Happy Friday
Imagine this. 100 years after your death, people are still reading your books and making them into movies. People earned millions off your work. You’re dubbed one of the “greats” and they named a literary award after you.
And you never got to enjoy it a lick of it.
Because all your work was published posthumously.
After death.
That was Franz Kafka in a nutshell.
He always wanted to write. But his father didn’t approve. Because, you know, artists starve. Right? It’s not practical, his father insisted.
So he went to law school and became a lawyer. But he hated it. The 12 hour days made him a little crazy. So he quit and got a job selling insurance. It was shorter hours, which let him write into the night. Sound familiar?
That’s pretty much how he spent his adult life. Selling insurance and writing at night. Then he got tuberculosis and died at age 40.
I dunno. Substitute cancer or covid for tuberculosis and I wonder how many writers that describes today. Working that “bread” job and writing at night.
That’s what Kafka’s friend called his insurance job. A “bread” job.
Just doing the job to put bread on the table.
Disorganization and doubt are dream killers
Kafka was plagued with doubt. He was never sure if his writing was any good. Published a couple of short pieces. Prose, really. But the response was lukewarm, which made him terrified to share his “real” writing. The novels.
Plus, he was disorganized. He’d write in notebooks and sometimes he’d just start a new story right in the middle of the notebook.
When he died, he left a note for his best friend.
It said burn everything. Burn all the notebooks.
His friend didn’t listen. He started reading, instead. And thought they were good.
So he started publishing them.
Took him almost 10 years. He had to organize all the notebooks to put the manuscripts together. Like throwing all the pieces of several jigsaw puzzles into one box.
The books shocked the literary community. And made him famous. A classic. An inspiration. With a literary award named after him.
I can’t help thinking he would have liked to know his work was enjoyed.
Instead of dying filled with doubt about his ability to write.
Got an opinion on this?
I started digging into Kafka’s history for an article I want to write. But reading about all his notebooks and unfinished books hit me in a funny place.
Read funny as “uncomfortable.”
I know why. It’s the stack of notebooks on my desk. A stack of writing almost 4 inches high. Not even kidding. So much writing. So much started, not finished.
For example…
The notes about cover design. Because hot damn — we love to say not to judge a book by the cover, but we do. Too many cover designers don’t know what sells books. They just know how to use photoshop. And the good ones are expensive.
The book about finding your audience. Because that’s always the first step. I even drew illustrations and mind maps. There it sits. Can you believe it?
One is loosely called “stop marketing your book” — it’s pages and pages of notes about why most marketing fails, why internet marketing doesn’t work very well for writers and what actually works and doesn’t feel icky and pushy.
An entire collection of notes about how to make an income writing. Because it’s a rough time out there and we all know Medium pays crap to most writers. Sure, a tiny handful are doing well. But 94% of people make under $100
Another full of information about email marketing for creative people. Because there’s nothing worse that signing up to get email from someone whose writing or art you loved, and then they spoil it with infernal pitching. Bleh.
There’s even one that’s a little parable. Kind of like “Who moved my cheese” but about marketing and why so many mice get it wrong. Because if you want to get out of the daily trap, you gotta know how to sell your cheese.
I have no illusions that any of them will be great. I’m not Kafka. I’m not writing ground breaking novels. But helpful? Probably. I’ve done what I do for 20 years. I’ve learned a little along the way. You know?
So I know what I need to do.
Just pick one. And finish it. But which one? That’s the question. That’s the villainous question that keeps me writing on so many different topics at the same time.
So I’m wondering.
Got an opinion?
I’d love to hear what you think. Because honestly? I don’t want to be that person who tells my kid when I die, burn my notebooks. She’d do it, too! lol.
I know, I know. All of them. Finish all of them.
But which do you think I should finish first?
Leave a comment and let me know?
Thanks!
“A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”
― Franz Kafka
What I wrote this week…
5 Things I don’t understand about America because I’m Canadian
Writers, Stop Using Dark Backgrounds. It Triggers the Halation Effect.
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Thanks and have a great weekend!
:)
Linda
"Stop Marketing Your Book" would be the most useful to me. Let me know when it's available!
Selfishly, I'd like to know how to reach my audience. I've serious doubts that much of one exists. Meanwhile, you seem to have found yours so please keep on writing what moves you. :)