I’m journaling every day because of the pandemic. I want to leave a legacy for future historians. Even if my notebooks are never cataloged, researched, or cited, I feel that I am contributing. Perhaps it is time to evaluate all of our work not by what it brings us but by what it contributes to a shared experience.
My novels are not breaking sales records, nor is Asimov’s Science Fiction calling me for my latest short story. It’s discouraging at times, especially now that my critique partners are no longer meeting face-to-face. I used to have that deadline to keep me at the computer. Now the little voice that tells me no one will care if I finish my next story is harder to suppress.
What if we reframe the measure of success? True, I’m not making a big splash in the literary world, but I have readers. If you are in a critique group, you do as well. That editor you hired? She’s your reader. Beta readers? Well, reader is in the title, isn’t it?
Financial success in any venture requires a huge investment in marketing. That’s a different part of the job than getting the product ready. Stop judging the worth of your stories by the money they’ve brought in, or the contests they’ve won. Treat them as the gifts they are – your gift to your community.
No one can tell your story quite like you will, so write it. Stay at the keyboard until it says everything you want. Share it with your critique group, your beta readers, your editing partners, or anyone else who will read it. Now you are a part of their experience, and that is a worthy legacy.