In praise of being ordinary

Yesterday I showed my students a Ted Talk by Brene Brown, a psychologist. She spoke about invulnerability as a major deterrent to well-being in the US. The major factor she cited as the root of invulnerability in the US was the need to be extraordinary.

Think about it: writers not only want to be published, they want to be on the NY Times Bestsellers' list. That list has only so much room on it, and by its nature it does not mark the best books, but the best sellers. How many hurdles does an author need to jump to get on this list? An agent has to read an excerpt of the book and declarable it marketable. "Marketable" has less to do with its quality than it does how well the book will sell. Then the agent shops the book to potential publishers, who evaluate the book in terms of -- yes, marketability. Not that the agent or publisher will ignore quality, but the final criteria is marketability.

I understand this -- my book may be the result of blood and sweat and fantasy, but to the publishing industry, my book is a potential moneymaker. As there are a limited number of publishers in the fiction market, the best strategy is conservative -- that is, choosing books similar to those that have already sold.

I have had to give up my need to be extraordinary to have the courage to write at all. I would love to be published, but I also know I write on beloved topics that don't sell well in the mainstream -- a pacifist ecocollective, the tension of living with diversity, alternate religious myths, Reason as a deity in the pantheon of human deities, and more. An all-too-human utopia that has become Brigadoon because of its secrets.

I would like to be published, but I know I will struggle. I know I will get more letters that say "... but it's not what we're looking for at this time." And I will relax in my status as ordinary and write some more.