Tuesday 10 June 2008

Still by the phone, debating hope v expectations

OK strictly speaking, ‘about a week’ has passed since I was told the agent would call in ‘about a week’. Were this the finance industry or any other industry it would be time to get annoyed but this is publishing so an ‘about a week’ notice issued at the start of June can reasonably last until the end of June. Still I’m having to do the ‘zero expectations’ mantra in the mirror. 


I do have a problem with the whole ‘having no expectations’ thing. Where do hopes fit it that? I can have no expectations. Expecting nothing is no problem. but how can you not ‘hope’ something will happen. It means you would never think about it happening and in doing that you would never seek it in the first place. Are people confusing ‘expectation’ with ‘hope’ when they say ‘no expectations’. It’s not expectations that get dashed, it’s hopes. So by saying ‘you should have no expectations and so you won’t be disappointed’ are people really saying don’t have any hopes? That’s impossible. What sort of a grim life would we live without hopes? I’d rather live with frustration and disappointment than without hope.


The whole waiting for the phone to ring is way too much like dating and wondering whether you’ve met the ‘right’ one to, the next potential boyfriend/girlfriend . When it happens it all happens quickly and easily as if it were the most natural thing in the world and you can believe how simple and straightforward, you’re never waiting for them to call you. When it doesn’t you wonder at the number of complete bastards in the world that never return calls.


Life in the harem


Given the relationship publishers have with their authors, perhaps boyfriend/girlfirend isn’t the right analogy. Publishers are more like sultans with harems. Some publishers have lavish harems with many writer wives, supported in luxury. Others are less wealthy and can only afford small harems with a limited number of wives.


Inside the harem some wives deliver strong and healthy sons and so are loved, some deliver children of great beauty, others amuse and entertain. All compete with each other for the sultan’s attention and affections. When it is your turn with the sultan, when your book is about to published you are lavished with attention, you feel the stars shine for you alone. However when your ‘night of passion’ is over, the month you book is released is gone, then he is onto the next wife showering her with the attention that was yours. The better the result of your ‘night of passion’ with the sultan, then the more times the sultan wants you back. The sultan demands to see you every year if possible. If the night of passion fails to deliver a strong and health profit then the sultan doesn’t want to see you so often. You have to lure him with promises of great stories and wonderful results. A night of passion without the desired result and then your position in the harem is unsafe. The sultan’s tastes change, he seeks fresh companions with new charms. Sadly sultans in Australia are reducing their harems, no longer voraciously seeking new wives, they are happy to settle down with their existing ones, the ones they know and trust. It’s not a good time to be concubine. Inside the harem you constantly fear being thrown out. Outside the harem you fear you may never be allowed in one again as you look longingly at the walls. You may have been powerless, you may have complained bitterly about being used but when the sultan loved you, it was magical, intoxicating. You didn’t care if he was loving a dozen other wives at the same time with a dozen more to follow next month, it became what you lived for. Living without it is cold and lonely. The stars are shining for someone else now.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Thought you might like the "expectation-reality mismatch" entry in Don Watson's Watson's dictionary of weasel words, 2004. Take heart your expectations will not be dashed merely mis-matched.