The (CanL)It Crowd: Lindsay Wong

Here’s something I don’t talk about enough (at least not publicly) in all my chipper championing of CanLit books and authors: the resentment I can sometimes feel. I put a lot of love and energy into uplifting the books of others. I do a lot for free, and I do it for the joy of reading and books. Often, I don’t have personal relationships with the authors whose books I review or platform: I am just really excited about something I read and want to share this enthusiasm. I don’t expect anything in return. My admiration is not transactional.

But.

I’ve spent years building my community—a community of people who enjoy my bookish enthusiasm and largely unrepentant tendency to overshare about pretty much everything; a community who I get as much from as I give; a community where I feel safe and respected—and I admit I get cheesed off when I am approached by some writers who want to use me as a springboard to skip doing the hard work for themselves. And it’s not only hard work, but personalized work: no one can create your community for you, and while I am always glad to meet new people and have and will continue to be a proud mentor and believer in genuine radical reciprocity, I am not so thrilled to feel used.

There’s an etiquette to any community, and CanLit is no exception. This is why, in this (CanL)It Crowd installment, I am delighted to welcome critically acclaimed author, Lindsay Wong. Lindsay speaks frankly and movingly about resentment and saying no; about learning manners and being respectful. When I read Lindsay’s contribution to this series, I felt elation and solidarity: Lindsay’s sentiments echo many of my own. Granted, she’s expressed them far more evenly than I could have.

The (CanL)It Crowd with Lindsay Wong


I Hate Saying No: On the transactional nature of being a writer in CanLit

Being a human being is not a natural inclination for me (read my first book: The Woo-Woo for more information.) I had to learn and hone empathy by observing, studying, and practicing based on an unconventional upbringing. Over the years, I have copied models of kindness, reciprocity and empathy and I think I can safely pass as a so-so person in the world. I’m still a far better writer than I am a friend, and sometimes when I think about pushing a neighbor or colleague down the stairs, I tell myself: Wait! You love your job and apartment too much. It’s not worth the temporary moment of satisfaction!

In other words, I work really fucking hard to control my meanness. 

It’s no secret that this often entails me scream-crying into my pillow, keeping detailed spreadsheets of my multi-grudges and petty resentments, so I can succeed in being an employed person. It is a personable act I’ve finely tuned, but sometimes, when new or emerging writers poke me, I want to lash out. It wasn’t always the case. Since my debut in 2018, I have said “yes” so many times against my better judgment, even when I knew I was being used. This is partly because I wanted to prove that I was capable of being human, of being valued by my literary peers.

Sadly, the writing world/CanLit (I hesitate to say “community” because I’m cantankerous these days) can often feel transactional, where relationships are reduced to professional favors. Manners are forgotten, and “friendship” is only as good as blurb-potential.

I can’t remember the last time a new writer hasn’t DMed or emailed for a friendly coffee, which suddenly turns into “Can you look over my query/synopsis/manuscript? Who is your publicist?”)

(Sorry, can you tell I’m a bit resentful? In fact, I’ve gritted my teeth so often these past months that my TMJ acts up.)

I realize that newer writers and some authors in general might not understand the unspoken “etiquette” in the professional world of authoring, so their poking is not meant to be malicious. Here are my thoughts for not becoming “a grudge rectangle” on an Excel spreadsheet (joking, but not really.)

Connections/Agents/Publishings: “Who is your agent? Who is your publisher? Can you connect us?” This puts me in a very awkward position. I don’t know your writing or if I do, I know that my agent doesn’t represent that genre, or worse, I know you are an unreliable person and I think your work is not ready for publication. The referral also makes me look like an idiot if I refer someone whose work hasn’t been refined yet.

Admittedly, I once felt guilty because a friend from my BFA program nagged me for a magazine editor’s contact to pitch. I had some success with my first book, and she hadn’t gotten an agent yet, so I made the referral, knowing she was unreliable and terrible at timelines. Needless to say, I was embarrassed when she didn’t follow through and couldn’t finish the essay that she had successfully pitched.

Favours: Informational interviews are fine. It’s okay to ask for one, but know that writers may say no due to extreme busy-ness. I don’t give informational interviews anymore because in the past, writers have turned that coffee hang-out to handing me their full manuscript (asking me to edit for free!) or wanting a connection to a publishing professional or blurb request. If you do receive an informational interview, be respectful of the writer’s time. The interview ends when the writer says it does, and it’s not an open invitation for long-term mentorship or friendship.

I’ve also had writers pretend to want to interview me for podcasts; after the interview concluded, a writer sent me his full manuscript to review, saying that I had owed him for his time spent speaking to me. In another interview, the podcast host pulled out a notebook and wanted agent connections. And then in another interview, the person asked me for career advice on being a writer and asked if I could connect her. Needless to say, these “fake” podcasts never aired.

If hiring an editor for a manuscript for an evaluation is not within your budget, there are free services to receive help (check out your local writer-in-residence programs at libraries and universities.)  

Blurb Requests: Oh, I despise asking for blurbs but I realize it’s an uncomfortable thing to do but necessary for marketing purposes. It’s a request for free labor when everyone is already tired and burnt out. If the average writer reads and blurbs 7-12 books/year, that’s a lot of unpaid labor. 

Being asked for internal blurbs and/or blurbs for online use only feels disrespectful, meaning that the blurb is only being used for their marketing team (not intended to go on the cover and inside the book.) Understandably, it’s the publisher’s decision, but if the intention is for the blurb to not even be featured on the book (maybe only on the website), it truly wastes the author’s time.

Potential blurbers, if you simply cannot write a blurb due to being overcommitted or even disliking the content/style of the book, it’s better to let the author know in advance. I rather know than wait.

DMing: Some authors hate it, and I’m one of them. Unless we’re friends in real life, send me an email if you have a question about my work or if you want me to blurb your book. The reason I hate DM-ing is that I feel forced to have an awkward conversation with you. I also don’t like to talk about my memoir or answer questions about the work because I’ve been promoting the same book since 2018. I’m pretty tired of talking about undiagnosed mental illness in Chinese families.

Bad Reviews/Rating: Don’t assume the author won’t read or see the review. Online, I often see 1 or 2 star ratings and reviews from newer/ emerging writers that I’ve mentored in the past or given additional time and energy with advice and feedback. When I receive a request for a reference letter or blurb, I Google the author in question. I want to make sure I’m not spending additional time or energy on someone who thinks I’m the worst writer of this century.

If you think so little of my work, why do you need my help? I want to ask them. Why am I writing you a reference letter for a job? Why am I recommending you for a grant?

True story: I once had an event scheduled at Indigo. When I had followed the assigned moderator on Twitter, I saw they had given my book 2 stars on their page. I emailed my publicist, who was kind enough to find me another host. As writers, we are colleagues, and as someone hosting/moderating an event, it is good manners to make a guest feel comfortable and help sell books during the event. If you decide that you must rate low, wait until the event is finished.  Will I block you afterwards? Probably. Will I wish you diarrhea on stage at your next public event? Yes. But at least the awkwardness isn’t in person.

Exaggerating your relationship with a writer: Too many newer writers claim to be besties with a writer that I know in order to gain personal access. Don’t lie. I often text the writer they are claiming to be close friends with, and my best writer-friend sends back: “Who even is this person? I have never met them before.”

It’s better to be honest than exaggerate the relationship.

Writers remember. We also talk and message each other. CanLit/the writing world is a community because it’s small. Just because we exist in this “community” together doesn’t mean anyone owes you a professional favor. It’s okay to ask, but please ask nicely. I can’t guarantee that you won’t end up as a highlighted rectangle on my or anyone's spreadsheet, but at least you had the foresight to have good manners.

I still feel guilty saying no to requests from other writers, and I hate that I feel resentful. Can we try to be kinder, more thoughtful with each other in our literary interactions? Or at least, can we please try harder to fake it?

LINDSAY WONG is the author of the critically acclaimed, award-winning, and bestselling memoir The Woo-Woo, which was a finalist for Canada Reads 2019. She has written a YA novel entitled My Summer of Love and Misfortune and a debut collection of short fiction, Tell Me Pleasant Things about Immortality, which was shortlisted for the Jim Deva Prize for Writing that Provokes. Wong holds a BFA in creative writing from the University of British Columbia and an MFA in literary nonfiction from Columbia University. She currently teaches creative writing at the University of Winnipeg. Follow her on X/Twitter @LindsayMWong, Instagram @Lindsaywong.M, or visit www.lindsaywongwriter.com.


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The (CanL)It Crowd with Patrick Connors

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The (CanL)It Crowd: Bänoo Zan