This is a fascinating letter written to Rumer Godden by her publisher when she tentatively began to submit her first offerings. I found it true. I found it comforting. I found it bracing in its challenge.
"...I feel an impulse to repeat to you what I think I said at one time, namely that I feel violently convinced that you ought not to be deflected from whatever from time to time seems your natural inclination, by any ideas about conventionality or the public demand. Just write whatever the spirit moves you to write, and forget every other consideration. I think you are one of those writers who will appeal to a section of the reading public no matter what approach you make to them.
One way and another, I do not think an artist such as yourself either ought to compromise with the general public or would be able to do so, and that it will be best for you to write to please yourself and arrive at a sale of 10,000 copies rather than to write a book to please the public in the hope of arriving at a sale of 100,000 copies.
And I do not admit that the proper interpretation of this letter is that I have no business to be a publisher".
- Peter Davies
There is such a perfect and challenging honesty here. Peter sees it himself in pointing out quite wittily at the end that perhaps publishers do think in money and sales, but they don't have to end there - that he, himself, is STILL a good publisher by giving his sound, if surprising, advice to Rumer.
When money, fame, or 'circulation' enter the scene, a writer can be swept up into that gut wrenching whirlwind and perhaps lose all grounding in themselves. Their particular muse can easily be drowned out by the ever present anxiety of numbers and counts and sales, if they aren't careful. It seems MOST difficult if you make your living writing like this. You must truly struggle between the public demand that might very well be the thing that puts food on the table, and the longing determination to write what is in your heart and mind - put there by your experiences, your own private musings, or a quiet solitude with God.
It seems that keeping a steady integration of talent and purpose might presuppose a set of writing blinders. And even then, difficulties abound. We must pray for Catholic writers who make their living through their craft and yet must do it on the internet.
One writer whom I love and respect, and who is a straight shooter if there ever was one, mentioned that she took a three month hiatus from online everything. This took some doing as she is a real presence. Her first day back after that hiatus she said, "When I got back on the internet, I was overwhelmed by the NOISE. The writing noise." She had found silence again in those three months. And she could probably hear herself think again.
The writer must find a way to hear herself/himself think.
You might assume that this is self evident. But if you are online at all, your attention is immediately focused on what others are writing - being more tempted curiosity-wise than interest-wise. It can get a bit frantic if you are not determined to pull back before the train derails. All the questions. What is selling, what is demanded, what saints are cool right now (I kid you not), what is the hot topic du jour, what young mom has the pulse on what's what in the influencer world - and is she wise enough to speak yet? Even wanting to BE an influencer as a brass ringed GOAL instead of just someone who started out saying something true, beautiful and good which others naturally grew to see as such. Poor Pope Francis is always up for grabs - both for good or ill. Many writers and online publishers are constantly combing - sometimes downright trolling - the internet to find out what's hot and selling. It is very unnerving to think of, say, a St Hildegard, as a trending sell but it sometimes comes off that way and tightens the stomach. And in the end, you get a lot of repetition that grounds the message into the ground. Writers are exhausted by having to 'keep up' with the public demand, with 'trends' in the Catholic world, etc. They keep looking at each other, anticipating each other's moves so they can get there first. And that public demand often creates a breeding ground for competition, envy, and avarice. Even if you are minding your own business and have not asked for any of it, you will suffer from collateral damage, if you are not careful. It's slightly disconcerting because the subject matter is the Faith, and prayer, and the holiness of the saints. There seems a disconnect. At times it can sound like newspaper feed, or soundbites from a news show, rather than deep, thoughtful ruminations produced by prayer and quiet introspection. Sometimes, it seems more like a scene from the fast talking play "The Front Page" rather than speaking from the recesses of the inspired brain given time to formulate. It's all very fast, scrolling by a hundred miles an hour, images, blurbs, soundbites. If you are not already anxious, you will be soon enough. It's a conundrum.
What's to be done? It is a more difficult effort than you might think to be a Catholic writer in a cyberspace world. To always be writing from the center of prayer and vocation.
Some there are who do it, and do it well. There are some stellar websites that find their one passion like concentrating on the home, both making it beautiful physically and morally, or concentrating on marriage or taking a matured, and well honed experience and teaching young moms some lost arts; others who delve deeply into poetry maybe, expanding our understanding sometimes of literature, or telling unique stories about living our faith in the world we find ourselves in - I am always brought to peace by the stories in "Plough" for instance. There are some wonderful Catholic novels produced that are creative and unique and well researched historically. But you can always tell these are the real deal. They have the feel of prayer and care about them. And when you are reading, you do not feel frantic. You rest.
Substack seems a hopeful solution to the noise in helpful ways. You can always find someone you love and who is writing in depth about something you both love. There seems more rumination and less “hype”. You can pick and choose. You can grow an attention span here as opposed to the scatteredness of instagram or Facebook.
Writers need prayer, need introspection, need courage to write what they have been inspired to write. Would that all publishers could say with Peter Davies - write what you have been given to write. If you are a person of prayer, you will know what this is. And you must always be prepared to face the dragon of the fast talking internet with your honest and solid pen in hand and not be swept away in the scroll.
In the end, writers like Emily Dickinson and Gerard Manley Hopkins were quite heroic in this particular vein. They continued the course set out by their particular muse despite public opinion or trends in sales. They suffered for this. But in the end, suffering is redemptive. It is the cradle of the new man. Writers are not exempt.
Perhaps the Catholic writers' suffering comes from being true, neither looking to the right nor the left. But straight on toward the east from which their inspiration comes. Flannery O'Connor comes to mind as one who struggled with this effort mightily and succeeded in the end, quite bravely.
These are just musings. Not answers. Not thoughts from on high. The internet is quite a challenging tool no matter how you slice it. But it seems more so for a Catholic writer. It is a new temptation that must be overcome with grace. And nothing is new about that in this valley of tears.
So much wisdom here. I find the writing life, and really the interior life, has me pondering and processing long past the headlines. And it is so easy to feel “behind” in this internet age. Pondering words today that have a sense of prayer and peace and rest to them, as you so beautifully share.
I really like your musings, Denise. So much truth and beauty in them!