Building the world I want to live in

Choosing kindness in publishing

Disclaimer, because I know someone’s going to wonder: This is a topic that’s been on my mind. I’m not calling anyone out. I’m not referring to anything specific.

This song isn’t about you.¹

Many years ago, when I was a brand-new writer, I joined a writing workshop online, signed up for the associated mailing list, and soon saw that someone in the group had just accepted an offer from a major publisher! Big !!!!!!

I . . . had never been in such close contact with a published author before. (Rather, a soon-to-be published author.) I’d emailed authors before, a couple of times. And the replies were courteous, but distant, which was okay. I was just some kid who read their books. Thrilled to be noticed at all.

So right there, on the mailing list, in my congratulations email to the author, I asked if she would read the chapters I had posted to the workshop.

Someone gently explained that I had put this author on the spot, and that the way I’d gone about asking for her time and experience was inappropriate and unprofessional. They weren’t mean about it. I was obviously young and just excited to be there, with real writers.²

Later, the author in question emailed me (privately, so as not to put me on the spot in front of the whole mailing list!), saying she’d looked at my chapters on the workshop, then offered a bit of brief, broad feedback.

By then, I’d spent a few hours scolding myself for being unintentionally rude. So her kindness really, really struck me. She could have ignored my email. She could have responded to me in public and told me to get lost. Instead, she did exactly what I asked, and did it privately so as not to humiliate me.

I still cringe when I think about it. But also . . . I was twenty. Considering all the other questionable choices I made when I was twenty, I’ve got to forgive myself for this one. I was shooting my shot, as the kids say. And frankly, it did work out for me — I got the feedback I asked for . . . and an early lesson in kindness and professionalism. And, not too long after, I got a friend.³

Here’s what I came away with:

1. When sending congratulatory emails, focus on that! First and foremost, the note I sent should have only been about the author and her accomplishment.

2. It’s okay to ask for help. But I should have done it privately, so as not to put her on the spot.

3. Related, I should have been prepared to compensate her somehow. I was asking her to share her time, skill, and hard-earned experience with me! (This is a little cloudy, given that we were both on the same workshop, where critiques were the whole point, but it was always on a voluntary basis. She was still a stranger, and asking was still a breach of etiquette.) At the very least, I could have offered to exchange critiques with her! (Though considering I was still struggling to rub words together and make fire, I don’t think this would have been very valuable to her at the time.)

So the author did me a kindness. And the person who let me know I’d embarrassed myself (my words, not theirs!) did me one, too. No one else said a word about it.

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As I, too, gained skill and experience, this informed how I wanted to behave as an aspiring author, then as a published author.

1. I want to be generous with my knowledge.

Early on, that meant I did a lot more critiques on the workshop than I got back. (I’m sure my early ones weren’t particularly useful for those writers, but I was trying!) I offered to read a lot. I shared blog posts about what I was working on, technique wise. And when I was in a place to offer useful feedback, I did query critiques on my blog.

I have less time for all that now, but I still answer writing and publishing question in various internet spaces. I randomly offer to read sub packages for strangers, when I can. And I started this section of my newsletter because I like talking about writing. I like helping writers understand the industry.

Considering all the help I received as I was learning to tell a decent story, I feel honor-bound to find ways to pay it forward.

2. I try to respond with kindness.⁴

I decided I didn’t want to publicly call out someone for asking a question, not even if I stripped out identifying information. I can ignore emails or DMs. I can say I don’t have time. Or I can try to help.

Regardless what I choose, I must be conscious of my level of power and social clout. If I respond rashly, publicly to something, that gives others permission to do the same on my behalf. But I don’t want to lead pile-ons. I don’t want to be responsible for someone feeling hurt and bullied.

I also have to be aware that some of those people asking might be young. They might not know better yet. And I can show them kindness, the same way people were kind to me when I made a naive request.

3. It’s okay to say no.

Saying no has always been hard, but I’ve forced myself to get better at it over the last several years, because the fact is that I only have so many hours in the day. Many of those hours go to my paying work. Other hours go to spending time with my family and doing my hobbies. I get to decide how many hours I want to give to favors and unpaid work.

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Do you have a story of someone being kind to you, even when they didn’t have to be? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.

1. For the Youths who don’t know that reference, a YouTube link.

2. This was before social media made many authors accessable all the time. I can’t say how I’d have acted if I’d had more exposure to folks behaving professionally (or unprofessionally) in public! Maybe I’d have done better. Maybe not.

3. Who is this author, you might be asking? Elizabeth Bear (find her newsletter here!). She’s written many books since that first deal. And mumble mumble years later, we’re still friends. I’m pretty grateful for that. (Also note: That first series is now going to audiobook!)

4. Obviously, if someone is behaving in a predatory way, that’s different. But I’m talking about people asking in good faith.