I was past the half way point in the first draft of my first book when I had a screwy conversation with an acquaintance. To be specific he was a friend of a friend who occasionally I found myself having the odd beer with. I'll call this cat Tim because I imagine his mother would call him Timmy well into adulthood.
Timmy had his masters in English. I knew this because he managed to work it into more than a few conversations. Unfortunately some cat in the mix mentioned that I was writing a book. Timmy caught wind and wanted in on the conversation. He had questions and wanted to data-dump his wisdom on the subject.
"How can you write a book?" he asked. "What's your background? You know I've got my—"
"Masters, I know," I said robbing him of the satisfaction of vocalizing it again. "Well, I'm two-thirds into my first draft and people I've shown snipets to have actually dug what they've read."
Timmy was perplexed; even amused that I'd be so bold.
"But you went to music school right? That's what I heard."
"That's right," I said.
"Well do you have any other degrees like at least journalism?"
"Nope, but self publishing is a thing nowadays. It's not so frowned upon like back in the day."
Timmy laid a academy award winning smirk on me and topped it with a slow shake of his head.
"I had profs that warned us against guys like you."
"Warned? what'd they say don't accept rides or candy from us?"
Although booky-book-smart my sarcasm threw Timmy for a loop as he was socially moronic.
"What? oh no, I'm being serious, those profs believe that a bunch of books flooding the market by ah, unproven writers will poison the market and bring down the quality of literature."
And you suckle at their teats of knowledge don't ya pal...
"You and the profs have nothing to worry about Timmy. If we just put out a bunch of crap then no one will read it and good books will be safe. Besides I've seen this in the music business. People got tired of waiting around for the big record labels to decide what fans listen to. Indie labels popped up and then cats started doing it for themselves and both good and bad music emerged. The same thing is happening in literature: people are growing beyond the big 5 New York publishers."
*keep in mind this was the early 2000's
Timmy didn't like it. He was a man with a masters, damn it! He paid his college dues and bought the prof doctrine hook, line and biased sinker. How dare the good natured brother (me) before him stump to challenge his beliefs.
"Well, I wish you luck, I suppose because writing a book is near impossible for most people and that's people with—"
"Your skill set?" I asked.
"Yeah, well not me so much but I wouldn't even attempt to write a book."
Thine level of egotistical horsepower not to mention unabashed condescension doth stagger me pal...
***
I'm so glad I didn't listen to Timmy's words all those years ago or any of the Timmy's I've met on the many fingerling paths of my life's journey. In fact, I didn't take his insulting condescension personally one iota. The reason being is guys like Timmy are pompous. On top of that he was a braggart in the way he always brought up his academic achievement. And who does that you might ask? The insecure, that's who.
The laid back cat with the masters in whatever is the cat you'd never know had the masters because they're so comfortable in their own skin and confidence that they have no need to cram their resume into every conversation. As an aside I wonder what Timmy does when he bumps into a cat with her PHD in English? Yikes, take cover Timmy!
Here's the moral babes n pals...
I could have let Timmy's words destroy my self esteem and killed the book then and there but I did not. (If anything it put fire in the belly to get the book done). You'll always meet people that will tell you that you can't. My advice is to just 'do'. Write, play the violin, apply for the promotion, go for a martial art black belt, enter the contest, whatever. Just remember you're doing it for you...certainly not for the frail and delicate Timmys of this world.
Timmy had his masters in English. I knew this because he managed to work it into more than a few conversations. Unfortunately some cat in the mix mentioned that I was writing a book. Timmy caught wind and wanted in on the conversation. He had questions and wanted to data-dump his wisdom on the subject.
"How can you write a book?" he asked. "What's your background? You know I've got my—"
"Masters, I know," I said robbing him of the satisfaction of vocalizing it again. "Well, I'm two-thirds into my first draft and people I've shown snipets to have actually dug what they've read."
Timmy was perplexed; even amused that I'd be so bold.
"But you went to music school right? That's what I heard."
"That's right," I said.
"Well do you have any other degrees like at least journalism?"
"Nope, but self publishing is a thing nowadays. It's not so frowned upon like back in the day."
Timmy laid a academy award winning smirk on me and topped it with a slow shake of his head.
"I had profs that warned us against guys like you."
"Warned? what'd they say don't accept rides or candy from us?"
Although booky-book-smart my sarcasm threw Timmy for a loop as he was socially moronic.
"What? oh no, I'm being serious, those profs believe that a bunch of books flooding the market by ah, unproven writers will poison the market and bring down the quality of literature."
And you suckle at their teats of knowledge don't ya pal...
"You and the profs have nothing to worry about Timmy. If we just put out a bunch of crap then no one will read it and good books will be safe. Besides I've seen this in the music business. People got tired of waiting around for the big record labels to decide what fans listen to. Indie labels popped up and then cats started doing it for themselves and both good and bad music emerged. The same thing is happening in literature: people are growing beyond the big 5 New York publishers."
*keep in mind this was the early 2000's
Timmy didn't like it. He was a man with a masters, damn it! He paid his college dues and bought the prof doctrine hook, line and biased sinker. How dare the good natured brother (me) before him stump to challenge his beliefs.
"Well, I wish you luck, I suppose because writing a book is near impossible for most people and that's people with—"
"Your skill set?" I asked.
"Yeah, well not me so much but I wouldn't even attempt to write a book."
Thine level of egotistical horsepower not to mention unabashed condescension doth stagger me pal...
***
I'm so glad I didn't listen to Timmy's words all those years ago or any of the Timmy's I've met on the many fingerling paths of my life's journey. In fact, I didn't take his insulting condescension personally one iota. The reason being is guys like Timmy are pompous. On top of that he was a braggart in the way he always brought up his academic achievement. And who does that you might ask? The insecure, that's who.
The laid back cat with the masters in whatever is the cat you'd never know had the masters because they're so comfortable in their own skin and confidence that they have no need to cram their resume into every conversation. As an aside I wonder what Timmy does when he bumps into a cat with her PHD in English? Yikes, take cover Timmy!
Here's the moral babes n pals...
I could have let Timmy's words destroy my self esteem and killed the book then and there but I did not. (If anything it put fire in the belly to get the book done). You'll always meet people that will tell you that you can't. My advice is to just 'do'. Write, play the violin, apply for the promotion, go for a martial art black belt, enter the contest, whatever. Just remember you're doing it for you...certainly not for the frail and delicate Timmys of this world.
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