Writing Wrongs

March 13, 2007

It didnít hit us Sunday; it didnít hit us yesterday, but man, did the time change hit us this morning. The kids were so droopy. Andrew sat there on his bed, shoes in his lap, and stared. I hope they both have a reasonable day. Makes me wish I were four and could pull out my little cot after lunch and take a nap like the Marvelous Miss B. gets to do.


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A post over on Marianneís blog inspired these somewhat sleepy thoughts about writing and publishing:

Many people (even terrific people we love) dismiss the idea of a writing apprenticeship. Because, you know, anyone can write. Right? The process of writing and rewriting doesnít make sense to them. They see the finished product on bookstore shelves, but nothing that went into turning that book into a finished product. Certainly, those words flowed from the authorís fingertips and onto the page.

Whatís that saying? Good writing looks effortless. But it isnít. Often, I think when someone witnesses that effort and doesnít see recompense they start to wonder. Why does the writer bother? Certainly if she were any good, sheíd be published by now, making more money by now, famous by now.

And so on.

Sometimes explaining how publishing works to someone unfamiliar with it doesnít work--it only makes them think youíre crazy for trying. The odds arenít very good. Neither is the pay. And even when you make it, itís not a sure thing.

They point to some ďwunderkindĒ who took the publishing world by storm. More often than not, there are several years behind all those overnight successes. Again, thatís the part most people donít see. It isnít flaunted because itís far sexier to be an overnight success.

The profession of book writing makes horse racing seem like a solid, stable business.

Or so said John Steinbeck. And that was back in the ďgood old daysĒ of publishing.

So why do it?

Thatís a topic for a whole other blog entry.

Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 11:18 a.m.

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