I Get By with a Little Hope for My Friends: How Cheering for My Peers Keeps Me (Somewhat) Sane in the Writing Game
Writing is a lonely endeavor, but being a writer needn’t be. And shouldn’t be.
It took me a while to learn that, and thank goodness I finally did. Otherwise I’d now likely be living in an inpatient mental health facility or roaming the streets and shouting at invisible enemies while wearing a tinfoil hat.
Once it hit me that other writers were not my competition but rather my colleagues, my confidants, my Klonopin, it felt as if a weight as heavy as a bunch of rejected manuscripts had been lifted off my shoulders.
At first, the most valuable thing about befriending fellow scribes seemed to be the source of commiseration it provided. (I’d always gotten plenty of pity and emotional support from family; however, I soon found nothing could compare to the joy of co-bitching and co-moaning with a bunch of like-minded, like-whining authors.) Then, a few years ago, I had an even bigger revelation: Happiness comes not only from being miserable together, but also from wishing success upon one another. Cheering each other on. Genuinely hoping things stop sucking for everyone involved.
Who knew?
In addition to giving you the positive jolt of endorphins that comes with exhibiting generosity, sending out vibes of hope and success to author friends also opens up the possibility of living vicariously through people you like and respect, as well as helps to take your mind off of everything that isn’t going right for you and your writing career. Sure, a little envy may creep in here and there when one of your peers breaks out, but nothing a couple of shots of liquor every night can’t tamp down.
Now, all of the above rambling is really just a preamble. It’s me setting the stage for what I really want to do today, and what I really want to do today is highlight a host of awesome, talented crime fiction authors I’m honored to call friends (even if just on Twitter), and whom I sincerely feel are deserving of a wider reading audience.
So without further ado, below (listed alphabetically) are just some of the great writers—who also happen to be great humans—I won’t stop rooting for until they make it big and start ghosting me:
E.A. Aymar (a.k.a., E.A. Barres)
(*I hesitated to include Craig, as he already kinda broke out with two amazing books—The Contortionist’s Handbook and Dermaphoria—in the early-mid 2000s; however, the publishing gods haven’t smiled on this BRILLIANT writer enough since, and he deserves for that to change ASAP.)
For this last author, I’m going out of alphabetical order, and with good reason. Scott Kelly passed away suddenly last October, and I want to be sure he and his work stand out in this post. Scott—my friend, fellow Vonnegut and Palahniuk fanatic, and partner in both crime (fiction) and drinking—was perhaps the best writer most people have never heard of. I could write an entire post about Scott’s inventive brand of existential transgressive fiction (and probably will in the near future), but for now I’ll just ask that you take a moment to check out his work. There’s nothing I’d love more than for Scott to posthumously achieve the wide readership and acclaim his talent so blatantly warrants—and which Scott never complained about not receiving.
Scott, I miss you, brother. I think about and read you often, and will continue spreading the word about your words until I join you, wherever you are.
NOTE: If you consider yourself one of my writer friends (or even just Twitter friends who writes) and you don’t see your name above, it’s likely because: a) I haven’t yet gotten around to reading your work; or b) you’ve already “made it” in my eyes. Yes, I’m talking to you S.A. Cosby, Jennifer Hillier, Rachel Howzell Hall, and Stephen Mack Jones. And guess what? … I couldn’t be happier for you!
