The Pace is Changing - Maybe

The Pace is Changing – Maybe – by Debra H. Goldstein

Recently, I received a birthday card which pictured three people sitting at a fancy dinner party. Above the picture, the caption read: “When we were young, we’d sneak out of our house to go to parties…” Below the picture were the words: “Now we sneak out of parties to go home.” Admitting to myself the truth of this card, I chuckled.

As I write this, I’m still recovering from back surgery that precluded my attendance at many of the conferences I usually attend. I told myself not going was okay because I didn’t have a new book to promote; and, although several of my short stories are slated for publication, they won’t be out until after the current conferences. I consoled myself that I could follow the events respecting the conferences I missed through the posts and pictures friends put on Facebook.

Although I enjoyed the posts, seeing everyone’s fun secondhand was bittersweet. Then, I came upon a post that made me think for a moment. It was put up by a writer I know well and very much admire. The point it made was that the author played hooky from many of the panels and honoree interviews to duck out to explore the host city, have long lunches and dinners with friends, or simply chill with a glass of wine in her room. She noted she still had a great time, but she didn’t feel the need to spend every moment at the high pitch of energy she had done when she was a new author. 

Her comments made me think about some of the behaviors of more established writers that I’d observed at conferences. Many would not be seen for long stretches during the day, or I’d observe them returning late from what had obviously been a dinner with their contemporaries. My past observations and her post made me think about how the birthday card’s message applied to authors. Was it a matter of age? Tied to their having built a following, albeit maybe not a giant one? Being comfortable in one’s own skin? 

It made me contemplate my friends and the goals we’ve recently been sharing with each other. What is it we now want from our careers? 

As I’ve posed the question to people, their joking response is often “money and a New York Times bestseller,” but after laughing, many indicate they are happy where their careers are. They have books they can hold in their hands, they sign autographs, and while they want to write the next breakout novel, most are happy to follow the same trajectory they already are on. A few are beginning to question whether they want to continue writing. They’ve enjoyed the party atmosphere of becoming an author but after assessing the up and down elements of the publishing business, they wonder if sneaking out and going home might sound good. They fear that their writing is predictable, their ideas stale or non-existent, and their desire to be tied to their computers minimal.

Are these passing thoughts or the natural evolution of a writing career? As writers, what do you think? As readers, can you see this dilemma somewhat reflected as you peruse new books and stories by authors you admire?