The Cart Before the Horse - Getting it Wrong

It's difficult being a writer. It's more difficult becoming one. All too often we consider ourselves writers before we become writers.

You write  until you become a writer. You don't practice medicine and call yourself a doctor before you attend classes for umpteen years, learning under the tutelage of masters. Some will argue with me on this. "I write, therefore, I am a writer." If you need that to write, so be it. But the rest of the world isn't going to recognize you as a writer until you earn it.


A few mistakes we tend to make as pending writers:

1) Thinking of who will publish your book before it's written (or edited).

It doesn't matter where you'll publish when the words aren't dry on the page. Besides, between the time you think of the story, write it, and edit it to the point you submit it, the sources you want to submit to may have changed or disappeared....or redefined who is eligible to submit or what material they'll accept.  It's like saying you'll get a job for a certain company in a certain town before you get your degree to be eligible for the jobs they hire.

2) Adding how much you'll make before you become a professional.

The proverbial "counting the chickens before they hatch." All the eggs don't hatch, y'all. As a chicken lady, I know. All you can do here is learn to write well, then learn to write better than well, then learn to pitch, then learn to pitch better. Focus on the doing, not the end result. You cannot get there without knowing the route.

3) Tallying the readers before you write the story.

Blogging, magazines or books . . . it's all the same. You cannot tally your readers. All you can do is your best, reaching out to the world, strategically seeking pockets of people who might like your genre and story, catering to them, always being available to them. But you cannot forecast the readers. They are a fickle lot. All you can do is figure out what is your best work, then keep doing it.

4) Writing what you think will sell, instead of what heats up your passion.

 If your heart isn't in what you're doing, the product isn't magical. Readers want magic these days, because so many writers are spitting out generic knock-offs of best sellers . . . or writing what everyone else is writing.

5) Letting "what will people think" drive what you write.

If you wonder what people will think, whether you'll kick up a maelstrom of feedback because you ventured into controversial territory, and let it dictate your edits . . . or what you do not write . . . you could lose an opportunity. Instead, write what drives your heart, your soul, your own creative spirit. You may not realize it, but that spark infuses itself in your words. 

Don't get the cart before the horse. You never arrive.

Wisteria

Too bad the wisteria on my back porch won't last longer. The rain's coming and will knock the flowers off. :( pic.twitter.com/VjCzBG94Ij
— Georgeann Swiger (@GeorgeannSwiger) June 10, 2013

 Yes, wisteria can be beautiful. The vines are soft, the leaves graceful, the lavender or white flowers breathtaking as they fall like grape clusters from their branches, swaying loose in a strong breeze.

But I've spent years clearing wisteria from my yard. It's a weed. It kills trees. The roots travel underground for many yards, popping up to entwine and strangle azaleas, maples, and any other plant in its way.

The same plant. Antagonist and protagonist. Lovely yet hated. Admired. Challenging.

Either way, the impact needs to be dramatic . . . and a beauty to behold.

When a Leopard Changes her Spots - From Nonfiction to Fiction Writing

Some only know me as the author of The Carolina Slade Mystery Series.
Some only know me as the editor of FundsforWriters.com.
Some only know me as a freelance writer.

I'm happy with each,  because I know if someone loves me for one, he'll eventually find out about the others. What I want them to recognize is the fact I am a serious writer. If I've accomplished that, I'm proud as can be.

What many do not realize is that I started with fiction, couldn't sell it, and moved into nonfiction because it naturally flows from my fingers . . . and it pays more quickly. I was hell bent on being a writer, one way or another. Admittedly, though, nonfiction is easier for me. That career grew faster. Nonfiction built my platform. So when I decided to return to fiction, a very tentative, self-doubting choice, I wondered what people would think. More so, I wondered if I could write it nearly as well.

Most of all, I wondered if people would take my fiction seriously. Mystery fiction, you see, is my first love.

So when I received this email from Patricia Fry, I just smiled. I wasn't the only one. See . . . I've known Patricia Fry for years . . . online. We've never met, but we've followed each others reputations and advances. We're very close to being like souls. She's made  her career with her consulting, ebooks, teachings and speaking about freelancing. She's Executive Director of SPAWN (Small Publishers, Artists and Writers Network). Yep, we've walked a very parallel path. And she had a burning desire to write fiction, too.

"You were my inspiration, you know. I was on the verge of writing a novel when I heard that you had been writing one. I have 3 written and ready to go now. Yesterday, the first one went live at Amazon as a Kindle book. Catnapped (A Klepto Cat Mystery) . I read your first book--have your second one on my Kindle as my next reading project. And I want to thank you for the inspiration. I mean, I was a bit timid about trying to write a story after so many, many years writing nothing but nonfiction. Sure have enjoyed the process, though. Thanks again for leading the way. I hope you are still enjoying the process. ~Patricia"

It took me years to realize that every word I wrote made me a better writer. We don't have to just write fiction or just write nonfiction. The simple act of using the best words in the best order for the most graphic communication, is applicable to all types of writing. I put my fiction aside for four years before picking it back up. Amazingly, I wrote fiction must better, when I hadn't written a word of it over that long four years. Instead, I'd written magazine features, essays, editorials,blog posts, and opinionated pieces. Still . . . when I picked up my pen and attempted make-believe, it worked. Unbeknownst to me, I'd evolved anyway, and so had my fiction.

Something tells me that Patricia's did, too.

The Greatest Fan

In the early days of writing, writers spin stories for themselves. They're testing themselves against their own minds, to see if they can actually do this story-telling thing. They experience brief moments of euphoria as they hammer out a beautiful paragraph or a twist that sends a chill even through its creator. That's when the itch takes root. The better those tiny moments, the more those capillary roots grow from the writer to the page, the more a writer turns an itch into a passion.

Then come the days when the writing doesn't sing so well. The sentences aren't so pretty--the twists too common. Sometimes those days turn into weeks. The writer gets angry, disappointed, depressed. He turns to talking about writing instead of doing the deed itself. And sometimes he convinces himself that's the same thing as writing the stories.

He morphs into a writing groupie instead of fighting to be the writer.

A writer has to be his best fan, the loudest cheerleader in his own head.

A writer has to think he has the potential to be good...even great. He has to be his own drill instructor, beating himself up over the phrases, the tenses, the voices. He has to remind himself that words are powerful, and it's important to find the right ones. He has to enforce himself when he falters, nudging his ego, reminding the writer inside that he has skill, rough as it may be, and that it takes time, practice, and exercise to make those writing muscles toned and productive.

He has to show up to work whether he's happy or down, whether there's a spark of an idea or his mind is cold, damp, and dark. Because the best sense of accomplishment comes from walking into that dead, smutty, cheerless environment and cleaning out the cobwebs. Inch by inch, the writer clears out the dust, wiping away the smudge, airing out the room. After a long rehab, spurred only by the visions in his head of what could possibly be, he begins to see what could be charming . . . even handsome. Hopefully remarkable.

There are no shortcuts from that forlorn place to the fetching finished product. And the only person who stands between the beginning and the end, is the writer. He has to be his biggest fan before he can ask others to be fans, too.  The foundation must be there.

The Best Advice a Writer Can Receive

Authors who appear before groups are often asked several pat/canned questions. Where do we get our ideas. Did we get our story from personal life? Who's our favorite authors? But one I usually stumble with is this one . . . "What's the best advice you ever received?"

Our writing lives happen in stages. Novice, early journeyman, journeyman, lieutenant master and master. Yes, I just made that up, but it is how I see a writer's career. You don't travel from one to another without serious investment of time, education and experience, not to mention bumps and bruises. But with each stage comes advice from those who've gone before us.

So I say there isn't one piece of advice that trumps the others. We amass advice, and it behooves us to remember all the jewels and not think that one diamond outshines the other gems. There comes time for rubies, sapphires, opals, onyx, tanzanite, and emeralds as well. All are worthwhile to keep.

Here is some of the best advice I've received from acquaintances about writing:

1) Finish whatever you start. 

What you think starts out slow might end on a high note. What you think isn't good now might be once you edit. Writing can zap the life out of you, and sometimes we reach a mid-point in a work and want to give up. That might be the time you need to dig in and prove you can overcome this hump. I had a published mystery author tell me this over dinner one night, before her signing, when I told her my rough draft of Lowcountry Bribe sat on a shelf from where I gave up.

2) Write daily.

It works for Stephen King, and he's unashamed to say it's the right way to write. It's served him well. Whether you write morning pages ala Julia Cameron or five hundred words in your next novel or angst-ridden poetry, write every day. You don't get better not writing. You don't get  better thinking about writing. You don't get better by quitting when it gets hard. You only get better by writing, so writing daily only makes sense.

3) Read voraciously.

The more I read, the better I write. And I've become selective in what I read because reading is like osmosis. What you reads sinks into your system. I choose what I think is better writing than mine because I want to learn as I'm entertained. We write better when we read better writing. Don't ever be caught without a book, and don't think you have to read bad writing to understand it. You already know what it is. As a professional, fight to move forward in your talent.

4) Be careful of those who hold you back.

You know the people I'm talking about. The ones who question your ability to earn a living as a writer. But also the ones who rabidly criticize you for taking yourself seriously. Keep chugging away, and discard the naysayers. Critiquers are good, but some get overzealous. And as one critique partner of mine warned me on one dark evening when a couple of writers tried to dismantle what I considered a damn fine chapter: "Many unsuccessful writers will try to change your writing, because it makes them feel big to impact your climb to success." Believe in yourself and keep at it.

5) Never think you've arrived.

Humility exists in all levels of professionalism. About the time you think you've arrived, something or someone will painfully remind you that there's always room to grow.

6) It has to hurt.

Rejection, critiques, mistakes, one-star reviews, snubs, ignored submissions, contest losses, no comments on your blog, your sister not reading your manuscript, and on and on. All jobs have down sides. Writing is no different. Don't be such a diva. Put a band-aid on it and keep writing. Learn from the scars. Accept your mistakes and try not to make them again.

7) And most of all . . . keep going.

Especially on the days that suck. Especially on the days someone stomps all over your creativity. The fact you got up and kept writing makes you stronger.

The How-to versus the Know How To

In critique groups, we occasionally step on each others toes. Understandable sometimes. We're all eager to improve and are all striving to understand how to make our work better. In doing so, we often ask burning questions that challenge. This week, a fellow writer asked me why I wasn't doing certain things in my writing that are mentioned in his how-to-write books.

When do we follow the rules and when don't we follow the rules?

There's a fine line between being unique for unique's sake and knowing what you're doing in breaking the rules. Voice is our own, and sometimes voice happens when rules are bent a little. But the problem is, you have to know the rules first so you know when it's strategic to bend them . . . and aren't perceived as a novice not knowing what she's doing.

All too many times I've heard unpublished writers say, "Rules are made to be broken." Not only are they a walking-talking cliche, but they are broadcasting that they are not comfortable with the rules. 

How-to books are good...to a point. We all need to read a handful. However, I find more education in reading good books that have gone before mine, via authors who've made their mark in the world, than someone telling me how to do it. The old SHOW DON'T TELL works here, too.

Osmosis is a remarkable subtlety that takes place when we immerse ourselves in well-written stories. I even go so far as to say that we learn more by reading excellent works in the genre we write than any class or how-to book on the market. I'd rather spend an hour reading remarkable writing than sitting an hour in a classroom or an hour highlighting text in a how-to.

Too often, we fear the DOING part of our work. 

We want to know all there is about how to do it before we start. We hate making mistakes. We hate appearing the novice. We want to know the terminology and recognize verb tense, point of view and head-hopping so we slide into a writers group and appear knowledgeable. We want to be able to sling terms around like Internal Monologue or Beat like we've known it all our lives. When is a prologue acceptable? What are the rules so we aren't caught with our pants down when challenged by others who ask why we didn't follow them?


I taught a group one time in which a woman bragged about having 28 how-to books on her shelf and got excited when she found a new one. Her favorite reading was how-to-write books. And she's never published a single book of her own. She said she didn't want to start until she'd learned how to do it properly.

Quit trying so much to be the writer. Try harder to write.

Personally, I think voice is the most important part of a story, not which part of the book certain things are supposed to happen. The minute I spot A Hero's Journey in a book, I'm done with it. Too predictable. Give me a good, well-honed, creative voice all day long, and I'll be patient to see how the story unfolds. And voice only comes from hundreds of thousands of words you've written, edited, and thrown away to find the gems worth keeping. And how-to books don't give you those.

Seduce to Sell

As I ran through my emails today, I noted an abundance of LinkedIn, infomercial and Facebook messages making the same mistake. "____ being released today. Click here to check it out."

One was a service, several were books, a few were new websites, possibly belonging to authors, but the common thread through them all was that they sold something and wanted me to buy it . . . without telling me much about what it was.

Sorry, if you want me to follow you, you need to sweet-talk me, and make me want you.

Like a John seeking a hooker, from a collection of hookers, I'm a customer who needs wooing and enticement. Even though I know you're trying to coax me, I still want you to go through the motions . . . and do it extremely well. Entice me. Become a Siren, calling the sailor in.

Sure, I know what you're doing. You're artfully attempting to get me to buy your book, service, etc., and I know that. But I want to play the game. I want you to tell me why you're so good, why your story is magnetic, why what you do for me will be memorable.

But to just ask me to hand you my money without dancing the dance is like a stranger coming up to you saying, "Hey, write me a check and I'll give you this." No personality, no friendliness, no customer service.

If you want me, you have to earn me. Make me want to read more of your story by showing me enough to suck me in. We all know that showing is better than telling, and if you don't even tell, you've lost from the outset.

Ick...Is that really me?

While in St Louis, Missouri at the Missouri Writers Guild Conference a week ago, I was asked if I would do an impromptu interview...on podcast. They struggled with it being live, and recorded it instead. They put it out three days later. I caught myself wincing throughout watching it.

Then I realized that was The Shy Writer talking to herself. Afraid of something different.

My environment is online, in newsletters, on Twitter, on Facebook, and on blogs. It's all about the words I type, and has little to do with my age, looks, voice, or ability to speak intelligently. So when I was pulled into the motel bar, sat on a sofa, and sat smiling clueless as the interviewer set up his laptop on a table and read questions off his phone, I had no clue what to do. 

In The Shy Writer Reborn, I talk all about being prepared. Preparation takes away the uneasiness, or at least a major part of it. I was clueless what was about to come at me, so I had to purely wing it...adlib...off the top of my head. Add to that the vague idea where to look or who to smile at, and I sat there nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

Sooner or later, when you are a writer in a public setting, you will be caught unawares. Just do your best and rock on. What could I have done if this went badly?

1) I could have asked the interviewer to scratch the interview.
2) I could have asked the interviewer to give me questions and reschedule the interview to a time I was better prepared.
3) I would have asked the interviewer to forward me the podcast before he released it, so I could ask him to delete a section or two.

But "went badly" is relative. As I endured the interview, as brief as it was, I told myself these lessons, straight out of The Shy Writer Reborn:

1) What if I wasn't afraid right now? (i.e., If I wasn't afraid, I'd smile, answer questions, and do okay.)
2) After this is over. (i.e., After this is over, I can change into my sweats and kick back on my king-sized motel bed with Roo cuddled against me.)
3) I'm really okay. (i.e., This podcast is minor, and unless I stumble all over myself in embarrassing manner, it will not only be okay, but will be a nice marketing tool.)

Suddenly, I was done with the interview, and I didn't screw up too badly, and I didn't come apart. And I was glad I endured it. That's the thing about introverts who learn to step into the public eye. They are jittery inside, but they develop manners that keep them collected.

Then later...go have a big stuff drink! LOL

Caution: May be Habit Forming

I'm a staunch advocate of writing daily. Of course, where there's a mindset of doing something creative every day, there's another saying wait for the muse. But I've yet to run into a successful artist or writer who practiced the latter, waiting for the right moment to write.

So when I speak to groups and suggest strongly that they write every day, I meet with resistance. Everybody's days are already full, and they let me know with eye-rolling, head shaking, flat-lined mouths and a bit of whining. Then I see those people who are still anxiously waiting for me to help them figure out how to do it. Those are the people I look at as I continue with my advice to do the following:

1) Write 10 minutes each day. 

What you're striving for is the habit. Thinking you need a huge chunk of time is self-defeating because a habit doesn't start drastically. When you change your exercise or eating habits, those experts tell you not to change your entire set of life habits overnight. You can squeeze ten minutes into any day, even making yourself do it before you go to bed. Soon you're looking forward to it, and you stretch it to fifteen....then thirty. Suddenly you realize you can't do without it.

2) Mark off the days.

Jerry Seinfield has a well-known writing habit that makes him develop his material on a steady basis, constantly improving. He suggests a writer post a calendar with the entire year shown on it (not a monthly or weekly calendar). Then, as the writer fulfills his writing goal (i.e., 10 minutes, 500 words, one chapter) he marks off that day with a big red marker. Soon he sees his habits. And he realizes quickly when he's sliding. And he strives to make red X's closer together on a regular basis.

3) Carry a notebook.

Whether it's electronic or paper, carry a notebook, taking each spare moment to jot down a thought. It serves as a prompt for you to view the world through a writer's eye, and as that revelation comes to you, you pull out your device or paper and write it down. Sure, you'll go back and delete/cross-through a lot of them, but you'll also preserve some nugget to embellish and expand upon . . . an idea that would have evaporated into the air if you hadn't written it down.

Now....how hard is that? All are doable. And all gradually take you from a stop-and-go writer to a diligent one who starts seeing development and improvement in his work. Good luck!

Let me know if you do any of these. Or let me know if you have a successful habit of your own!

The Shy Writer in You

http://chopeclark.com/shy-writer-reborn/

YOU NEED TO WRITE. You’ve penciled stories since you were nine. Or you’ve reached a stage in your life where that book screams to come out. Writing has gestated inside of you for far too long. But the fear of what’s before you is scary.

             

You’ve sweated over that story for ages, but you still aren’t sure it’s good enough. You’re not keen on criticism and rejection. What if you’ve struggled over your writing for naught?

             

Or you feel great about your writing, but lose sleep over pitching, querying, and especially, developing a platform. Such a learning curve! Pinterest, Facebook, blogs, and who cares about Twitter?

             

You are a shy writer . . . I know what you're thinking.

Can’t you just write? Aren’t there people out there willing to do all this promotional gymnastics for you? And nope, you draw the line at standing before a crowd.

             

Maybe writing isn’t worth all this trouble. People expect you to be a used-car salesman, and you did not bargain for this. What’s the point of writing if you don’t know how to sell the end result without sacrificing your integrity, your soul?

             

You have a fear of some aspects of our profession, and it’s probably holding you back. You do not know how to act, perform, or sell because so many of these actions are not normal for you . . . the introverted writer.

Introversion may seem like a major obstacle to building a successful writing career, but this wonderful “covers-all-the-bases” book handily debunks the notion. Highly recommended.
~Peter Bowerman, Author “The Well-Fed Writer” series, www.wellfedwriter.com

             

You do not enjoy being extroverted. I don't either. That's why I wrote The Shy Writer Reborn. It's not a drama manual or a mental adjustment how-to that makes you something you are not. This is a book to help you deal with the world of writing in your own fashion. It’s a book to show you that it’s natural to feel like you do . . . to show you there are others feeling the same.

             

You do not have to speak at conferences. You do not have to be embarrassed at a signing. You do not have to hold up your book and yell, “Great new mystery. Half off price for two days only.”

             

Or you might have a desire to do these things, but don’t feel comfortable in how to start. 

Hope has solutions in The Shy Writer Reborn that let you make the most of who you are instead of asking you to change your personality.
~Linda Formichelli, owner of The Renegade Writer Blog (http://www.therenegadewriter.com) and co-author of The Renegade Writer: A Totally Unconventional Guide to Freelance Writing Success

             

Your personality is your personality. You write because you love writing, and you equally enjoy the alone time required to do it right. You do not have to sacrifice yourself to fit someone else’s mold of a writer . . . or salesman. Challenge is good for growth, but agony is unhealthy. The comfort level is yours to define.

             

Remain loyal to yourself while maneuvering in the writing arena without so much of a social weight around your neck. Learn how to manage during times you need to make appearances you cannot avoid. Deal with agents and editors without biting your nails or sweating through your clothes. 

C. Hope Clark shares how to overcome that fear while navigating interviews, pitches, queries, and more. She even finishes the book with a great set of mantras! If you’re a shy writer, this is the book that will help you find and cultivate an audience for your writing.
-Robert Lee Brewer, Senior Content Editor, Writer’s Market

             

What I won't tell you is to get over being shy. You only hear that from people who aren’t shy. Well, you’re introverted, and that’s a good thing in so many ways. As one of you, I fought the fears as well. I still wrestle with self-esteem when asked to speak at a conference, when pitching an article, and when discussing edits on my latest novel.

                
It’s harder to pretend to be something you’re not. Enjoy being a writer . . . and enjoy being you. These days, being real is the most marketable commodity of all.