The good some closure can do

my writing area . . .

Three-ring notebooks dominate the lowest tiers of a five-shelf unit in my writing station. Printouts of manuscripts and edits, e-books, and Internet tips and articles fill these binders--pages and pages and pages of material I generated or created to help me learn and improve my craft over the years. Paperbacks and hardbacks organized by function--craft, models, comparables, aspirants--are crammed into the upper shelves. Those that don't fit are piled on end tables, bureaus, or empty chairs in every room of my house.

Utility drawers upstairs and downstairs are stuffed with red and black pens, paper clips, binder clips, post-it notes, highlighters. Literary journals, a notebook full of manuscript requests, submissions, and rejection notices line the shelves on my work desk. Another binder lists writing contests organized by month, dating back to 2008, but hasn't been updated since I started graduate school.

Six years. Seven novels started, chapters of which haved been shared with family and friends to varying reviews. Three completed. Evidence of countless revisions. Rewrites. Stories and novels redux. Three years of online critiques printed and collated. One master's in creative writing earned and even more binders of graded writing--one per semester--taking up space.

Until a week ago, nothing much to show for all this work--no, mess--besides about a dozen short fiction/essay acceptances, a half dozen contest wins, and too many snark attacks to keep straight, mostly from other writers though several agents get high marks for snarky zingers, too, in response to queries. One of my favorites: "I remember when I wrote my first novel . . ." in response to querying my first novel.

When you win a contest, you're up. When you get a savage critique from an online site, you're down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Rarely is there any kind of equilibrium. Writer friends lift you up. The same ones put you down. High. Low. High. Low.

That's why, when Booktrope Publishing out of Seattle offered a contract to publish my opera book this month, I accepted. I needed some closure--on at least one of my projects--in order to keep working on the other projects--on anything.

I realize now I felt weighed down by my completed manuscripts that didn't accomplish the ends I envisioned for them. Now that Booktrope is publishing the opera book, that chapter of my saga can be considered done--no revisions required once the book is published--and I can recollect my widely scattered attentions and channel them towards a fewer number of projects.

Though we are encouraged to multi-task in the workplace, and everyone claims to be good at it, I've realized over the years that I am not. However, the only way to persevere as a writer is to multi-task. Shop one novel while you are completing another and polishing yet another while you're entering a story contest or writing a blog post or doing a review of a friend's book. It's what we all do, and frankly, it's exhausting.

I will continue to juggle novel completions, submissions, and rewrites because that's what the profession demands from us. Having closure on at least one of my works has restored my faith in making the journey and has made it feel less like a slog.

The path to publication is a slog. Remember?

I know! However, because of the closure offered by this particular acceptance, I feel like a horse reshod, a kid with new Keds. I feel reenergized in my once-noble, now wholly consuming quest to be a published writer.

As my friend Mary Beth says, "There's nothing a little success won't cure."

Note: My debut novel will be published in December 2011 by Booktrope Publishing.

Three great reasons to write creatively

Exactly six years ago, also in the thick of springtime, I began writing fiction. Since then I've spent an incalculable amount of time with my fingers attached to a computer keyboard, trying my hand at stories, essays, and several novels. I haven't done any house painting or furniture redecorating, things I did before I began writing. About the only hobby I've pursued with nearly the same intensity as writing creatively is gardening.

I never pledged to devote a singular amount of life focus to fiction writing, to the goal of becoming a published author. It's just something that happened along the way as I discerned the quality gap between what I was producing and needed to produce to be published.

Luckily, I have a supportive husband, who has encouraged my writing career in every conceivable way, including my choice to earn a master's degree in creative writing from Wilkes University.

Does writing involve sacrifice? It certainly can. It must. There are only so many hours in a day. I can't write every day and do all of the other activities I used to. Something's gotta give. I don't cook, bake, clean, shop, or hang out with friends as much as I used to. I don't do as many things with my husband either--writing is a solitary activity after all. Though my husband will occasionally serve as a first responder. By that I mean the first person to respond to new work I've written or stories I've rewritten.

In this quest to excel at writing and someday publish a novel, what then have I gained?

I'm more observant.

Over the weekend I was lying on the hammock on a gloriously sunny day and found myself examining the color of the sky behind scads of new green leaves on maple branches. A cloudless blue sky, with too much blue in it to be called robin-egg blue.

While it might not be difficult to identify the shade that comes from an HTML color chart  such as #045FB4, the writer's job is to link the shade of blue with which something the reader can identify--a sensory detail. It was uniformly cornflower blue. I also really notice the heat stream from the dishwasher when I open it. And spend more time than ever watching blue jays contort their large bodies. With claws clutching the metal perch, they tuck their heads almost to their breast to be able to eat from the cylindrical feeder.


I learned volumes about classic opera
researching a novel about an opera guild.



I have a better general education.

Writers have to do incredible amounts of research in order to complete stories and books--fiction writers, too. In efforts to realistically create settings, effective plot points, and interests/quirks of characters, I have studied classic opera, Jamaican patois, contemporary hate crimes in the United States and around the world, calorie-restrictionist organizations, perfume makers, Shaker culture, Amish culture, activism in South America, Tom Jones impersonators, and the list goes on and on. I'm lucky I have a pronounced love of learning. At least that's what a University of Pennsylvania strengths-finder survey identified as my top strength. Does one's avocation pursued over time hone one's strengths or do certain strengths steer one a person toward certain pursuits? Perhaps a little of both.

I've learned to take rejection better, almost in stride.



Rejection hurts. No, Cymbalta can't help.

 When you begin submitting your work with regularity, you are bound to face more rejection than you ever imagined you could or would. And unless you intend to stop writing, you learn to absorb what you can from the experience, put aside the rejection, and keep moving forward. Do I consider myself a loser because my work is being constantly rejected? Absolutely not. Rejection means I'm in the game.

I've not always handled rejection well. That's because a lot of things in life come easily to me. Writing not so much. If I have any success in the creative writing universe, it's because I earned it. Yes, rejection stings, sometimes it hurts like hell, especially when you've come close to publication, and by publication, I mean a book deal--that's what I'm working toward. But like Margaret Atwood said, "Don't complain. No one's putting a gun to your head--forcing you to be a writer." Or something like that. Being rejected offers me the chance to learn lessons critical to my development as a writer and as a person.

Why do you write creatively? What reasons can you add to this short list?

Publishing wannabes, be optimistic but not foolish

Never thought I'd be referring to the Harvard Business Review for a creative writing blog post. But I ran into this inspired post at work offering great advice for those who've set challenging goals for themselves. What could be more challenging than publishing a novel--conventionally?

Anyway, in this article called "Be a Optimist Without Being a Fool," motivational psychologist Heidi Grant Halvorson* believes that while it's good to be optimistic, it is a ridiculous posture to think you'll easily succeed at most difficult tasks.

"But there is an important caveat: to be successful, you need to understand the vital difference between believing you will succeed, and believing you will succeed easily."

In other words, be a realistic optimist. Believe you will succeed, but at the same time, take steps to ensure success happens. For writers, that means submitting, networking, continuing writing, joining a writing group, taking a craft class or workshop, building your platform, etc.

None of us knows our own timetable for success. A friend's book may get picked up far sooner than yours or mine. Rarely does success follow just because we really want to be published. Don't be discouraged. Be heartened because you are a realist with the wisdom and maturity to needed to accept that difficulty lies ahead.

"Believing that the road to success will be rocky leads to greater success because it forces you to take action." Halvorson said. "People who are confident that they will succeed, and equally confident that success won't come easily, put in more effort, plan how they'll deal with problems before they arise, and persist longer in the face of difficulty."

Keep putting in the effort. Keep keeping on. Eventually, your persistence is likely to be rewarded.

*Heidi Grant Halvorson, Ph.D. is a motivational psychologist, and author of the new book Succeed: How We Can Reach Our Goals (Hudson Street Press, 2011)

My bipolar BFF

my toxic Inner Critic

Today I read an excellent post about writers dumping their Inner Critics. I could definitely relate to parts of the post by author Nina Badzin.

However, my Inner Critic has a different nature than Nina's. She's not merely a toxic friend. She's bipolar, too. One minute she hates what I'm writing, tells me my work isn't any good, that it will never be any good, and that I should stop wasting time writing and sew Christmas stockings for felines instead, which are at least cute and marketable and might make some money.

my exuberant Inner BFF

But the next minute, she high fives me because of a new opening to a book which felt great while I was writing it, like I was absolutely headed in the right direction, thanks to my exuberant Inner BFF. Until I showed it to others--like gatekeepers and beta readers--no one besides me appreciated the new story start.

One minute my Inner BFF goads me to query a book that's not ready because anybody will be able to see its glorious potential. The next minute, she's kicking me for sending out something that wasn't ready, not by a long shot.

How about your Inner BFF? Up one minute? Down the next? Do you have great writing days and writing days that stink like offal and barely anything in between?

I know I do. For me, one of the ways that I discount my Inner Bipolar BFF is blogging. Blogging allows me to contribute something to the discourse about writing and publishing. My posts aren't going to revolutionize the publishing world but neither can they be faulted for not having value. They have value to someone--if not a handful of readers, than only to me because they offer a chance to practice writing and articulate what I'm feeling.

(Those of you who feel so inclined may insert the threadbare cliche here: "And I'm SOMEBODY-- because God don't make no junk.")

I think the key to success is to level out--to hide the toxic friend's posts from your brain feed until you have acquired enough critical success as defined by others to unfriend your Bipolar Inner BFF. Or put the Inner Critic and the Inner Exuberant Cheerleader in a padded room and let them duke it out.

What do you think?

It's not how you start; it's THAT you finish!

I learned something invaluable in the course of my five-year foray into creative writing: the very best thing a writer can do for herself is finish her manuscript.

Sounds academic, right? But none of the things that have happened to me thus far--the opportunities for exposure, my first offer (and subsequent offers) of literary representation, multiple requests for partials and complete manuscripts, the opportunity to attend a Pitch 'n' Shop conference and pitch a book to four editors would have come about without a finished manuscript.

Whatever it takes, I'm telling you, finish that manuscript. Nothing starts until you do.

 

Last year, as a requirement for my M.A. in Creative Writing from Wilkes University, I finished my third manuscript. And you've got to believe me--it wasn't all good, and it sure wasn't easy researching, writing,  and revising a 93,000-word manuscript in ten months. I'm not the fastest writer, and I edit as I go. In spite of those handicaps, by the first week in January, I shipped off a completed manuscript to my faculty mentor.

Days later, I sent it off to a book club in Lancaster for their January read.

Was I a fool for agreeing to be that month's read for a local reading group so soon after finishing the book? Maybe. I see the flaws in it now, but I didn't have time to address them at the time. But I was absolutely right to push myself to finish. I'm grateful to the Wilkes program and to my friend  who lined everything up with the book club, for pushing me to finish.

Did these things help? Absolutely. Make no mistake, a finished manuscript gets you in the game. Yes, I get rejection letters, but each rejection brings me closer to an acceptance. Yes, I'm still polishing that same manuscript that I finished a year ago but all I need to focus on is revisions. That means I can submit it to manuscript competitions, including this year's Amazon Novel Breakthrough Award (ABNA)--which I did.

I have  three more unfinished manuscripts, each with about 30,000-40,000 words--a young adult novel, a cozy mystery, and women's fiction and ideas for two more.

The best thing I can do for myself is embrace one of those incomplete manuscripts and finish it. And if you haven't finished your novel, you need to as well. You MUST. You owe it to yourself and those publishing ambitions of yours.

Set a word count for yourself. Add a deadline with some teeth to it (because you are trying to enter contest or a challenge among friends.) And tell as many friends as you can what you are doing and enlist their support.

I'm kind of stuck on revising a manuscript right now, feeling like it's sheer dreck. But I'm going to embrace its dreckiness and finish the damn thing because when I revise it, I know I can send it to a publishing house who is waiting to see the revision.
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Because it's not how you start, it's that you finish.

Think and grow published?

I am the co-facilitator of a group for professional women in family business--it's part of my job to moderate this forum. One of the most exciting developments this year is that I had the chance to bring in a relationship doctor--a seasoned therapist--to provide counsel to these women, to help them realize more success in business and in their personal lives in 2011.

At our first meeting, Rita (the therapist) mentioned a book that profoundly influenced her called Think and Grow Rich by Dr. Napoleon Hill.

Her assertion took me aback. She didn't seem to be the kind of person who would be motivated to choose wealth over other things in life. But I trusted her so implicitly, I thought I should check out this book. As it turns out we had the book in our business library. And my coworker ordered it as an audiobook through Interlibrary Loan, handing it over to me today. I wasn't five minutes into the book when I realized that Meredith Wilson must have been spoofing the book in his musical Music Man, whose main character Dr. Harold Hill uses the "think" method to teach schoolchildren to play musical instruments.

After I stopped laughing about that, I settled in to really listen to the message of the book. And I now understand that Napoleon Hill wasn't just trying to make people wealthy. He was trying to help them realize their dreams, whatever they may be. Besides, I'm allergic to wealth it seems, destined never to have it. As long as I have enough money, that's sufficient for me.

But I do have one magnificent obsession--something that I really want to accomplish--and that's publishing one of my novels. I haven't gotten far enough into Think and Grow Rich to know how to do this other than hearing the message that you'll never realize your dreams if you give up at moments when you feel most defeated.

Maybe it was providence I had no other book to listen to on the way home and popped in Think and Grow Rich. Other writers can appreciate when I say I've been feeling very defeated lately. Someone's recent post about not being able to get your books published being a sign that you should stop writing has been cycling through my head lately like a bad eighties song. I'm at one of the lowest points I've ever experienced in my five-year writing career. Yet, today I heard some advice reaching up from the late, great Dr. Napoleon Hill's grave that success means not giving up, to keep trying, bettering yourself, and your craft. And the strength of that admonition that you simply can't give up socked me in the gut.

I'm going to listen to more of this book. And as I do, I'll share more insights from it on "Scrivengale." This is the most upbeat I've felt about my personal quest to be a published author in days--maybe even months.

Are unpublished writers happier than hamsters?

Poor maligned hamsters. As they trot in circles in their wire wheels, we liken them to people in dead-end jobs. There's even a variation on that expression: "The wheel is turning but the hamster is dead," which refers to someone who is really dumb--dumb as a pea-brained hamster.

Pathetic little misunderstood (slightly cute) creatures.
We assume hamsters are witless. As far as we know, they keep running around in circles because they don't know what else to do and haven't yet cultivated hobbies like knitting, mah-jongg, or flash fiction writing. Rumor has it hamsters aren't big goal setters.

Who's better off? A hamster in a mill or an unpublished writer?

Good news for all you would-be-published authors out there, who may feel about as a successful as a hamster chuffing along on his wheel. Establishing a focus toward the goal of being published along with motivated effort is the very definition of happiness, at least according to Dr. Rita DeMaria, a relationship expert who spoke to our women's group this morning on the subject of how to achieve happiness in the new year. As she was encouraging the group, I was thinking how useful it would be for my fellow writers to hear that message.

In other words, happiness can be found in the journey, in the effort, in the slog. Yes, the slog, provided your slog is pinned to a worthwhile goal. And what could be more worthwhile than a goal of having your novel published? That is a life goal for me.

Keep writing! You're not a hamster!

That wasn't meant to sound like a line from a Monty Python movie. But in fact, we're none of us hamsters, no matter how much we might feel like hamsters. (If you happen to be a rodent sympathizer, then just think of yourself as a happy, goal-oriented and comely rodent for whom self-fulfillment is paramount.) And keep keepin' on until you realize publication, hopefully in the new year, or however long it takes. Why? Because the journey itself can engender happiness if you let it.