Suzane Smith, blogger on a college site, sent me a link to a post in case I was interested enough to mention it on my blog. The post is Famously Reclusive Authors and Artists. (I checked but I'm not on there-- guess I'm not reclusive enough, or famous enough.)
In this time of author forced-promotion-to-sell-their-books, it's fascinating to read about J.D. Salinger, Harper Lee, Cormac McCarthy and others who stay hidden, refuse to do interviews, speeches, or signings. And of course there's Emily Dickinson, but she wasn't famous for her poetry until after her death. These others all had acclaim in their lifetime, and turned their backs on it.
Can you imagine a young up-and-coming, newly contracted author telling the publisher, "Oh, sorry. I don't do appearances. If Oprah calls, tell her to get someone else."
Writers tend to be reclusive by nature, and promoting ourselves can push us way beyond our comfort zones. But in today's writing world, getting out there is part of the job whether we like it or not. At least until we're famous enough to hide away on our farm in Connecticut.
Where would you hide away if you could? Or would you even want to? Honestly? Yes, I would. I would be Emily Dickinson, if I could get away with it. But I can't. So instead I'm Xena.