Many of the people I know, or meet, are aspiring writers. A lot of them are working on their book, or thinking about it, or dreaming about it, or cleaning house in a desperate attempt to avoid THE BOOK. Seriously, everyone I meet seems to think they have a book in them. And some of them really do:
Do you have a book in you? This guy did!
When these folks find out that I found the holy grail signed with a literary agent–and not just any literary agent, mind you, but a SFF rock star–I am immediately inundated with questions. Which I do not mind at all; I’m so new to this game that my first book (sold by said rock star agent) won’t be released till next year. A very short while ago, I was one of those round-eyed aspiring writers. I’d drive down the road practicing my “Yes, I would be delighted to have you represent my book” phone conversation.
It was a good thing I did that, by the way; when I first spoke to my agent by phone, I was calm and professional. The moment I hung up, however, I lost my shit. Seriously, I called my first reader to tell her the news and she didn’t even recognize my voice.
Most of the questions I hear are along the lines of:
Question #1: “Are you rich yet?”
Question #2: “How do I get an agent and sell my book?”
Answer #1: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaa *gasp* hahahahahahahahaaaa. snort. giggle. heh. Nope. I’m pleased with the advance I received from Titan Books; it was enough to replace the clutch in my old car, replace the appliances that quit working because I had money coming in, pay some bills, and buy a bottle of good whiskey. Median advances for a debut fantasy novel are in the $7k range, folks; that’s not going to buy a castle in Scotland. But it does show that my publisher has faith in my book’s potential, which makes me happy, and pays a bit of rent, which makes my landlord happy.
Answer #2: Have you finished writing your book? I know, because I’ve been you, that this is not the non-answer you really want to hear. And you’re not alone:
‘Some writers enjoy writing, I am told. Not me. I enjoy having written.’
~George R.R. Martin
You want to pick up the phone, describe your awesome story to the world’s greatest agent, who was sitting by the phone hoping you’d call so he could send the gold-plated contract that’s been sitting on his desk forever just waiting for your signature. Oh, and he’s got a dozen Big 5 editors ready to bid against one another for the chance to publish your book in a special gold-plated edition bound in human skin.
I feel your pain, I really do. But that’s not how this works. No agent is going to want to represent that book if it’s still in you, covered in your guts and mucus and DNA goo. You’re going to have to get that bitch out into the fresh air, and clean the slime off so it’s all shiny and pretty. It’s going to hurt, it’s going to drive you crazy, and it’s going to take more effort and commitment and sheer cussedness than you think you can take. I gave birth four times, without drugs, to babies who weighed in at just under ten pounds each. And that was nothing compared to writing my first book.
I didn’t think I could do it.
I did it.
And you can do it, too.
Now, I have some good news for you: writing a book isn’t all talent and inspiration and serendipity. As a matter of fact, if I were to make a pie chart called Writing a Book and demonstrate the percentages of talent/inspiration/dreamy shit versus time spent banging your head on a brick wall, tenacity, tendonitis, and building your skill set as a writer, the happy-skippy-muse stuff would be a smear of whipped cream on the bottom of the pie plate. Talent and inspiration and all that are wonderful if and when you have them, but most of the work of writing a book can be accomplished by SITTING YOUR ASS DOWN AND WRITING. And your writing skills can be acquired, built upon, and honed.
The bad news? Bullshit excuses won’t get your book written, and frankly nobody wants to hear them.
RECAP:
1: If you’re human, there’s a good possibility that you want to write a book.
2: You’re not going to get an agent or sell your book until you write the damn thing.
3: You’re probably not going to get rich selling your book, but what the hell, it’s still awesome.
4: It’s possible for you to write that book you’ve been dreaming of and get it published–or publish it yourself.
5: I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses for not finishing your book, and neither does anyone else.
For those of you who keep your ass in the chair long enough to get this thing done, I’ll be writing about how I went about finding my rock star agent, and why he agreed to work with me.
Also…as great as you think it might be to finish that book, get an agent, and get published? You’re wrong. It’s so much better than that.
Jai tu wai,
Debi
Deborah A. Wolf is a weaver of tales, a lifelong student of pretty much everything, and sworn to slay the dreaded Grammarwocky.
Gold Standard
As a new writer, still in my original packaging and waiting to be put out on the shelves for people to buy (or not), I am at a weird and enviable stage in my career. Weird, because while I’ve sold a book (or three) my work has yet to be made public, so I’m still Nobody. Enviable, because I’ve successfully leapt the hurdles FINISH THE BOOK, GET AN AGENT and SELL THE BOOK, so I’m kinda Somebody, as well. Enough of a Somebody that I find myself fielding the “how-did-you” questions, enough of a Nobody that I’m easily approachable and still have a few minutes’ free time to spare for giving advice of dubious merit.
One question that is often asked but difficult to articulate, even for writers–perhaps especially for writers, and I imagine other artists as well–is: “How did you DO it?”
Q: “What is the meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything?”
A: (That one’s easy): 42.
Q: “How did you DO it?”
A: That one’s a bit more difficult…
“How did you DO it?” You ask. Do you mean ‘How did you get an agent’, or ‘How did you choose a point of view’, or ‘How did you get past editing Chapter One till you’d worn the letters off your keyboard and gave up to go play mini golf’?
All of those and more, of course.
“What writing tools do you use? What is your revision process? How did you decide on POV characters?” The aspiring author sees that first impossible hurdle–FINISH THE BOOK–and asks, “How did you DO it?” When she is really asking, “Can I do it?”
The answer she fears, echoing deep in the dank and slimy pit of her soul, is “No, you can’t.”
That was the answer I always got, anyway. And then my demon would laugh as I shut down Word and logged onto Facebook instead. Because that bitch wants nothing more than for you to give up, so that she may remain in the shadows and nibble at the edges of your soul without interruption.
So, what changed? How did I go from someone who desperately longed to be an author to someone who has written THE BOOK and shepherded it all the way to a sale? How did I elude the ubiquitous lack of self-confidence that hunts artists and eats them for breakfast?
How did I do it? Was it Scrivener? A workshop? A critique group?
Did I sacrifice a goat???
Nope. No goats were harmed in the creation of this book.
I found a superhero, someone who believed in me and my work, someone who cheered me on and freaked out in a good way with every new chapter and wheedled and cajoled and kicked my ass every step of the journey. Someone who believed in me even though I never did. I found my #1 fan.
The Author and her #1 Fan
If you are an artist of any color, the world is going to judge you and find you unworthy. It is likely you will judge yourself unworthy; I know I did. But if you have one person lighting a candle in the darkness for you, one person who hangs your painting on the wall or taps her foot in time to your singing or stays up till two in the morning reading your latest chapter and then threatens to break your arm if their favorite character stays dead…
That’s the good stuff, man. That’s the gold standard.
This one’s for you, Kristine. I couldn’t have done it without you.
I’m writing as fast as I can!
At a recent visit to the insane asylum. We fit right in.
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