bane of existence of the human race for thousands of generations. It probably will continue in that lively vein for another thousand generations. One could hope so in any event.

“What if we could encourage everyone to share a few of their stories before they pass behind the black curtain? If a few would walk, and leave their footprints in the sand, but above the high tide level. They could write what a long life of seeing and experiencing change and how THEY managed. What joys and loves they experienced, also the hardships and sadness’s they overcame. What insights would they share? It seems selfish to die and take all the good stories with you.”

I might not have used the word ‘selfish,’ but it is a shame so many people die without leaving a lasting record of their thoughts, recollections, and beliefs.

How much do you really know of your parents’ lives? Those of your grandparents? Further back? When they’re gone, you’ll have innumerable questions to ask them, but you’ll get no answer. In a sad irony of human experience, you’ll only get curious about them after it’s too late. If only they’d taken some time, while living, to write about their lives.

Perhaps it’s too late for your ancestors, but it’s not too late for you. Options include ready-made books such as Reflections From A Mother’s Heart or A Father’s Legacy or . Other similar versions abound. Such books contain prepared questions, and you write your answers.

Or you can do it the way my dad did. Simply write. Choose your own format and your own way to organize your thoughts. Or don’t organize. Just write what occurs to you, especially regarding aspects of your life you think others might become curious about. You’re trying to convey a sense of what your life has been like. It could be in the form of a journal or diary, such as you may buy in many stores, or regular emails that you retain on thumb drive or CD.

Even humdrum aspects of your life today might fascinate readers several generations from now. Your ancestors considered home ice delivery, churning butter, or dashes to the outhouse just part of life’s background. Most of them wouldn’t have imagined the lives we lead or the interest we’d have in their daily, banal routine.

Maybe you believe you’re not a writer. Perhaps your grammar and spelling both stink and you feel embarrassed about that, afraid to expose these flaws. I suggest you get over that. Those who read your words crave content, not flair. (Note: you could record your words in audio or video form.)

My dad’s vignettes contain numerous spelling and grammatical mistakes. Though college-educated, he only did enough writing to get by. I doubt he even self-edited his vignettes—just tapped on his keyboard, printed them up, and mailed them. Do I think any less of him for his typos and mistakes? No.

Imagine a different world, one where all your ancestors wrote accounts of their lives, going back to the dawn of human language. What a treasure trove! How many mistakes might humanity have avoided, so as not to repeat historical tragedies? How much more advanced might our species be?

We don’t live in that world. We have history books, yes, but they speak to us in generalities, not specifics. You know humanity’s history better than your family’s history.

You can start to create such a world for your own descendants. If you’re childless, write about your life anyway. Give those writings to friends or family members.

Bequeath something tangible and informative to those behind you. Leave more permanent footprints in the sand. Walk the beach of life, above the high tide level, along with—

Poseidon’s Scribe

August 13, 2023Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Writing Retreat? No! Writing Advance!

A writer’s retreat sounds good, doesn’t it? Get away from your day job, your house-mates, your friends, for a week, a weekend, or even just a day. Pure writing bliss.

Except it often isn’t. I’ve blogged about writing retreats here, and even earlier, here. If you approach them with realistic expectations, maintain discipline, and avoid distractions, you may accomplish many of your retreat goals.

You can divide writer’s retreats into two types—Group and Do-It-Yourself, and I’ve done both. Group retreats provide camaraderie with like-minded writers, and the opportunity for critiques and idea-sharing.

DIY retreats, described in two great posts—this one by Kristen Pope, and this one by Alicia de los Reyes, feature ‘alone time’ where it’s just you and your words. You may find a well-executed DIY retreat quite productive and rewarding.

Now for the counter-argument. In group retreats, when all is said and done, there’s often much more said than done. If you’re going to talk and not write, don’t call it a retreat. Call it a weekend with friends, a party, or a beer-bash.

DIY retreats avoid that problem, but may suffer other pitfalls. If you’re accustomed to writing in short bursts during the rare moments life allows, you may find it difficult to stay focused when you’ve set aside a whole day. If you’ve trained your brain to adjust to one-hour writing sessions, don’t be surprised when the gray matter gets distracted or sluggish after an hour.

Also, when you think about it, DIY retreats resemble your daily writing sessions, except they’re longer. Just a question of scale. Seems a little strange to give it a special name—retreat—when it’s so similar to your normal routine.

Consider professional authors, those who call writing their day job. They write all day, every day. Think the term ‘DIY retreat’ means anything to them? What you call a DIY retreat, they call a career.

Perhaps you should aim at that target. Rather than writing for a few minutes squeezed from life each day, all the while looking forward to the next retreat when you can really write, why not think of each day as a DIY retreat? Maximize those seized moments. Do everything you can to approximate the life of a serious, professional author. Maybe you can’t give up your day job or ignore life’s other requirements, but you can prioritize your time to permit more writing.

With that mindset, every day starts looking like a DIY retreat. Who started calling them ‘retreats,’ anyway? Yes, they involve backing away from the non-writing parts of life, but ‘retreat’ sounds so weak, like surrender. From a writing perspective, you’re advancing, not retreating. Let’s call them advances, or charges, or attacks.

Let’s go, writers! Grab your spear and shield—er, I mean pen and laptop, and advance toward glory. No retreat, no surrender. Charge forward! Follow—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 11, 2022Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Writer Me

In admiration of the brilliant Zillow commercial called “Susans,” here’s my take:

Okay, listen up. Need ideas for the next story to write. Thoughts? Writer’s Block Me?

“I got nothin.”

Shouldn’t ever start with you. Daydreaming Me?

“Huh? Did you say something?”

Sheesh. Perfectionist Me?

“Working on the last story. It’s still not quite right.”

Never will be. Impatient Me?

“Just scribble something and submit it already.”

Right. Procrastinating Me?

“Can do. I’ll get back to you in…oh…a week from—”

Never mind. Distracted Me?

“Wow! Have you guys seen this video?”

Great. In-the-Zone Me?

“Can’t talk now.”

Sorry. How about…Editing Me?

“Who wrote this dreck? First-draft Me?”

First-draft Me: “Hey, none of you is perfect, but I’m first.”

Settle down, you two. Overcritical Me?

“Forget the whole idea. It’s stupid.”

Why even invite you? Creative Me?

“Loaded with fresh story ideas. Want ‘em alphabetically or by topic?”

Wonderful, but I need someone to do the writing… Prolific Me?

“I can work with Creative Me and knock out a story tonight. How’s that?”

Perfect. That’s why you two are my favorite me’s.

Sensitive Me (tearing up): “But…but I thought …”

Don’t cry. I’ll need you for character development. Let’s get on this. All together:

“Me! Me! Me! Me! Me—“

Poseidon’s Scribe (Me)

July 10, 2022Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Oh, the Things You’ll Write!

It’s hard to think of a hobby, pastime, or activity more versatile, more location-independent, than writing. You can write almost anywhere. I’ve come up with a poem about that. Sincere apologies, Dr. Seuss:

You can write stuff on a train. You can write stuff on a plane.

You can write stuff in your house. Write beside your dozing spouse.

Write by soft electric light. Write quite late into the night.

You can write until the dawn. You can write out on the lawn.

You can write while in a park. You can write on old tree bark.

You can write both here and there. You can write most anywhere.

You can write while at a desk, from sublime to the grotesque.

Write first hither and then yon, and while sitting on the john

Write in your own living room, in a meeting while on Zoom.

Write while sitting in a chair wearing only underwear.

Write while riding in a car. Write when you get to the bar.

You can write both there and here. Write between big gulps of beer.

You can write while still in school, then while tanning at the pool.

You can write within your dorm. Write through a torrential storm.

You can write your prose so clear, hanging from a chandelier.

Have you written ‘till you cried, halfway up a mountainside?

You can write on any trip, even on a fine cruise ship.

You can write beneath the moon. Write aloft in a balloon.

You could write, or so I’ve heard, high up in a whirlybird.

You can by world unseen, while aboard a submarine.

You can write on your commute. Or hanging from a parachute.

You can write your very best while atop Mount Everest.

Write in far-off Kathmandu, or even while in Timbuktu.

You can write in every place. Even while in outer space.

Write while in a time machine. (Done before you start, I mean.)

You can write in any spot. That’s convenient, is it not?

You can write, (this ain’t no gibe), better than—

Poseidon’s Scribe

June 18, 2022Poseidon's ScribePermalink

The Writer’s Xanatos Gambit

If you write a book or short story and get it published, you win the game. In fact, no matter what happens, you can’t lose.

David Xanatos, from Disney’s “Gargoyles”

This situation is called the ‘Xanatos Gambit,’ named for David Xanatos, a fictional character (voiced by actor Jonathan Frakes) in the 1990’s Disney cartoon series, “Gargoyles.” It’s a logical construct where the plan’s creator benefits from every conceivable outcome, even from apparent failures. If I’m not mistaken, the idea of calling it the ‘Xanatos Gambit’ came, not from the show, but from the TV Tropes website.

Getting back to our hypothetical, you’ve written a book and it’s been published. Though it’s available for sale, it may not achieve commercial success, however you define that. Still, it’s almost a guarantee that at least one potential reader will come across the book’s cover, with its title and your name.

I’ll skip over the case where the reader buys, reads, and enjoys your book. That’s an obvious win for you.

However, the potential reader may ignore your book, attention flitting past to the next item of interest in the bookstore or the internet. Still, your name registers in the reader’s mind. Should that reader come across your name again, a memory is triggered, an association made. This might prod curiosity, and perhaps, eventually, the reader will buy your book or mention your name to another reader who will buy it. That’s a win for you.

Even if that reader ignores your book and never thinks of it again, your book is out there, available for sale. Other readers will see it. The odds are certain that at least one will buy your book, or another you’ve written. That’s a win.

If a reader buys your book, the reader may never read it. Still, it’s a sale and you earned some money. You win.

The reader may hate your book. Might write a damning review. Might tell friends and relatives never to buy anything written by you. Might popularize a “Hate [insert your name] Day,” a holiday dedicated to burning you in effigy or sticking pins in a voodoo doll replica of you. Even then, your book and your name achieve fame that rises above the common person. A win for sure.

There’s a tiny chance no one buys your book, ever. Still, though decades, centuries, and millennia will pass and you will die, you’ve left behind more than ashes in an urn or a stone in a cemetery. You’ve left behind something no storm can blow away, no flood can drown, no earthquake can swallow. You’re a published writer. Win.

Write that book, get it published, and win. Thanks to the Xanatos Gambit, you can’t lose, and neither can—

Poseidon’s Scribe