book reviews + authors reading aloud + on the connection of pain & art
This new year means that 2 months have passed since Still Moving was published.
Now that I'm done writing, I really savor the feedback. I'm SO GRATEFUL for reviews and online posts. The book's Amazon listing has some very kind ones.
As a self-published author, I don't have a book tour lined up, nor do I have interviews or professional book reviews. Whatever people share makes a huge difference to potential readers.
AND these same things make a huge difference to indie bookstores! Some of them carry self-published books. I'm hoping to plan some live events, hopefully at bookstores, this year. Engaged, expressive readers demonstrate interest to bookstores.
So, if you've read Still Moving and are willing to give a review or post online, that's a huge help! And on Amazon you can post anonymously, if you want to maintain privacy.
My intention for upcoming live events is to read excerpts from the book. It's standard promotion practice, but I'd do it even if it weren't, because I LOVE hearing authors read their own work! I've heard many over the years, with Seamus Heaney (swoon) and Isabel Allende (swoon) among my favorites.
(At Isabel Allende's event, I also got to ask her a question during Q&A. Story for another time. SWOOOOOON.)
Anyways, you can listen to me read an excerpt from Still Moving, in the Creativity Episodeof the Long Covid Podcast. It's available wherever you listen to podcasts, and I'm honored to be in the company of other artists who are navigating struggles from the same illness.
Which brings me to the connection of pain and art, and debates like –
Is pain necessary to create good art? Does the best art come from pain?
I don't think there's a single answer, but I do know mine. As someone who's lived decades with chronic pain, I don't believe pain is necessary for good art. Nor do I believe that the best art always comes from pain.
Does pain frequently inspire amazing art? Absolutely yes.
Does the best art come from pain? Depends on the person.
We live in a world that constantly invalidates pain. It makes perfect sense, then, that people so often turn to art, when the world denies their experience. Pain inspires so much art because those creations are precisely when people process their full emotional experience.
Some of my favorite books, music, poetry have been inspired or driven by the pain of the artist. AND some of the best art I've ever encountered has NOT.
Still Moving, of course, is fully an account of my experiences of pain. But it's not a doom and gloom lament of hopelessness.
If we lived in a world that honored pain, I probably wouldn't have written it. But I did, in part because I believe we need a collective reckoning about how we (generally don't) process pain.
If you choose to read it – you'll know that I believe the acknowledgement of pain creates portals to what is much more meaningful.
If you've already read it – then you know what I believe is through those portals.
Either way, in a world where we constantly face corruption and injustice, where on social media we can witness images and videos from genocide, I hope you find your own reckoning about pain. I always recommend that making art be part of the process. Let the act of creating be a balm for your spirit.
Or if you need ideas, the Creativity Episode can get you started.
The more we can be honest about pain, the more beauty and abundance and connection we can celebrate. And from there, I know we can create our most loving world, in which we create some amazing fucking art.
In full acknowledgement,
S.
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