Writing v. cooking
5 July 2022 08:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
igenlodeIt has eventually dawned on me that at least one of the reasons why I've spent far more time in the past weeks blogging about WW2 ration cookery on a private Facebook group (and doing a good deal of associated research in attempts to answer various questions that crop up: this archive article from 1943, for example, is the most extensive summary of how the system actually *functioned* that I came across, as opposed to the various 'How We Used to Live' educational pages or reminiscent anecdotes, simply because it was written for a contemporary American audience who wanted to see how the British were doing it before embarking on their own attempt!) is because I get far more feedback and approval as a result :-(
I mean, it's partly because blogging about what I cooked each day is less *hard work* than composing fiction, and a good deal more inviting than attempting to fix the flashback problems in Ch25 of Arctic Raoul, an exercise which I have been postponing indefinitely from day to day for over a month. Any excuse for procrastination is worthwhile.
But I think there is a massive element of craving for praise -- for 'likes' and comments -- to which, to be frank, I'm pretty unaccustomed. I'm still having difficulty processing the concept that when people make remarks about 'posting research all the time' they are apparently genuinely expressing appreciation, instead of making a coded request for me to stop 'showing off'. I'm not used to my writing being considered mainstream, or my intelligence and research skills useful, or being regarded as entertaining and appreciated, as opposed to all the work I do being forever a tiny niche thing that gets hardly any recognition because it's not what people have come in search of. I'm not accustomed to being told spontaneously that my writing is good or my knowledge sought after -- and I know that is needy and unfair of me, because people do say it periodically in reviews, or in response to my critique.
I'm basically not used to being *popular*, because I never, ever have been -- and that's a very addictive drug. You can see why people will do absolutely anything for the approval of their peers.
And I don't get that buzz from writing fiction, because there is very little feedback any more. Why would you bother, if you can get far more praise for having learnt to cook on a shoestring, or for a meal that takes only an hour or so to prepare rather than weeks or months followed by almost complete silence? (I've been posting High City on a Hill to fanfiction.net, where the viewing figures are almost certainly higher -- a visible average of about 30 readers per new chapter, as opposed to 36 hits *overall* on all the chapters on AO3 during the month of June -- but I got one favourite there and one reviewer, an old friend who was the only person to review my first Raoul story on FFnet, and whom I'm afraid is at this stage simply doing so out of obligation, given that no-one else is showing any interest. Yes, I'm that insecure as a writer...)
When I'm writing fan-fiction, I'm doing so *in the knowledge* that it is extremely unlikely to attract any attention. I have no desire to go on 'living on rations' indefinitely (in fact, I am anticipating ending the experiment this Friday), but there is no denying that it has been a lot more rewarding :-(
I mean, it's partly because blogging about what I cooked each day is less *hard work* than composing fiction, and a good deal more inviting than attempting to fix the flashback problems in Ch25 of Arctic Raoul, an exercise which I have been postponing indefinitely from day to day for over a month. Any excuse for procrastination is worthwhile.
But I think there is a massive element of craving for praise -- for 'likes' and comments -- to which, to be frank, I'm pretty unaccustomed. I'm still having difficulty processing the concept that when people make remarks about 'posting research all the time' they are apparently genuinely expressing appreciation, instead of making a coded request for me to stop 'showing off'. I'm not used to my writing being considered mainstream, or my intelligence and research skills useful, or being regarded as entertaining and appreciated, as opposed to all the work I do being forever a tiny niche thing that gets hardly any recognition because it's not what people have come in search of. I'm not accustomed to being told spontaneously that my writing is good or my knowledge sought after -- and I know that is needy and unfair of me, because people do say it periodically in reviews, or in response to my critique.
I'm basically not used to being *popular*, because I never, ever have been -- and that's a very addictive drug. You can see why people will do absolutely anything for the approval of their peers.
And I don't get that buzz from writing fiction, because there is very little feedback any more. Why would you bother, if you can get far more praise for having learnt to cook on a shoestring, or for a meal that takes only an hour or so to prepare rather than weeks or months followed by almost complete silence? (I've been posting High City on a Hill to fanfiction.net, where the viewing figures are almost certainly higher -- a visible average of about 30 readers per new chapter, as opposed to 36 hits *overall* on all the chapters on AO3 during the month of June -- but I got one favourite there and one reviewer, an old friend who was the only person to review my first Raoul story on FFnet, and whom I'm afraid is at this stage simply doing so out of obligation, given that no-one else is showing any interest. Yes, I'm that insecure as a writer...)
When I'm writing fan-fiction, I'm doing so *in the knowledge* that it is extremely unlikely to attract any attention. I have no desire to go on 'living on rations' indefinitely (in fact, I am anticipating ending the experiment this Friday), but there is no denying that it has been a lot more rewarding :-(
no subject
Date: 2022-07-06 10:13 am (UTC)And thank you for that article! Being fascinated by domestic history, it's just my sort of thing. I have a couple of books of recipes from WW2 Britain, and while I don't want to eat the food, I'm fascinated by how they coped.
no subject
Date: 2022-07-06 03:59 pm (UTC)https://pure.port.ac.uk/ws/portalfiles/portal/7682863/Don_t_Blame_the_Shopkeeper_postprint.pdf
It's a report on how the Government's drive to cut down on the transport of goods -- by banning factories in the north from shipping their products down to Cornwall when there was a more local supplier available, and vice versa -- affected companies and their established products. Fox's Glacier Mints, for example, were only available in the east of England, presumably because that was where their factory was. If you lived elsewhere you would only be able to buy mints of whatever your local variety was.
And some products, such as soft drinks, margarine and cheese, were basically 'nationalised' so that there were no individual specialist brands available at all, but the whole thing was marketed and distributed under a central unified organisation -- which then of course had to promote its 'new' brand to housewives who were used to buying their preferred variety of margarine, under the conviction that anything else was inferior. (From what I've heard about the ingredients of wartime margarine -- fish oil, for example -- it probably was!)
So companies adopted various different techniques, such as continuing to advertise products that no longer existed with an apology for their non-availability, in the hopes that the fickle consumer wouldn't forget about them and continue to buy the more local product after the end of the war :-p
I knew a good deal about the general idea of rationing and coupons etc, but this element of 'zoning' of individual products was something that I had never come across.
no subject
Date: 2022-07-07 12:41 am (UTC)