When I think of accomplished writers, immediately names like Ernest Hemingway, Stephen King, and Maya Angelou come to mind; even She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (I’m looking at you, Joanne), or more recent viral authors like Sarah J Mass and Colleen Hoover, who gained their fame through recent publications during the pandemic and continually pump out novels like it’s their job (because, well, it is). These are some of the most renowned authors in the publishing world. The dream, for many aspiring writers, is to reach the level of success that allows them to write books as their primary source of income. But these prolific writers all began staring at the same blank page.
In our society, there is definitely a correlation between being an “accomplished” writer and being published. Our society equates being published with accomplishment, fueled by the natural inclination toward capitalistic privilege on which our society functions.
An interesting discourse has sprung out of the recent viral success of author Alex Aster with her newly published novel Lightlark. The author herself did most of the promotion after her book was finally accepted by Abrams Books after multiple rejections from other traditional publishing houses. She won over audiences worldwide through her story of triumph of being a self-made Latinx author, prevailing over multiple hurdles to finally make her dream of being a published author a reality. She secured a six-figure publishing deal and sold the rights to a movie, and her ratings on Goodreads skyrocketed into an overwhelming 5-star rating, even before the book was published. A week before the release date, all of a sudden, influencers and advanced readers came out of the woodwork to drag Aster’s good name through the mud.
In 48 hours, her rating plummeted to 2-stars in an onslaught of review-bombing, and several creators called out her “sob story,” claiming the public had been misled. As it turns out, Lightlark is not her debut, but Aster had previously published a young adult fantasy series that did not sell as well as she’d hoped. It also was revealed that she had certain privileges (financially independent family, etc.) that could have been intentionally veiled to the public in order to sell her success story. This all happened within the two weeks prior to the actual publication date. Does that mean that Aster is no longer successful as a writer?
As I watched this story unfold over the last several months, I found myself stuck in the middle. My previous excitement for the upcoming release was dampened by the discourse as the veil was slowly peeled back to expose a story closer to reality. At the same time, I was gutted on behalf of the author to see her ridiculed and harassed by the online community in what should have been the most exciting part of her journey as an author.
What, then, is the difference between these writers and me? Is it the level of fame? Is it the word count? Is it the audience? The viral popularity?
I am an accomplished writer. I don’t feel the need to prove it, but I do have a degree if you need the proof. As a high school English teacher, I use my training daily through extensive lesson planning. I anticipate questions and meticulously scaffold lessons to be inclusive to all learners, making content accessible to everyone regardless of background, race, language, social economical status, or language. Personally, I think I was born to teach Shakespeare to teenagers. I am not afraid to make a fool of myself in order to make the Bard’s ancient words come alive, but I have not yet published any of my own books. And yet, does all this make me a successful writer?
While there is a certain level of accountability expected of those in the spotlight, as well there should be, I do not think that being published equals accomplishment. Much like my lessons, accomplishment is different for each person.
The person who struggles with chronic or mental illness is accomplished when they keep themselves alive.
The single parent who breaks generational cycles is accomplished when they parent their children with love.
The newly-arrived immigrant in high school is accomplished when they are able to comprehend content in an English-only classroom.
What is the difference between accomplished and successful? I think there is no difference at all.
