A little more on Sixto Rodriguez. I was fortunate enough to see him (front row, center) about five years ago with one of my oldest friends.  It was a fantastic experience. The positivity that emanated from him was contagious. Many of his songs are not exactly shiny/happy songs, but he delivered them with joy. He was a man, who truly loved his art and performing for his listeners.

I often think about that…love my art and sharing with readers.  That is what it’s all about.  The purpose = entertain myself and (hopefully) others.

— TD

I’ve seen a lot and heard a lot about artists getting discouraged over the last couple of weeks.

It reminded me of something I took away from the film Searching for Sugarman.

<Possible spoilers to follow>

This documentary on the surface tells of one South African man’s search for the truth about South African pop icon, Sixto Rodriguez, a late sixties American musician who released two albums that nobody listened to in the States.  In South Africa, though, somehow those albums arrived in country during apartheid, and Rodriguez became the “voice of a generation.”  Bigger than Elvis.  Part of the allure was the urban legend, that Sixto, so depressed over his lack of success, committed suicide on stage at his last concert.  (In this day and age, the legend would be de-bunked before it was told to the second person.) Of course, the narrator discovers the error of this legend, and locates Rodriguez living very humbly in his hometown, Detroit.  A South African tour is planned and Rodriguez performs to sell-out crowds of 30,000 +.

It is fascinating and unbelievable and the kind of story you would call Disney out on… and it’s evidently (mostly) true.  And Sixto Rodriguez is a musical genius. I still remember the first time I played Cold Fact for my brother, Dennis. He nearly fell off his chair, he was so blown away.  It was one of the few times where our musical tastes aligned.

Dennis’ favorite Rodriquez tune:

As fascinating and uplifting as the film is.  One thing is left unsaid.  For something like thirty years, there was no new Rodriguez music. Actually longer, because even though his obscurity has faded away, we are still left with only those two masterpieces. It may be that Rodriguez continued writing music and playing… though it’s pretty much portrayed in the film that none of his neighborhood friends knew he was a musician.  The point is one is left with the conclusion that so discouraged by his lack of “success” Rodriguez stopped creating.  And that is a tragedy…not just for Sixto Rodriguez, but for any artist.

I don’t think that was an intended take away from the film, but it’s a bittersweet theme I acknowledge more with each viewing.

Discouragement comes at us from all corners. In the news of late, we see a lot of bullying of YA authors by so-called Social Justice Warriors with the intent of convincing the authors to pull their work off the publishing schedule.  My friend, Carrie-Anne Brownian, recently blogged on this, and it’s worth a read.

There’s always a plethora of posts (and stories told to me) by authors depressed by critical feedback they’ve received (which by the way is essentially what the bully mentioned above is…overly critical feedback based on Advanced Reader Copies). Some of these posts are so discouraging, because it’s obvious the creators are doubting themselves to the point of nearly quitting…or at the very least giving up the current work in progress.  Good Lord, do not do this! (and that is the only thing in this post that should be considered advice)

Then there’s low sales or rejection letters. All I can say on that is the sure-fire way to fail is to keep the work in a drawer.  Yes low sales can be discouraging. The flip side is true, too.  When you see a bump in sales, it’s like free-basing on dopamine.  And you know what?  For the most part, I can’t figure out what causes spikes and valleys.  I do know not writing…not creating…not putting it out there, will kill sales.  But I also think you have to be okay with the lack of visibility, the fact that no one cares (like you), and the lean times, because in the end, writing is fun and tracking sales is not so much.

So what do I do?  For one, (I wrote on this in the Resistance post) I recognize that ultimately what keeps me from my work is internal.  Not external.  So, I tell myself that those who attempt to tear me down, generally, do so to try to bring me down to their level.  And I avoid these people and exercises. If some external force keeps me from my writing that’s on me, not them.  I recognize that sales are mostly out of my control, so I don’t set goals around sales.  My goals are things that are completely under my control.  And I write the best I can and put the work out to find my audience, and realize that I will get better through writing (practice).  If I keep doing that, hopefully, no one will look back and say what happened to the last 10/20/30 years…how come there is no work?

That he not busy bein’ born is busy dyin’ — Bob Dylan

–TD

Today.

I started out this morning with a full cycle. What does that mean?

I went all the way back to the opening of God’s Golden Shore. And read forward with my hands on the keyboard, adding depth as needed, correcting typos, but mostly getting myself deeply grounded with the story and characters again.  I’m happy to say I think I’ve got something here. Really wasn’t much I needed to add, and for someone who never returns to his work once it’s hit The End… I gotta say I enjoyed reading it.

I did completely dumpster fire the second to last scene I’d written. It was a sequel I’d written of Fuzzy contemplating his next step, but it read like Mr. Writer not grounded with his character and trying to figure out, “Where to next?”.  So I scrapped the entire scene, and moved forward.  Made some minor revisions/additions to the next scene that needed to be made due to losing the sequel.  Then I hit the white page and powered on for about 700 words.

Then the house stirred with activity, and I spent some time with family.

When I got back to my machine, I started a short story on a whim. And dropped another 800 words. I’m not sure if it’s a complete flash fiction piece or the beginning of a longer short.  But I had a lot of fun with it.  Totally, out of my comfort zone, as it’s genre-less/mainstream. No idea what I’ll do with.  Probably part of the fun.

Basically, it’s fun.  Always important to remember that.

Plus, I got to write this post. <grin>

–TD

Yes, despite the fact that I have a horrible record of finishing door-stop books, I am reading Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove.

And it’s everything I expected to be and more.  It is looooong. The pacing is questionable, partly because it is loooong. It’s also beautiful. Engaging. Fascinating. And deep on characterization, which also hurts the pacing a bit, but it’s worth it.

It’s made me think a little on my writing and characterization. Like most writers I want my characters to pop of the page and engage the reader…and I want the readers to care about them, and speak about them like they are real people.  And I’m working on this. I am. But…

As much as I love Lonesome Dove’s characters, I just don’t see me ever writing this way. Almost as if chapters are given to share character background sketches.  I’m enjoying it, but I just don’t think I’m that writer.

Then again… there maybe something to be learned here.

Another thing I’m enjoying is McMurtry’s somewhat contrarian take on cowboy stories. These aren’t really the heroic characters of cowboy legend. I’m enjoying it.

Only have 700 pages left. Ha!

Still plan on trying my hand at a Western for one of this year’s novels.

BTW, If you haven’t noticed, I’m a big music fan.  Larry’s son, James McMurtry, is one of the greatest songwriters working in America.  If you haven’t check him out, you should.  Start with “Ruby and Carlos.”

–TD