Both Types of Prolific

I’m not qualified to give you advice.

But I’ve been asked.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered that anyone would look at me and go, “That guy knows what he’s talking about!” And sometimes I do, but when it comes to writing, I can never, ever promise the aspiring author that I will tell them anything they don’t already know.

That being said, I’ve come across a question in my own jaunts into the craft that’s often left me stumped:

What defines prolific?

Does a novel a month mean you are a prolific author? Maybe two a year means you’re blowing past the traditionally-published competition. Maybe one every two or three or five or ten years is the best you can do.

All of the above are fine and have been argued to death by the writing community at large, but I tend to see things differently. It’s a blessing and a curse, I assure you.

When I think of myself, I tend to feel like I’m a prolific writer.

With one book.

Which means, in reality, I’m not a prolific author. But I’m still a prolific writer.

You catch that?

Well, if not, let me explain.

I work hard every time I sit down at the desk. Do I spend some days staring out the window watching the birds come and go from the feeder? Certainly. But something always gets done.

One of my many visitors.

In 2018, I finished between 5 and 6 drafts, depending on your definition of the word, but that’s a whole other can of worms. So how many books did I put out that year?

Zero.

Zilch.

Nada.

Part of why can be read about in my 2018 review post, but I can say I am honestly still proud of the work I’ve done. This past year, I was a prolific writer, but not a prolific author.

To spell it out, being a prolific writer means you write a lot, being a prolific author means you publish a lot. At least, that’s how I see it. I know that’s not how it works for everyone, but for the sake of my own sanity, this is how I choose to handle the craft.

Am I upset a book didn’t come out in 2018? Kind of, but it’s hard to get pissy with myself when I’m looking at a stack of books sauntering through the bottleneck DenCom 2 has currently clogged up. Publishing isn’t easy–or cheap if you want to do it right. Time and patience are a virtue in this profession, one I occasionally forget to embrace. And yet, I can stare at that stack of work and know that each of those binders holds a story someone will love someday.

Not today, but someday.

Even if I die tomorrow, odds are those manuscripts will find their way to Kindle or a publisher where they can be read and enjoyed.

And that is often enough to keep me focused on my work.

This was midway through the year. I managed to spend the second half of the year rewriting that bottom one (DenCom 2).

So, I guess this all goes back to the king daddy of writing advice, a universal truth nearly all authors agree on:

Write.

It’s all we can do, but in a profession that has a way of bringing you down anytime, anywhere, without warning, it’s always good to have something that never fails to make you smile.

But like I said, I’m not a prolific author, so I’m not qualified to say anything.

Right?

Anyway, that’s all for now! See you next week for Chapter 2 of Michael Ridding: A DenCom Thriller!

-S.T. Hoover

What am I reading?

Jerusalem by Alan Moore

It’s been a while since I’ve read a big, big, big book, and if I finish this behemoth, it will probably be the longest novel I’ve ever read. I’m told it clocks in at over 600,000 words (that’s roughly 10 Michael Riddings!) And that’s after edits and cuts were made. The thing was originally supposed to be 1 MILLION WORDS!

In short, Jerusalem is about the author’s hometown, Northampton (the one in England, just so no one gets confused). It tells a story that takes you through the city’s history in what the author calls a work of “Genetic Mythology”. Sometimes it’s too much detail, but so far, I’m loving it anyway. Whether I’ll finish this monster remains to be seen, but I’m interested enough in what’s happened so far to keep going, even if I can’t always understand it.

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