Book Sales in This Economy?

Okay, so maybe you heard Houghton Mifflin is no longer acquiring manuscripts. I know, breathe. Or you read this post by Editorial (Ass)istant and you're scared your book won't catch an agent's eye or sell to any of the twenty editors to whom she's submitting. Scary stuff. But take heart, where there's a will, there most certainly, undoubtedly, is a way.


Q: Okay, I know the chances of making it as a writer have never been good, but the bad economic news I hear every day has to make my chances worse. What I need to know is whether or not there's any chance now for me. And before you tell me I need to write well, let me say that I'm no J. K. Rowling. All I ever hoped for was to be a mid-list author; I love to write and I want to make money on the side. Go ahead ladies, make my day and say there's still a chance for me or tell me to give it up. I can handle your version of the truth!

A:
Lynne Griffin
My answer contains both good news and bad news. The bad news—and the reality is—there will be fewer book deals in the coming months and years. So whether you want to hear it again or not, this means you must write well. Very well. Pen a story strong in narrative drive. Work hard to unravel the secrets of writing a novel.

Yet this reality has an up side, too. In my opinion, fewer books should be published. Being an eternal optimist, I think this economic downturn will force editors and publishers to acquire only the best books, working with talented writers who have career potential. Fewer acquisitions will mean more focused campaigns for promoting the ones they do buy. Economic concerns aside, your challenge will always be to write the best book you can. And for goodness sake, readjust your attitude. Don’t aim for midlist, hoping you’ll be offered pocket change. Aim high. Don’t settle. And of course, write well.

Amy MacKinnon
Until you want this with every fiber of your being and you're willing to dedicate nearly all of yourself to your writing, no, I don't believe you have a chance. Writing isn't about the money, it's not about dabbling here and there, and it should never be about shooting for mediocrity. It's about pouring your soul onto the page.

Lisa Marnell
Well, all I'll say is that children's books were published in the Great Depression. You've heard of the Tales of Babar, right? What about The Little Engine That Could? That's right, both of these published in the worst of times and from what I here, the news today, unemployment, etc. doesn't even come close.

Oh, by the way. I asked this question to my husband (A Marketing Man). He said simply: Publishers need product. And the piece I heard on NPR the other day said that authors like you, my friend, are now often referred to as "content providers."

And I promise you, between now and Christmas, Publishers Marketplace will annouce sales; just last week I read about an auction and a pre-empt for two children's book authors.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

Hannah Roveto
If you have characters in your head who beg to come alive, whispering to you about a set of situations that make you laugh or cry or shake with fear, and they won't leave you alone no matter what you read or hear, then read and hear us instead. Get them onto paper. Fill the edges of their world with details and beauty. You can't get published if you don't finish a manuscript, so take control of what you can. Write, and read, and study, and revise, and connect and believe.

Me? A Writer?

The confession -- or revelation -- that one writes, always prompts some kind of response from others. Is is a hobby? A career? A worthwhile pursuit? How can one know for certain?

Q) I have been writing on and off for most of my life. Nothing published, and frankly, nothing close to being published. Recent conversations with loved ones (read husband and parents) make me wonder if I am wasting my time; I spend at least three or four hours a week on my writing. How do I know if I'm just wasting my time or not?

A)

Lynne Griffin
Doing what you love is never a waste of time. Yet from your question, I’m not feeling the love. If you spend three or four hours a week writing in a journal or dabbling with a short story, and you enjoy it, great! If you’re writing with the goal of being published, I’m afraid I have to be honest. You’ve got more than an uphill battle.

The single most important character trait of successful writers is drive. Good old fashioned work ethic, coupled with passion to tell a good story. One you are certain only you can tell. Even if you’re driven, there will be times when your story has you by the throat. You will wrestle with it in your dreams, it will distract you from your day job, and you’ll find you willingly skip leisure time in favor of stealing just one more hour at the keyboard.

Writers write for all kinds of reasons, publication being only one. If you write solely for self-expression, go for it. If you want more from your writing, you’ll have to give it more of your time and energy. Some days you’ll be wrung out from giving, and still, whether it’s a day later or a week later you’ll go back to it. You won’t be able to stop yourself.

Amy MacKinnon
Wasting your time doing what? If you enjoy those three or four hours writing, then it's not a waste of time. I enjoy reading and baking, and even spend a fair amount of time doing so each week. Is that a waste? I take pleasure in each, a vastly underrated pursuit.

If, however, you're writing with the intention of getting a book published, then perhaps it's time to re-evaluate your commitment to your dream. Find your story and write it through to the end. Just that one story. Do so with intention (it will be published, it will be the best writing I'm capable of at this point, I will tell a great story with honest characters). Like everything else in life that matters -- relationships, education, career-- your writing demands a consistent investment of time and devotion.

As for your family and friends, think twice before sharing your writing life with them until you are published. In all likelihood, they perceive you as another person, not as a writer. And because they love you, they'll be quick to point out the many, many obstacles along your journey in an attempt to protect you. Your job as writer, as one who dares to dream big, is to see your way around all of the brick walls. Remember, publishing is persistence.

Lisa Marnell
You don't. End of story.

I can't tell you how many times I've had near panic attacks wondering that very same question. Although, I can almost guarantee that I've poured even more hours into my writing than you have. What helps me is to think of the alternative to writing: what else would I be doing with my time? I would spend my evenings watching either Stephen Colbert of Two and a Half-Men, or likely both (I could tape one as I watch the other).

For me writing is as much about who I am and what my dreams are than whether I will be published this year, next year, 2012 or 2020. Writing helps me love myself and I long to become. Simply put, I am a writer, published or not. If you feel at all like I do, than, frankly, do you have a choice?

Hannah Roveto
I have been a writer all my life, personally and professionally. The challenge of being a published author of fiction is its own unique beast. Ignore the others; listen only to yourself. If you want to be a published author, take writing as seriously as you have your professional career (workshops, books, network). Take it as seriously as you do your family (What to Expect, He Says She Says, playgroup wisdom, counseling). Take it as seriously as you do your garden, your decorating, your boat, your fishing, your skiiing, your tennis, your golf. There is a craft, skills that need to be acquired and practiced and polished. If you were to study for an MFA, your thesis would be "a book-length novel of publishable quality." That is your goal. The question is not when it will happen, but do you want to make it happen? If you answer yes, keep writing and revising and learning and moving ahead.

Why?

Posted by Lisa Marnell

There are different reasons we write. For some it's therapeutic (true for me). Writing fiction can help us process the injustice or cruelty we see in life (Amy?) For others, perhaps it's the joy of creating a quirky character who sets forth on a mission (a road trip, perhaps, Hannah?)Writers create worlds where family dynamics and life in general is protrayed honestly in a way that helps us make sense of our own relationships (Lynne?) This may be some of the reasons we write.

So, why do we read?

The other evening, as I approached the final chapter of the final episode of Scott Westerfeld's Uglies trilogy, the reason I read was so clear to me. It's hardly an epiphany to most of the world, I'm sure.


But I realized there are two reasons I read: one is to fall in love with strangers, to care about people that have become my friends over the course of two hundred, three hundred pages. The other reason is to be entertained; to feel my heart pound, to have to read ONE MORE PAGE before turning out the light.

Oops! I lied. There's another reason: Escape. Scott, dear author, my life has been so busy lately. I won't bore you with details... but your stories, delightful, entertaining, gripping stories were better than finding a hundred dollar bill every day for three months. Your novels were such a discovery and joy.

Oh, to write to satisfy readers!

A Pause on the Journey

by Hannah Roveto

The journey becomes so encompassing, we sometimes forget to pause and look around. Today, stop. Look around and breathe it in.

Five years ago I was known as "the writer" at work, the first to be assigned press releases and speeches and reports and executive correspondence. I walked the aisles of bookstores and libraries and ran my finger along the spines of novels I loved and ones yet to be discovered. Once I was old enough to spell, I wrote short stories, snippets of long stories. I even had friends who'd been published. Still, theirs was another world.

Then comes the moment. Enough. I cannot live another day without releasing that part of my insides that insists on taking this writing thing seriously. The notice is up on the library bulletin board: a writers' group, hosting an author. A writers' group; are you a writer, or not, Hannah? A phone call, and I am part of the group -- a dysfunctional one, but it is a declaration of intent, a physical and mental step forward. Every year, more steps, tentative and yet increasingly certain.

Five years later, I am picking up my child at that same library. A large poster promoting an author's appearance is behind us, and my daughter points with a big smile on her face as she turns to her friend's mother. "She's in the mall, too, and there's another picture downstairs with the book." This is true. The long glass-fronted bulletin board in the lower entrance features a fall author series. Amy is there, leading the way, and nearby is Hallie Ephron, whom I had the honor of interviewing for this blog.

"You know her?" asks the woman.

"She's my friend." This is not enough. Amy's gorgeous black-and-white photo nudges me. "She's in my writers' group."

A neighbor passes by at that precise moment, overhears. "Really? How's your book going?"

"I've started to query agents," I tell her. "And I'm starting a second one."

"Anita Shreve and Hannah Roveto. Quite the neighborhood." She smiles and gives me a thumbs-up. The low-slung, brown shingled house was the home of the senior Shreves, but I won't quibble.

I get home and open my child's backpack. This is the same day, I kid you not. A notice falls out; a writer and parenting expert is coming to the school complex's massive Performing Arts Center to speak. The story was in the weekly newspaper, as well, Lynne's name in bold type, her Web site -- her beautiful sea-glass site -- listed for more details on her parenting work and her fiction, coming out in April.

On my computer is a recent email, promising that a full revision of a lyrical, stunning story coming soon for my reading pleasure -- before the agent sees it. How cool is that? (That's not how Lisa described it, but her voice is so distinctive, this character and situation so compelling, it will be that!) Before I switch to my PR email, I check blogs I love, your blogs about writing and life, all names I know and voices I hear in my head from the words on a screen. I glance at the list on my desk, too. Agents names. Real agents with real offices, with notes on whom they represent, their contact information not only jotted down, but in a few cases now, used.

This is my real world, five years later. This is a journey for all of us, a unique individual journey; mine certainly has been made clearer because of Amy and Lynne and Lisa, but there is still the do-ing of it all that has unfolded within me. While it feels unreal some days, yesterday it felt crystalline solid. Where this journey will lead, I don't know, but I am moving every day deeper into that territory. When my boss says, "You're the writer, you take this," I smile. Today that has a whole different meaning. Today I really am the writer, evolving as the writer I wished I could be years ago, step by step.

A Fool's Gambit

By Amy MacKinnon
Don't mess with success. Write what you know. Stay within your genre. Focus on one project at a time.

I am a fool. I'm a scared fool. A bit of a wreck even. I'm doing everything wrong, I know this, and yet I keep doing it.

Right now, I'm writing two books. One is so dark, I'm not sure there's a market for it, though Jon Clinch assures me there is, right there alongside him and Cormac McCarthy. Have you read Finn, Blood Meridian? Brilliant books written by brilliant writers. Already I'm being warned not to go too dark, to be careful.

The other I have no business writing at all. None. It is an homage to a classic, one I've read countless times over the years, a story I know in my bones because I've lived it firsthand. But the author of the classic is a literary titan. When I told a close friend what I was attempting, he was aghast. Be careful, he said.

But it's not my job to be careful, to play it safe and write the same book over and over again. It's my duty to myself and my writing to reach beyond whatever skillset I have today, to stretch, and then follow my instincts.

Last week at Writers Read for Twain, I was talking to one of my favorites, Stewart O'Nan. He's the author of many, many books including the little gem Last Night at the Lobster. I say little, not because of the story, it's bigger than the jacket can contain, but because I doubt it's more than 40,000 words. I asked if his publisher worried that it was too short, if people along the way urged him to flesh it out. He nodded vigorously.

But you refused, I said.

Yes, he said (and I'm paraphrasing here), I believed in it.

He was right to do so. Lobster represents a return to simple elegance in storytelling. Stewart O'Nan broke all the rules and won; his book was both a commercial and literary success. He took a magnificent risk.

I hope I'll be able to say the same some day.

Forget the Numbers

by Hannah Roveto

There are approximately 6.7 billion people in the world, with somewhat more than 4.7 billion of us over the age of 15. The world literacy rate, defined as anyone over the age of 15 who can read and write is estimated at 82%. Allowing for my rough math skills, this gets us some 3.76 billion people who, in theory, could or do read books.

Next, let's look at worldwide book sales. The Bible comes in at about six billion copies, followed closely by quotations from Mao Zedong. Mao was a big seller, folks, followed by the Qur'an and then, interestingly, Charles Dickens, with A Tale of Two Cities at 200 million copies, followed by Lord Baden-Powell with Scouting for Boys. The entire Harry Potter series has sold a mere 400 million books total. Clearly, JK has a lot of sales left to go before every reader out there owns a complete set.

The fact that this is a numbers business is never far from a serious writer's thoughts. Every query explains to a potential agent not simply how wonderful a story is, but how it can be championed in the marketplace. Every agent paints a picture for publishers of the prospects for a particular title, and so on, and so on.

This makes it far too easy to ask when a particular project appears in a writer's head whether to even bother to write it. The subject matter is difficult. A protagonist character is unlikeable. Where is the audience, and will anyone care? We are told to up the stakes on one hand, to add mayhem and fear and create tension, and yet other stories are "untellable," and the ultimate damper, that nobody will buy them.

Garbage. How would you feel about a dwarfish boy who kills his best friend's mother by accident, in a story that delivers commentary on American foreign policy? (John Irving's A Prayer for Owen Meany). How can there possibly be subjects that are untouchable when there are so many authors already exploring them? Try Jesus' Son by Denis Johnson. Here is a man who feels "most alive while in the presence of another's loss," according to one review. Pick up the lyrical Bel Canto by Ann Patchett or the action adventure bestsellers of Tom Clancy, and between the pages of each you find people compelled by politics, love and honor to do their worst as well as their best. Death, murder, fear, passion, insincerity, longing, hope, honor, familial strife, redemption. It doesn't matter what we write as long as we are true not only to ourselves, but to our craft, to the art of the storytelling as well as the story.

Readers read and will do so as long as writers write well. If you can write a story in a way that carries a reader through, that is conscientious of the reader's needs and pushes at boundaries in such a such a way that the reader is willing to follow, do it. Pull out everything you know, learn what you need to and make that story come alive.

Don't worry about sales, not while you write. Consider only craft and the story. If you start to worry about numbers, then turn them on their pointy little heads. There are more than 3.3 billion people out there who -- in most cases -- have chosen not to own a single copy of Harry Potter, and still they read. Who knows: perhaps they are waiting for a book more like yours.

The Voices

Posted by Lisa Marnell

There are many voices that speak to me. They don't come from little creatures, sitting on my shoulders, helping me decide between good from evil. Besides, I don't have enough room on my shoulders to carry about the number of voices that speak to me. Perhaps I should explain.

One voice is gruff and deep like a rumble of thunder. It always says the same old thing: "Hey! Lisa! The stakes in your story aren't high enough." You, again? I complain, But I upped the stakes already! "More stakes! More!" It shouts to me day after day after day.

One voice is soothing, low-pitched female. She's less persistent. She doesn't talk to me as often and when she does, I tend to listen. "Excuse me," she whispers with the trace of a British accent. "What do you say to adding a more poignant detail in this description? And perhaps you should paint this setting more clearly." Her suggestions are fun; I could Word Paint until the cows come home.

The third voice is probably the most annoying. She speaks in a flat tone and only says five words, time and time again: "I don't get this story," she complains. What don't you get? I ask. The character's actions? The plot turns? "I don't get this story," she repeats ad nauseum. Oh, she's annoying, and she's the one that fills me with self-doubt. She's right, I tell myself. I need to change everything, absolutely everything. I must never pay attention to her.

Another voice I love. "Fantastic," it calls out to me in celebration. If this voice were a person, he'd look like Rafael Nadal. Strong. Confident. Awfully cute and definitely either Spanish like Rafael, or maybe Italian. He sings to me that it's time to celebrate! My novel is on track! It's working!

Every day, I hear these voices. Every day I must choose which voices to listen to, which to ignore. I will stay on track, tie my threads, get ready to send it to my writers' group in a few weeks time. In a way, I've won already.

Self-Talk

Posted by Lisa Marnell

Last Friday we, at the writers' group, posted our thoughts on what we've learned over the summer as September arrives today. I am in a very happy place these days as I have finished my first second draft of my YA - long story. I'm loving working to pull threads tight, word paint settings, work on dialogue (Hannah, you'll help me there, right?) As I reflect over the last year of scrapping and changing this WIP, there are many, many things that have helped me. Here is another strategy that works for me:

Make up a mantra about your writing to keep you focused and energized. Even when I am losing in a tennis match (and I'm not so good at tennis), I repeat these words in my mind: "I am fast, I am strong, I am getting better every day. " (I really do say that to myself - I can't believe I just admitted that). When it comes to my writing, I made up a mantra a month ago. It's very simple. It's this: "My story is beautiful." Whether or not my story is beautiful is something that readers will decide. What's important is that I remind myself that I care about this story and I care about these characters.

Did I just give out writing advice? Who am I to give out writing advice? My novel needs work. It will be ready for our group to read in September and there will be changes, perhaps many changes to make. Though I may not yet be published (time will tell), I am in a place where I have been successful with writing this WIP. I wrote a story I love and I am proud of. That's cool. I can't say I've been here before.

To go into the dark with a light is to know the light
To know the dark, go dark, go without sight
And find that the dark, too, blooms and sings
And is travelled by dark feet and dark ways.

Wendel Berry

Dreaming

Posted by Lisa Marnell

I was away last week - spending time in BEAUTIFUL! Santa Barbara and beyond, but I'd love to play catch-up with Friday's MLLF question: What's Cool About The Writing Life?

My answer is simple. It's cool to daydream.


Just yesterday, I was walking back from our neighborhood pool, I meandered along a series of walkways that are hidden away by stone fences and pine trees. I was so very alone. It was delightfully relaxing. And yes, of course, I was thinking about my WIP. How could I not be? That ten minute walk was time I gladly share with my characters.

What, I wondered, should be Ava's reaction when she finds out Rose is in danger again?

Just how friendly should I allow my two main characters become?

It's fun - to daydream. It's a lovely perk of being a writer. I get to be a child, to daydream, to fantasize.

Ah, did we choose writing or did writing choose us?

All for One

By Hannah Roveto

Amy MacKinnon spoke last night at her release party/first appearance/first reading of Tethered at Buttonwood Books. Friends from different points in her life were present: family, childhood, high school, college, neighborhood, and yes, from her literary career; many more who weren't able to be there in person were there in spirit. All the communities that have supported Amy through the years -- and that she has supported in turn -- were one as she stood alone, facing us.

Amy notes in her acknowledgments that writing is a solitary life, but that there are people who support a writer along the way without whom the final product would not exist. In her case, I don't believe that to be true, not completely.

Amy MacKinnon is fierce. She is gracious and intelligent and modest and devoted. And a force with which to be reckoned. Amy decides to do something and it happens. Not only that, but it happens the right way, because she will not not accept anything less. She asks questions, she involves people and makes them care, she finds out what is needed and pushes each venture forward. She makes people believe. Ask any of the people who were there last night.

Betsey Detwiler, owner of Buttonwood Books, told the crowd what a friend Amy has been to the bookstore -- a wonderful, welcoming, independent bookstore -- as did the store's events magician Totsie McGonagle. Authors -- teachers, cheerleaders, friends -- Hallie Ephron and Hank Phillippi Ryan of Jungle Red Writers drove down from Boston to share in the celebration. And as the crowd mingled later, a college friend spoke about how the roommmates in their house knew one of them would be famous some day -- and looking at Amy, she said not only is one on the way, but maybe more of them would still. Inspired, no doubt, by Amy.

Everyone there to see Amy at last in the full spotlight savored the moment when she stood alone before us. She believed she had a story to tell and found a way to tell it. She fought her way through a first chapter for six months. She found time in a crazy-busy life to get it all down, finish it, find an agent, revise it, work with a publisher, and now, to launch it into the world. The hard work is the part that is solitary, and Amy makes that happen. She has, she does, she will. Period. Everyone who knows Amy knows this moment, and every moment that is going to follow, is richly deserved.

Amy MacKinnon is fierce. She is many things to many people, and now she is a published author with a career ahead of her that will be long and sweet.

Tomorrow ...

Posted by Lisa Marnell

It's a Christmas Eve feeling today. Though tomorrow is August 12, not December 25th, I'm excited, a little nervous. Tomorrow Tethered will be in bookstores.

Tethered will be in bookstores! I read chapters from Amy's WIP so long ago. When I read the ending I sat on the bottom step of my old house in Massachusetts, cuddling with my dog, Maggie. I was en route to going to bed, but I had to read ONE MORE CHAPTER. Reading one more chapter turned into finishing the book. I loved the ending!

It's an Empty Nest feeling today. My friend's novel will be out in the world tomorrow. I'm melancholic, definitely. Times are changing for Amy, for our group. Though we are still determined to be writers, the stakes have changed and our own characters have developed in different ways. We aren't the wide-eyed wannabes we were three years ago; the writing world has its ups and downs.

Someday, I will walk into the Barnes & Noble near me, here in California, and I will see someone thumbing through the pages of Tethered. A part of me will be proud, no doubt. Yay, Amy! But is it odd that I will want to shut the book and tell them this is my friend's story? Is it insane I should want to whisper that a good, dear person I know struggled to write this gripping and touching tale and that looking at Amy's words is really none of her business? I know publishing is the goal in this business, but on some not altogether sane level, I want to buy every copy of Tethered, and keep it safe with me, I'll pile them in my study, if only for a few more days. I know readers will love this book; how could they not? The story promises such hope .

Five Remembrances

By Amy MacKinnon

I've written in this space before about the Five Remembrances of Buddha:

The Five Remembrances
1. I am of the nature to grow old. I cannot escape growing old.
2. I am of the nature to have ill-health. I cannot escape having ill-health.
3. I am of the nature to die. There is no way to escape death.
4. All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.
5. I inherit the results of my actions in body, speech and mind. My actions are the ground on which I stand.

Though I'm not a person of faith, these aphorisms appeal to my sense of perspective on the world. To some, they may appear bleak. To me, they are a way of coping with the inevitable. Acceptance is a powerful thing.

How does it all apply to this writing life of ours? When we dream of the possibilites of having our words appear in print, we may include buckets of money, best-seller status, glowing reviews in the New York Times, scads of charming notes from readers, and, if we are so bold, a place on a certain talk show host's nightstand and then her bookclub.

And so you should dream. Dream beyond all reason, but be prepared to balance out the glory with the guts of this business. Prepare yourself so you don't succumb to either the glory or the guts of this business. Seek balance. Know that you're never as good as the sycophants claim, nor are you ever as dim as the critics proclaim.

As many wonderful experiences as I've had over the past ten months, and I know just how blessed I am, I am prepared for the downside of putting myself out there. One week before publication and already people are wondering about the details of my personal life, how they measure up to the trauma of my protagonist Clara Marsh. Others will criticize the writing, the subject matter, the overall quality. I am now fair game. For someone who's spent most of her life hiding among the shadows, I expect some days the naysayers will engulf me. This is the price we pay.

So here are my Five Remembrances for Publication

1) I am of the nature to become irrelevant. I cannot escape being irrelevant.
2) I am in the business of being harshly critiqued. I will be cruelly critiqued.
3) I am of the nature to fail miserably. There will be times when I will fail.
4) My words are of the nature to be misinterpreted by those who cannot understand their intent. There is no way to prevent this.
5) I inherit the results of my actions in body, speech and mind. My actions are the ground on which I stand.

You'll notice I didn't change a word of the fifth one. No need. From this point forth, that's all I can control.

------

A big thank you to blog friend and dear, dear reader Larramie. Your post on Tethered is the most magnificent review a writer could ever dream of. I count it among the dearest gifts I've yet received.

Happy launch day, Kristy Kiernan! You know her as the author of Catching Genius, but her second novel, Matters of Faith, is out today and you will love it. It's already an IndieBound pick for September. If you haven't pre-ordered it, I urge you to run out to your local indepedent bookstore today and grab one for yourself and another for your best friend.

Refrigerator Poetry Life

by Hannah Roveto

Life gets crazy, yes? There are points in time when every aspect of existence pulls at once, every one and every thing needs attention. The small things fill your time, however, and the big things get put off for a day or two. You push them off, and they pile up, and one day they join forces and you can ignore them no longer.

Girl bicycle gears orthodontist pay thousand lost office reorganize pitch client additional release edit novel bingo excitement file letter state due house overflow costume buy... the sound of need is constant, overlapping, and grows louder and louder.

I want my mind to hear only one thing right now: my WIP. I am so close, so close. I want to be working on it non-stop, yet when I sit, something else calls me. Fifteen minutes here, thirty there is all I can seem to manage despite the fact that writing most rejuvenates me, excites and replenishes me. Leaving it is wrenching, and choosing which of the dozens of needs to address instead of it becomes more difficult. The sheer volume of real demands against my desire to be writing almost paralyzes me. Things fall behind, and yet life plunges forward -- rides, meals, activities, phone calls -- and I teeter at the top of the wave, about to go under.

My sister-in-law's refrigerator provides an answer. Waiting for my children to finish the morning routine for their vacationing cousins' elderly cat and five guinea pigs, I stare at photos in magnetic frames and surrounding them, pieces of refrigerator magnet poetry. Most of the words are in neat lines marching across the surface. At eye level is a pool of space with a few words floating. One is upside down: goals. I search the single words and find achieve. And there, heart. Borrowing only one piece from another thought, I create the following:

Achieve the goals of your heart.

That Gift of Time I wanted to give myself this summer? Gift, shmift. Clearly I'm going to have to steal it. Returning home, I let the kids watch television ("Mom's breaking the rules!") and invoke the Rule Of Two. If you can get two Big Things done and behind you, life is good.

I do one task start-to-finish before launching off in the car. Home again hours later, I do another, and only that. So what if none of the other big demands are addressed? The two most pressing are off my list. Amidst the daily routine and summer hubbub, I am going to knock another two off my list in the next twelve hours. Those four should keep the wolves at bay and tomorrow, I will make the first of my two Big Things my WIP, day after day after day. I can -- and will -- meet my goal, on my self-imposed timeline.

Life gets crazy, plain and simple. Demands press against you, threaten to knock you over. Never fear. The answer comes in focusing on the goals of your heart.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Posted by Lisa Marnell

I'm editing final chapters of my second first draft. Huh?

Let me explain. Last year I completed a draft of my YA work in progress, sent it to my writer's group, discussed it with them, and realized it had a FATAL FLAW: Rose, my young protagonist, was telling her mother's story, not hers.

It happens.

I was sitting in the study of our rental house, reflecting on feedback, suggestions for changing the ending of my novel, when I came to terms with the fact that I had to change more than the ending. I pretty much killed that story, poor thing. It's changed hugely, hopefully improved, and I see the light at the end of the tunnel now.

Last week I blogged about the 10,000 hours it takes to master a skill. The theory is that we need to practice and work at something for 10,000 hours to become good at it. This is not always the case, but how many authors who are "overnight successes" have been writing for years and have at least one novel in that bottom desk drawer. I know, I know, there are exceptions; some first attempts at novels are shoved far under the bed, toward the bedroom wall.

I am excited and happy at this point in my writing life. The light at the end of the tunnel draws me a step closer to it each day. Seeing the successes and inevitable success of my writing friends (those whose tenacity drives them to get up and dust themselves off with each and every writing disappointment) tells me my goal is within reach. I keep on keeping on. And so should you.

Besides, writing is really fun!

The Learning Curve

Posted by Lisa Marnell

There is a learning curve when acquiring skill. It is said a person reaches a level of expertise when they have completed 10, 000 hours of practice. No matter the endeavor…

Piano Playing

Tennis

Thai Chi

Underwater Basket Weaving

I’m convinced this holds for writing fiction as well.

Four years ago, I decided to write fiction. I hadn’t heard of the term “story arc”; when it was mentioned in a seminar at my first Muse & the Marketplace conference in Boston, I pictured the Wizard of Oz and the tune Somewhere Over the Rainbow bopped in my head. Character development meant nothing to me. Plot, I got. But subplot? What’s that? I’ve come a long way. All of us at the Writers’ Group have come a long way.

In reading recent work by one of our members – last night we all agreed that the quality of her prose is astounding - there was a time when I simply had to stop reading. Over the course of three pages, the beauty, the cadence, the imagery of her writing simply overwhelmed me. I sat and I breathed and savored the moment. She’s honed her skills in the four years I’ve known her. When her book is published, it will be such a delight to those unsuspecting readers. I am so so proud of her. So inspired by her, as well.

Damn, she’s clever!

Assuming a person writes an hour a day, seven days a week for four years (what I’ve done give or take), she will have completed a whopping 1,456 hours. There’s still a few hours to go before reaching that magical 10, 000 hours. Bummer! I’ve still got a way to go.

My point here is that writing skills evolve over time. Though sometimes four years or six years or fifteen years feels like a long time to be working on a book, it’s time well spent. It’s time spent learning. It’s the money in the bank, deposited day by day.

That’s reality. That’s the writing life.

Enjoy!

Hmmmm...

Posted by Lisa Marnell

Okay, I changed my mind since Friday's Blog. If I could be anything, I would be a professional tennis player. The travel, the excitement, the attention. And with Wimbledon starting today! Yup, pro tennis player. That's the ticket.

Oops, I changed my mind again. Any of you reading this who know me, really know me, would believe I'm not joking. I'm not! Thirty seconds ago I wanted to be a professional tennis player, but I don't want to anymore. It might be too stressful. I mean, screwing up, choking, is one thing in the privacy of my small world. But choking in front of a crowd of thousands - not for me.

I have a point. And it has to do with writing. Plotting, specifically.

I find plotting a challenge. Not for lack of ideas, necessarily, but for sticking with one idea, one theme over the course of months of writing. When a novel idea comes, a writer must give consider it. Then, there is a choice one makes. The option is to either push it aside (none of us want to have a novel with too many subplots; it may ramble and at the end threads may not be tied). The other option is to embrace it. How many writers say that they started with one idea or a couple important characters, but the Russian hockey player (for instance) that was working as a waiter in the New York hotel just TOOK OVER. It happens all the time.

Now, being an indecisive person, I have decided to change my personality, stick to my guns, and commit myself to ONE THEME, ONE PREMISE.

We'll see.

Rose, dear Rose. You clever and tragic and mixed up main character. I will finish your story. I promise!

by Hannah Roveto

A friend sent me a YouTube video yesterday, you know the kind, that has been mass emailed by people all over the world for months and months. In it was footage of tiny Connie Talbot, who came close to winning Britain's Got Talent last year (Simon Cowell's U.K. TV talent competition). Maybe you've seen it, maybe not. I often delete these things, but then again, I check chain emails claiming to serve some altruistic purpose against urbanlegends.com.

I was moved to tears by Connie. I admit to being in a particularly schmaltzy mood these days, but my thoughts afterward reflected more, I hope, than a bad case of over-sentimentality. Three ideas that have made me smile for the past 24 hours:

One: When someone has real talent, it will be noticed. Some creative people ignore the bubbling sound from within, even for years, as the path it leads to might be (a) impractical, (b) insufficient for bill-paying purposes and/or (c) put one in a position to be critiqued and criticized publicly. If you are known around the gray cubicles or in volunteer subcommittees as "the writer," then everyone is telling you something you need to hear and do something about.

Two: If it comes from a pure place, there is power. You can want something with your whole heart, but you have to want it for the right reasons. To be famous is not a reason. To make money is not a reason. To do it because you love to do it, because you do it in your sleep, because you are miserable when you can't do it, now there's a reason. There is a pure place deep inside you, and if you cultivate it -- the trick to it all -- you will succeed.

Three: Sometimes it is better to be older. A postscript on Connie's story, for anyone feeling equally schmaltzy who links to her performance, is that Cowell's record company came back to the Talbots and told them they believe in the future of this little girl, but that she is too young to launch a real career in the music industry. Kudos to them for having the backbone not to turn a six-year-old into immediate paychecks. There were other companies less ethical, but I hope the Talbots heard the full message and understand that bright lights and applause are frosting on a grindingly hard and brutal industry. Sometimes maturity -- of the artist, not those around her or him -- is truly essential equipment in tackling a dream.

Bottom line: If you want to fly over the rainbow, ask yourself, do you have the wings for it? If yes, then do you have the strength for it, or the willingness to build up that strength? And if yes again, well, get out there and fly. Start low but head high. You don't ever be the one to be stuck on the ground at the end of the day wondering why, then, oh why, didn't I.

Pitches, Pens, and Preferences

Posted by Lynne Griffin

Musing on the posts this week on capturing your story in a pitch, being true to yourself as an artist, and preferred work habits, I saw a theme, a common thread. Everything comes down to a matter of taste.

You can write the snazziest pitch ever, but if one of the main characters is a ghost, a cowboy, or a dog, I probably won't be stepping up to the register to plunk down my debit card for a hardcover. Now I'm not saying there's anything wrong with ghosts, cowboys or dogs, I'm just not that into them, so I rarely choose to read stories about them.

I enjoyed reading Amy's post about Alicia Keys's philanthropic work, and I admire her integrity as an artist. But I don't particularly care for the kind of music she sings. This is more my style.

Quality pens and fine paper are marvelous for writing charming notes, leaving messages for family, or thanking supportive friends, and I love a beautiful journal, but I prefer to write fiction on a computer. (I agree whole-heartedly with Hannah about the frustrations of working with technology.)

Before you write to convince me I should love cowboys, R & B, and writing long hand, consider your own preferences. I'm not terribly stubborn about mine, but I accept them. It doesn't mean I can't be swayed to read something I ordinarily wouldn't, when it's suggested to me by a reader I respect.**

It's merely an issue of preference. In my opinion, if all writers and readers were identical, there would be no art. There wouldn't be any reason to discuss literature; we wouldn't bother to read to think or learn new ways of seeing the world. Here's the thing--I know some people will love my novel and some won't. I can long for stellar reviews and a wildfire of word-of-mouth, but at the end of the day, I know some won't connect with my artistry. I hope reviewers will get what I tried to accomplish, and of course, I want them to recommend it. I'd love to hear readers tell other readers LIFE WITHOUT SUMMER is a must read. Yet just as I have preferences, I need to respect the preferences of readers, knowing my novel isn't for everyone.

Here's another of my preferences: I chose to be positive. I'm not expending a lot of energy on those who won't care for my kind of story. Instead I'm doing my best to connect with readers looking for upmarket fiction about family, forgiveness and the struggle to find hope in healing. My marketing and publicity efforts are targeted and crafted to find my readers. People who want what I have to offer. I know they're out there. It's my job to find them.

**Novels I love about ghosts:
Portrait of Jennie by Robert Nathan
Eva Moves the Furniture by Margot Livesey

**Novels I love about cowboys:
Peace Like a River by Leif Enger
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid by William Goldman

**Novels I love about dogs:
Dogs of Babel by Carolyn Parkhurst
Lassie Come Home by Eric Knight

Maybe You're Just Molting

by Hannah Roveto

I might be identifying too closely with my son's hermit crabs. Why I shouldn't is clear: they are very low on the evolutionary scale, although I feel that way at times. They are scary looking; first thing in the morning I might come close to their appearance. Like today, for example, when I was woken up at 5:30 because one of the crabs was in the water dish naked.

The initial concern was that it was dead. No, quite the reverse. The crabs are molting. They've been sloughing off their exoskeletons, hiding for days down in the gravel with only their painted shells peeking up into the light. (Smaller Dean had Spiderman on his back, Crabby a more mature and elegant metallic green.)

During this time they peel themselves out and are at their most vulnerable. Thanks to Crabby's foray into the (empty) water dish to refresh himself with water held in the sponge, we now know their back ends look like oversized grubs with small claw-like legs sticking out, the better to hold onto their shells once they get back inside. Ugh. Their front ends look like miniature crabs, yes, but without those formidable and surprisingly strong pincers we have all come to respect. Our cat stared past the chicken wire screen longingly, inches away from a tender, defenseless treat. Why do the crabs put themselves at such risk? Simple: they will die if they don't.

I was going to blog today about why some writers take so darn long to become writers. I read something recently in which an author noted she came to the art of writing as an adult. In interviews for this blog's Author Spotlight series, Hallie Ephron said she took on fiction once her children were grown and she became unafraid of what her creative family might think of her efforts. Mameve Medwed said she was a short story writer until a good friend told her to write a novel; she said she was petrified, went at it "kicking and screaming."

Jonathan Franzen, speaking at Grub Street's Muse and the Marketplace, said he believes many great writers are women who come to it later in life, or at least, not straight out of college or grad school. He said women have other things in their lives that demand attention; once women start to focus more on themselves than on the external in their lives, they find their writers' voices. I think this is true -- and applies to some men, too.

Some writers need time, whether it is to experience enough to generate a full story, or to overcome the terror of putting ourselves out there. The transformation does not take place overnight; it takes time, agonizing months and years. We know what we are about to do, and that knowledge alone could stop us in our tracks. But it doesn't. Maybe we don't really have a choice. So we pick at our old selves, get uncomfortable with the shell we have wrapped around our soft cores. We burrow and peel that shell off, a dangerous, delicate operation. We develop the courage to walk around exposed, if need be, as we form a new way to present ourselves to the world: a bigger, stronger, better us. Molting is important to humans, but perhaps it is required of writers -- at any stage. It's scary and exciting and dangerous and essential to our beings.

(Update: Dean seems to be back in his original shell, although burrowing again, and Crabby is out of the water dish and checking out an upgrade to a larger soccer-motif number. The cat is sleeping in another room.)

How to Live Forever

by Hannah Roveto

A blog is a conversation, and we here at The Writers' Group are polite if sometimes pointed in our conversations. We don't discuss religion or politics or money, even as they relate to writing. Until now.

I have a question for you and I want you to take this quite seriously:

Do you believe in reincarnation?

Yes, I really want to know. Do you believe you will come back to another life, that the world or God or gods have made this not just a one-way trip, but a cyclical experience?

If you do not believe, the next paragraph is for you. If you do believe, please drop down two. Thank you.

If you do not beieve in reincarnation, this is it. You are living it here and now. And if you read this blog, you are truly living it, or at least ready to take steps to make it happen. If we truly only go around once, nothing matters more than living your purpose. Care for your loved ones, even when they roll their eyes at you. Eat and enjoy. So what if bathing suit season is around the corner? Dairy Twist is open for the season, with its hand-lettered signs and 43 ice creams and cherry dip and the Pepto-Bismol pink antique car out front. One small cone won't hurt. And write. Make a little time every day to write. What are you waiting for?

If you do believe in reincarnation, here's the flip side of the coin. If we are reincarnated, there is something we are supposed to learn from this life, yes? We are supposed to challenge ourselves, learn about ourselves, improve and inch closer toward a true clarity of being. There is a reason for writing. No matter what words come from the pen or printer, they demanded introspection about what you need, what others need in their lives. At leaat, this time around.

If you are here on Earth with a need to write, follow what your soul says it must do. Do you have a choice? Of course. You can let time slip by, let other pressures push the writing aside. Doing nothing is a choice. But think of it this way. Whether you're here once or again, there is a reason you are compelled to write. Listen to that voice.

Stand up, stretch, peer out the window at what I hope is a beautiful day where you are, take a deep breath and sit back down, close out Blogger, and write. Enjoy. It is one way for certain to live most in the moment, and one way you will, no doubt, live forever.

(With thanks, I confess, to Jesse Ventura. Yes, Jesse Ventura, who is on a book tour. After seeing Stephen Colbert and Donnie Deutsch both interview him, I haven't the darndest idea what his book is about. However, when asked what motivated him to be a Navy Seal, then a wrestler, then a Governor, and now a writer, he said: "I can't get my head wrapped around the idea of reincarnation. I don't want to be seventy and say woulda-coulda-shoulda. I want to say, I did this, I did that." And by the way, his publisher overrode him on his book cover.)