Seeking and searching for fame won’t yield much. We won’t be remembered, and that turns out to be good news. Who reads the great Stanley Elkin one generation after his death? Or May Sarton? Or Dawn Powell? Who was Truman’s vice president? (Alben W. Barkely.) Becoming famous is of momentary reward, and then stressfully un-important, like winning the set of steak knives in Glengarry Glen Ross.
So there’s attention, creation, love and dessert.