If a Tree Falls in the Forest...

     ...and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? Everyone who ever took a high school biology class, or for that matter, perhaps simply a walk in the woods, has pondered this question at some point. In fact, I can remember having a number of philosophical debates on the subject, back when I was young enough to actually have the time or inclination for such conversations.
     In fact, in the midst of one such conversation, I can also recall a friend of mine throwing her hands up in the air, and saying, "of course it makes a sound! Because there's always someone there! How else would you know it fell?" At which point another friend smiled smugly and added, "ah, someone may have been there, but in order to hear it, they also had to be listening."
     It struck me the other day that this is also very true of being a writer...or the attempt to be recognized as such, I suppose; the analogy being, of course, that you (the writer) are the tree and the sound of you falling over is the novel, story, poem, etc. that you have written. And by extension, does it actually exist if no one reads it...i.e., if no one experiences it; if no one, philosophically speaking, is listening.
    Among other shocking discoveries I have made in the course of my brief literary journey is that the majority of acquaintances I understood to be readers (listeners, if you will, to keep with the analogy, that is), actually aren't. This is not to say they don't read anything at all, but that they follow a rather narrow path of selection when they do. I confess, of course, that I am much the same, in that I have my favorite authors...Anne Tyler, Richard Russo, Lisa Genova, John Grisham, etc....but I also pride myself on being able to try someone new and different once in a while; i.e., as in take the road not taken, as Robert Frost so blithely insisted we do.
      Granted, it's not always a successful path, at least as far as reading goes. Just as when one sets out on an unknown hiking trail, you never know how many obstacles there might be, or how steep or difficult the trail might become before you reach the end. On the other hand, if you don't make the trek, you might possibly never experience something truly special. Thus it is with reading; and I have now learned it may also be with writing, except as a writer, you are the trail they may or may not be willing to take, even if they are your friends and relatives, who you always thought trusted your judgment.
      Okay, my first book was not that great. I mean, I actually thought it was a good story with great characters, but it definitely needed some more careful editing in terms of style and presentation. Eventually, I did so and put out a second edition. The first edition sold better than anything I've written since; the second new and improved one, hardly at all. And with my subsequent novels, the response also dwindled. This is because at first, everyone was startled to hear I'd actually written a novel, and did so perhaps out of sheer curiosity (and even hopefully, supportiveness). But then, because the first one had flaws, no one went back to read more of what I wrote after that. Meanwhile, the next five books became progressing better works, and it's frustrating that few have dared to try more...to continue on the trail, as it were, despite minor obstacles.
       Returning to the aforementioned tree in the forest, this might be kind of like coming to a tree after it had already fallen and was lying there, beginning to decompose. In other words, the dramatic sound of it falling was past, so it now is largely ignored, when in truth, the next stage of its development (when perhaps small animals begin to inhabit its remains, or wildflowers and moss grow from its fallen trunk) is perhaps more fascinating or beautiful than the original tree was to begin with.
     Okay, I admit it, it's a stretch. But if you write, you probably get it. You are on the road to that beautiful, unexpected view, or wildflower meadow or striking waterfall...or even to the perfect sound of a tree crashing to the forest floor, but everyone else decided to turn back...or worse yet, they stopped listening. After all, with so many trees falling out there, who really has the time?