Caveat Author
by Janet Berliner
This will be a very short blog, not because I’m lazy but because it’s something I feel strongly about, something that needs to be said in a short and pointed manner.
We write and talk a lot about success–the yearning for it, the fear of it and the acceptance of it when it comes. That’s all good stuff and necessary for our wellbeing. What we don’t discuss is the attitude change that happens all-too-frequently in our friends and colleagues.
Here’s my theory, based on my own experience and that of many others:
There are people who are what I call ‘Funeral Followers’. They get warm and fuzzy coming to the aid of their sick, struggling friends. They love to commiserate. But here’s what happens when those friends have something good to share. The Funeral Followers disappear. Or they come up with things they would change in a book already out. Or they write reviews–most often for nothing–where they bury the lead and start with something negative like: “This book arguably has the worst cover blurb I’ve ever read.”
Sure, they ultimately praise the author as a genius, but they know full well that it’s the first sentence that counts, in a Google search for example. It’s that whole first impression thing. Think of it this way. I’m dressed by a designer for a black tie affair. I go to the bathroom before making my grand entrance and the unthinkable happens: Trailing toilet paper adheres to the back of my outfit.
On the way into the grand ballroom, I meet a lot of people I know. Does one tell me about it? Noooo. Of course not.
I remember once, waiting at Michael’s in New York to have breakfast with Larry Ashmead. A well-dressed woman sat down across me. She had neglected to take the dry cleaning tag off her designer jacket. The moment I noticed, I told her how great she looked and told her about the tag. She was grateful almost to the point of tears.
Michael’s being the place where publishing makes many of its deals, I could have thought, ‘Hey, don’t say a word. She may be after the same book deal you want.’
Sad to say, many if not most people do take the latter route.
At this point, if you’re still with me, you’re probably getting your panties in a knot and asking why I’d be saying this to you when you would never do such things.
I’m writing this as a warning, thus the title.
Here’s one personal example. If I’d been warned, I’d have shed fewer tears and felt less betrayed.
I started a Writers Workshop, which lasted for six years. The writers were my peers and my friends, or so I believed. My first breakthrough novel launched the day before our monthly meeting, which I thought would be something of a celebration. Only it wasn’t. One person of the nine who attended brought a cake. He was a guest who had not yet written anything. As for the rest, they ignored the entire event.
For me, that was the end of the workshop and the end of any kind of real friendship with all but one of the members . . . the one who couldn’t make it that Sunday.
Does this matter in the scheme of the Universe? Of course not. Did it matter to me? Absolutely.
And when your first book comes out, or you first see your name in a New York Times Book Review ad or even on “the List”, remember my warning. Not everyone you call friend will be happy for you.
Contrasts amplify perceptive effects. I can only imagine what a downer it must have been when you walked into that meeting full of well-earned elation only to have the reservoir containing it ruptured by the pernicious nonresponse of the others in attendance. It’s helpful to get festering things like that out; and it’s helpful to your readers to be made aware of, and thus somewhat prepared for, such experiences.
Experiences like this are yet another reason it would be useful to categorize different kinds of friendship, each having its own descriptive warning label.
Thank you for sharing.
RCJ
Janet,
Boy, are you right! I just had a horror/erotic novel published by a small independent press and some of my friends who I’d have thought would be happy for me after struggling for two decades, haven’t even congratulated me. These are long-time friends that I even sent a free copy of the book to. Thanks to your posting, I now have an idea about what’s going on. It’s disheartening to say the least.
With friends like those… Ugg. I belong to several somewhat overlapping groups of writers. One woman who belongs to a couple of them with me never says anything nice about the successes–great or small–the rest of us experience. While some fo the nicer folks in our groups continue to congratulate her when she preens, my small-minded self has given up doing so.
But of course, there are plenty of the other ones around, the ones for whom your success is a joy. It’s easier, of course, if they’re not in your field!
Very well said, Janet … and all the more incisive for its brevity.
It’s tough to think of anything more misguided and self-poisoning than this kind of behavior. The success of a friend or peer should be one of the most encouraging things in the world: It’s real-world proof that what you want to achieve is achievable.
But, for some, petty jealousy comes so much easier, and can even be preferable. They don’t have to try harder, and they’ll never lack for company.
At any rate, I’m reminded of the early ’90s Morrissey song, “We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful”:
“We hate it when our friends become successful
We hate it when our friends become successful
Oh, look at those clothes
Now look at that face, it’s so old
And such a video !
Well, it’s really laughable
Ha, ha, ha …
“We hate it when our friends become successful
And if they’re Northern, that makes it even worse
And if we can destroy them
You bet your life we will
Destroy them
If we can hurt them
Well, we may as well …
It’s really laughable
Ha, ha, ha …
“You see, it should’ve been me
It could’ve been me
Everybody knows
Everybody says so…”
There’s a bit more, but you get the idea.
It’s a very self-absorbed world we create in … I’ve caught myself many, many times hearing that a friend sold something and going right past “congratulations” to “are they looking for anything else? Can you drop my name?”
And that is sad. Over the past few years I’ve tried to get a better control on that “me-centric” attitude and to pay attention to who I’m talking to, and about what, instead of letting it all swing in a big arc back to myself.
I’m genuinely happy for my friends who are successful…but the ability to show that happiness is a learned skill, as is focusing on that person, and that person’s achievement.
I’ve grown used to the notion that I write books in the forest where no one can read — and for the most part no one notices.
We crave feedback and acknowledgment. Is it a flaw? Not sure…but for me it’s not completely avoidable. I don’t write for myself alone. I write to communicate, and when I see no indication this has happened, it affects changes in my attitude, happy-face, etc.
That said, I try to realize that everyone who creates feels that way – or the majority of them — and I try to react in a positive, reinforcing manner.
DNW
Thank you for the comments, RJ, Laura, Dave.
The Morrissey song is perfect, Brian. Wayne, you reminded me of something I meant to mention: Giving our books to friends and relatives, only to
receive silence in return, as if it were their
due to be thus gifted. Seems people tend to
value things more when they have to open up
their wallets and pay for them. They also clearly
don’t understand that we have to pay for them in real dollars. Nowadays, I try to say, “I bought this for you.” Tacky? Maybe. But it makes me feel better. –Janet
Friends who are only there to support your failures are, of course, no friends at all, though many don’t even seem to understand what they’re doing.
Or, to put it another way, “How many actors does it take to change a light bulb?” The answer, of course, is ten – one to do it and the other nine to talk about how they could have done it if they’d gotten the same breaks.
Fortunately, such “friends” tends to fall away after revealing their true colors, hopefully leaving the ones who are genuinely happy for your success, and whose success you can genuinely be happy in as well. Light bulbs, however, are an entirely different matter…
Our mutual friend Rick gave a quote; whose it is, I know not.
“Success is paid for in the coin of envy.”
Or something like that.
And this seems true whether it is someone who succeeds in publishing, or succeeds in losing a phenomenal amount of weight. In either case, you leave bitter “friends” behind.
Success is threatening in a lot of ways. Creates an image of you whether you like it or not. Have to say: it doesn’t have to be. I look for the exceptions. Fortunately, I got into a writing group that was very sincerely supportive back in Michigan. My first hardcover, THE PHASES OF HARRY MOON, received a champagne party after I’d finished reading it in endless sessions. Part of the lack of cattiness is because no one feels competitive, and I think that’s the key. You have to establish that in your commments in such a forum, and it has to be genuine.
– Sully (Thomas Sullivan)
Sad but true, Janet. Envy is not only green, it’s a huge, insidious monster that dwells in the cold hearts of many false friends. (Sorry about the dark purple prose.)
Thanks for the warning. It’s spot-on. Sometimes they will not only make sure their first words are negative, but that they damn you with faint praise and crippling qualifications.
ThaNk you Rich, Stan, John. Sully, you wrote, “You have to establish that in your commments in such a forum, and it has to be genuine.” That was exactly what I believed we had established in our workshop. Clearly, I was wrong. Good for you, getting champagne and genuine pleasure. May it never be otherwise. –J.
Janet,
I think I too had a bit of the “Funeral Follower” in me some years ago. I like to think I’ve grown up some since then. Now I get great pleasure out of introducing new readers to writers they’ve never met before. I never want to go back to being jealous or envious. There is plenty of success for everyone.
–Greg