George R.R. Martin Doesn't Owe You Shit
We'd all like The Winds of Winter -- but do we even deserve it?
A Dance with Dragons came out in 2012, and fans, myself included, have been waiting for The Winds of Winter ever since. I’d love to know how things continue to degrade in Westeros, how the characters I’ve grown to know and love evolve and change and struggle (and die, probably).
Why, oh why, George, haven’t you given me this book?!
Well, because he doesn’t owe me shit. And he doesn’t owe you shit either.
Readers Have Nothing to Do with the Writing Process
When I sit down to write, readers are the last thing on my mind. It’s impossible to please every reader, especially because they have about a thousand opinions and all of them contradict each other.
If I tried to write for the readers, I’d stare at a blank page every day, paralyzed by the fear that I was a shit writer and my fans would be disappointed in my efforts like Patrick Rothfuss.
Or I’d produce something so soulless that I’d end up participating in the very system I sought to criticize like the creator of Squid Game.
There’s a time and place to consider readers, but it’s not in the drafting process.
That time is for you, your writing implement of choice, and the well of creativity within you.
A Book is Not a Promise
You want an ending. Hells, I want an ending that’s better than that D&D monstrosity that aired on HBO where character motivation was sacrificed for soap opera drama.
But so fucking what?
Like the Rolling Stones told us, we don’t always get what we want.
“He’s only successful because we bought his books!” you may cry.
He’s successful because he’s written five amazing books in The Song of Ice & Fire series, books that are temples to the craft in their own right. Whether the series continues or not, their worth still stands.
(And he has other amazing books, too, like my personal favorite, Fevre Dream.)
Buying a book from someone doesn’t form a contract. It doesn’t entitle you to their future time and efforts.
It sure as hell doesn’t give you a pass to talk shit about their health or their age or any other personal details that are none of your damn business.
You can want something without being a dick about it.
The Takeaway Lesson
As a writer, close yourself away from the majority of the world when you’re writing. You have a story to tell, and listening to the voices of others on a mass scale will only water that point down.
They say the successful writers bleed on the page, and that’s how they touch their readers. If that’s true, then a writer obsessed with the desires of others turns from artist to salesman and produces a bleak, hollow story where no blood was even hastily moved from one part of the body to the other, much less spilled.
As a reader? Sure, we have to live with frustration. But at the end of the day, we’re not entitled to anything more than what’s already on the shelves.