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When I was 20, I got a part time job as an editor. I was in charge of short fiction and poetry at a small magazine in Stockton.
I was bad at it. I mean, really, really bad. It is to this day one of my biggest regrets in life, that I didn't figure out what I was doing in time. That I took the position to be one of power, instead of one of service. I was mean and petty and I hate to think of how many writers I discouraged with my words when they were just starting out, submitting their first stories or poems to a tiny local magazine only to have some asshole tell them they sucked.
I've never received a rejection note from any agent or publisher that was anything less than encouraging - even the form letters - and I wish I'd given more thought to the people on the receiving end of my criticism.
Years later, I came across a collection of science fiction short stories - the Anthony Boucher Memorial collection. Before each story, the writer shared their memories of Anthony Boucher. How he encouraged them, made suggestions to improve the story, went out of his way to help them in their burgeoning careers. And I realized - this could have been me. THIS is what I could have been doing if I'd been less self involved, if I'd taken my job seriously and given it the care it deserved. I could have helped dozens of up and coming writers start in on their careers.
But of course, by then, it was far too late.
Seeing the news last week. Half about trump refusing to admit he lost the election, and half glowing praise for the late Alex Trebek, I wonder if the same thoughts ever crossed his mind. In all his life, being a game show host was the only thing he'd ever been sort of good at. I wonder if, seeing the praise of a true master of the field, he ever felt remorse that he never used it to advantage, to help other people, to take a moment to create any joy and beauty in the world that would be remembered long after his death.
He could have done that in any number of fields, of course. He was born to wealth and privilege and political connections and had power all his life. I wonder if he ever feels any remorse for never doing anything good with it, for never looking beyond himself and considering who else's life he was affecting, and how.
But of course, by now, it's far too late.
I was bad at it. I mean, really, really bad. It is to this day one of my biggest regrets in life, that I didn't figure out what I was doing in time. That I took the position to be one of power, instead of one of service. I was mean and petty and I hate to think of how many writers I discouraged with my words when they were just starting out, submitting their first stories or poems to a tiny local magazine only to have some asshole tell them they sucked.
I've never received a rejection note from any agent or publisher that was anything less than encouraging - even the form letters - and I wish I'd given more thought to the people on the receiving end of my criticism.
Years later, I came across a collection of science fiction short stories - the Anthony Boucher Memorial collection. Before each story, the writer shared their memories of Anthony Boucher. How he encouraged them, made suggestions to improve the story, went out of his way to help them in their burgeoning careers. And I realized - this could have been me. THIS is what I could have been doing if I'd been less self involved, if I'd taken my job seriously and given it the care it deserved. I could have helped dozens of up and coming writers start in on their careers.
But of course, by then, it was far too late.
Seeing the news last week. Half about trump refusing to admit he lost the election, and half glowing praise for the late Alex Trebek, I wonder if the same thoughts ever crossed his mind. In all his life, being a game show host was the only thing he'd ever been sort of good at. I wonder if, seeing the praise of a true master of the field, he ever felt remorse that he never used it to advantage, to help other people, to take a moment to create any joy and beauty in the world that would be remembered long after his death.
He could have done that in any number of fields, of course. He was born to wealth and privilege and political connections and had power all his life. I wonder if he ever feels any remorse for never doing anything good with it, for never looking beyond himself and considering who else's life he was affecting, and how.
But of course, by now, it's far too late.
