If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my relentless push to win some attention for my forthcoming book, it’s that tooting one’s horn is exhausting.
The general term for this effort is “marketing,” but that covers a lot of sins. I’m talking specifically about the work an author does to create the, ahem, illusion that she’s an expert in her field with something undeniable to share with the world.
It’s not bragging, exactly. More like begging for attention. But with dignity. Which means crafting a persona for oneself that projects a degree of authority, confidence, and articulateness.
Which in turn means manufacturing (manipulating?) the perceptions that others will have about you.
And that means that at some level, and at some point, you’d better believe in the story you tell about yourself because you’ll need to defend it—on a podcast, in an interview, or whatever attention you win. And not merely defend it, but embody it, live it. And yes, project it.
Creating the Curated “You”
I find that in doing all the “things,” I’ve created a personal mythology that works as shorthand for who I am as an author in this moment with this particular nonfiction book that’s designed to inspire others.
If the idea of making a mythology for the self feels icky (overblown, self-aggrandizing, etc.), then please think again. Because this process can have great value for the self-doubting writer (or any artist) who struggles to connect with a wider audience.
It’s taken me a while, but I’ve reluctantly come to believe in the truth of this.
A personal mythology helps you create a coherent public self that acts as a bridge between the private ‘you’ and the publicly consumable ‘you.’
I don’t mean you need to be inauthentic. In fact, a big part of my self-mythology involves a commitment to radical honesty, transparency, and vulnerability. I’m on record telling tales against myself and recounting my big failures—and doubts, of course.
All that’s faithful to who I am. I’ve elected to highlight those traits as part of the mythological profile I’m building for myself as a public-facing author.
Let’s Keep It Human, Please
Let’s pause to define what mythology is and isn’t, in this context. Put the larger-than-life Greek gods out of your mind. I’m not referring to super-powered immortal beings who manipulate nature and fate. You’re not that; neither am I! On a human scale, mythology is essentially a collection of stories about a specific person (or a culture, religion, or any group with shared beliefs).
See, wasn’t that easy to swallow?
As an author, you can curate a personal mythology that highlights the traits (stories) that serve you best, depending upon your purpose (the kind of attention you want) and the identity you choose to present. For example:
· If you seek prestige, then you’ll emphasize any and all awards and highly selective outlets where your work has been published. (Think literary writer.)
· If you value empathy, you might stress how you’ve dealt with trauma and adversity in your life. (Think memoirist.)
· If you want to be a thought leader, your story highlights deep expertise in your field. (Think nonfiction author.)
· If you want to be seen as the misunderstood genius, you’ll share the hundreds of rejections you faced before landing an agent. (Think debut writer.)
I’ve been honing my personal mythology for quite some time—long before I knew that’s what I was doing. I’m at the point now where my central myth is as comfortable as a pair of old slippers. It boils down, in part, to this:
I’m on a mission to normalize self-doubt and creativity, which grows out of my own experiences as a self-doubting artist and from conversations with artists around the world who continually question their capacity to create.
Let me be clear: a self-told myth is not a lie or any shade of untruth. It’s a deliberately curated version of something that’s very true, arguably essential, to who you are in the world.
Myth as Unifier
I would argue that crafting your personal mythology as a writer or artist is, or can be, a deeply unifying experience. Author and teacher Joseph Campbell, the master of defining mythology’s role in human culture, wrote about the power of myth to explain us to ourselves—to make meaning from the pain and strife that defines the human condition:
“Myth is a manifestation in symbolic images, in metaphorical images, of the energies of the organs of the body in conflict with each other.”
Writing, and then getting attention for what you’ve written, is hard work. Piecing together a mythology of the self helps you create a kind of communicating container for the parts of your persona you want and need to share in particular ways.
I’ll leave you with one more thought from Campbell:
“The inner world is the world of your requirements and your energies and your structure and your possibilities that meets the outer world.”
As you work on your personal mythology, please share what you come up with.
I love this.