Like Sharks Do.
- CC Adams
- 29 minutes ago
- 4 min read
From when I was a kid, there was a notion that sharks would need to keep swimming so that they could breathe; that the constant motion was the only way to get air flowing over their gills so that they could extract oxygen (if I understand correctly). Apparently, this isn't entirely true - and that it's specifically some sharks (but not all of them) that need to keep up this perpetual motion to live.
This is something that I've circled back to over the last few days.
I missed out on The Independent Horror mixer a few days ago. I'd booked a ticket, so was all set to attend - but come the day in question, I had multiple things to deal with. And because of that knock-on effect, the smart move was to stay at home and rest, rather than burn the candle at both ends, as it were. That being said, even with missing this one convention, this is still shaping up to be my busiest year - currently with seven convention appearances this year. So far, I've done the UK Ghost Story Festival; both the online and in-person events, and the Sci-Fi Weekender.
As much as I'm grateful for every opportunity to go to a convention, whether I'm formally invited to or not, I'm mindful that the writing is still the bottom line. Relatively speaking, I didn't sell/publish much last year - but rest assured there's more coming down the pike this year.
Part of the reason for this is to keep with the audience. What takes me weeks and months to write (let alone (edit, submit, and ultimately sell) would be read by a reader in a fraction of the time. And because I don't lose sight of that dynamic, I'm 'always writing' as a result. Of course, it's more of a balancing act now, especially since there are all the wonderful things that come as a result of the writing: the convention invites, the conventions themselves, the mentoring, the podcast/Q&A sessions, etc.
And it becomes more of a balancing act, given that a more active schedule is more tiring. I've said more than once that as much as I like being an author, it's not all I do - and I'm certainly not slavish to it. For me, there is more to life than just the writing, and as a result, I try to balance that. Time exercising; and those mornings of getting up at stupid-o'-clock to squat are still hard work, time for some degree of a social life, time with family. Let's not forget time relaxing - which I'm told I don't do enough of.
As someone that lifts weights, be it known that I don't lift as heavy as I used to. Partly because my objectives have changed, but that doesn't mean that I don't train hard. Which, seasoned lifter that I am, brought to mind an article that I hold dear:
In particular, when I was at a bar in the West End last weekend, this rationale came to mind when speaking to a fledgling publisher. Good on anyone trying to make their mark on the industry, carve out a niche, and all that good stuff. At some point once he learns I'm an author, he asks me how much work I've written. I say 'not enough' and this is still my honest belief, since my body of published work thus far wouldn't fill a bookshelf, let alone bookshelves. Still, he seems in awe when he's looking at my Amazon page. So I point out that I've been writing with professional intent since 2009 and, as a result, may have published more work, made more of a name, etc., etc., etc. Everyone starts somewhere.
But, this notion of restlessness; or relentless/ness is still weighing on me.
Because despite someone else's acknowledgement of where I might be, or where they might perceive me to be, it's not enough. Not if I don't yet make enough from the business of writing to live comfortably. Not if my body of work doesn't fill a single bookshelf yet. Not if I'm still mostly unrecognised by the genre community at large. Etc., etc., etc.
Now here's the thing.
One aspect I love about being an indie author is the sense of entrepreneurship; the sense of hustle. That there's no one right way to carve out your niche in the genre. What does get my attention are the naysayers - and commentators, even - who will speak wisdom in terms of what's possible and what isn't. As far as I'm concerned, I'm not interested who's tried a thing and failed. If it makes sense to me, I'm asking questions, I'm putting in the work, I'm doing the rounds. If the formula works, great, if not, time to change tack. There's work to be done and I've barely gotten started.
Relentless. Keeping it moving.
'Like sharks do.'