AJ Alanson, Author

I have a quick routine of gathering bits of news before I start my day. Just a wee few headlines so as not to stomp on my muses and go back to bed. After all, it is around 3:30 in the morning. A couple weeks ago, in one such quick glance, I spit-take my coffee with a quote: “Authors have been protected for a long time, we are very well cared for, but we need to think about our other partners, from bookshops to publishing and self-publishing.”—Ann Patchett, author and owner of Parnassus Books, Nashville, Tenn., in an interview with the Bookseller.

“Hmmm…” I growl while dabbing my keyboard with a tissue. The quote doesn’t quite ring true, but made me look as I proceeded to scour the article in disbelief, but yes, that’s the gist of it. We are seemingly not only pampered, but myopic in our ignorance of what so many others do for us. I ask writers – and all other creatives out there – do you feel protected or exploited?

Just sure in my 4 a.m. righteous indignation, I turned to my writing partner (after, of course, he woke up and had consumed at least one cup of coffee), and complain that the whole landscape for authors feels much more predatory than supportive. But our sleepy discord quickly devolved to a hushed debate – as it was then only 5 a.m. – then suddenly took an odd twist.

“AJ,” he said with a sly smile, “define exploitation.”

I fell silent, but he, a man more than a half-generation older, who has lived with his eyes wide open to the world, cautioned me by explaining that he had seen extremism in protest before I was born and subsequently dumped slogans at my feet like, “If you eat meat, you’re eating yourself,” and “all sex is rape,” and “all work is exploitation.” Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t reach out and pat me on the head, I’d have bitten his hand off at the wrist, but he certainly stopped me in my poor-me tracks. What IS exploitation?

Quick answer? I don’t think there is one. Of course, there are obvious, horrendous examples we can all agree on, but a bigger, murkier definition refused to be pinned down. As is often the case, when my first argument swirls around without resolve, it is because I’m arguing the wrong point, and sadly, this was the gooey center of my murky blob. While I am also a musician, artist, and have dabbled in dance and acting, never have I felt more physically and emotionally vulnerable than when I am in the act of writing.

If you’re not a writer, you may not know that for hours out of each day, someone could walk through your house, blast open your floor safe, and trudge off under the weight of your towering royalties (obviously, joking), and you…would…not…know. A rogue chef could switch out your desiccated fish sticks for kale chips and you wouldn’t taste the difference – maybe. Or a mischievous neighbor might break into your garden and weed it. Wait! That’s okay. The point is that while in the act of writing, I hear nothing, see nothing, and speak nothing – especially in the face of evildoings. I’m not in this world and therefore, I am unable to gird my own loins. The people around me do it for me. Well, metaphorically. Eeeeew! Damn my imagination.

Truth is, my issue with the word, “protected” in the quote isn’t so much the predatory practices of the publishing industry (they are legion), but the sensory deprivation chamber I work in. Unlike any other form of expression, with writing – to publishing – to sales – to the reactions of readers, I never feel safe. I can only grow stronger and braver, believing I can manage what may come, together with the good people around me.

To that end, I suggest you take care of them, from the postal carrier to the gardener, from your friends to your family, from the agent to the publisher, from the reader to the reviewer. As an author, we need REAL people more than we may realize. Yes, they are a risk. I mean, who in their right mind dives off stage into the mash pit? Ah…a story for another time. My point is, yes, humans have their own agendas, but they are also your fans, champions, and your protectors.

Below is a picture of an ice-blunted thorn I find fascinating. There’s an allegory in there somewhere. Maybe an entire fantasy novel. On that note, my newest novel, #10 in The Admiral Inn Mystery and Adventure series, A Wolf in the Cove, has been released. Pick it up here!

An icy January is good time to catch up on the first 9 installments, check yourself into The Admiral Inn, people-watch the guests, make new friends in the small town of Moorewicks Bay, and stay safe with a little comfort reading. And if I haven’t told you lately, thanks to all for…everything.