
In a drawer, somewhere, is the next big thing
With so many writers, so many manuscripts, and so few publishing opportunities, have some ‘should have been’ classics and masterpieces been lost? Or does talent always rise, and will it always be found?
Before I begin, I should state that I don’t think that my book falls into the category that I’ll explore below.
With odds of getting published getting longer and longer each year, it makes you wonder what possible masterpieces are being pushed into drawers to gather dust and not readers.
I can wake up in the morning and read the opening pages of a book and not be taken by it. Maybe because I’ve slept badly, the wind was howling, or I let my tea go cold. Or perhaps my mood that day doesn’t correspond with the book.
On another day, when the sun is bright, my sleep is restful, and my tea ‘just right’, I could pick up the very same book and read it differently. I could tumble into the story more easily and engage with the characters.
During my day, I have different demands. Maybe in the morning I’d be more tolerant of complexity, but by evening I’d want something easier to consume. These moments of need and varying feelings throughout the day can affect how I experience exposure to a new story.
What if the various gatekeepers that mark the milestones of getting published experience the same thing? Time-poor people who, possibly, don’t have the opportunity to reread something when they’re feeling different or their mood has changed. Or have packed diaries so busy that a grabbed moment could be influenced by the outcome of the previous meeting, train ride, or dog walk?
What if, because of these moments, gems of writing have slipped through the net? We know about the celebrated books that were rejected tens of times before they found a home, but what if other books didn’t make it? Books that could frame a childhood, mend a heart or change the way we think.
I believe that the top 0.5% of people with genuine talent will always be found. The filters, whether taste or a simple connection to stories, will separate and find them. Talent such as this will shine. It’s the next level below where there’s the possibility of classics being missed.
How could they be missed? Is it the pressure of satisfying the current trend? The chase of a commercial hit to enable the more literary explorations? Or the simple subjectivity of gatekeepers? Or, as above, simply mood?
Many who argue that the system is broken will either be those who can’t get into it or those who are being crunched by it once they’ve managed to find a way in. I’m not informed enough to judge either way, but it would be fascinating to understand more expert views.
There is also the argument that the filters that the gatekeepers operate are so well developed that seldom does anything of high quality ever get missed. The possible and potential winners are all caught, and the best talent will, therefore, always rise.
But, with fewer and fewer opportunities and more and more people offering their manuscripts, is the system still able to capture the books that we could love and cherish? Is it likely that masterpieces have been missed?
