On the Making Media podcast a month ago, Matt Reustle and I discussed the differences between writing books and magazines and ye olde newsletters. He asked which I prefer and I was surprised not to have an obvious answer. I’ve thought more about this and still don’t have a clear answer! But it’s an interesting topic and these distinctions can help other writers and readers as well. Why do we engage with certain forms? When do we want to focus more deeply? When do we want something breezier? When do we want a hardcover that weighs more than a brick and when do we want to scroll blithely down the screen?
Books. The big one and, naturally, the hardest one. We know writing a book is a long process, but, unless you’re Jack Kerouac, it’s a longer process than you think. Before you even start you have to create a proposal. This substantial and soul-destroying document includes marketing considerations (comparative titles, target audience, your social media reach), that might understandably discourage lesser souls from starting their great American novel. Imagine John Cheever including his Instagram followers when negotiating The Wapshot Scandal. Good grief.
I like to write so the act of creating a manuscript isn’t the worst. The trouble is that I also like to edit, refine and re-consider. Extensively. I have a reputation in the Scribner copy editing department. I probably went over each chapter of The Believer fifty times. The introduction, a hundred. So deadlines are, ahem, not ideal. I’ve sat in the same chair for 13 hours straight on deadline day. I take deadlines seriously (never missing one when it comes to books—though a one or two might have been renegotiated by my agent—ha!).
It’s not just copy editors who are fed up with me. I’ve been asked by loved ones to be…away from them when the stress of finishing weighs upon me. My mood, like a rain cloud, dampens the morale of apartments, hotel rooms and even entire cabins and surrounding environs. This is another note: Books don’t just affect you; they affect other people in your life. It’s better to know that ahead of time.
Then you think you’re done. But you’re not. There’s more work to do. Covers, fonts, line art, more marketing and one of the worst things on Earth: Trying to get blurbs. Blurbs! Godforsaken blurbs! By the time the book is finally published it’s a year or more after you turned it in. The book is, by definition, behind where you are now. But it’s out in the world and you have to let it go. This is a moment of wistfulness and, I think, a certain amount of pride. You made something that will outlast you.