[It’s good to remember that those big gods would be nothing without little gods. They’d have no Olympus without them–just empty thrones. In some ways, I’d prefer Olympus to fall… Such a sad post about the loss of an author’s power–at the risk of the creation. Are you a “good little god” if what you create suffers under your own apathy to let it be abused?]
I’ve been thinking a lot about control. As a writer, you sculpt a world from scratch, populate it with people, with stories, and control them all. From the geography to the folklore, the smallest details to the largest plots. It’s in your hands.
In that sense, as a writer, you become a ‘little god’.
But in publishing–that business side of the art, your control dissolves.
You don’t control whether the book sells.
You don’t control the marketing budget if he does.
You don’t control the publisher’s investment.
You don’t control your place in-house.
You don’t control the sales plan.
You don’t control the cover art.
You don’t control the jacket copy.
You don’t control how the book is portrayed, publicized, given, sold to the world.
You don’t control anything.
Or at least, it can feel that way.
Because, of course, you still control one thing.
The words.
The content between…
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Yeah, it’s super depressing that V.E. Schwab has given into the big publishing myth. #PunIntended I’ve read some of her novels, but there is a huge shadow looming over them that shows she doesn’t have as much creative freedom as she deserves.
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