Another Spring Picture

(from the current story in progress, which is set in Tabat)

“This craze for exorcisms is a harmful fad,” Dr. Fantastik said to the man at his left. His tone was severe in a way that seemed at odds with the addressed man’s mien, for the lefthand man was wholely engaged in his newspaper, turning over the yellow sheets with an attention utterly untouched by Dr. Fantastik’s presence.

“A harmful fad!” Doctor Fantastik said, a trifle louder, and this time the man looked up, then left and right, as though trying to determine who the Doctor might be speaking to. Seeing an empty seat to his left and the Doctor to his right, he raised his eyebrows in a gently interrogatory fashion.

The Doctor nodded, and continued speaking as though the question of who his interlocutor was had never been in question. “It is a result of inflammatory and showy performers, whose “patients” are often accomplices and actors.”

This time the man outright shrugged. His attention dropped back to his newspaper, whose headline read (something clever to come).

Doctor Fantastik considered him. The Doctor himself was dressed in an out of heels velvet coat, of a style popular a decade or so ago. Although in neat repair, the hems were worn and shabby, and a darn spidered its way up one side. He wore ivory-framed spectacles that glinted in the tavern’s light. Like his vestments, his hair was neatly kept but had seen better days. Spots of wear shone on his scalp, uncloaked by the wisps of white hair that remained.

He seemed about to speak when his attention was caught by a young woman entering. He watched as she paused to cast an appraising glance over the clientele, which was sparse for an afternoon in Tabat, when most took to tea-shops and taverns to drink the spiced fish-tea that was the city’s favorite drink. Doctor Fantastik was not himself drinking such a thing; rather a mug of lemon and water sat before him as she picked her way across the uneven planking of the floor to sit down on his right side.

The newspaper man at first barely spared her a glance, but then he took her in more fully and began stealing admiring looks. She was worthy of such, her skin as fashionably pale as that of any upper-class maiden, her hair immaculate and well-brushed, shining as it fell over her slightly antiquated but quality silk clothes. Her doe-soft eyes were dark and lustrous, but they did not return the newspaper reader’s glance, but rather remained fixed upon Doctor Fantastik.

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One of the things that sometimes comes up when talking to new writers is the question, “How do I acquire a mentor?” There’s a glazed and desperate look in the eyes of each querier, and sometimes a bit of professional jealousy, because occasionally we see people in positions where we’re not convinced they really should be, and an easy explanation is that a mentor’s personal pull helped get them there.

Well, maybe. But I don’t know that the kind of mentor people are envisioning really happens that often. They’re thinking of a wise, kindly figure who will guide their career through writing advice, secure them spots in anthologies and magazines, and make sure they appear on award ballots.

That’s pretty goddamn rare, and sometimes what one is attributing to the influence of a mentor is actually the writer’s hard work and talent for networking. And networking helps a lot — but it can’t substitute for enough skill to write at the professional level, at least in my opinion.

I do have people who have helped me along, and they’ve been great. I don’t think of any of them in this light, though. They’re people I can go to for the occasional sanity check or word of encouragement, sure. But are they out there sedulously working away on my behalf? No. They have their own careers to build, their own projects to promote, their own words to write.

You can’t just wait for a mentor to arrive. Or even just mail someone and say, “I want you to be my mentor.” You need to a) be writing and b) be getting yourself out there through publications, participation in social networks and message boards, and working with other people. One of the most valuable things I did for myself was agreeing to help edit Fantasy Magazine. Beside teaching me a ton, it brought me in contact with a number of people. I even got to hold a manuscript from Tanith Lee in my hands and email her how excited I was to be publishing something from her.

And take classes, for Pete’s sake. That’s one of the best ways to not just improve your craft, but do a little networking on the side. I tell my students to let me know when they publish something so I can spread it on social networks, although that’s a somewhat self-serving act – it helps me publicize my classes when I’m able to point to people getting published and take some smidgen of unwonted credit for it. 😉

Let’s say you do find a writer who’s further along in their career path than you are, and who seems to be amenable to providing you some guidance. What then? Well, be a good mentee and help them help you. Here are my suggestions for doing so.

• Be proactive. Don’t limply wait for a mentor to lift you up. A mentor is not an excuse to stop working on your own behalf. Do shit. Look for opportunities to get your name out there, just as you would without a mentor.
• Be responsive. Answer e-mails. Let them know what you’re up to. Don’t be one of those flakey writers who vanish for months and then reappear with daisies in their hair, acting as though they had never been gone. Don’t let suggestions slide by without acknowledgement.
• Be appreciative. Say thank you or acknowledge their efforts in other ways. They don’t have a quota of people they need to help each month. Every minute spent helping you is being taken from their own store of work time, and for all of us, that’s a valuable commodity.
• Listen. If your mentor suggests something, either do it or tell them why you’re not (and have a good rationale for that). (See also: Be responsive.)
• Be pleasant to work with. Save the cynical or curmudgeonly attitude for elsewhere, and don’t be a sad sack bemoaning your own lack of talent just so you can evoke reassurances. Positivity, cheerfulness, and good humor make for someone who’s pleasant to help – negativity, gloom, and humorlessness make it a discouraging, uphill battle.
• Be a good sport. A mentor has their own life. And they may have other people they’re helping. In fact, if they’re helping you, they probably do. Don’t act like a jealous sibling if they’re paying attention to someone else.
• Be a good citizen. It’s never too early to start paying it forward, to helping other new writers publicize their work. Volunteer to read slush or help staff tables at a convention. One of the best ways to promote yourself is by promoting other people, even though that may seem paradoxical.

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