Regan Atlas

Nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so

William Shakespeare

I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks about empathy. A whole bunch of conversations happened to align around the same week that this month’s recommended podcast ‘Empathy Gap’ was released, and I found myself saying different iterations of the same thing. In a way, it felt eerily coincidental – some may even say kismet – that almost by design, several separate parties, all seemed to be focusing on the same issue of disconnect, of how to communicate, of how to understand another perspective. But I think that’s more of a symptom of the zeitgeist we are currently experiencing. We have never been more disparate and alone, whilst being constantly reminded to be mindful and compassionate by the influencer thousands of miles away on your TikTok feed. 

It’s hard to be connected and present to one another when we hold the world in the palm of our hands. 

But that’s a topic for another time. 

It got me thinking though, about perspective, and how writing is such a singular and insular means of connecting entire worlds. How do we as writers communicate intangible concepts, philosophies that are so intrinsic to the bounds of our fictional worlds, the niche thought processes that lead a character to make a misguided decision? And further still, when you’re a querying writer aiming for traditional publishing, how do you communicate with the other professionals in this industry? How do you perceive the agent who rejects you with a simple, ‘it’s good, but not the right fit’, or discuss with your editor about the composition of a scene when they’re idea fundamentally opposes yours?

The answer is, in my extremely humble opinion, that there is no right answer to those loaded questions. Because when we talk about the publishing industry and its many parts, when we talk about our stories, the issues aren’t black and white. There are caveats and confounding factors, and ultimately, the very messy human element plays a major role. Every issue has a perspective – this very post being just one – and no subjective question can be answered from a singular disconnected point of view. 

And this is where empathy comes in. 

One of the aforementioned divinely fated conversations was with a dear friend of mine, who agreed that writing can be a form of therapy. My main WIP deals with themes of grief and sudden loss – a thing that I was personally dealing with at the time of writing that particular scene. I described grief from my own perspective, how I experienced it. The sorrow and ache that was so deep; the loneliness in the eye of a storm. And this is one of many personal perspectives I’ve woven into my WIP – because that’s what writer’s do. You can only see the world through your own perspective, with a worldview that has been framed by things that only you have experienced. 

So what do I do when an editor tells me to remove that scene of grief because they don’t get it? 

At some point along the way, my outlet became a project, and now it’s turning into something I hope to market. Which means that whilst I’d like the story to remain true to the story in my head, there has to be some empathy with the fact that it will not be clear to the populous who reads my work if it’s not clear to the editor. 

It goes both ways though – there has to be empathy from the people who work with you on your book. Your agent, your publisher, your editor – there has to be a middle ground in which you all meet in agreement and understanding. You’re all working toward the same goal after all, albeit from different perspectives. 

I know that I will look back at the stuff that I have written in these last 6 months with a different perspective in the future. The front end of this year has not been kind to me and that’s certainly reflected in some of my writing. But that’s what future revision is for, that’s what a supportive empathetic writer’s group is there to catch. 

So the answer to every question to do with writing is to do your best. Do your best to communicate the concept you want to add to the story, try all the tips and tricks. Do your best to understand where someone is coming from, take a beat, try not to be reactive. Do your best to have fun.

Do your best to empathise and connect with those around you – there may be value in a differing perspective.

Do your best to understand that every person who you interact with, is living a life as complicated and as messy as your own. That their perspectives are informed by their experiences – experiences that you may have sympathy with, but you have not experienced yourself. Do your best to understand that differing goals does not equate opposition: a book not being marketable does not equate to bad writing.

Do your best to be kind to yourself – it’s called ‘work in progress’ for a reason.

Just do your best.

Podcast of the Week

The aforementioned podcast that sparked the fated topic of this week’s blog is The Empathy Gap: How to Understand What Your Publisher is Telling You. Writing Excuses as a general rule of thumb, should be something that you subscribe to. This episode in particular talks about the writer/agent/editor/publisher interpersonal relationship dynamic and provides some key insights on how to navigate it from an experienced perspective. This episode is mostly led by DongWon Song, a literary agent at Howard Morhaim Literary Agency.

On a lighter and more adult note, My Dad Wrote a Porno is an excellent serial podcast. Cautionary word of warning – if the more explicit side of fiction is not to your taste, then avoid this. Every episode is a chapter of the adult fantasy written by the father of the host, Jamie. Best surmised as an existential crisis that pairs excellently with a glass of wine. (And also serves as a lesson in how not to write a sex scene).