A fun conversation with a bright-eyed author reminded me of our power to help ourselves. The book is just new and making its first laps around the pool of publishing. With enough gusto, and devotion, there would be an audiobook, a wonderful step to take for the book you have loved so long. “I’m always listening to something,” she said to me, and that wasn’t a reference to the latest Swiftian song. Not to say that Taylor isn’t an amazing author, but most of us practice a craft where the output is longer than 1,000 well-chosen words of an album.
The audiobook is possible for any of us who hold an investment ethos for ourselves. In the history of art and creating, there have always been patrons. They took form as doges in Venice, sometimes supported artists in high desert homes while they painted and dreamed, and now chip in contributions to land on the Special Thanks credits of movies.
Creators need support, in part because art often fights its way to the forefront of our souls. It’s easier to watch a show than listen to a book, but the way that book settles into the cracks of your heart is unmistakable. We all recommend art to our friends and lovers. I like to think that the recommendations of stories which we help create while others enjoy them — imagining things that are only in our heads — well, that kind of experience is worth the time and money it demands to create it.
My own novel has already enjoyed its patronage, in several instances. A good author client sent along a payment to support Sins of Liberty, taking Anna’s story into a world that needs hope right now. Another, long-ago a client when I wrote business stories about her exploits, hand-wrote a check and let my wife carry it to me. Just about all of those acts of patronage go toward advertising my book, in one way or another. The creative arts need patrons. You can be your own most devoted patron.
Add money, add time
As the rubber meets the road, your life as an author requires money and time. I like to say that we get confused about which of those is more precious. We all can add up the money, sure. There are ways to earn more, pursuing enterprises and winning deals and job promotions. There is always more money out there. I often have to remind myself that the sea is big, and many creatures swim there. I can catch, again and again.
The time, though, is finite for most of us. Whenever a doctor tells you about an outlook for your lifespan that includes cancer, or you just look around and see anyone taken too early into the next realm, you can see we measure our lives in weeks and months. Once you arrive at age 60, you’re spending the last 1,100 weeks of your life, according to the insurance tables. Getting toward 80 just means you’re spending your best reserves at the last.
We might all become our own best patrons, pushing our dreams and creations into the light. We hope to entertain and inspire and educate others. That has always required patronage, from da Vinci living on the resources of the Borgia family and the the Medici, to Taylor Swift and the money she received for six albums of as-yet-unwritten songs at age 15.
You can argue that Taylor had to work to get paid, but creativity always demands work. The Sistine Chapel involved some long days painting on da Vinci’s back. It only shows the point: someone had to believe in the potential for a book or an audiobook or a podcast, and sometimes that person believes by giving a gift to a creator. “Go do something good with this,” the patron says. Practice being your own patron, with money, or even more-precious time. Patrons invest in our hearts.
