by Tara Sparling
Tara Sparling is an Irish blogger and humorist. I stumbled onto her award-winning blog, “Tara Sparling Writes: A Sideways Perspective on the Bonkers Business of Books” through a Tweet, and I’ve been an avid follower ever since. Her take on the writing life is uniquely quirky and hilarious… and oh, so Irish. Seriously, follow her blog–she’ll bring a little much-needed laughter into your work week. And today she has some laughs to help us through this frantic season.
Ruth and Johnny and I apologize for the broken links and other glitches that have happened during our epic blog move. Moving a blog of this size has turned out to be a much bigger drama than any of us imagined.
Things have been complicated in a major way by our hacker friends. The old freebie blog was under attack by hackers and spammers who kept changing our link codes to redirect traffic, and it seems some of them have followed us. They found a way into the site in spite of the new security. But Johnny Base is on the job and making sure they get out and stay out. He’s been doing a heroic effort to combat them.
Unfortunately the server has stepped in and is forcing me to moderate every single comment!
This seems silly, since comments have nothing to do with the problem and this is making me a slave to the computer (I don’t have a smartphone or tablet I can take when I travel.)
But I cannot give up my family Christmas for this blog. I leave tomorrow for the San Francisco Bay Area. So unfortunately your comment may not show up for some time. Even Tara is not allowed to comment without my okay. I am told we have no choice. So please accept my many, many apologies. I will moderate whenever I get near a computer, but that won’t be more than once a day or so….Anne
Why Being a Writer is Like Being Santa Claus
by Tara Sparling
1. Most people don’t believe in you. You’re not even sure if you believe in yourself.
Santa gets a lot of stick. Even the people who believe in him question his existence. Eight- and nine-year-old kids make it their business to go around playgrounds, discussing the logistical anomalies of his work.
And at peak production time, having left his underwear on the floor three days running, we can be sure that even Mrs Claus is questioning whether or not he is for real. It has to get a man down at times, even one as relentlessly jolly as good old Saint Nick.
Which brings us to writers, who don’t live in the real world at all. If you did, instead of writing, you would be packaging leveraged financial derivatives on Wall Street for enough money to make an accountant’s eyes water.
Upon informing your nearest and dearest of your literary ambitions, they smile sadly and say “You must follow your dream, darling.”
But inside, they’re crying, because they’ve just bid adieu to their own dream of a tropical retirement. They’ll be too exhausted to enjoy it anyway, because they’re going to have to spend the next twenty years coaxing you out of an endless cycle of self-loathing.
2. Your greatest work is done alone, or in remote locations.
Certain occupations (such as supernatural sleigh deliveries) are by their very nature solitary. I will concede that at the North Pole, Santa is surrounded by elves.
But how friendly with them is he, really? He is the boss, after all, and as any of us who have worked for a large organisation are aware, the boss is not your friend. Santa might create decent working conditions, and welcome his elves in the mornings with a hearty Ho-Ho-Ho, but he’s never the person Snuzzle Figglesticks confides in about secretly fancying Esmerelda in Doll Assembly.
No: Santa works alone. He spends 364.25 days a year in one of the earth’s most remote locations, not the sort of place where one can easily form a support group for Magical Toymakers.
Writers seek the same solitude. Nowadays, however, most don’t have the luxury of Thoreau. You’re forced instead to make remote locations out of whatever comes to hand (a back bedroom with the door locked; a garden shed with a two-bar heater and fingerless gloves; or even the kitchen table, having told all loved ones to cross your path on pain of death).
Here, you pretend that you are utterly alone, save for the makey-up people in your head. But there is no more solitary occupation than writing, unless you’re co-writing, which is extremely dangerous, and should never be undertaken by anyone with a discernible pulse (which is why it’s fine in Hollywood).
3. You work for free.
I know Santa is magical. I know the joy of children across the largely western world is payment enough. I know he doesn’t want money. That’s not the point, though. The point is, if he did want payment, he wouldn’t get it.
Nowadays, even mid-list authors are working for free, because the number currently retained by advances substantial enough to live on is estimated to be about 0.00357% of the writing population (I made that up, but I defy anyone to provide a better figure).
You might argue that the ultimate writing payoff comes later: that even salaried staff are paid in arrears. But the work I do in my office results in a dependable sum at the end of the month (unless, of course, I bankrupt my employer by accident), whereas a writer almost never knows if they’re going to make money with what they’re writing. And almost most writers don’t make any.
4. You have a long and illustrious cultural history, but people are always questioning your future.
Saint Nicholas was a Greco-Turkish bishop who was famous for centuries before you and I were even thought of. Yet no matter how many miracles he wrought, or how many legends are told about him, there is a constant drive to question his relevance in today’s society from Hollywood, organised religion, and plain old mean folks. If I were Saint Nick, I know what I’d be doing with my bishop’s staff.
Even Santa hasn’t been subjected to the same degree of abuse as the poor old writer, however: even though writers have been writing since someone first decided society needed a rule book, and someone else had the bright idea of trying to make the rules a bit more interesting.
Just a couple of centuries ago, widespread literacy created a boom in storytelling: but now, professional writers are an endangered species, and will soon be preserved in a zoo, where people can take a break from reading free books to come in and observe them in their natural habitat.
5. You’ve worked bloody hard for a very long time to get where you are. But as soon as people hear of you, they think you’re an overnight success.
When Christmas morning arrives (unless you’re from certain countries in Europe: just go with me here, for the sake of this article), people take approximately 14.7 seconds to marvel at all Santa achieved on Christmas Eve, delivering presents to billions of children in an impossibly short window. It’s magic! they cry, delighted with the end result.
They don’t think about the other 364 days Santa toiled and prepared and manufactured, inventoried and sorted. They don’t care.
Lots of writers explain their process online, detailing the writing of their books word-count by word-count, tweeting #amwriting like it’s #ambreathing, and discussing the many and varied tribulations of trying to market a book in order to become successful.
Nobody cares. People care only about the final number, and whether that’s the no.2 New York Times bestseller spot, or a $300,000 advance, that’s all readers will ever remember about how you got there.
6. You’re constantly asking people what they want, but no matter what they tell you, they always seem to prefer a surprise.
How was Santa supposed to know, having sat on eBay for thirty-six hours straight in order to secure the world’s last available 5-Minute Wonder Character Doll™, that after all that, you’d spend every waking minute between Christmas and the New Year playing with the $2 rubber egg he threw into your stocking at the last minute?
And just try talking strategy to the poverty-stricken writer who took a break from his life’s work (a 1,000-page opus on the futility of the self in a digital age), to dash off a comic novella about Hitler being taught how to make bagels by a Polish baker, only for it to win him sixteen literary prizes, several hundred thousand dollars, and a fellowship somewhere swanky.
7. You despair sometimes, that your work will ever be appreciated: but just when you feel exhausted and beaten, you find that someone has left you a carrot.
Well, let’s be honest about it. The carrot is for Rudolph, not Santa. But Santa’s a nice guy. He doesn’t mind. He just drinks the booze, scoffs the seasonal pastry, and gazes fondly at the image of himself reflected in a very contented, shiny nose.
A writer will grasp at any carrot in front of them, no matter how far they must reach. Even if your last review was a stinker; your book sales are tanking; your publisher is threatening to drop you, and you’re certain you’re developing arthritis in the finger you use to type the letter ‘e’ with – the mere sight of someone reading your book on social media, or a funny comment on your blog, is a sign from above that you’re meant to keep writing. Right?
8. Your customers can be fickle. One day, you’re all they can talk about; the next, you don’t exist.
Kids are awful. You spend your life trying to please them. They get all excited about your next visit, only to judge your performance without mercy, and then, BAM! You’re yesterday’s news.
Readers are awful. You spend your life trying to please them. They get all excited about your new book, only to judge your performance without mercy, and then, BAM! You’re yesterday’s review. In fact – who are you again?
9. You work as hard as you can, for as long as you can. But in order to really succeed, you’re always going to need just a little bit of magic.
Had Saint Nicholas merely delivered gifts and charity to one small village in Turkey in the fourth century, we wouldn’t be talking about him now, no matter how hard he toiled. It still took a few miracles to make him what he is today: a saintly harbinger of happiness, with enough supernatural energy to fuel several YA romances.
And so, alas, to writers. Nobody can deny that writers work hard (unless we’re talking about certain blockbuster authors, who eventually get to hide out behind an ampersand, eating caviar). Some writers are always telling people how hard they work. Some are even revered for it.
But when it comes to commercial success, there is always an element of the inexplicable. Why did readers love that book, and not this? Why did this book get all the free editorial publicity, and not that? The answer is simple. Luck. And luck is tough.
10. You get little or no thanks for the work you do. But you wouldn’t change it for the world.
Santa is Santa, because he is Santa. He couldn’t be anything else; he couldn’t do anything else. He was born to make other people happy, and has the mythological means to keep doing it. If he wanted thanks, he would be delivering iPhones to Millennials. (Actually, no. He probably wouldn’t get thanks for that, either.)
But you just try telling Santa to stop making kids happy, and see how much coal is rained down upon you.
Writers are the same. You write, because the mere idea that someone might like what comes out of your head is the most intense natural high a body can get, once you’re too old to be on Santa’s list anymore. And you love writing, too – or at least, like the old saying, you love having written – because nobody in their right mind would choose to live the writing life.
In fact, anyone who thinks they’re going to get rich from writing, or indeed find peace with it, should be installed immediately within the nearest straitjacket, behind glass, underneath a black-and-yellow sign saying “DANGER! SHOCK HAZARD”. Yet still you do it. Still you do it.
Tara Sparling writes fiction and screenplays. Originally from the west of Ireland, she now lives in Dublin. Her blog explores bestselling book statistics and trends, literary and mathematical humour, along with traditional and self-publishing, marketing tips, bizarre success stories, and spectacular failures. In 2014 she won Best Newcomer in the Irish Blog Awards, and her fiction has also been shortlisted in several national competitions. When she’s not writing, she has a very prim and proper day job all about numbers, but we don’t talk about that. Besides her blog, she can be found hiding (poorly) behind @TaraSparling on Twitter.
by Tara Sparling (@TaraSparling) December 20, 2015
What about you, scriveners? Are you feeling Santa-Clausy at this time of year? What other ways do you think writers are like Santa? Or not like Santa at all?
BOOK OF THE WEEK
…Mary J. Caffrey
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| FREE! |
Narrated by C.S. Perryess and Claire Vogel
OPPORTUNITY ALERTS
When anybody has a win or places work with a publisher or contest listed here, let us spread the word! Send Anne an email and we’ll give you kudos on the blog.
Platypus Press. A new UK small press is looking for literary novels and poetry collections. No agent required. Though your manuscript must be complete, the first three chapters of a novel will suffice when submitting. It must be previously unpublished, but work posted on a blog or personal website is acceptable. Accepts simultaneous submissions.
Southern Indiana Review. Pays $50 for each published piece plus 2 print copies. No submission fee. Looking for poetry, short prose and one-act plays. Old school: snail mail submissions only.
Sequestrum Reprint Awards. Finally a contest that actually wants previously published short stories and creative nonfiction! Entry fee $15. Prize is $200 and publication in the Fall-Winter issue of Sequestrum. The runner-up will receive $25 and publication. Finalists listed on the site. Deadline April 30th, 2016.
The Poisoned Pencil: New YA publisher open to submissions! The well-known mystery publisher The Poisoned Pen now has a YA imprint. They accept unagented manuscripts and offer an advance of $1000. Submit through their website submissions manager. Response time is 4-6 weeks.
Open call for the Independent Women Anthology: short stories (flash fiction included), poetry, essays, artwork, or any other woman and/or feminist-centered creative work. 10,000 word max. All genres but explicit erotica. $100 per short story, $50 for flash, poetry, and photography/artwork. All profits will be donated to the Pixel Project Charity to end Violence Against Women. Deadline January 31, 2016 with a goal of publication on International Women’s Day, March 8, 2016.
SCHLAFLY BEER MICRO-BREW MICRO-FICTION CONTEST $10-$20 ENTRY FEE. Fee includes a subscription to River Styx literary magazine or one issue depending on amount of entry fee paid. Submit up to three stories of 500 words or less each. All stories will be considered for publication. $1,500 first prize plus one case of micro-brewed Schlafly Beer. Deadline January 1, 2016.
Amazon’s Little A Poetry Contest. This is a brand new thing. NO FEE The contest will be judged by poets Cornelius Eady, Jericho Brown and Kimiko Hahn. The winner will receive $5,000 in prize money and a publishing contract featuring a $2,000 advance with Little A, Amazon Publishing’s literary imprint. Poets who have published no more than one book of poetry can submit their full-length collections for consideration to LittleAPoetry @ amazon.com. Deadline Dec 20th 2015
by Tara Sparling. December 20, 2015
Tara, thanks so much for guesting for us today! You are our very first guest here on the new blog. I’m testing to see if the comments are working again. We have had many bugs to squash and pirates to thwart. I love your humor! If anybody has trouble commenting, email your comment to me at annerallen dot allen at gmail dot com.
Thank you Anne for having me here in the first place! The delight is entirely mine. I am a bit nervous, though. If ever Santa were to read a blog, it would be yours. I don’t want to be on the naughty list. (again)
Tara and Anne, I think Santa would read BOTH your blogs! I sure am (and I’m not Santa, ha ha! Even though I’m a writer…) A very appropriate post relevant to the Time of Year…which reminds me, a Merry Christmas to you! But what about non-fiction writers? Who is their iconic model? The Easter Rabbit? Or the “Befana”, that old woman who visits Italian children in the night between January 5th and 6th, bringing them candies if they’ve been good during the past year, and nasty lumps of coal if they’ve been bad?
I’ve been thinking about the non-fiction writers, Claude, and I wonder if they don’t have a patron saint, rather than a mythological icon? More rooted in reality, you know! Mother Theresa’s just been declared- perhaps she’s up for grabs!
Merry Christmas to you, too Claude! I love La Befana. A lovely pagan leftover of winter’s “crone” version of the Great Goddess. I used to put up a Befana figure at Christmas, but everybody kept ragging me for not putting away my Halloween decorations. 🙂 Maybe the ghost of Hunter S. Thompson would make a non-fiction writers icon, if you don’t want to go the Mother Teresa route. Ha!
Wow, Mother Teresa and living in Calcutta, Hunter S.Thompson and engaging in Gonzo journalism, that would be true engagement – to the hilt! And then, let’s face it, Mother Teresa is practically a saint – too high for me – and Thompson committed suicide, I don’t want to go that route!! Surely there’s someone else? I prefer kinder, less demanding figures…How about Gulliver?
Ideal, Claude. One-star reviewers can be the Lilliputians!
Great post, & oh-so-true.
Thank you. Who knows? Perhaps in the spirit of solidarity, Santa will be extra generous to writers this year.
Comment – take two!
So true about the two dollar egg. Kids only need a few Dollar Store toys and a giant box to be happy.
I’ve heard that only three hundred writers in America make a living on their books. I think more people than that live in my subdivision.
And like Santa, we get to feast on venison now and then! Wait, we don’t? Oh…
Only three hundred writers, Alex? That shocked even me, and I thought I was cynical! Still, it does reinforce the magic theory. And it’s a good time of year for that!
Alex you are so right, a box can open zillions of ideas. If its a tall box, it can be a space ship as we -….. ahem I mean the kids can get inside and blast of into outer space, or if the box opens on its side , it can be a row boat or sled as we pretend to shoooosh down a hill as the wind bites at out noses on a cold wintery snow day. Where cats may like bags to play in kids like boxes….. what a day to spend a day.
Charming, witty, delightful and oh-so-on-target! Thank you, Tara.
Thank you, Ruth! I don’t think I’ve ever been associated with the word ‘charming’ before. My family thinks the very idea is hilarious. But I’ll let them out of the cupboard when they apologise.
Spot-on. Thanks for the laughs, Tara. You sleigh me. #sorrynotsorry
It’s great to see you over in these parts!
I love being over in these parts! And you should never apologise for a pun, Sonja. Punning is brain food for the soul in my book.
Thanks so much Tara. I needed that this week! And a Merry Christmas to you.
And my thanks to you too, Will! This was a great way to kick off my writerly holidays. My very best to you and yours for the festive season.
Hackers use scripts typically, so once you get in their queue, they keep coming. You may want to note the IP’s and check an IP lookup site. If they’re coming from a legitimate ISP, there is usually a listed email address for complaints. Then you can get their internet connection pulled.
2 things to suggest:
Goodbye Captcha – it’s behavioral rather than requiring Commenter input.
and Cloudflare – a distributed platform that amps up security. Thats how we ended the problems on one site I worked with. The basics are free.
We also found a serious problem with another plugin. It was a security hole letting problems in. Not one you’re likely using here but…
And don’t forget to check for extraneous Users. Hacking in and loading a user account gives inside access to WP.
Thanks for this info, David! I’ll pass it on to JB!
Is that also why you’ve locked down the site so people have to disable Javascript in their browser and view the source if they want to copy and paste?
(It’s counterproductive. I wouldn’t even have found the blog post to begin with if I hadn’t run across a link from another site that posted an excerpt, and been interested enough by the excerpt to come and read the whole thing. Making things harder for your readers isn’t the best way to be more widely read, especially when it’s so simple to bypass the lock.)
Chris–The server has put on the most intense security they have apparently and they are making me moderate every single comment, which makes discussion difficult. (And I have to be a slave to the computer.
I didn’t know they made it impossible to cut and paste. We had 100,000 hits a month on the old site and I didn’t ban anything, but that meant a guy came in and took all the content. He changed all the codes on my blog to drive all my traffic to the pirate site and mine had no content. It was heartbreaking.
Then when we moved, they got in again and changed all our codes again. I’m not a tech person, so JB has to deal with all this. I’m hoping he can get them to turn this down, because obviously, I’d like to get my readership back. And I’d also like to go visit my family for Christmas, which will not be possible if they don’t allow unmoderated comments. These hackers have been a nightmare for me for two months. I have a permanent headache and all my hair is falling out!
I checked my book writing expense spreadsheet the other day and the expenses so far exceeded the income I felt like the federal government!
It’s such a shame, Janet, that unlike the federal government, you can’t just print the money to cover it. There’s a paper pun-filled joke in there somewhere, but even I fail to see the humour in writing finances sometimes!
Hilarious as usual, Tara. Thanks for the holiday giggle.
You’re more than welcome, Sue, thanks for reading. Here’s to a successful writing year for all gigglers in 2016!
Love this Anne, for guesting Tara’s blog, and Tara for another enjoyable read 🙂
Thank you, Ann! All the Ann/Annes are my favourite today 😉
Oh Lovely! Tara, where have you been all my life? (Anne will be nodding along at my comment there. I’m a certified certifiable humour writer too.) So true, all of it, although I’m pretty sure Santa gets more glamour and cookies than me and thou…although I am approaching him in mid-girth, as I scarf down gingersnaps while typing with one hand. The one with the arthritis. Oh well. Waving from Canada!
I was here, waiting for you, Melodie. Thank goodness you’re here, I have a weakness for gingersnaps. Lovely talking to you, I read your post on atmosphere and loved it. Waving back from Ireland – although it might be hard to tell in the windy dark!
Sparling rocks. Even if she will never make any real money.
You are in real trouble, Bofin. That’s one dinner, 6 mince pies and 35% of the royalties on your first book you owe me now. How’s that for real money?!
What a fun and timely post. It’s always good for a writer to know other writers go through the same thing. Merry Christmas.
And a very merry Christmas to you too, Gayle, I hope Santa is good to you. Our deadlines might be a little less rigid than his, but we’re only human.
Just adored this Santa/Writer piece, so funny and dark and TRUE!!!!! Thanks for sharing it here on this very lovely blog.
Thank you Susan – as I was reading your comment I was listening to the rain lashing off the windows in the pitch black morning outside – I wonder where Ireland gets its dark sense of humour from!
Tara, I think you’re definitely on to something. The similarities of writing to Santa Clausery are remarkable. But I think there’s an eleventh point you make have missed: If you reach a James Paterson-style level of success, the elves do all the work for you.
It’s funny you say that, Lawrence – in top ten lists, the missing eleventh is usually my most favourite point, and this is no exception. You just made my Christmas (not least by commenting on my post. I’ll be dining out on this all over the festive season. I will get a horrible reputation for name-dropping and become the social bore of the county, but I won’t care in the slightest)
As a kid, I never seemed to get what I asked for. Despite well-written, even amusing, letters to Santa. The one and ONLY year I wanted a doll, I didn’t get one because my Irish mother (County Kerry and poor and I doubt she ever got a doll either!) thought me too old for dolls. HA! (The urge to have one never went away, but yes, yes that is another story for another time…and forum. LOL). So yeah, as a writer I ask for one thing with each book (ie buy it, ok?), and like Christmas past…well, you know how it ends. Still, I try to keep the joyous spirit despite hearing things like only 300 writers make a living. What was that definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. I am, therefore I am insane. Today I had a choice to clean the living room or write. Is it alarming that I nearly chose cleaning? Great blog, and one that gave me much mirth, not a typical, but not an unknown, character trait of mine. So, you rock Sparling!
Good grief. Cleaning the living room is never a viable alternative to anything, T.T. – you chose the only sane option. I blame your Kerry mother. I come from the next county up, and it took years of counselling to get out of the endless cycle of dusting. I still get the shakes if someone spills something down their chin.
These were so cute, thank you. I made tweets out of them and linked back to your blog. Merry Christmas.
Thank you Annalise! Hope you get a nice reaction from the Twitterverse.
What a fun Xmas reminder. It lifted my cheeks and brought out my crows feet. I’ve always loved playing Santa. First time I woke up to leave presents for my older siblings, I was six years old. Didn’t realize I emulated Santa in my writing, but true enough. Thanks for the chuckles as I sit down to edits.
Perhaps Santa needs to bring you something for the crow’s feet, Redd… Or on the other hand, they could lend gravitas to your author publicity shots, so you’re welcome!
A good one Tara, I must obviously take a break from my WWII Far East POW odyssey to dash off the erotic life of hedgehogs novella.
You really must, Hilary. I’m always talking about the erotic life of hedgehogs zeitgeist and at a complete loss as to why people aren’t listening to me.
Oh my goodness that Hitler novella sounds amazing. You should write it.
I should really, Darla. I fear however that as it was an exceedingly short novella, I might have lost out on that opportunity by posting the use online before it was written. I’m moving on to Kim Jong Il and Krispy Kremes.
This is so true…and funny…I’m saving it for future reference.
Have a great holiday!!
Thank you, Ryan. I hope, like Santa, it brings a little bit of comfort during dark winter days. Unless, of course, you’re in the southern hemisphere, in which case I hope it brings a nice cool drink. Warm wishes to you and yours this festive season!
Hello and MERRY CHRISTMAS, Anne. I can’t believe how crazy things have been that I have not even seen this amazing and terrific new site you have created.!!! Congrats to you and Ruth for a wonderful job.
Loved this post. The humor is so spot on and so fitting for this blog. Thanks, Tara. If we can’t laugh we might perish or fall into a dark hole 🙂 Hope you all have a grand and Merry day … and with tongue in cheek I dare the PC police and say it again Merry Christmas 🙂
Florence–Merry Christmas! I’m glad you like the site. Johnny Base did all the work on it. He did a great job, didn’t he?. I’m commenting from my nephew’s computer, so I’m not sure you’ll be able to see it’s me–Anne
Thank you Florence! It is indeed a Merry Christmas, and all the merrier for being on Anne’s lovely new site. Smiles all round!
Morag, see to it that some mince pies and a glass of milk are left for Tara on the eve of her next visit to our wordpress reader. No, not those, the Tesco ones’ll do.
I’d like to thank the Department of Speculation most heartily for its festive generosity, even though I’m not entirely sure how exactly I’m going to get my very real hands on those metaphorical mince pies. Tesco or no. But I suppose it’s the thought that counts, eh?
11. In typical festive fashion, all promise of snacks have a plate-life of approximately three minutes after which the server promptly scoffs them, careful to scatter a few crumbs for authenticity.
Great post Tara! You are hilarious as always. I’m guessing there wasn’t much sherry left for Santa, so you had to leave him the poiteen. .. which might explain a few things…
It might explain more than that, Ali! Poor Santa. He didn’t stand a chance. Still, at least he’s unlikely to remember much…!