Category: The Writing Path

Posted in The Writing Path

Thankful Thursday: What IS a Writing Path (Part 1)

Posted on by beckylevine

This month, I came up on my 1-year blog-versary for this website and blog. I’d been blogging at LiveJournal for a while longer, but started this site when I got the contract for The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide. I decided I wanted a blog that was more tuned into my professional self, a blog that might, hopefully, be a bit more helpful to other writers.

Since then, I’ve let go of the LiveJournal blog, because, well–TWO WAS CRAZY, but also because I realized I can’t really split off the personal and professional parts of my writing path. Not very well, anyway, and definitely not helpful.

Anyway…in mulling over what I do here, etc, I took another look at the title and thought, okay…what does that mean? I have a sense; we probably all have a sense, but I realized I’ve never talked about the title here and what it means to me.

Until today.

Off the top of my head, there are two elements to my writing path–the craft lane and what I call the profession lane (not much liking to get into success/non-success talk!). Today I’m going to talk about my craft lane. Then another day, maybe next Thankful Thursday, I’ll move to the other side of the road and talk profession.

Because, it is, for me, about being thankful. My writing, wherever it came from, is one of the biggest gifts I’ve ever received.

Here are some of the steps/stages I’ve taken on the craft path. See if any of them sound familiar to you!

  • Writing what I read.
    I’m not talking here about writing in the genre we love, but rather that all-important first step of mimicry, flattery-by-imitation, derivative work. For me, this stage started when I was young and mostly took the form of starting a different fantasy story every week, pretty much based on whatever novel I was immersed in at the moment. You can see more about that here. This is a stage I think most writers go through, at some point, and it’s not a matter for embarrassment or shame. It’s part of learning the craft.
  • Writing for assignments.
    This is what I did in school. I chose a college that had a concentration in Creative Writing and I wrote short stories and novel chapters and poetry. A teacher would assign a topic, and I would write. This was the stage in which I found out about writing for deadline and writing on task, and when I learned that I could do that. Creatively.
  • Committing to a project.
    For many, many years I was a mystery writer. I was writing a mystery. I started it when I was living in Los Angeles, brought it with me when I moved to the Bay Area, added a toddler character after my twin nephews were born, and dumped that character when they were teens. I took this mystery to critique group, I revised and rewrote, and I honed my skills on writing scenes, developing characters, planting clues, and creating tension. And then I got a better idea.
  • Falling in Love.
    I took a workshop from April Kihlstrom about writing a Book in a Week. While I was there, I was jotting notes about a new idea, a kids’ mystery with a hero and a sidekick that kept interrupting my focus being inspired by April, and telling me to write about them. Which I did. That book got written and revised and dispatched to look for a home.
  • Stretching and Growing.
    Up until this stage of the path, I was a one-idea writer. I had one idea, I wrote about one idea, and I pushed down the panicky voice telling me that this limit said something bad about my creativity/my ability as a writer. Then, I got a chance at nonfiction, a young woman told me she HAD to have a fictional role in a certain historical moment, a mythical creature said it was finally time to put him into a picture book, and that old fantasy love reared its sweet head again. And I find myself wondering not just when I’ll fit it all in, but–more importantly–about where on the craft part of my writing path all these projects will take me.

Because I do believe that I could not be taking any of these steps without the ones that have come before. Maybe path isn’t the right word. Maybe bridge would be better. (I’m SO not changing the site title!). As much as we want the superhero cape and powers that would let us leap those tall buildings and smash through the brick walls, we don’t have those. Thankfully, though, we have brains–incredible tools that grow new synapses and zap out new electrical connections and let us grow in ways that are, frankly, unbelievable.

Think back. What have you done that’s led you to today? What steps on your writing path have brought you to this curve, this fork in the road that you’re just starting to peer around?

To quote one of my favorite heroes, “The road goes ever on and on.”  Thank goodness.

Posted in Bravery, The Writing Path, Writing Fears

Opening Those Closed Doors

Posted on by beckylevine

I come from a long-lived family. I got to know three of my grandparents well into my thirties, and both of my grandmothers made it past 90. I was lucky in many ways to have them in my life, but one of the more shallow ways in which I like to look at that luck was that, truly, I got to put middle-age off for quite a while. (Do the math. Divide 93 by 2. Forty is NOT middle-age.)

Still, somewhere in the past few years, I got there. And, yes, twisted ankles take quite a while to heal; finding a comfortable & decent-looking pair of jeans takes even longer. On the flip side, it hardly takes any time, once I’ve curled up with a book, for me to fall asleep!

And there are days when I look ahead and feel like I need to race a whole lot faster if I want to do all the things I…want to do.

But I’m finding a big plus to being a person “of a certain age.” And that is that I believe in more possibilities than I did when I was younger.

When I left college, I decided that I was not a good enough writer to get into an MFA problem. This wasn’t low self-esteem; I’m pretty sure I was right. Unfortunately, I used that decision to do something we should never do…close a door. For too many years after that, I puttered with my writing, something that had previously been–since I was about ten years old–one of the most important things in my life. I wrote, or I said I was writing, but I drifted from project to project, with long gaps in between, and never getting further along than a beginning. If that.

Sometime in my thirties, I decided I was missing out and moved writing back up to a priority. The years off had put a dent in my confidence, though, had made me view myself as less of a Writer, had made me unsure if I had the skill or commitment to really produce anything. I wrote and I joined critique groups, and I wrote some more. And gradually, I began to take myself seriously enough to move steadily forward. That door was open, and I dared (and still dare) anybody to push aside the boulder I’ve got keeping it that way.

I thought this was it. I thought this was all the looking back I needed to do, that there were no other doors–in terms of my writing–that I needed to unlock.

Then just the other day I saw another door. It was tucked far into a corner. The bulb at that end of the room must have burned out, because I’ve passed that door a gazillion times in the last ten years and not even noticed it. I did hear some tapping, so muffled and quiet, I didn’t even realize something was trying to get in. A few authors I’ve been reading lately–Naomi Novik, Jim Butcher, Laini Taylor joined in, bringing the tapping up to a loud knocking. Then, finally, with a huge DUH!, my brain got it.

This was the fantasy door.

Basically, in junior high, I went straight from kids’ books and required classics to fantasy–via Tolkien and McCaffrey and Brooks and anyone else who fed my craving for elves and wizards and dragons and dark forests and sword fights. I never even heard of fan fiction until people went crazy with Harry Potter, and I never thought of sharing stories with my friends, but that’s what I was writing. Every story I started had someone with a long, white beard who spoke profoundly and made no sense. I didn’t read my work out loud, but you can bet every single character spoke with a beautiful British accent. My heroes communicated by mind with unicorns and dragons; they turned from poverty-stricken, hard-working peasants into powerful bearers of heretofore unknown magic.

You get the point.

And then–I can’t tell you when or why–I shut that door. I have a feeling it was the same kind of decision as the MFA one–I wasn’t good enough yet, so I wasn’t good enough.

Oh, all the things this writer “of a certain age” that I am now wants to say to that young girl writer…

Luckily, as I said, somehow getting older has taught me to stop putting limits on my future. I don’t know if I will ever write a fantasy. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come up with something non-derivative, completely my own.

But I do know that, as of a week ago, there is a folder in my filing cabinet labeled FANTASY. And in that folder, there are a few slips of paper, with just a few scribbled notes on them. Ideas.

Possibilities.

What doors have you closed and either forgotten about or too stubbornly ignored? Is it time, perhaps, to go oil the lock and hunt out the key?

Posted in Blogging, The Writing Path, WIP, Workshop, Writing Conferences, Writing Goals, Writing Projects

How Many Balls Should You Juggle…and Which?

Posted on by beckylevine

Last year, I guest-posted over at Shrinking Violet Promotions about the pluses of saying Yes. I believe firmly that it’s a much better word than No. Especially when you’re talking to yourself.

But how many yes‘s can you handle? As you move further along your writing path, opportunities are going to multiply.  Here are just a few things you may want to jump into as you get deeper into your writing and your writing community:

  • Writing on multiple WIPs
  • Taking writing classes
  • Going to some writing conferences
  • Volunteering at a writing club or conference
  • Writing a blog
  • Getting out onto Facebook and/or Twitter
  • Contributing to a newsletter
  • JOIN A CRITIQUE GROUP 🙂

And there are 24 hours in a day?

How many times can you say yes without feeling like those balls you have in the air are transforming into chainsaws and unhappy cats? How do you pick which things to say yes to, without a crystal ball to tell you how it will all work out.

You listen to your gut and accept that Baby Steps can win at “Mother May I” just as well as Giant Steps.

If something sounds fun or you really think it’ll help your writing (craft or career), say yes. If an opportunity has a sour “taste” to it, think twice. Or thrice. Either way, though, if you decide to go for it, remember you can go slowly. You can start with one class, not three. You can pick a local, one-day conference, not a four-day event that requires two days on a plane and another for recovery. Ask your conference coordinators if they can use another person at the registration desk, the day of the conference, instead of offering to handle catering for the entire event.

If you inch forward, even several inches at once, you get a chance to try things out, to test your gut with the reality, not just the picture your nervous imagination is painting. You’ll see what you enjoy, what you’re good at, and what makes you feel like you’re moving forward…versus hitting a dead-end.

You’ll be doing more and you’ll be enjoying it.

What about you? What yes’s are you considering this fall?

Posted in Critique Groups, Critiquing, First Drafts, The Writing Path

Getting a 1st Draft Critiqued…Yes or No?

Posted on by beckylevine

And of course, my answer is…it depends.

PJ Hoover, author of The Emerald Tablet, had this to say about her first drafts. It sounded very familiar, and it got me thinking.

I’m working on the first draft for my WIP and know, very firmly, that no eyes but mine shall see the actual words. I’ve finally realized that I have so much to figure out & understand about this story, that the draft is truly exploratory only. I chose this path, also, on my last book–the middle-grade mystery. That was the first draft I wrote via Book in a Week, the system I heard about from April Kihlstrom, and I was able to dive right into the second draft, with a lot more structure and a more active hero, and pass those chapters onto my critique group. At this point on my writing path, I’m just more aware of how rough these early stages truly are, and I have more confidence in my ability to do some of my own work with this mud clay I’m trying to shape.

For years, though, in my earlier writing and critiquing days, I did submit first-draft chapters to my critique group. There are days when I really miss doing things that way. And I think, depending on the writer, there are definite pluses to this kind of sharing.

  • You are not writing in a vacuum.
    When you are writing a first draft, it’s just you and the computer. While this can help you keep a flow going, it can also leave you with plenty of doubts and worries about the progress you’re making. Okay, the computer isn’t going to tell you that your plot line (what plot line?) is weak or that you’re wrong about how a circus tent smells. But neither is that computer going to reach out and give you a pat on the back, tell you that a character is getting interesting, or hand you some dark chocolate for getting all the way to Chapter 10. The support of a critique group can be just the encouragement a writer needs to…keep writing.
  • You have a “soft” deadline.
    A meeting every two weeks can be a great motivator. Sure, if a group’s critique schedule is too strongly enforced, that schedule can translate into nothing but pressure, which–if you’re like me–is about the greatest shut-down device ever invented. In a good group, though, a meeting on the calendar can be a reminder that you’re in this group because you want to write. Because you want to get some pages out. Two chapters a month for a year adds up to 24 chapters. Sounds like a first draft to me.
  • You may get some fodder for that learning curve.
    In a first draft, you think while you write. Well, there’s nothing to say that a few other people thinking about that writing has to be a bad thing. Yes, your critiquers must remember (and they will, because you’ll remind them!) that this is a FIRST draft. They need NOT to be marking commas or rewriting your description of the Cannes Film Festival that they just happened to visit last month. They can, however, talk to you about that hero you’re developing and make suggestions about his or her strengths and flaws. They can point out the places where you’ve written tension to make them crawl out of their skins and the places where…you haven’t. You can look at this comparison with pieces of your own work and start to grow a skill.

Obviously, when you’re writing and when you’re critiquing, you need to make the decision about what stage is right for you to share your work. You need to recognize whether a critique will frighten you off from your own story, stalling you out, or whether it will help you give weight and value to that story, providing a supportive audience that is not the black hole of your CPU. You need to be very careful about going back and revising too much from this early feedback, rather than using it to propel you forward.

However, I hear a lot of authors saying, however, never to show a first draft, never to get it critiqued.

And I say, well…never say “never.” Sometimes, it’s more than a little okay to say “yes.”

Posted in Marketing, Promotion, The Writing Path

If it’s September, it Must be M…m…marketing?!

Posted on by beckylevine

Well, not yet. For pete’s sake, people, the book doesn’t come out until January. But I’ve read enough about book promotion to know that you don’t wait for the book release to get started. And the one date that has been floating in my head for a while is October—the month I’m supposed to talk with the manager at Books Inc in Palo Alto about my launch party. He sends a newsletter out in November, so he/I/we want it on the calendar by then.

And October isn’t that far away.

I’m not diving in deep yet. But I do want to at least start work on a list of to-dos and check that list for my Comfort Level Inventory, as the brilliant ladies at Shrinking Violet Promotions call it. Because we can’t do everything we want, or even everything we think we’re supposed to. And I want to have as much fun as I can with this part of the writing path, not spend all my energy on all the “shoulds” so very accessible to all us worriers.

So this week I start on the list. I’m going through ALL the blog post headers over at SVP, browsing for the helpful tips I’ve read before. And I’m going back to BubbleStampede, too, for all the great ideas Laura and Fiona put up in their year of blogging. You remember, the ones Laura talked about in her interview.

There are some things that I pretty much know won’t show up on the list right away. Like a trailer. I had some ideas, and I may get to them further into 2010, but I know that the visual is not my strength and there are a whole lot of twists and turns down that path that will take some serious quiet time for me to figure out. (I can hear you all now, Oh, come on, Becky, you can TOTALLY do a trailer. And I say back to you, Maybe. We’ll see. Now go away.) Some promotion I’ll be doing through Writer’s Digest, and I think it’s better not to overlap much on that stuff.

But things like:

  • Local launch party
  • Blog interviews
  • Review copies
  • Bookmarks (Are these still a good giveaway, with all the e-readers out there? I mean, think about that.)
  • Updating my profiles on different sites
  • Stockpiling chocolate

Yes, those will all be on the list. And more. Hopefully, you guys will find this part of the journey interesting, because I’m pretty sure I’ll be blogging about it now and again. And again. As the panic rises.

It’s sure to be quite a ride. 🙂

Posted in Bravery, Getting Organized, The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide, The Writing Path, Writing Fears, Writing Projects

Taking Risks…Come On, Just a Few

Posted on by beckylevine

I am by nature an extremely cautious person. I’m also not so good with change. 38 years later, I’m still not so sure my family needed to sell our smallish tract home and move to the much bigger house, on the top of a hill, with an ocean view and a bedroom for each kid, that my parents had designed and built just for us. Really.

‘Cause you know, why swap out the old for a new? Why take the chance, when where you’re headed might be worse than where you are?

Well, obviously, because it also might be a lot better. Or just really, really good and mesh in beautifully with the happy life you already have.

The last few years, I’ve taken more risks. Nothing huge, from a lot of people’s perspectives, but from Little Miss “Okay, Mom, I’ll get nine books I’ve already read from the library and one new one,” some of the choices I’ve made have been a big deal. And they’ve gotten me to some very good places, including the writing and soon-to-happen publication of The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide.

So, this week, with school starting, more time to focus, and a year ahead in which I want things to be different, I’m putting myself out there. I’m digging deeper into my WIP, reminding myself how important this story—and my fiction—are to me. I’m working on a couple of basic pitches for two nonfiction projects, to send to my agent. I sent an email off for some consulting work. I’ve got a list o children’s nonfiction-book publishers that I’m going to contact.

You can see where the risk comes in. These are all projects I’m qualified to do, and they’re all things I really love doing. But, yes, it’s a lot. The old me would say I was insane, diving head first into all these options, instead of maybe sticking a toe (or just the tip of a toe) into that water. The new me takes a look at the possibility of insanity and does some reassuring. Here’s what I tell myself:

  • You can do these.  You can. [Sigh.] Yes, honestly.
  • None of these are sure bets. To be realistic, some—if not many—are longshots. The odds of you getting to do all of them—get real. You’re not that good. (Yes, sometimes, a big of ego-deflation is actually necessary these days. When did that happen?!)
  • They won’t all happen at the same time. Projects take weeks, months, even years to come to fruition. You’ll probably be bored, waiting for anything to do.
  • A full, exciting life is better than a quiet, dull one.
  • “Yes,” is better than “No,” much of the time. And for your writing path, just about all of the time.

Do I still get nervous? Of course. Do I let that stop me, as it would have when I was young, from reaching out, from stretching myself for the things I really want. Not any more. I may not race ahead and grab it at full-speed just yet. I do, however, hold out my hand and say, “Please.”

What about you? What risks have you taken, or are you facing, that can add to your writing path, bring you more of the happiness that it already gives you?

Posted in The Writing Path, Writing Fears, Writing Goals

And Here Comes School

Posted on by beckylevine

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you know that I consider the actual New Years Day to be August 25th. Or whatever day school starts.

Wednesday, we go pick up my son’s class schedule. Next Tuesday, we head back into the school year. Eighth-grade, at the same middle school, so there shouldn’t be any big surprises. (Of course, now that I’ve said that…). His routine starts up again.

And so does mine. Five hours to focus on my novel. And my picture book. And marketing the critique book. And developing workshops. And thinking about other nonfiction projects I want to go for. This is going to be one of my busiest years in a long time.

I could panic.

Instead, I’m just reminding myself how good it is that all this is happening and that, yes, it’s what I’ve been working toward for years. And I can do it. At least most of it.

I’m working out a new schedule for those hours. One that’s based on the pay-me-first premise of finances, that says you pay your retirement plan first, then take care of the other expenses. This year, I’m paying my fiction first. This does not mean that I’ll be shirking my other projects, like getting the critique book out there to people, or organizing writing classes and conferences, or sending out proposals for more writing. It’s just that–honestly–I always get that stuff done. And pretty well. It’s the fiction that gets pushed to the bottom of the to-do list and, too often, off the list.

So…here’s the plan, guys.

  • Get up an hour-ish before son (whose school starts later this year, so he can actually sleep in till 7:00–woo-hoo!). Take that hour to read email and blogs. Say “hi” to you all over on Facebook and Twitter. Write up posts for my own blog.
  • Take son to school.
  • Come home, TURN OFF THE INTERNET, and work on my fiction for a minimum of one hour. Depositing words into the novel or PB account. (I say fiction here, but it really means my most creative work, which may include that nonfiction, biography PB that’s stewing in the back of my brain. I say writing, but it will also mean doing research, working on character development, or just standing and staring at my white board.)
  • Work on everything else. That being anything from to marketing biz and nonfiction projects to grocery shopping, paying bills, shopping for b-day presents, or adding new lead to the mechanical pencils. Life.
  • Exercise. I really prefer to do this earlier in the day, but when I exercise in the morning, well–somehow the morning disappears. As does the writing. So…this gets pushed later on the schedule chart. 🙂
  • Pick up son. We’ll be carpooling in the afternoons, so there will be a couple of days with a bit of extra time. More pencil leads. Or perhaps a nap.
  • Hang out around son. (I don’t say hang out “with”, because he’s 13, and we’ve prettymuch gone back to parallel-play  these days.) Clean house. Think about dinner. Check in with the Internet. More writing-biz stuff. Putter as productively as possible.
  • Dinner/Family time.
  • Before bedtime, try and re-orient on fiction, if only for a few minutes, so that I’m more ready to dig in the next morning. And with the usual hope, typically fruitless, of sparking some wonderful dream that will iron out all my plot knots and create amazing arcs for my characters.

Next day, rinse and repeat.

Me, a control freak? Ha! But truly, that hour a day is the thing that keeps my fear levels down, the fear that says I’ll make progress on everything but my fiction this year. When I look at it this day, I know I’ll keep moving forward, that I’ll be giving myself the space and time I need to grow this novel and any other creative projects I dip into.

Will it work? Check back with me at Thanksgiving, and I’ll let you know.

Do you have a plan that already works for you? Are you playing with one for this year? Drop a note into the comments and share!

Posted in The Writing Path

Julie & Julia: A Cooking AND Writing Life

Posted on by beckylevine

I just got home from seeing Julie and Julia. I LOVED this movie. I have to say, until a few years ago, I was not a Meryl Streep fan, but I am SO glad she started doing comedy. Amy Adams was fantastic, and–well–I’ll watch Stanley Tucci in just about anything. I had seen previews and heard friends talk about the movie, and it lived up to all my expectations.

And it surprised me.

Because nobody told me about the writing/publishing thread. In which, I may say, there are many lessons to be learned.

By a writer’s FAMILY.

Here are the things I think the members of a writer’s family or, frankly, anyone in their support-system should take away from this film. (Perhaps MINOR spoilers involved.)

  • Always tell the writer that their book is important, a work of genius, and that it will “change the world.” I don’t care if their book is a novel, a cookbook, or a dictionary.
  • Support the writer in any and all research they must do to write their book–everything from buying MORE books to traveling to Chicago (Thanks, Honey!) to participating in the mass slaughter of several large lobsters.
  • Be polite, tactful, and respectful as the writer works toward publication. Recognize the moment, however, when it is not only appropriate but OBLIGATORY to swear forcefully, in response to a rejection letter.
  • Learn the dance of joy, and be prepared to perform it, in tandem, with energy and enthusiasm–if necessary, in public.
  • Do the dishes.

I think this is an important movie for us ALL to take our family to. Tonight, the theater population was at least 90% women. My husband and son were kind enough to join me for my birthday outing, and they were laughing and smiling right along with me.

They were also, I’m sure, taking copious notes.

In all seriousness, go. The movie, even without the agonies and joys of Julia’s publishing path, would have been delightful. With them, it was a reminder of how hard we all have to work to “get there,” and how worthwhile it is that we are doing so.

Posted in The Writing Path, Uncategorized, Writing Projects

Sampling: Getting Started with a New Writing Form

Posted on by beckylevine

For years, I did two kinds of writing. During the day, I wrote software documentation. At night, my alter ego came out (or, too often, just went to bed), and I worked on the mystery I’d been writing for years. Then, life–with its twisty-turny surprises rearranged things, and I stopped being a technical writer and switched over to writing a middle-grade mystery.

Among other things.

I’m in my forties. It took me a while, but I finally realized that “I can’t…” and “I don’t know how to…” are not phrases I want coming out of my mouth too often. Or making their way very far into my brain. I’d rather say “sure,” at least to myself, then go off and learn something new. Like writing a picture book. And writing some biography and history for early elementary-school kids.

Which is probably why I find myself doing a lot of what I call “sampling” this year.

Sampling is what I call the start of my learning process, each time I decide to check out a new form of writing. It’s really just a fancy word for reading, but reading of a very concentrated and purposeful sort. Here are the basic steps:

  • Find out if there are specific examples of the form that you should look at.

    This usually comes into play when you’re writing for a publishers that has a set format, or reading-level, they want you to match. These biography and history books I’ve been looking at come with recommendations for books I should read, before I start writing.

  • Hit the library or bookstore and get a stack of books, either the recommended books or books that fit into the genre you’re exploring. Look for award winners and books that just catch your eye.  

    Pros and cons: The library has due dates, which can mean a structured schedule for you to follow or some hefty late fees! The bookstore costs more (unless those late fees really start to add up), but you get a few resources that you can hang onto for as long as you need and that you can refer back to as often as you need.

  • Read.

    If you’re working in a longer genre–novels or full-length memoirs, you will obviously need to do this over time. If you’re checking out some shorter forms, like me, try to set aside a chunk of time to read through all your books at once. Things like language and structure will seep into your more quickly, I believe, if you read without interruption.

  • Take some notes on the commonalities you’re seeing in the books.

    I noticed today that the biographies I was reading all started with an active sentence about the subject, things like: Daniel flung the ax into the stump. May dropped the last of the blueberries into her basket. Character and action, in an immediate scene.

    In the picture books I’ve been sampling, I’ve seen how short a time we have to set up the start of the story, and how many more words are given to the end crisis and resolution. I’ve found out that the pacing of the mini-problems each picture-book hero must face can be rapid—like a ping-pong battle, or slower—like a lilting folk song.

    When I was reading magazine articles, as research for The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide, I was amazed at how few words the author had to spare for a hook. Oh, sure, I’d been told that, but I hadn’t seen it.

Where did I first learn this technique? From a creative writing teacher? From a workshop? Nope. I started doing this when I was a new technical writer, when I had an introduction to write and had to say something clear and (hopefully) intelligent about a product I knew very little about. I went to the shelves and pulled off other manuals and read through their opening lines, focusing on what that other writer had pulled out to highlight and what they’d left out as unimportant. I scanned the length of the passages and checked out the voice the author had used.

I sampled.

I know, believe me, that a novel–a picture book, a biography, a magazine article–none of these are software manuals. And I know that truly learning a genre takes much longer than a few hours trying to pull a recognizable structure out of a few pages of words. I also know, though, that that structure is a must-learn, no matter what type of writing you’re trying out. We’re not playing copycat; we’re not working to a formula. We’re learning to get the feel of the thing, both in our brains and coming out the tips of our fingers onto the keyboard.

We’re taking one of the many necessary steps to go forward into something new.

Posted in The Writing Path

Courage

Posted on by beckylevine

It seems like, lately, I’ve been having a lot of conversations with writers–online and off–about how to deal with all the unknowns of this writing thing. In particular, Mary-Francis Makichen’s blog post “You Can’t Win if You Don’t Play” really caught me.

What unknowns am I talking about?

  • Whether your story idea is any good
  • Whether you can turn this story idea into a FINISHED book
  • If you’re even working on the right project
  • Whether that book will be good enough to get an agent or editor
  • Whether, even if that book is good enough, it will find a home
  • How long you should keep querying (see Jessica Faust’s post on this topic)

I could go on. I do believe that it isn’t only pre-published authors who deal with these questions. Yes, maybe, the belief in possibilities comes a little easier once you’ve done it before, but I don’t think it completely wipes out the worry.

You hear all sorts of ideas/opinions about how to get through or around these worries, how to keep writing despite them. Determination. Education. BIC. I’d like to add a new word to the pot.

Courage.

Yeah, I know, in some ways we have it good. We are doing something we love, playing with words, fashioning something new out of the ones we put on the page. I’m lucky–I get to spend the bulk of my day’s hours in this pursuit, sometimes in pajamas, sometimes on the couch. And, even when it’s exasperating and frustrating and confusing, there really isn’t anything else I’d pick. I think most writers feel this way.

This doesn’t mean it’s easy. One of the hardest things about writing is NOT having short-term positive feedback. Sometimes, we don’t even have long-term feedback.

It’s kind of like when Wile E. Coyote runs off the cliff. Except we’re not clueless like Wile. We actually know the cliff is there. We hope that when we step off, we’ll keep going, maybe even climb higher into the sky, but we know there’s a real risk this won’t happen. Yet we keep running.

This takes courage.

So, for today, pat yourself on the back and give yourself a treat. An extra piece of chocolate, a hot cup of tea, a new book. And then take a breath of bravery and get back to work. 🙂