The Doctor Is In

Every Friday I turn the blog into a couch for Dr. Sue O'Doherty who offers up some much needed writer's therapy. Be sure to write her at [email protected] if you have questions you'd like her answer.

MY FRIENDS DON’T READ MY BOOKS

Dear Dr. O'Doherty:

I am the author of several novels, each of which has had a certain amount of success. Critical response has been serious and praising, sales have been good, my career path is just about all I could have ever hoped for, and yet...why does it make me feel bad when certain friends don't read my books, or even seem to notice them at all? Why am I so disappointed when the same day I have a rave review in the daily New York Times, an acquaintance greets me with, "Are you still writing?" Why does it matter so much to me when an otherwise good friend has clearly never had sufficient curiosity to read more than one of my novels in the past ten years? I have sufficient curiosity about her life to follow her professional achievements in law, out of loyalty to her far more than out of any true fascination with the legal briefs she has produced. But I read them with interest. Possibly some of the
ignoring is actually a manifestation of jealousy, I know. But not all of it. I know, intellectually, that
I am not my novels. But on another level, I am my novels. How can I find more comfort around this issue? It isn't a matter of finding some better friends -- I have those, too. And in no other way are these people "bad friends," beyond their indifference to my writing, that is. Why do I care about this?

Sensitive Novelist

Dear Sensitive:
Most responsible people take pride in a job well done, but not many identify with their work in the way that a writer does, and few are as sensitive to others’ reactions. You have spent years plumbing your emotional and intellectual depths to create, out of your own psyche, an entire world, peopled with characters as real and important to you as family members, to explore questions that reflect your deepest concerns. Moreover, you have most likely struggled to make the characters memorable, the action dramatic, and the language accessible, so that your book will speak to a broad and diverse audience. And you wonder why you mind that your friends don’t bother to read your work—to look into your soul?

Chances are good, though, that others apprehend the situation differently. Your attorney friend may love her job and be committed to advancement, but I would bet she is happy to leave her work at the office, and assumes that you are, too. It is unlikely that it would even occur to her, or to your other friends, that you experience her perceived lack of interest as a personal rejection.

Some friendships are strong enough to benefit from exploring “why don’t you ever” questions (Why don’t you ever call me on my birthday/compliment me on my weight loss/read my novels?). You may wish to ask your close non-reading friends why they don’t show an interest in your work. Be sure to do this in a way that doesn’t sound accusatory, something along the lines of “I love sharing the important parts of my life with you, and my books reflect what’s most important to me. It would mean a great deal to me if we could talk about my books.”

If you do take this approach, be prepared to learn that a friend simply doesn’t like your writing. Remember that this is not a judgment on your personal worth, but rather a reflection of her or his taste. I happen to hate coconut. You could offer me the most expertly and soulfully prepared gourmet dish available, and if there was coconut in it I would not want it. You might be able to shame me into eating it by reminding me of how important your cooking is to you, but I would still hate it, and would resent you for putting me in this position. Your writing may be coconut to one or several of your friends.

If that is the case, or if, for other reasons, you realize that friends simply will never show an interest in your work, take heart. If your books are selling well and you’re getting reviewed in The New York Times, you are bound to be cultivated by sycophants whose real interest is in dropping your name or furthering their own writing-related careers. A circle of friends who couldn’t care less what you do for a living, and who value you for your sweet smile, your ready wit, your generosity and empathy, or whichever qualities they believe constitute the “real” you, may be a source of growing gratification as your career progresses.

Susan O’Doherty, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist with a New York City-based practice. A well-published author herself, she specializes in issues affecting writers. Send your questions to her at Dr.Sue at mindspring dot com.

Comments

[Leora Skolkin-Smith]

This is such an interesting issue to brng up. I really do identify with the situation of being in a community where people simply ignore your work and how that indifference can effect one's own sense of worth. I do think, though, that good friends who have been there, at least for me, if not in reading or liking the work but in at least appreciating what went into ithe work and what it means--are important. It isn't easy to brush off and not care when people ignore it, even as it garners award nominations and serious praise and reviews. I could leave a community knowing I might find a more supportive one (and did and felt much better), but leaving a good friend of many intimate years is different and much harder. Just sympathetizing. What a difficult position to be in.

[Dr.Sue]

Thanks for your thoughtful comment, Leora! I agree--while it's not likely that an attorney friend will understand the importance of paying attention to your work, another writer should.

[Andi]

I was just thinking about this very thing today. Thanks for the timely advice, Sue!

[Clea Simon]

A great topic, thoughtfully handled. Now I'm working on how to dissuade the friends who do buy my books out of loyalty, but never read them. I love that they want to support me, but they really don't need to (I'm talking about the ones who never read the genre I'm now in.) Ah well, a nice problem to have!

[Sara]

If you are the kind of writer who gets that kind of attention I think you might think about other people more than yourself.

Perhaps she's jealous. Perhaps she's intimidated.

I think writers are really whining much too much these days. No one said you had to take this on, it's a gift to be published.

[Dr.Sue]

Sara, it's hard for those of us who haven't "made it" as writers (and I include myself here) to imagine how closely life after success resembles life before success. We need our friends' support while we're struggling for recognition, and we need it just as much once the recognition comes, especially since critical attacks are often part of the package. Maybe the friend is jealous or intimidated, as you say, but how is that the writer's fault? That might be an issue that needs to be addressed in an honest discussion.

[T]

Fascinating question, and excellent answer, Dr. Sue. I've experienced a weird variant of this problem, with a friend who's also a writer. We used to discuss each other's work all the time--it was a big part of our friendship. When I started writing in a different form, he no longer had any interest in my work. He would never ask about my writing, and if I mentioned something I was doing, he'd ignore it, and then brag about his own work. I finally gave up on him.

[katharine weber]

It would be intriguing to hear from someone on the other side of this, who recognizes her own reluctance to read the work of a friend. Every writer I know has experienced some variation of this situation.

Sara, above -- where do you see whining? Are writers with any success just supposed to shut up and be grateful and have no feelings about their friendships? Your post is certainly a revealing exemplar of the kind of undercurrent of intense feeling that can be directed at published writers.

[sara]

I don't see my post as indicative of any of that. I am published and I too have been well reviewed more than once in the NYT -- which I think is overrated these days.

I don't require/exect my friends to read my books.

I'm not insulted when they don't.

That's putting way too much pressure on a friendship. They are my buddies not my audience

To the writer in question I say --

Welcome to the world baby doll. Books are just books. So some friends read them, some don't. If you need that kind of hand holding take a look at your own insecurites and examine yourself - don't blame the friend.

Maybe your books are boring and the friend doesn't want to be insulting. Maybe you are passive agressive and have turned off you friends ages ago and your friend isn't reading your books just for spite.

I stand by my comment. It is whining to complain that friends aren't reading your books. Even if you read their legal briefs. It's not tit for tat. We're not babies.

My two cents.

[katharine weber]

The hostility around this issue is fascinating.

[Jozef Imrich]

It is said that writers are people who, as children, did not receive sufficient rejection either from adults or peers and so are compelled to seek it relentlessly in later life.

I somehow do not mind not being read or see the book described as MDD - Million Dollar Disaster. http://www.booksamillion.com/ncom/books?pid=1554043115 Pain after all is much stronger emotion than joy
;-P

Yet, whenever I review a galley proof of any forthcoming book these authors ends up on Oprah ;-) NOT ME THOUGH!

http://redcouch.typepad.com/weblog/2005/10/the_media_drago.html Robert Scoble to appear on Oprah in 2006

[Dr.Sue]

Katharine, I agree that this topic brings up very strong feelings. I, too, would like to hear from people who don't read their friends' work--is anyone game?

I'll go out on a limb here and say that I look forward to each of MJ's new books with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. I love the plotting and of course I identify completely with Dr. Morgan Snow (except that she's much smarter and braver than I am, not to mention better dressed). But sometimes the imagery is so powerful it gives me nightmares. If I were just a little more squeamish I might have to give them up (a huge sacrifice). I don't know whether I'd be able to admit this, or whether I'd just change the subject when the topic of her work came up. I'd love to hear others' experiences in not reading.

Clea, I admire your desire to protect your friends from unnecessary expenditure. That's true consideration. I don't think I'd be that thoughtful.

T, it sounds as though you made the right choice, but I'll bet it wasn't easy. And Josef, thanks for the comic relief. I love that quote. Andi, as always, bless you.

Sara, I would also love to hear your reaction to Leora's point, that even if your friends don't read your work, it's important that they acknowledge what it means to you.

[Leora Skolkin-Smith]

Sue, yes, that was an important point for me anyway. I do have friend, wonderful friends, who aren't particularly literary in any way and who I know haven't read my book but they are so incredibly supportive of it emotionally, they totally embrace the concept of what writing means to me as a person and as a friend of me-- the person who is Leora-- they stand by it, read or not read. And they might the man I love. they don't have love my husband, but as a friend it would be important to me for them to apptreciate what he means to me. I don't expect friends to read the book but if a friend ignores it (and the process which in fact takes up about 75% of my life), I have to admit I feel like the letter writer. Am I whining? Maybe I am, but I don't see that as a terrible crime. Childishness is in all of us.

[nbm]

On the one hand, I feel permanently guilty for not having made a point of seeing every one of the movies my dear friend N worked on. Why didn't I? What the hell was I thinking? On the other hand, she was an editor, not the sole auteur. I could criticize the film without quite so much impact on N. If I read a friend's book and I don't care for it, I can either: hurt her with the truth; dissemble; or just keep quiet. The latter may seem like the best choice.

[DrSue]

Leora, thanks for that clarification. Most of us expect our friends to care about the things that are closest to our hearts, and for writers that includes our work as well as our primary relationships, as we care about what is important to them. For some of us this could be the factor that separates true friends from friendly acquaintances. But it's also true that not everyone we love, or who loves us, also loves to read, or, as Clea points out, loves the genre we write in. Is it possible for our friends to support our process while remaining uninvolved with the product?

And then, as nbm points out, there is the possibility that a friend has read our work and doesn't like it. As writers, would we rather believe our friends haven't read us, or that they don't like/can't relate to what we've written?

And what about whining? I didn't see any whining in "Sensitive Novelist's" letter (or any of the posts) but I'm also intrigued by Leora's point that everyone has a childish side, and why shouldn't we whine when we're hurt?

Thank you all for your comments. Lots to think about.

[Leora Skolkin-Smith]

Thanks, sue. I admit I was being a bit tongue-in-cheek about the whining. no, I didn't think the person who wrote the letter was whining. Sorry if I sounded like i did, i thought she had real and legitimate concerns.

Just one more point, to nbm. I really appreciate and admire how sensitive you are being to the friends whose work you may have read and not liked, I, too, have found myself in that uncomfortable position many, many times. But I think one can find a neutral thing to say to avoid a friend misinterpreting your silence for not caring (I don't mean acquaintances, or members of an on-line community who you barely know, there silence is better than humiliating the author in public, I agree) but with close, important friends I think there is a way to let them know you spent the energy reading it and not risk them thinking you are dismissing them. Things you can say like "Well, I did read it but you know what an idiot i am when it comes to a certtain kind of writing so I would even try to offer anything cogent!" But, the best thing I've learned to say is: "You know, I'm just too close to the person who wrote this to be of any critical help. It must have felt good to get this all down, though. And I'm so glad you got it published."
What I think I'm saying is diffidence is hard to take from a close friend.
As for the ignoring acquaintances--well, maybe that's a good reason for the writer (and her reader) not to opt for a closer friendship.
My two cents. sorry for going on.

[Leora Skolkin-Smith]

Thanks, Sue. I admit I was being a bit tongue-in-cheek about the whining. No, I didn't think the person who wrote the letter was whining. Sorry if I sounded like I did, I thought she had real and legitimate concerns.

Just one more point, to nbm. I really appreciate and admire how sensitive you are being to the friends whose work you may have read and not liked. I, too, have found myself in that uncomfortable position many, many times. But I think one can find a neutral thing to say to avoid a friend misinterpreting your silence for not caring (I don't mean acquaintances, or members of an on-line community who you barely know, there silence is better than humiliating the author in public, I agree) but with close, important friends I think there is a way to let them know you spent the energy reading it and not risk them thinking you are dismissing them. Things you can say like "Well, I did read it but you know what an idiot I am when it comes to a certtain kind of writing so I won't even try to offer anything cogent!" But, the best thing I've learned to say is: "You know, I'm just too close to the person who wrote this to be of any critical help. It must have felt good to get this all down, though. And I'm so glad you got it published."
What I think I'm saying is diffidence is hard to take from a close friend.
As for the ignoring acquaintances--well, maybe that's a good reason for the writer (and her reader) not to opt for a closer friendship.
My two cents. sorry for going on.

[leora skolkin-smith]

Ugh. This got posted twice. sorry.

[Jeri]

I can answer this from both ends. I'm a published writer, with several friends who are also published, much more prolifically so than I am. If I read all my friends' books, I'd never have time to read anything else--or write my own books, for that matter. So I read the ones that interest me and leave the rest.

I used to feel sensitive regarding one of my close friends who didn't read my work, but I got over it. I'd rather have him not read it than read it out of obligation and then hate it and feel uncomfortable around me afterwards.

Dr. Sue makes a brilliant point about cherishing those who will always appreciate you for who you are, not what you do. Writing is so personal that it's easy to forget that even if we weren't writers (shudder), we would still be people worth loving.

[Dr.Sue]

Jeri, that was beautifully put. (Now I want to read your books!) Thank you.

[Jennie]

This is an interesting topic. I do sometimes feel hurt when my friends don't read my work, especially if they have asked for a copy, and then . . . nothing.

I see it as something I just have to deal with. One way to do that is to put myself in the place of the other person, which is good fiction training, anyway. My boyfriend is a composer & completely understands my creative needs, but in more than two years he still hasn't finished my novel. I wish to god he would, but it has to do with him as a reader, not his understanding of me. Some people are not readers, and since virtually all writers are, that may be where the gap sometimes occurs.

I liked the comparison of not caring about a friend's work to not caring about a friend's husband. My longtime best friend and editor is now my ex-husband. He'll read the novels. But the boyfriend he'd rather ignore. This is understandable, of course--but it makes it awfully hard to have a real friendship. I'd never thought about the similarity between the issues; thanks for drawing it to my attention, Leora.

[Leora Skolkin-Smith]

Thanks, too, Jennie! A lot to think about...

[Barbara W. Klaser]

People have different tastes in reading. Not everyone I know is going to like the sort of thing I write. It bothered me at first that some close family members and friends didn't read my book, but then I don't take an active interest in everything they do, either.

We do different things, and we read different things.

If I sold used cars, and a friend bought a car elsewhere, would I be offended? Even if they bought the same year, color and model I'd just been telling them I had for sale, I doubt it. I might miss the commission, but I don't think I'd want to let it ruin a good friendship. Cars and books are everywhere. Friends are more rare.

Then again, a true friend should at least acknowledge that one writes and that one has been published. I think if a friend ignored that fact altogether, I'd be a bit upset.

But I also sometimes wonder if any friends are offended that I don't give every single person I know a free book--something I can't afford to do.

[Dr.Sue]

Jennie and Barbara, thank you both for sharing your experiences and perspectives. This is clearly a topic that writers have strong feelings about, and I'm impressed with the thoughtfulness of these comments.