Lost Cats & Orphans In The Storm
A nice thing happened the other day, so I took a screenshot, as nice things are rare.
This review of Thursday Affair popped up on Twitter:
Christina is herself a writer, so her kudos were especially welcome. I jumped on Twitter right away to thank her, and it is a good thing I did, as she has since left that service (and I get it, I really do).
That Christina liked Thursday Affair is neither here nor there. It doesn't make the story any better or worse than it is. My feelings about it remain the same. It's launched, it's out there, it's up to the world to decide what to do with it.
Submitting work in this business feels like shoving an orphan into a snowstorm. Go get a job! Find food! This afternoon I was rejected by an agent who requested the full Gumshoe Frankenstein manuscript. Right now Gumshoe is sitting at my kitchen table, shivering, icicle drooping from its nose, a blanket across its shoulders and its bare feet plunged into a washbin of scalding hot water. He can stay the night, but tomorrow -- back into the storm!
Rejection provides a kind of closure. You've been through the whole process of creation and submission. You can stop right now! (I won't). The work was read, even if it was rejected. That's something that isn't nothing.
Publication is the better kind of closure, but acknowledgement from a reader is better still. It's a thrill to be published, but once a story is in print I feel like I've lost my cat. It's like I left the door open and this little life that was previously my entire responsibility is now out there alone someplace. It's disorienting and worrisome. Rationally, you never expect to see your cat again, but part of you holds out hope. I recently moved back into a house we left a dozen years ago, but I still wonder if the cat we lost before we moved will turn up in the backyard. It's unlikely, but not impossible.
When a reader acknowledges your story, it's like someone found your cat in the next state over. The cat is still gone -- it belongs with someone else now -- but you know it's OK. A connection has been made. It didn't wander off into obvlivion, undiscovered and unremembered. It lived. I don't have to startle awake in the middle of the night and worry about the door I left open. That story found a home.
If you enjoy something you read, tell the author. (And post your reviews & etc. etc. -- all those things help drive the writer's business). But also tell the author directly. Don't expect a response. Don't expect anything except that you might make a writer happy that someone found their cat.
It's a nice thing, and nice things are rare.