When French author Philippe Aziz sat down to write his four-volume series "Doctors of Death" in the 1970s, he faced a challenge that would daunt even the most seasoned writer: how do you document humanity's descent into medical barbarism without losing your reader—or your own sanity—in the process?

Picture this: It's 6 AM and you're reaching for your phone before your feet hit the floor. Instagram story posted? Check. Twitter engagement? Better respond to those mentions. Email newsletter draft? Still sitting in your inbox, taunting you. And you haven't even had coffee yet. You mentally run through today's writing goals while brushing your teeth, calculating whether you can squeeze in 2,000 words between your day job and that book marketing webinar you signed up for. Again. Sound familiar?

Picture this:

You've just received your first one-star review.

Your stomach drops as you read the harsh words criticizing everything from your plot holes to your character development.

You screenshot it and immediately send it to your critique partner, your spouse, your writing group.

You spend the next three hours crafting the perfect response in your head—one that explains your artistic choices, defends your characters, and maybe even educates this clearly misguided reader about what good literature actually looks like.

The parallels between Kimmerer's serviceberry and the author community are striking—and they point toward a more sustainable and fulfilling way of supporting creative work.