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Jul. 31st, 2002 02:59 pmA bit of apropos wisdom from Mr. Lileks(.com) today (regarding his upcoming Interior Desecrators coffee table book):
Recently I've been realizing that, even though I feel much sunnier about Macnut than I did about P&X, finishing it will be just as much of a mentally rending process. I don't know if there is a way to feel really and trully done with such a work... you just keep flailing at it until they tell you to stop, then you rip it to pieces in order to make it look vaguely presentable, shove the rotten mess at your publishers and then curl up in the corner while sobbing and wondering if it's not to late to have them take your name off the cover, for truly this will be the most harmful collection of falsehoods ever to blight the bookshelves of human civilization, you're sure of it.
Just as before, people will say Congratulations! to me and I will respond with a goulish Uhhnnn or the like, vaguely ashamed. And, in all likelihood, largely positive feedback will once again start filtering back to me, and I'll blink dully at it all, sure that all the reviewers are insane and haven't actually read the book.
The good part, though, is that I now know all this, going into it for the second time. I think this is how Erik made holding up his end of P&X look so easy; he had already gone through this process, with Learning XML, so he could better tough his way through the illusory disillusionment. I'm starting to think that my better attitude isn't so much because I'm more confident with the subject matter, as it is from being more familiar with the cerebral cheese grater that is the authorship process.
The knowledge doesn't make the process any less grating... just less despair-inspiring.
Funny note: I read the self-referential Edward Gorey story about Mr. Earbrass and the Unstrung Harp while finishing P&X, and so apparently this process isn't limited to non-fiction writers.
But I hate my book. Read, edit, wince, print, scowl, rewrite, print, stock printer with paper, change ink, despair, doubt self-worth, consider Amway career, repeat. This is why I hate the final stages of book preparation - by the time you've finished prepping it for the publisher, you just hate it. There's nothing new or original. Oh, now and then a bit of mild japery prods a glimmer of a grin, but that's rare. Of course, I thought this about the Gallery, and it went over well, so let's hope Interiors isn't the career-ending wad-o-crap it looks like now.
And yes, I will be taking pre-orders!
Recently I've been realizing that, even though I feel much sunnier about Macnut than I did about P&X, finishing it will be just as much of a mentally rending process. I don't know if there is a way to feel really and trully done with such a work... you just keep flailing at it until they tell you to stop, then you rip it to pieces in order to make it look vaguely presentable, shove the rotten mess at your publishers and then curl up in the corner while sobbing and wondering if it's not to late to have them take your name off the cover, for truly this will be the most harmful collection of falsehoods ever to blight the bookshelves of human civilization, you're sure of it.
Just as before, people will say Congratulations! to me and I will respond with a goulish Uhhnnn or the like, vaguely ashamed. And, in all likelihood, largely positive feedback will once again start filtering back to me, and I'll blink dully at it all, sure that all the reviewers are insane and haven't actually read the book.
The good part, though, is that I now know all this, going into it for the second time. I think this is how Erik made holding up his end of P&X look so easy; he had already gone through this process, with Learning XML, so he could better tough his way through the illusory disillusionment. I'm starting to think that my better attitude isn't so much because I'm more confident with the subject matter, as it is from being more familiar with the cerebral cheese grater that is the authorship process.
The knowledge doesn't make the process any less grating... just less despair-inspiring.
Funny note: I read the self-referential Edward Gorey story about Mr. Earbrass and the Unstrung Harp while finishing P&X, and so apparently this process isn't limited to non-fiction writers.