I am finding new ways to humiliate myself lately. And I don’t mean that Pilates class I took this morning.
On some level, it comes with the territory. We writers must expose ourselves to constant degradation. We share our dark desires with the world, even if they are fictionalized. We let random Amazon and Goodreads reviewers pummel us with unkindness. We hand over those freshly written words to the ravenous claws of our critique group. (Just kidding critique group. You are all lovely, even when you do rip my work apart.)
But this is not the humiliation I write about today.
No, this is something entirely different.
I think I did something very stupid.
I lost the proof copy of my novel.
I only had one. My debut novel was published with a small press, so although it I had the chance to proof quite a few digital versions after it had been edited and proofed by my publisher, I only received one paperback ARC (advanced reader copy) to proof. That was this summer. I read it multiple times, circled numerous typos, and put it on a shelf.
I recently realized that it was missing. Which of course, begs the question: where did it go? Did I accidentally send it out to one of my Goodreads Giveaway winners? Did I donate it to a library? Did I sell it at a conference?
Will someone, somewhere, in the very near future, open up a copy of my book and wonder why it has so many typos?
I’ll probably never know. It’s entirely possible that my toddler hid it somewhere. She’s done that with my cell phone numerous times. But at least the cell phone has GPS.
This lost proof copy has made me kind of nauseous. Incidentally, so did that Pilates class this morning.
This has been happening more and more often these days. The self-humiliation, I mean. And in the digital age, I don’t even have to leave the house to do it.
There was the time I misidentified a famous thriller writer in a blog post—only to be corrected by another famous thriller writer (who I kind of worship, so the experience was…well…humiliating.)
There was the time I failed to recognize the guest of honor at a writing conference, and then sputtered all sorts of apologies like a crazed fan.
There are all those typos that I have discovered–in blogs, in on line interviews– everywhere! I even found a typo in my name once. And thank goodness I double checked the title of this blog post. I seriously almost misspelled “embarrassed,” and I’m NOT EVEN JOKING.
And this doesn’t even include the feeling of shame that overwhelms me every time I beg my Facebook friends to LIKE my writer page, or buy my book or to please, please, please write an Amazon review if they’ve read it.
So what’s a writer to do? I would ask you to share your thoughts in the comments, but then I will feel kind of humiliated when no one does comment.
I could stop blogging. I could stop attempting to promote my book. I could change my name, stop writing, and move to some remote island. Actually, that last one sounds like a pretty good idea.
Or I could use it in my writing. Which is what I just did.
I feel so much better now. Not really.
Oh, dear. And I thought I was the one deserving of the title Ms. Typo.
Sorry about you ARC. May it appear just as suddenly as it disappeared, Nina. Meantime keep singing the old Leonard Cohen song–
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in”
Thanks Mirka! Great advice!
Think of all the writers, like me, who envy you for having a proof copy of a published novel to lose! Of course, I do imagine if I had such a treasure it would be all alone on a shelf of honor and never confused with a book for a Goodreads Giveaway – another surge of envy, you’ve had a Goodreads Giveaway! I could go on, but I think I’ve made enough use of my envy for today.
Thank you Ellen for reminding me I should count my blessings!
Love this Nina. We have to talk about the shame so that it doesn’t become so overwhelming that we can’t write anymore – or create anything.
I have the most constant sense of shame. Shame when I write real things on my blog and I’m not sure I ‘should’ and the constant shame of my shitty grammar and spelling. It’s endless. But it helps to name the demon. You are not alone.
Writing the “real” stuff is especially scary. But it’s often when I go somewhere that I don’t really think I should go that my writing really resonates for others. (I actually wasn’t even sure if I should post this blog!)
This weekend at the SCBWI conference I saw one writer play piano in front of random people, another jump in to add a Broadway melody, a third jump up in front of the whole auditorium and make a scene when he won a joke contest, and a fourth sing in front of 1100 people, even though she wasn’t planning on sharing the song. Writers have make mistakes and be embarrassed and put themselves out there because that’s what we do – all the time to our characters. If we aren’t real, how can they be. Keep making mistakes. I bet that ARC will simply show up.
So true! If we didn’t put ourselves out there, we would never have anything to write about!
I totally get what you’re saying. I’ve done plenty of embarrassing things I can’t get back. I gave one of my manuscripts a new title and forgot to change it when submitting to a publisher. So, the cover letter had one title and the sample chapters had another. I’m sure they found that confusing and weird. No wonder I got a rejection. I wrote a blog piece where I mentioned a book that wound up winning the Caldecott this year – and I wrote the title wrong. And what makes it worse was that it was not on my blog but a guest post on a much more visited blog. Ugh. Oh, the list goes on and on. Sorry about your ARC. I know what you mean about that too. I try to keep them separated from the rest, but every now and then I’m like, “Ah! Which one is it?”
It’s nice to know I am not alone! 🙂
I feel your pain, Nina. I just realized I’ve been misspelling a famous author’s name on a query letter I’ve sent to dozens of agents. That doesn’t even include all the mistakes I’m not even aware of! My guess is your ARC will turn up in a drawer somewhere when you least expect it.
Thanks, Laura! I am always misspelling names too– even when I double and triple check.
You’ve voiced the incessant secret angst of us all, Nina, right down to the green photo! Our tiny slips and blunders loom large inside ourselves while the outside world quickly forgets! [let us believe, anyway] We must stay strong and fully engaged in the blogosphere without fear! [and I’m sure your ARC is going to surface]
It does seem to be everyone’s secret angst. This blog was so much more popular than I could have ever anticipated!
This should make you feel better: I once wrote a story on famous people who died of heart disease and included Abraham Lincoln, who supposedly had Marfan’s. My editor wrote back, “Really? And I always thought it was THE BULLET IN HIS HEAD.” That one still wakes me up at night.
Thanks for that story. 🙂