It’s not been a great year for me so far,
writing-wise. I’m not talking about my published books, because they've been fantastic—it’s
wonderful to see the books on the e-shelves and selling, and even nicer to have
royalty checks coming through on a regular basis, even if some of them are only
cents!
But in terms of moving forward in my career,
it’s not been easy. And the main reason? I’ve had to adapt to being an author,
instead of a writer. Or at least, an author as well as a writer.
What’s the difference? Well, a writer writes in
the comfort of his/her own home without thinking of anything but the world he
or she is creating. An author writes—it seems—for everyone but his/herself.
Several other writers have agreed that it’s
not uncommon to have a writing “sophomore” year, which for those who
aren’t American means the second year following the excitement and success of
the first year when our writing takes off. I found myself today comparing
writing to childbirth—there are lots of things other writers don't tell you,
because if you knew everything, there's no way you'd go through with it! It’s
certainly been a steep learning curve for me, and has led to some awkward
revelations…
Basically, it doesn’t get any easier. None of it. Not
the waiting, not the submitting, and most of all, not the actual writing. In
fact, it gets harder, in my experience anyway.
The waiting’s harder because there’s more
at stake now—I feel pressured (by myself, if nobody else) to produce quality
work regularly, whereas before it didn’t matter if everything I wrote got
rejected—nobody cared except me and my poor husband who had to cope with my
weeping and wailing.
Submitting is harder, because before it
didn’t matter if I was rejected or got something wrong. I’d just send the book
out again to a new publisher or agent. But although it’s great to be with
several publishers, I can’t keep submitting to
new ones. I want to establish working relationships with the ones I’m with, not
keep broadening out indefinitely. But what if a book is rejected by all the publishers
I’m with? And what if I’m supposed to submit a manuscript by a certain time,
and when they read it, they don’t like it? I’m more nervous about submitting
now, because again, the stakes are higher.
And the writing itself is also soooo much
harder. Mainly because now I know where I went wrong for so many years. Of
course that’s a good thing, but it also means that whereas before I just wrote
and wrote and wrote until my hands ached, now I write a sentence and then sit
and ponder it and ask myself: does it have filter words? Passive tense? Does it
start the same way as the previous sentence? Have an echo/favourite word? Is
there an extraneous adverb I can take out? I know I shouldn’t do this as I
write—I should write the first draft unfiltered and edit later. But it’s just
not happening like that. Ultimately, it means I’m writing better. In the short
term, it means the days of producing 4 or 5,000 words or more a day are
probably behind me in exchange for 1-2,000 words of hopefully higher quality. Which
I suppose in the long run doesn’t make a difference in terms of output, and it's not bad at all, and lots of people would like that sort of output. But for me, it’s harder. It just is.
Other revelations I’ve had are:
A published author still gets rejections.
And they still suck.
A published author still has to write
synopses. And they still suck.
Once the book’s written and you’ve typed
“The End”, it’s like getting the first contractions in labour:
unfortunately the birth is only just beginning. Firstly there are copy
edits—usually at least three rounds. Then line edits (and don’t get me started on
the serial comma). Then galley proofs. You have to go through your book with a
fine toothcomb a dozen times until you’re absolutely sick of those characters
you used to love and your plot seems full of holes and completely lacking in
conflict. All of it requires much banging of head on desk and gnashing of
teeth. Edits are hard. Really hard, for me
anyway. I polish and I polish and I polish, and then my work comes back covered
in red from tracked changes and I think jeez, WTF? Why do I bother? (This isn't a criticism of my editors, btw. My work needs to be edited. I just don't like it because it makes me feel like I'm a crap writer. That's my fault, not theirs.) Also, some
editors are harder than others, which I find interesting and confusing in equal
measure. I like one set of rules. I’m very basic. But, for example, some editors let me use the odd filter word or passive
tense when it fits, others cross out every use of the word “was” or “felt”. It can be house
style or the editor’s own preferences. But it makes it hard when you’re writing
for more than one editor or publisher.
You have to think about your cover. What do
you want on it? It’s not just about what you like—it's about what’s going to sell. I don’t
think it’s a coincidence that Kiss & Make Up hasn’t sold quite as well as
the Entangled Indulgence books that have a more bare-skin, “beachy” feel. The
book has a Goodreads average rating of 4.60 - the best of all my books. All but one of the ratings are
four or five stars. It's received glowing reviews--lots of them. Readers love it. And it's selling, but not as well as some of the other Indulgences. Part of it's the lack of a strong trope which is necessary in a category market, and some of it, I'm sure, is the cover. I like the couple on the cover - they are very like how I envisioned the characters. But are they sexy enough?
 |
| More bare skin needed? |
Should you have bare skin on the cover or not? At the
beginning I stressed to the artists that I didn’t want bare skin—now I’m saying
give me more! And what if the artist produces a draft cover and you don’t like
it—the heroine’s got the wrong hair colour, or there’s too much/ not enough
bare flesh, the hero’s not your type of guy at all, or there’s an odd pose. Do
you say anything and run the risk of offending the artist?
You get reviews. Some are good and provide a wonderful boost to the ego. Honestly, there’s nothing like getting a
four or five star review where someone says they’ve loved reading your work.
That’s what it’s all about, in the end, and I read mine over and over again,
even though I promise myself I’m not going to look at them. But what if you get
a bad review? A one or two star, where someone just didn’t “get” your work or
hated your characters? I’ve been very lucky so far and not had any horrendous,
soul-destroying reviews, but I know writers who have (and who don’t deserve
them IMHO), and it’s completely thrown them and destroyed their
self-confidence. I know it’ll happen to me one day. I’m not looking forward to
it.
You have to publicise your work. Gah! That
does NOT come easy to most writers, who tend to be introverted, on the whole.
You’re expected to have a website and a blog—which is fine if you are computer
savvy or have the money to pay for someone to do it for you, but difficult if
you don’t know your http from your html and are struggling to make ends meet.
You’re also expected to have a presence on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, and a hundred other social networking sites, to comment on others’
blogs, to keep up to date with publishing information, to read widely around
the genre—and this is as well as finding the time to write the next damn book.
I have to confess, I suck at most of this.
I’m crap at Twitter—I’m not witty, snarky or anecdotal and can never think of
anything amusing to say, plus most of the world is awake when I’m asleep. I
don’t have the time to read other people’s blogs as much as I’d like. I don’t
have much time to read many books in general, which means I struggle to take
part in discussions on Goodreads etc. I’ve tried a few social sites but get lost in the forums like a kid separated from his mum at the zoo. And to top it all, I’m easily
intimidated, which means I regularly suffer from terrible self-confidence
problems which make me back off from the internet and crawl into a hole that I
have to be teased out of like a whelk from a shell.
Angela James from Carina Press suggested at the
RWNZ Conference to pick one social networking forum you feel comfortable with,
whether that’s Twitter or Facebook or blogging, and concentrate on that, which
I thought was great advice. I’ve settled on Facebook (with the odd blog post), as that works for me.
Sharing myself with the world doesn’t come naturally, but I can cope with
posting a few sentences of my WIP or the odd thought or picture, and flicking
through and liking other writer’s posts without having to comment every time—it’s
quick and easy when I don't have much time for social networking. Interestingly, although I don’t get a huge number of comments
on Facebook or my blog and often feel like I’m talking to myself, recently I’ve
had several people say they’ve been watching my progress via these platforms.
I’m beginning to realise that even if people don’t comment, it doesn’t mean the
publicity work I’m doing isn’t getting noticed.
Anyway, I’m waffling. But I just thought it
was time to explain to those out there who’ve wondered where I’ve been that I’m
still here, and still writing, but the sophomore wave almost knocked me off my
feet, and I’ve been struggling to keep my balance.
Hopefully the rest of you who write won’t have this
problem, and will sail on (continuing with the wave metaphor) into your second
and subsequent years happily and without this hiccup. But if you are
struggling, rest assured you’re not alone. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not
that successful writers don’t have problems, but that successful writers are
the ones who are able to pick themselves up after bad reviews, hard edits and
rejections. They continue to get their stories on paper, even though every word
hurts and it takes them a week to pluck up the courage to press the send button
on the next submission. They create more worlds in their heads, even though one reviewer's commented that their work sucks and on no account should anyone ever buy anything from this author. They smile to the world when they get a two star review, even though indoors they may bawl their eyes out.
And if it’s happening to you, keep soldiering on. Look
at your name on those covers and pat yourself on the back, because not everyone
can do it, and certainly not everyone can keep doing it.
And if you’re unpublished as yet, like with
childbirth, ignore everything I’ve said and just push on—nobody will mind if
you swear when the going gets tough, and when you hold that baby in your arms,
it’ll all seem worthwhile.
And if in doubt, ask for drugs.
Don’t quote me on that.
Serenity x
