A Writer’s Ambition – What Kind Do You Have?

A Writer’s Ambition – What Kind Do You Have?

This is a fair question to ask yourself, and me, after two straight posts about book promotion and sales. Why even write about book sales and promotion? Why is that a worthwhile thing for an artist to think about? What kind of ambition do you have for yourself and you writing?

There is no right answer. You can write for the joy of it, and then never publish anything. You can try to write the best work you can, and never show it to anyone, or only show it to a few, or secretly collect it in your desk. You can try to write the best work you can, work your butt off to publish and get your work seen by as many readers as possible. You can write and try to make it on the slam scene. You can try to write for a commercial audience (although, frankly, there’s not much of a commercial audience for poetry – your Billy Collins poems – easy to understand, funny, sort of self-congratulatory – and your Mary Oliver poems – accessible, vaguely spiritual, every one designed to leave the reader mildly uplifted – notwithstanding). You can write and try to sell as many books as possible, or you can write and try to get critical acclaim for your book – these are usually two distinct types of ambition, although you can try to do both. You can write for an audience of one – yourself – or an audience of millions (if you’re very lucky).

I’ve been thinking about this, about why I write, what I want from the experience, what I want to accomplish with each particular book. I have to confess that I feel like a failure if I don’t sell a particular number of books, if I don’t get the right reviews in the right places, if I don’t win any prizes. Of course many writers go through these same throes, one-part thwarted ambition, one-part dented ego and ragged insecurity. I want each of my books to reach as big an audience as possible – maybe as big as I can without, you know, betraying myself, any integrity I have and my own artistic goals – and part of this means I have a willingness to do what I can to help launch each book into the world in the best way I know. (See the last two posts.)

But even more than book sales, I’d really like to know that the book meant something to people – critics, yes, that’s fantastic, especially smart critics who read your book really intelligently and empathetically – but also, high school and college kids, people in other countries, people I don’t know. I have the demented hope that perhaps each book might live a life beyond me, a life longer than mine.

So whatever ambitions you have for yourselves and your writing, I say, go for it. Life is short and uncertain and you kind of have to go after what you love, what you, at the end of the day, really care about. The writer’s life is usually cobbled together from a series of gigs – teaching, freelance writing, copyediting, insurance company Vice President, doctor – and whatever spare time and energy a person can afford to give. If you’re going to spend time writing, write the best work you can, and then give it your best effort to launch, in whatever way you’re most passionate about. Books, tumblr, twitter, slams – you can deliver your poetry in many ways, to many audiences.