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I’m thinking about all the things I wished I’d known when I first started writing many years ago, so I decided to write unpublished-self a letter.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!
Pat, what a great idea to write to your younger self. Sometimes we become so fixated on the current problem/goal that we forgot to look back and see how far we’ve come and how much we really have accomplished.
You asked an important question. Would you do it all over again if you’d known how long it was going to take? As long as we can answer yes, we made the right choice to keep writing.
I agree, Debbie! And I would do it all over again. It’s been a great ride.
My pre-published self was so used to everything coming easily, that it was thrilling, but no surprise, when my first novel was purchased by the first editor I sent it to. I didn’t know enough to even try to get an agent.
What would I tell the younger, much more ignorant, me about the game of publishing?
Keep writing. A lot. You won’t rise to the level needed for a career as a writer unless you continually strive to improve.
Don’t think you have to follow anyone else’s process. Your voice is unique, not exactly like anyone else’s, and that’s important.
When your editor asks you to write more books in a new series Berkley is starting, do it! Don’t tell yourself that you can write only stories that pop into your head. Do the research and make it happen. (Huge error on my part.)
Don’t get so down on yourself and your ability that you feel defeated. People talk about breaking into the big publishing houses, but it is exponentially easier to get published now (then) than it will be in 2026.
Write because you love it and have stories to tell, not because your husband is constantly telling you to write a bestseller so he can retire. He was going to retire at 52 anyway. lol
Love it, Becky! I can’t imagine not writing what you love. If you don’t it would be like doing math homework way back in the day when I was in school…
I would tell my pre-published self that just because you finally snagged a contract, you are not set for life. Prepare yourself for change. Favorite editors retire or move on to another house. Publishers get bought by other publishers, or close entire divisions. Agents retire, too. All these happened to me. Best advice I got was from another writer, who told me, “You have to keep re-inventing yourself.”
“You have to keep re-inventing yourself.” So true Elaine! My first editor retired and I was terrified. What if the new editor didn’t love my work, but she did and we have a great working relationship.
I’m glad last Saturday’s WoW post helped, Pat. Writing a letter to your younger, pre-published self is a great idea. I’ve listed accomplishments to “share” with my younger, pre-published self, and that also helped.
Re-invention is definitely something I’m doing these days, too.
Saturday’s post did help, Dale. I’m hoping now that I have all my medical procedures behind me, I can focus again. What is it with a writer that it’s so hard to focus when you have something major (or minor) coming up that interferes with being able to write?
That’s easy: writing takes everything you have.
You can’t do it if part of you isn’t with you, if that makes sense?
Great advice. Now if I can fine-tune my ansible and send your letter back in time to both of us …
I wish, Mike! My biggest mistake was making the same mistakes over and over and not having anyone to tell me–hey, you’re head hopping.Stop it!
From those of us seemingly forever locked in that pre-published world, thanks for the advice.
I’m glad I can help, Marshall! Please don’t give up. I’ve often asked new (and old) writers–What if I’d given up at year thirty? Or in January of the year I got a contract in October?
Don’t waste any time on envy, even though Anne Lamont says it happens to all writers. It’s a useless emotion. If it sneaks up on you, and it will, give it a swift kick and sit down and write another chapter.
Amen, Jim! Envy creeps in when another writer whose work isn’t all that great (in your opinion) gets a contract while yours languishes an agent or editor’s TBR pile…
Love this, Pat! It’s a great exercise. What surprised me most were deadlines. For some reason, I work better under pressure. When I have too much time on my hands, I tend to let things slide to the wayside. Deadlines work for me.
The biggest eye-opener for me was the publisher’s control of my manuscript(s). I’ve had some nightmare proofreaders who tried to change active voice into passive. Not content or line editors. Proofreaders! Geesh, stay in your lane and check for typos. And that’s exactly what I told my publisher… more than once.
Best of luck and skill for your medical procedure – I know the feeling!
Took me many years to give up on submitting for a traditional contract, so by the time I had switched tacks to my current mainstream trilogy, Pride’s Children, and was approaching that same point, I said, “To heck with that,” and self-published, which I will never regret – the grueling ‘submission’ process took more out of me than the writing (even though it was for a different book/series: it’s too busy, too fraught, too accidental in many ways (I may be wrong)).
But possibly the marketing would have been better – but they might not have been happy at how long (due to chronic illness) it took me to produce book 2 in the trilogy, and is taking me for book 3. Dunno, and now never will.
But the traditional process destroyed my soul in its lack of control on the ARTIST’S side, so I’ll live with the results, and now that the 3rd book, PC: LIMBO is really starting to take life, I am content.
As an extreme plotter, ALL the work I put in since the year 2000 is coming to fruition! I love that, and I’m the only judge.
Honestly, I’d probably just dash off a quick note: “When you think to yourself, ‘Hey, I could do this, but better,’ — when you think, ‘I could do this, and it would be fun’ — you’re right. Relax, write whatever you want; once you’ve sorted out how to write a novel, aim for Big Five publishing but watch the rights reversion clauses way more carefully than the advances; and get into self-publishing as soon as possible. Have at least a trilogy ready to drop into self-publishing in 2011. Also, buy Amazon stock.” Boom, that’d smooth out a few slings and arrows.