Consumer vs. Producer...Thoughts on Legacy

What do you want out of life?

I've thought about this since I've undergone surgery to give myself the final kick-in-the-arse to lose my excess weight. If I'm going to live longer, shouldn't I have a good reason for it?

I did it in part because I have a young son and realized that as the comorbidities...diabetes, apnea, etc...mounted on my list of ailments then the odds of me living long enough to embarrass him in front of a potential wife were growing shorter. He's not yet in kindergarten and my list of issues from the doctor's visits were getting as long as he is tall.

But living just to hopefully see something eighteen years down the road isn't much of a good reason to live in itself, I think. Stress from work makes those 18 years...if I stay with that job...a very good reason to just allow my body to degenerate into a pile of convulsing bubbles of angst.

I decided that I wanted to leave a mark on the world. As an individual chances are I won't make a huge change. The vast majority of people don't. They live, they sweat, they toil, they die, and if they have children, they pass on genes to another generation and hopefully they'll be remembered for the next two or three generations in some way by their family.

I decided I wanted more than that. I had a child. He might remember me as an important influence on his life. Hopefully. The stepdaughter...she's a teenager. I don't know if she'd acknowledge my existence unless it suits something she needs. I'm told it's a teenager thing.

So how could I make some kind of footprint out there?

I started this blog initially as a record of the surgery. It's become kind of a sanitized (read: cleaned up...I constantly question my sanity) version of some of my views and issues in life. I figured my little dude, my wife, and perhaps even the teenager could have something to look back on and think about as being an extension of me.

Aside-I'll admit that part of me is saddened that a teenager that can sit and read an entire Twilight novel in the span of five hours would rather play an online video game for several hours than take three minutes a day to read my own little ramblings on the web...but again...guess that's a teenager thing. I hope.

I also started journaling at the behest of my insurance-mandated-for-surgery psychologist. I'm still surprised at the stack of papers pouring from the printer when I am prepping for another visit. My next printer will need to handle double-sided printing, and at a minimum I'm going to need more binders to hold them all soon.

I decided that I wanted to try my hand at one of two things (since I didn't think I'd be good at trying both at once): writing a novel, or writing software.

The software would be a challenge because I haven't programmed, really, since college. I'm in my early thirties now. I would dream of working in an environment like Fog Creek Software (if you haven't looked up how Spolsky treats his programmers...OH...MY...GOD...HIS company is a model of respect towards employees. It is a true dream job.) A true dream come true would be to START a company with a good software product. Work from home, distribute over the web...hmm...warm dreams.

The novel is a challenge because...well, face the reality. I don't have an English degree. You toil and toil for months writing the draft, then editing, and editing again, and perhaps again, then shopping for an agent, then finding a publisher (if you ever find an agent), then a year or two later you might be a published author and all you have to show for it is a piddly advance and if you have poor sales you may not see that publisher again. Ouch. And at any stage that career path can be derailed. Most authors don't quit their day jobs. Not to mention that America is largely illiterate; people don't read for leisure anymore (on average). The publishing industry isn't handing out sweet deals to unknowns anymore; the bubble there burst. If you see a "big thing" on the shelves like vampire stories have been (thanks a lot, Twilight) then decide to write the next big vampire novel, guess what? Unless you're an established author with a fast track into the publishing line, when your novel comes out everything will be mummies. You can't get a novel churned out quickly enough to hit the current wave of popularity.

Most novel writers never make it big. They're lucky to make a living.

I turned this over in my head. I decided that I really had the least to lose in trying to write a novel. I am inspired by the likes of Scott Sigler (who worked for 15 freakin' years before throwing in the towel and deciding to podcast his novels for free...leading to an actual publishing contract. Finally!) and Mur Lafferty (who also got a publishing contract after working her butt off on projects like I Should Be Writing and her own novels being released in podcast form) and Paula B. with her podcast The Writing Show, giving insights on the publishing and writing industries.

I didn't mention the worst part of taking this path. I fully realize that I'm working about an hour or more a day on a story that may never sell and will get rejected. When you work on something that could be about 100,000 words (mine's currently at 40,000 as a first draft, and this post is appearing several weeks after I'm prepping this posting) along with the work it takes to edit and polish the manuscript, those rejection slips from agents and publishers is going to hurt.

Having a story in your head and thinking that you have what it takes to write a great novel is one thing. In your head you can do anything. But to actually try...and fail...that's tough. I am essentially making the conscious choice to invest months of my time into something that may do little more than confirm that I'm going to fail.

Ouch!

But I'm producing something. (Bet you were wondering when I'd get to the point, eh?)

I'm working on a legacy. I see teenagers who spend most of their time texting, playing games, and watching TV. The big thing in schools now is creating a portfolio of work; very rarely do I see anything that they produce willingly on their own. Their portfolio is filled with assignments, things that curriculum dictates they work on so they'll have something to show later on. Nothing with their heart or passion defining some part of themselves in the process.

I am producing something that I wished I had growing up. I know very little about my parents as they grew up. Their memories now are selective. I have things in my journal that hopefully will only be read when I'm too far senile to care what others close to me hold as an opinion. But it's there.

I want to have things for my kids to refer to later on and know this is what Dad was like. Really. Well, not the incident involving jello wrestling during the fraternity/sorority mixer. But what is in that journal and is in this blog is me put into a more lasting form for posterity.

If I do through some miracle happen to get published as a novelist, or (dare I say it?) become successful enough to become a full-time writer, I'll be listed in the Library of Congress and available in bookstores for my children to be able to point and say, "That's your grandfather, son!"

It makes me sad sometimes. I look around and wonder if other people ever think about leaving a legacy behind. I see them more concerned about fashion or reality TV shows than thinking about trying to make a little movie for fun, or blogging their thoughts for the world, or creating artwork that even if it only makes it onto the walls of the bedroom is still something that can be a reminder that "I was here. I mattered. I made that."

"But what about sites like YouTube? Or Facebook?"

I suppose that at the most base level those are examples of producing material. But I don't see it necessarily as that.

The barriers to entry for things like podcasting, video production and blogging have never been lower. Never. You can get a cheap camera for $200 bucks that fits in your pocket. You can get a computer for $500 on which to edit the videos, and an account on YouTube to upload your resulting masterpiece for free.

The difference in my view is that there's a difference between some tweener capturing ten seconds of their friend falling on her giggly ass or adding the three hundredth lipsync of the latest music abomination on the radio to YouTube and finding something that took time and care to produce like this trailer for Scott Sigler's novel Contagious.

Basically I see a producer as someone creating something of pride; it is a work that they have put a part of themselves into as a way of putting the best representation of their skills forward.

This blog isn't exactly the top-notch in grammar or structure. Much of it is just rambling from a guy trying not to be fat. But it is honest. It is a facet of insight into a part of me. The same goes for the journal. The novel is a story that I wanted to tell. Keeping up with the journal, the blog, the novel, and my job right now fills most of my time, so I don't have as much to try my hand at making videos, or doing theater work, or polishing my programming skills or working on a podcast.

But I am producing.

Perhaps I'm just fixated on the wrong goals in life. I get depressed watching others doing things that in a day or two will likely mean nothing, leaving behind nothing as a legacy. Maybe that suits them so it isn't anything to grieve for. Maybe they're happy filling their expected roles as consumers.

What do you think? Do you have an opinion on this? Do you want to leave behind some kind of legacy and if so how?