Writing Wrongs

August 16, 2006

Inspired by Marianne�s post today, I�m trying to put some thoughts together about the joy vs. the business side of writing. Marianne writes:

I've lost much of the love of writing because I've tried to make a business of it. Sitting down with my stories is more of a chore that a joy. I worry so much about motivation and no info-dumps and can't head hop and... and... and...

A while ago, I went through a very rough time with my writing. Rough as in �burn all the manuscripts, delete and reformat the hard drive, and call it done� rough. Because really, how many more unmarketable manuscripts could I write? Or at least write and keep my sanity.

But I wasn�t sure I could stop writing and keep my sanity. Talk about a catch-22.

And I wish I could articulate how I got from abject misery to being pretty damn happy about being an unpublished novelist (as one of my noodler sisters says, it�s a dirty job, but someone�s got to do it).

First thing I did was try to tune out all the static. And there�s a lot of static. Some days this is a fulltime job. But I figured that after ten years, I knew enough about craft to write sentences and there was nothing on any of these writing sites I needed to know right now. If it was important, I�d hear the buzz eventually.

Second, I stopped listening to most of my peers offering advice. This sounds harsh, but I�m not talking about thoughtful feedback or editorial direction. I�m talking about people who don�t know the difference between a gerund and a past participle, but gosh, they sure do know that all -ing words are bad.

Same goes for those same peers who claim to know the industry, who apply writing �rules� that might (and I stress �might�) be relevant to one or two category lines at Harlequin to all genres.

And please, stop telling me what agents and editors want when 1) you aren�t published, and 2) you don�t have an agent. You don�t know, any more than I do, what someone in NYC wants on any particular day at any particular hour. Unless you�re clairvoyant, in which case, why aren�t you published?

Okay, the rant section of this entry is over. I�m convinced the only way to survive as an unpublished novelist is to concentrate on those things you can control. Here�s some of mine:

The Craft. I will never understand the mindset that believes if you don�t follow the herd, you�re somehow not interested in developing your craft (or acting like a business professional, but I�ve done that rant).

I got burnt out on courses, and short of going for an MFA (have you seen the price tags on those? Ouch.), I wasn�t sure what to do. So I developed my own course of study. What did I need to work on? What did I want to learn? I�ve had a ton of fun this year because I charted my own course.

The Writing. Scary, but true. You own it. It�s yours, baby. But one thing is clear. You can�t judge it by your mood while writing. You can�t judge it while it�s still hot. Let it cool off before you switch to editing mode.

The Waiting. Wait. Breathe in, and out again. Don�t be in a rush to please and publish. It seems like it�s a race, she with the first contract wins. I can say now, with all honesty, that I�m glad I haven�t sold yet. I think I�d be severely stressed, if not miserable.

I don�t want to be miserable. I�d rather take my time and be proud of what eventually does get publish. Some people might say I�m simply not driven enough to be published. Frankly, I�d say I�m not driven enough to compromise.

Oh, and as a bonus? Doing your own thing really pisses people off. I don�t know why this is, but it�s true. Because we�re not following the �rules?� Honey, there are no rules. There�s no one class, one craft book, one piece of advice that will magically open the portal to publishing. Writing is a journey, not a destination. And if you don�t like the view along the road, you probably won�t be happy once you arrive.

Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 12:01 p.m.

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