Post-Publication Depression? The Months after a Book Release
The feeling took hold in slow small increments.
The First Reading of Finding Felicity with author Monica Marlowe
It was inexplicable.
Unfamiliar.
An odd combination of melancholy and listlessness, a howl released into the night sky except echoing inward.
My debut novel had been released in August and the excitement I felt at its release was euphoric. I was so lucky to be published and learning the ropes as a new author was exhilarating.
But as summer moved into fall and winter, the fever pitch took on colder pall.
What was the feeling? The winter blahs? The holiday blues?
Monica Marlowe on NBC 17 TV
I was not usually prone to these seasonal afflictions and was at a loss to pinpoint the exact nature of what I was experiencing. As a psychology major, I always felt better when I could label a feeling, particularly the more shadowy ones, as if naming the darkness could shed some light. I wondered, could it be post-publication depression?
One tweet later, to my delight (!) and relief, the answer was, yes! My experience was common to authors who had published a book. I was not alone.
And yet I wonder if it is so simple. There were many surprises after the release of Finding Felicity. Some were pleasing and others … not so much.
The biggest surprise was how my book was received by my friends and acquaintances. People I barely knew came forward and purchased copies of my book. One, in particular, ordered 10 copies to give to his wife and daughters and sisters and daughters-in-law. To my delight, he asked me to sign each one.
Yet others, people I had known for years, have still not read Finding Felicity. Or if they have, they have not yet told me. One person I have known for many years, lunched with, had dinner with, even done business with, who had said she “couldn’t wait” to read it, recently let me know she still has not had the time.
Finding Felicity by Monica Marlow
Every one of us is busy, and how we spend our time reflects our deepest values. Setting aside a few hours to read a book that has been called “a fine and entertaining read” does not seem so much to ask of a friend. It would have meant the world to me to hear her thoughts. I am saddened to find out that she was not genuinely motivated to read my book, to support my first foray into the publishing world.
Was the depth of this disappointment I was feeling post-publication depression? Or something more? Does reading my book draw a line in the sand between friends who were part of my pre-author life, and those who will be my friends now that I’m an author? Is it fair to expect our friends to read our books? And what if we write more than one, which I plan to do?
Of course I should be focusing on the many wonderful comments and reviews I have received, and for them I am deeply grateful. Yet some disappointment lingers.
As to the post-publication depression? Something tells me the cure is to keep writing and be published all over again.
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Category: Contemporary Women Writers, On Publishing, US American Women Writers
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- How It Feels To Be An Author | WriteGear Discoveries | July 21, 2015
Oh my gosh! I’m sooo relieved to have found this article. I was beginning to think I’m suffering under some sudden depressions. Me? Miss happy optimist? I love labels. And I’m so glad my low spirits now have an official name – PPD. Wow… I feel better already. 🙂 Doesn’t every doctor say we need to know what is ailing you before we can cure it. I hope your next post is the cure!
I am a first-novel just-published author, and a psychologist by trade and, like Monica, I was wondering what this feeling was. Then it struck me – PPD! I Googled it and found validation. Sob, Sob … thankyou, thankyou! It all makes sense now. Friends who “forgot” to read my manuscript (the psychodynamics of that deserve a whole section to themselves). The editor with whom I had lots of e-chats during a year of sometimes anguished editing, is now onto the next imminent book launch and I feel – I can hardly bear to admit this – abandoned. Reading over my book, after having proof-read it about 100 times, it starts to look as boring as bat droppings and I can’t believe anyone will ever want to read it. And losing this family of characters which became so real that I cried along with the heroine when she parted from her lover. Man, this stuff should be included in the diagnostic manuals – I’m sure some drug company will want to make a suitably addictive medication to address the problem. However, until then I’m going to take on board some hints I’ve picked up here:
• Write another book
• Remember that “nobody wants to read your s**t” – it saves unrealistic expectations of friends
• The reader has the gift of life
• My editor is not my friend – the only thing we have in common is my book
Cheers and best of luck to you all.
Annie, thank you.
I realised i’d been feeling PPB (Blues)for while but didn’t recognise it. I was addicted to the thrill of it and now it’s all so quiet and boring. And yes, i felt abandoned too when the publisher moved onto the next book and i’m left there clicking ‘send and receive’ in the hope another email might come through from her.
LOL – it’s so funny to know what it is now…. time get writing again!
I published my first book–with a big house, to fine reviews–a month after 9/11/01. Not a great time for any book, but deadly for a fiction collection written by a female VN vet that was determinedly anti-blind-patriotism.
This year, I published my second book–tiny house, mostly self, no fanfare.
That’s 12 years between, during which the publishing world went utterly haywire.
I was traumatized by my book’s lack of Best-Sellerdom, to say the least. Plus, my agent could find no takers for my second book/first novel–I suspect that the fact that I didn’t earn out my big-house advance made me a “bad risk” in a very uncertain world for literature in general and First Novels in particular.
This publication, the current little book of humor essays, has been a learning experience. It’s also taught me to mind my expecttations. Am I in full post-partum mode? Hell yeah! Dies it cut me to the heart like the fate of my first book?
No.
Maybe it’s because I’m older now, or because I republished the first, when I got my rights back three years ago, and even though the new paperback reprint is languishing, the eBook–which I begged both earlier publishers to do, in vain (it was sold to a university press by the big house-)–s earning me a little money here and there, which is refreshing, since all earlier profits went toward that advance.
Mostly, though, this new little book, unrelated to the first, is MINE. No rush to market it; nobody’s imposed deadlines to meet. Profit, if it comes, is mine; if it fails, I won’t be professionally tarred and feathered for it.
So…my post-partum blues is mitigated somewhat by the fact that this is my Menopause Baby. Will others follow? Maybe; maybe not. The choice is mine, as is the challenge. I’m taking my time, not seeking counseling quite yet…
I’m in the black spot between getting the deal and seeing the book come out. But this reminds me of the other bit of the flump which is all the friends who say “Oh, you have to let me read that!” and I think “You mean that manuscript I sent you to get some feedback on and you didn’t read but which I ploughed on through editing and rewriting without your help?”
And then I remember an article by Steven Pressfield about the most important writing lesson he ever learned which he’s very blunt about: “Nobody wants to read your sh*t”. And I stop myself voicing the thought aloud and just say “Sure when it’s out, buy a copy.” knowing they mostly won’t because…nobody wants to read my sh*t.
This is the first time I have encountered this post partum depression acknowledgement from others and it offers a mighty comfort. I was beginning to accuse myself of ingratitude for the few, but extraordinary, supporters my incipiently to be published book has found. None are friends, or were even known beforehand.
Truth is, unlike a new baby, who will crawl and undoubtedly walk, our beloved book emerges and whether it will take a breath at all is not in our gift, smack it as hard as we might. I truly have no idea whether what I have created is any good at all, unless it is good for a reader. They have the gift of life, not us. Depression is also the impotence of finding that out, but it only happens after all that creative pushing.
What many writers completely fail to grasp when they’re starting out is that publishing your book is not the END of a journey. It’s a beginning.
And no, that doesn’t really change with every book thereafter. I’ve had – what – more than a dozen published now – Harper Collins, indie, all across the board – and there’s always a little bit of the blahs afterwards (it’s DONE now, what do I do now…?) until the next book bites and I go on with life and with writing.
In the end, all we can do is keep on keeping on, really, and hope for the best…
It seems like every publication is a learning experience of things we would do differently, better, without. Something about the solitary nature of writing creates this fishbowl existence from composition to post-publication. For all of that, some things we just can never put into words. That span after a book comes out is one of them.
Cheers to you and deep congratulation!
Thanks, everyone, for all your comforting encouraging and hopeful comments. I guess all I could add was that I took my one particular friend at her word – that she “can’t wait” to read Finding Felicity – and that is what set up my expectation that she would read it, and then made it particularly painful when she didn’t. It’s important to me that people I consider my friends honor their word.
I’m moving on to write a memoir next … thinking that I’ll need thicker skin for that! 🙂 I am grateful for this experience. Margaret, I agree … forewarned is forearmed!
Thanks for the warning about this, Monica. My first book comes out in October and I figure forewarned is fore-armed. Hopefully, your post-publication depression is much like post-partum depression – just a passing phase that heralds much better times.
But I have to mention – reading a book is such a personal thing, I will not be offended if someone close doesn’t read my book. (I am still wondering if even my husband and kids will read it. I mean they already know all about the topic from all our discussions, and we all have such intense demands on our time.) Some people buy books, music, videos, whatever because they sound real compelling at the time, but then other priorities prevent them from making the time to use them. Under no circumstances would I draw a line in the sand dividing friends up based on whether they have read my book. To me that would feel like I was putting expectations on the friendship.
I completely understand how you feel, Monica. When my first two books were published I was ready to conquer the world, but I soon realized the world was a place far, far away. I did the best I could with marketing, and yet I did not reach as far as I had hoped. Like you, I received many notes of appreciation from complete strangers and too few of them were from people close to me. I think that was the reason why I retreated for a couple of years. I continued writing in the shadows, but I wasn’t ready to go through the whole emotional process once again. Finally, I shook myself out of it and penned a new novel which will release, hopefully, by the end of this month. Will things be different this time? I certainly hope so. With more experience at my disposal, I am ready to tackle things a little differently now and to be hopeful once again. 🙂
Monica,
I understand well the feelings of disappointment that can arise at the varied responses one receives upon the publication of a book. The responses are very unpredictable. Some good friends gobble up one’s work and some never read it. I guess I’ve decided that friendship shouldn’t depend on a friend’s reading my work. Friendship is about something else, and such expectations are a recipe for upset, so I try not to have them. I am very often guilty of not reading books recommended by others, and so many things get in the way of my best intentions and wishes. Some of the things I most want to do, I never get to! The one thing I do wish of my friends is that they BUY the book. I don’t expect them to read it, but I’d ideally like that show of support. I don’t really have the answer to the disappointment, but this is one perspective I have come to have–to protect my friendships and my own feelings.
And yes–the most important thing is to savor the support you do get–from whatever quarter. I find it so amazing to receive a note about a book I’ve written from someone I don’t know. In this day and age, if anyone has time to read a book, it’s a miracle, and if they’ve taken the time to tell you they’ve enjoyed your words, it’s astounding! I say relish the connections that come out of the blue, and treasure your friendships too.
Absolutely: the answer is to scurry back to the desk. Writing is the great salve–and such a deep pleasure.
Have fun with your new book!
Best Wishes,
Sara
Know how you feel, Monica. I got the blues when it came to letting my book leave my computer. For so long I’d been looking forward to having it completed, then when I had finished I couldn’t leave it. I wanted to keep revisiting the final scene, to spend a little bit longer with my characters. I wrote more pieces about what they might have done afterwards, none of which belonged in the book and I excised them as soon as I wrote them. It took about a week for me to be able to stop opening the file. I guess the book had taken so much out of me that I needed to keep visiting it to let go.