A. ZAYKOVA

A version of this text originally appeared in my Newsletter which you can subscribe to here via this link.

I don’t know how to say it without coming across as narcissistic but I’ve enjoyed the attention Galaxy Grifter got in it’s opening weeks, including the mentions in trade publication lists, interview requests, Amazon best seller lists within humorous sci-fi and space opera categories. It may be small by some comparisons, but it’s more than I ever had, and I’m here for it.

I know we get told to create for ourselves and not base our worth on external validation, but I attended a design conference last year and one of the presenters spoke about the industry needing to do better to acknowledge the individual creatives behind the work. She said “creativity thrives on recognition” and without it, people lose motivation and burn out. I wrote it down and have been thinking about it ever since.

It may sound like a contradiction at first, but humans are complex, contradictory and nuanced creatures. We can hold both truths—create for ourselves and yearn to belong, to be celebrated.

I wrote Galaxy Grifter for myself first and foremost, with the tropes I loved but also with the elements I felt I was missing as a reader. That’s why it defies some readers’ expectations, especially in terms of not having a clean redemption arc or softness within its central relationship.

I wrote it that way because I longed for the sharper edges and, at times, felt… unmet in my emotional needs, especially when it comes to romantic representations.

But here’s the thing—the more personal the work, the harder the external recognition hits. Rejections of personal work are less about your ego taking a hit, and more about a feeling of existential loneliness, evidence that the things that matter to you don’t matter to others. This made it very difficult for me to work on the sequel before I got my book deal. I kept writing short stories, sure, but putting in the work for another novel without knowing if it will land felt heavy.

Whereas the mentions in trad publications suggest that this thing I felt was missing, that used to only exist in my head and heart, is now part of the wider literary/cultural discourse. It’s visible for people to interact with and respond to. Some readers embrace it, others push back on the ways it doesn’t conform. And while the negative reviews sting, that’s exactly how new meaning gets made. And isn’t that how we carve out space for ourselves in the world? For ourselves, and for others with sharper edges… And that’s very motivating.

So, creativity thriving on recognition is not about creating for others, it’s about knowing that your art, and by extension, you, have a place in the ecosystem, no matter how imperfect. And that is a very human desire. As I read elsewhere “You can’t self-love your way out of the need for connection.” So, we create for ourselves, and hope it will land with others, which in turn gives us fuel to create again.