This morning I stared at the cursor blinking on my computer screen as I worked on my current manuscript. I’m at the point where that little voice is yelling, “What makes you think you can do this?” I yell back— “I know I can—I’ve done it nineteen times before.” But it’s not helping.

Dale’s post on Saturday encouraged me. While I haven’t lost my writing mojo, I’m tired.
The middle of a book is the hardest for me. They don’t call it the sagging middle for nothing. I know my characters, but they are rebelling on me, not going where I want them to. Of course, eventually I’ll listen to them—if I don’t, they’ll quit talking to me. As I cast my line into the possibilities, a thought hits me.

Did you really think it would be easy?

Before I was published, I doubt I ever gave a thought that this writing gig might be really hard. Back then, I didn’t know what I didn’t know. Now I’m thinking about all the things I wished I’d known when I first started writing many years ago, so I decided to write unpublished-self a letter.

Dear Patricia,

You didn’t know it was going to take so long to get a book published, did you? Thirty years. Would you have kept writing if you had? Or would you have thrown up your hands and said that’s too long and too difficult? I know you were tempted a few times. What a shame it would have been.

Looking back, I can see a few places where you could have made the journey easier. Like if you had connected with other writers earlier, gotten into a critique group, or attended a few conferences. But I realize it wasn’t always an option. It is easier now, with the Internet to connect with other writers. And those self-imposed deadlines could have been a little tighter. That discipline would have really helped when the publisher’s deadlines started coming, like now.

But you did a few things right. Like taking classes, which you continue to do even now. And you finally were able to attend conferences where you met your agent…of course you didn’t realize it would take you five years to finish that manuscript she requested, but you finally did and she accepted you.

You kept learning the craft, so that when God opened the door for publication, you were ready to walk through it. Of course, you still had a lot to learn and each book has taught you something new. And as you write this book, you’ll learn something new again.

I want you to know that when you receive a publishing contract, everything changes. Oh, not the excitement about writing, but the realization that you have a responsibility now to turn in a clean manuscript on time—writing is no longer something you do when you have time. Now you must make time for it. Writing is a job; other people are depending on you to do what you say you’ll do. That means that when a friend calls and wants to do lunch, you won’t always be available. It won’t be easy, but then, I don’t suppose any goal is easy.

Thank you for sticking to it. It’s been a wonderful journey, even the pre-pub days. Keep writing and don’t give up.

Your older and wiser (hopefully) self
Patricia

Okay, TKZers, can you relate? If you’re published, what is something you would tell your pre-published self? Or what would you tell a new, struggling writer?

I’m having a medical procedure, so I may late responding to comments, but I’ll catch up!