Hemingway, Fame, and Failure

The wish for fame, so illusory a thing, can kill you. Or at least, it can kill your novel.

In an essay in The Spectator in 1711, Sir Richard Steele wrote that it is "the worst way in the world to Fame, to be too anxious about it." For almost all of us who took up writing in order to be like Ernest Hemingway, this is good advice. The Hemingway goal hasn't worked in my case or, I suspect, in that of most others who have had so markedly specific an intention. Perhaps all others. This is so because such a goal has nothing to do with writing well. It has an awful lot to do with churlish envy, as well as what we know about Hemingway, that he marketed himself almost from the beginning in order to get where he got.

Perhaps his remarkable fame derives from the great interest there has always been in his adventurous life. But I think his adventures had little to do with his ability to write well, as he so often did. In his writing, he sought to please his one greatest fan, which was himself, and for this steadfastness he deserves whatever congratulation he gets.

When I began writing seriously, I had the theory that writing fiction was a public, not a private, endeavor. Because it is so intense a form of communication, it seemed foolish to me to write without the idea of getting published. Publishing with an established firm, either major or minor, was then the only way of getting your work in front of a public. So, without publishing, there was no communication, and without a public, writing to me wasn't worth doing.

But then, as now, there was a gauntlet that writers had to run, to get to the golden moment of publication by a major U.S. publisher. Like a great moat surrounding an obdurately faceless castle, the army of literary agents floats about, thick with weeds and goo. Any writer who has spent time in these waters has a library of favorite phrases that he or she has learned from agents. "Your work has significant integrity, but needs to be fleshed out a bit more." "Though excellent, it's just not right for us at this time." "You're clearly a writer with great promise, and we wish you the best in your search for representation elsewhere." "Couldn't possibly sell this in today's difficult market." And many more.

Article Author: Terence Clarke

Terence Clarke is a San Francisco novelist, journalist, and film maker who writes about the arts.

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