Know what I find offensive? I mean really, really offensive?
Mediocrity.
I’m really quite OK with bad books, or bad music, or bad movies—as long as I can observe that the people behind the work had the intention of making something great. There’s no shame in trying to produce something beautiful and falling short. There’s no shame in trying to reach beyond your level of talent and hitting a wall.
But mediocrity is another matter. Mediocrity says that you never intended to shoot for the stars. You just wanted to get something out there, make a few bucks and grab a little fame.
It used to be that mediocrity was obliterated by excellence. Think about the pop culture titans who strode the earth in days past: Mailer, Sinatra, Ali, Hepburn, Dylan, Bowie…. Sure there were hacks all over the place back then, but they were largely obscured by the shadows of the truly talented.
Now look at the culture around you and think about who our most famous people are. We’re surrounded by a sea of reality TV stars, vapid mass-produced pop idols and ceaseless self-promoters. We have become a society that doesn’t just tolerate mediocrity, we venerate it. We’ve mistaken heat for talent. And we’ve handed over the keys of our culture to the unbearably average.
So what’s this have to do with you, dear children’s writer? Just this:
We don’t need more children’s books. We need more great children’s books. If you’re not fully committed to trying to create something spectacular, and wonderful and utterly breathtaking, find another hobby.
Now, you may not have the chops to actually succeed at creating something beautiful, but you won’t know that until you truly try. If you fail, at least you’ll have gone down with a dignity of purpose. If you succeed, you may not sell as many books as the celebrity-author-of-the-day, but I guarantee that kids will know. And future generations will know. And, for goodness sakes, is there another form of artistic expression that offers a greater chance for unbounded creativity, joy and inventiveness than a children’s book? And is there another field that offers a better chance for the truly visionary to actually come out on top? J.K. Rowling, Mo Willems and Louis Sachar don’t sell so many books because they were hyped to the heavens. They sell so many books because kids have a natural B.S. detector and can tell the truly great from the truly mediocre. They sell so many books because they dreamed of greatness, and it was greatness they so deservedly achieved.
Kids don’t care about hype. They just want what’s good. In that, they are the final firewall against mediocrity. And they deserve only the best as a result.
And here’s the best part: If you set your sights not on fame and fortune, but rather on simply creating something beautiful, your chances of success become so much greater. When we’ve asked writers about the best moments of their careers, we’ve never heard anyone say “getting a big advance” or “making the bestseller list”. What we’ve heard was “when a parent stopped and thanked me for writing a book that turned her child on to reading” or “when I got a letter from a young boy who told me that my book changed his life” or “when a writer I really admire complimented me.” And these are from some folks who have gotten big advances and have made bestseller lists.
In March 1966, The Velvet Underground released their debut album. It was met with confused indifference and barely dented the charts. Today it’s said that 5,000 people bought that record and every one of them started a band. The impact of that album is profound beyond words and, while most of the bands who bested the Velvet Underground in sales are now forgotten, young musicians still pull that record out and marvel. And then they start a band.
The point: create something special and beautiful and then give it to the world. Forget about sales, forget about acclaim. Just write a book that even a handful of kids will read. But make that book so special, so wonderful, that this handful will go forth and write their own wonderful books.
Right now:
1. Decide if you are truly committed to creating something absolutely, utterly transcendent. If not, walk away.
2. If you are up to the task, defend this decision with everything you’ve got. Don’t let naysayers, shortsighted rejecters, and the voices of those who would drag you down to their level of mediocrity and compromise stop you. Forge ahead and find your path to excellence.
For more articles and instruction, visit the CBI Clubhouse, a community for children’s writers, at http://cbiclubhouse.com
