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.

Making a Literary Life: Who Inspires You?

This week, a couple of us at the Writers' Group shared how musicians inspire us. In their talent, drive and heart, they show us how they followed their dream. This week, we want to share how others - non-writers - inspire us. Tell us who inspires you.

Lisa Marnell
For me, it has to be athletes, and it barely matters what sport it is. In the last winter Olympics, there was a Russian skater whose story brought me to tears. And what about Justine Henning, the champion tennis player from Belgium who recently retired. When she was fourteen she went to a tennis match with her mom and promised her mom that she would play at that level some day. Her mom never lived to see Justine win a Grand Slam.

Amy MacKinnon
John Walsh inspires me. When his son Adam was abducted and later found ed, Mr. Walsh didn't crumble they way most of us would. Instead, he gathered whatever reserves he had and devoted his life to helping abused children by co-founding the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children and producing and hosting America's Most Wanted. One man, one man shouldering the most excruciating burden, and he has helped change the world for thousands of people.

Hannah Roveto
I am most inspired by regular people who rise above whatever is going on in their lives with integrity, dignity and compassion. Friends, neighbors, relatives. Randy Pausch, the professor who has become famous for his Last Lecture is inspirational, and not for the reasons you might think at first. He was a regular guy handling everyday adversity with strength and humor at inspirational levels, only few people knew that. His diagnosis put him in the spotlight; certainly, he continues to deal with the most difficult hand that can be dealt with grace. However, it's his successes along the way, showing how a can-do approach and sense of humor deliver real rewards, that is his most inspirational -- and generous -- message to other everyday people. He shows us how to take what we get and get what we need: joy.

Lynne Griffin
I was surprised when this topic left me bewildered. It wasn't easy to come up with a person or group of people who inspire me. Certainly there's the parent I've been working with, who has two children with special needs; I admire her patience and fortitude. There's the gifted teacher I met fifteen years ago and will never forget; she knows just how to motivate each and every student who walks into her classroom. I thought about my own parents, grandparents, & friends. But I just couldn't come up with one person. It seems I draw my inspiration from ordinary people doing extraordinary things. The people who live the paradoxical commandments. People who, in the face of insurmountable challenges, persevere anyway.

Being Critiqued

By Amy MacKinnon

It didn't go well.

Weeks ago, I submitted the first two chapters of my WIP to my writers' group. It was my turn to be critiqued, and truth be told, I was a wreck. I was at a crossroads and badly needed these pages to be good. Having my first book, Tethered, well-received by publishing types should have been all the reassurance I needed. But we are writers and we are required to prove our merit anew (to the world, but more important to ourselves) with each subsequent story.

The other issue at hand was I'd just finished reading the sophmore effort of a writer whose first book was brilliant. This second book was a disappointment. It read too much like his debut, even the characters had the same voice, inflections, physicality. I didn't want to write another version of Tethered so I stetched beyond my abilities. This work-in-progess of mine could not be first person, there would be no present tense, there would be multiple points-of-view and even an omniscient narrator. It was a struggle.

My writers' group was kind, of course. First, they spoke of the good contained within my pages and then told me all that wasn't working: too much backstory plunked in here; slow down the action there; be careful to tread lightly with the visuals in this section; and, no, that nickname doesn't work at all. They were kind and they were honest.

Afterward, I thought I had shown them too much too soon. For me. I was feeling fragile and uncertain, I should have waited. Perhaps this story wasn't what I should be writing. It was hard.

From time to time, I'd open up the document and re-read what I had. Should I proceed? I started another. I liked it very much, it would be a joy to write. Almost easy because I'm so close to it. The research will be a cinch. There is no ease to the research with my WIP. My book is based on actual events, a horror the world turned its back to, but one I can't forget. Reading, and oh my God watching, what mothers and fathers, what young children had to endure left me devastated. I should let go of the story, I thought.

But it wouldn't let go of me.

What I didn't realize (and you may find this difficult to believe) was that each time I reviewed my WIP, I revised it. It seemed too little to meet the demands of my writers' group -- they have very high standards expressed in the kindest possible terms. A tweak here, deleting a paragraph there, punching up dialogue all around moved it forward, though I was certain it wasn't enough.

Last night, they critiqued those same pages. Their hard work and mine was rewarded; they deemed the work up to par. After they finished with their feedback, Lisa asked if the last time had been too much, too critical. I told her it was, that I hadn't been ready to hear all they had to say so early on in the project. But Lynne disagreed. She said that while I may have felt that way, the revision proved otherwise. Hannah agreed the proof was on the page.

I don't know how some writers do it, how they work without the support of others who know what it is to labor and second-guess and obsess over every word on the page. To wonder if the work is good enough and not receive an answer.

Last night felt exactly like the very first time I presented the first two chapters of Tethered to Hannah, Lisa, and Lynne. I was elated and reassurred that I was on the right path. More than that I was grateful to know I have these three extraordinary women in my life.

Shockers

Posted by Lisa Marnell

Call it your drop shot: a slice in tennis that falls just over the net and surprises your opponent, surprises you too: you nailed it.

Risk. In all endeavors, such as singing or sports, taking risks is what separates the champions from the also-rans.

I've been watching the local Grand Slam, Pacific Life tournament, and that's what I noticed. The great players take the risky shots; it's true they don't always come up winners, but when they do...


Here...

is a photo of the desert very close to where the tournament is taking place. There is sand covered in shrub and Joshua Trees as far as the eye can see. This handful of palm trees was planted, it seems, they aren't actually endemic to this area. But they fit so well.

I had to take this photo while at the tennis tournament because elements here didn't jive, but they fit together so beautifully. Snow? In the desert. Tons of it in the mountain. Surreal and breathtaking. And the wind! OMG! Do you SEE how those those green tops of the trees are being blown? That, too, fits but doesn't fit.


Shockers. Surprises. They are one of the delights we have as readers. Part of the joy in turning the page and gasping at a novel turn of events is that we didn't see it coming, but of course; they make such sense.

Making a Literary Life: Gaze into My Crystal Ball

So often in life, we move forward with heads bowed, not really paying attention to where it is we're going. Our goals are short term: two pages today, finish the manuscript, get an agent, sell the book. We become caught in the monotony, the drudgery of daily habits. Take a moment, think about what you want from your writing, where you want it to bring you and what you want to bring to it. Let time stretch before you, consider what you may be like ten years from now, twenty. What is your literary life?

Lisa Lowry

I would like to be an author that puts a smile on the face of that girl that sits friendless in the middle school cafeteria. I want to tell that boy with the pimples - such awful skin! - that he won't be a teenager forever. Someday he may be called Doctor. Could he graduate from Harvard Law School? I want to write books children and teens pull out from under their pillows at night, to read just one more chapter before they dream their dreams. I hope to write books with the message that kids aren't alone, even when they are so very lonely.

Amy McEwan

What I would like people to say twenty years from now is that the books I write don't fit neatly into any genre. They're almost literary -- but not. There are suspenseful elements -- and yet. They have wide commercial appeal -- still. I don't want to be labeled. Not now, not ever. Best of all, I would know my life had a purpose if somehow one of my books touched someone, reassured them when they needed it most. That would be a dream come true.

Hannah Lipman

I want people to reach for my books confident they will immerse themselves in a story that entertains them in this too-hectic world, that makes them laugh, that introduces them to people they enjoy (even if they wouldn't want to live next door to some), and that maybe slides in an observation or two about the world. I, too, seek constant improvement, so that each book is fresh, each tale a new ride that someone looks forward to taking with me, no matter where the Muse leads.

Lynne Quindlen
I want readers to reach for my books because they know they'll find fresh details and new insight into family life. When the people you love or want to love, confuse you, distance themselves from you or view the world in ways foreign to you, I want my writing to shed light on the intricacies of the human mind and heart. I want to write honest books about love, marriage, raising children and finding hope in the dark moments. To have readers say my fiction is smart, compelling and difficult to put down--that's my dream.

Random Thoughts (Or Message to My Younger Self)

By Amy MacKinnon

Some of the best writing is done waiting in line.

Writing isn't brain surgery, no one will die if you don't do it. Well, some of us might.

"I have been through some terrible things in my life, some of which are true." -- Mark Twain.

Sometimes the only thing that gets me through the day is chocolate.

There's a difference between being a writer and being an author. Most days I prefer being a writer.

Labels belong on bookstore shelves. Not books.

A story is only as engaging as it characters.

Even Shakespeare had a plot. Yes, I'm talking to you.

We are writers, we avoid cliches like the plague, but, really, this writing life is a rollercoaster complete with highs and lows.

No one cares about your excuses, nor should you.

Be flexible.

When it comes to bringing your work into the world, you need to feel everything for it to come alive.

When it comes to sending your work out into the world, you need to feel nothing so as to survive.

It's not your baby. Really.

Virginia Woolf was right about a room of one's own.

Thomas Edison was right too.

Try.

Try again.

And again.

Harder this time.

You'll do it.

Some days, the words won't come, but the doubt cozies up, beds right down, and stays awhile.

This too shall pass.

Each day I try to be a better writer. Some days I succeed.

It's important to remember Lynne's sage advice: We each have our own journey. For better of worse, another's is not mine.

Bitterness is ugly. Jealousy too. Especially when it's staring you down in the mirror.

Be grateful.

Don't settle.

Have goals. Always.

Inspire.

Yeah, it's hard. But it's not life or death.

Sometimes, though, it really does feel that way.

Staying True

By Amy

After I finish writing this, I intend to print it out and tuck it away in my Tethered binder. Hannah gave me the idea for the binder about a year ago as a way to organize both my thoughts and voluminous amounts of paper. Contained within the plastic covers are: various drafts of the manuscript; all correspondence having to do with what I hoped would someday become a book; and a title page slipped through the plastic cover with a black and white photo of daisies. I indulged myself with that one.

Next, I'll place this in it. It's a promise to myself to stay true to my writing. Not to let external pressures influence what should be an internal experience. How many times have we said to ourselves and each other, his earlier work was so much better. I think what happens with a lot of authors is they begin writing with an eye toward the market, and the passion, what initally compelled the reader to fall in love, falls by the wayside.

So here are my goals for my future self:

- I will always trust my gut. This applies to all areas of my life and has so far served me well in both my writing life and beyond. Unless you've proven otherwise, this is good advice for each of us.

- I will not write for a deadline. Though this is something others can do with aplomb, I know myself well enough not to try. The moment I write with a date in mind, I will write for it instead of for the story.

- I will allow the story as much time as it needs. I sometimes grow frustrated with myself because I don't write quickly. Some days, just a good paragraph, others an entire page and a half. Though twice I've written entire chapters in just a single morning -- chapters that remain largely untouched -- I must be patient with myself and the story. It will come in time.

- I will listen to all who voice an opinion, but no voice will be louder than my own. It is ultimately my story, one I need to stand behind with vigor and confidence. I must believe in it and shape it honestly. Yes, I will listen and take what rings true, but I must remain faithful at all times to the story.

- I will write the best book I can at this point in my life. Years from now, I'm sure I'll look back on Tethered and think of ways to improve upon it. No point in that, is there? I haven't yet become that person. All I can do is the best I can do today.

- I won't read my reviews. Many will disagree with me on this point, but hear me out. To what end? If they're horrible, it will devastate me and if they're glowing, it might paralyze me. Could I learn from a terrible review? It depends. There are few book editors whose opinions I know and trust. I can name them on three fingers. If one of them hated my book, I would be crushed to bits and then how to pick-up the pieces? If it were a reviewer I'm not familiar with, then there's no established trust. Worse would be a fabulous review. It's a fool's folly to believe one's own press. And save me from the middle-of-the-road reviews; mediocrity is the bane of my existence and to be labelled as such would plunge me into an existential funk. Understand now?

- I will work with the best editor available. Having had the opportunity to be edited by a variety of newspaper editors, I know how invaluable a good editor is -- not only to the work itself, but to the psyche. A good editor pushes and pulls forth the very best from a writer, all the while giving encouragement. It's fun and the work is so much better for it. A poor editor dictates and bullies, undermining the writer's confidence in the work. This scenario leaves the author embarassed by the work once it's in print. I allowed that to happen once, years ago. Never again.

- It's not about the money. No matter how much is on the table, if you don't respect the people offering, if the editorial suggestions don't ring true, if the enthusiasm is geared more toward sales than it is toward a passion for the work, then walk away. The price is too high. I've been poor most of my life, I can live with it. I'm pretty sure I can't live with bankrupting my literary aspirations.

- The only competition is my best self. About a month ago, a book in my genre with a striking hook sold at auction in a major deal and then some. Worse, it's due out the same month as my novel. I'll be honest, for a few days I was obsessed with it. And then I realized, not only was I powerless over it, but it didn't make me any less pleased with my own situation. There's nothing I would trade with that author: not my agent, not my editor, definitely not my book. Though others may see our novels as competing titles, I don't. As Lynne always says, each will have its own journey. I wish that author the best of luck.

- Be kind. It's a small world, as is my place in it. Be gracious to everyone, thankful to those who help, and helpful to those who need it.

Hopefully I will remain faithful to these goals, though I imagine I will stumble along the way. Some will be harder to aspire to, others will remain easy. Will I stay true? We shall see.

The Stories

By Amy

My agent asked what I was working on next. When I told her it's another dark, wrenching novel, she kind of laughed and wondered why I was interested in telling such stories.

Readers expect a writer's characters to be autobiographical, that the protagonist's experiences are the writer's own. I suppose for many people that's true, but not for me. My life has been blessed. I've never had a lot of money, never belonged to the popular clique or was considered a beauty, but I was born into a large family with loving parents. I've had good health more or less, and all of the rights and opportunites afforded an American. For that, I've always felt I was a forunate one. But that's not true for everyone.

I am a news hound. Each day I read 3-5 newspapers with NPR streaming in the background. Neither vampires nor anti-christs, dinosaurs nor aliens terrify me. People do. We humans inflict great horror upon one another. I am haunted by visions of what befell Nick Berg, Erica Green, Charles Falkenberg, an unidentified Hutu mother -- too many more to name. People are capable of incalcuable evil, maybe we all are, I hope not. I write what I do because I need to find a way to -- if not make sense of it, how can anyone do that? -- rewrite another's fate.

A friend of mine is struggling with the direction of her WIP. She knows the dark corners she needs to explore, but it can be a challenge to one's psyche to forge on. As writers, we must expose our rawest nerves to find the honesty. Still, we do it to be true to the story. And while life doesn't always have a satisfying resolution, at least we can give that to our beloved protagonists if we want. We can find comfort knowing we get to control the ending.

If only we could in life, too.

Write Now

By Amy

Time is not on our side. Each passing day takes with it an opportunity. The chance to be or become or strive for a life that currently exists only within our imaginations; that chance to become our true selves slips away by degrees with each sunset.

Though not a religious or spiritual person, I find enormous comfort in the Five Remembrances of Buddha, especially "I am of the nature to die. There is no way to escape death." Why? Does it seem morose? Well, I am a morose person I suppose, but it inspires an urgency to accomplish.

I know of several people who've been working on their novels for years, some as long as a decade. While a few of these people have had enormous success, others modest, still others will never see their labors of love published. We all know this is a fickle business, wonderful manuscripts are declined by agents and editors everyday. Some go on to make it, most do not. The fact is, you don't have the luxury of time.

I was speaking with a friend recently and she told me of her pressing deadlines imposed by her publishing house. I began hyperventilating on her behalf while she appeared completely serene. She'd worked hard at her craft for years and wasn't about to let time prevent the culmination of her dream from being realized. Therese Fowler understands this. She wrote Souvenir in 7 months, and now it's slated to be Ballantine's lead title for February 2008. Focus, choose, act.

So what will it be? Will you spend today catering to the needs of everyone else around you? Surfing various blogs and online gossip columns, instead of your manuscript? Will you allow the drudgery of work and home, the pressure of debt enslave your precious hours? Or will you decide that today everything else must step aside in favor of your writing. I know what it is to be caught in that fugue, truly I do. But don't allow it to overcome you, to lull you into believing you have time.

You don't.

The Passion

By Amy

My daughter called me over to the television the other night. Her favorite author was being interviewed, discussing what it was to finish the series of books that had taken her 10 years to complete. Her books have been credited with invigorating the publishing industry, inspiring a generation of children to read -- and perhaps write--, and making the author one of the richest women in the UK.

I haven't yet read her books, blasphemy I know, so I started to walk away when the interviewer asked the author who she wrote for, the readers? The author's answer was profound. No, she said, for the story. Her vast audience may have wanted some to survive, others to die, but the author said she needed to write to suit the story first and foremost. I took a seat. Then the interviewer asked if she intended to continue writing. Many people watching probably expected her to say no, that her well of creativity had run dry or that she wanted to take some time to enjoy her excessive wealth. Instead, the author said she was already writing another book. She said it was a privilege to write without the expectation of publication.

Think about that for a minute.

I was talking to a friend yesterday and her book is already creating buzz in publishing circles. Her story is the dream many writers have while toiling away, alone, wondering if what they're creating has any merit. My friend's work was sent out on a Friday, and by Monday the offers started pouring into her agent. An auction ensued, trips to New York, meetings with her editor, the publisher, art department. Then the big news, hers would be the lead title. Who among us hasn't wanted to step into that glass slipper? I told my friend about the interview with the author, about the privilege of writing. She agreed. For all of the excitement of getting published, it's the euphoria writing inspires that moves us to our desks each morning. As badly as I want to write a book that will stand on the front table of every bookstore in America and across Europe, what I want more is to continue to enjoy the sheer ecstasy of emerging from my study, knowing I've just composed the best sentence I could.

I simply want to write.

By Amy

If you're in an existential state and you've not yet read Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach, don't. Or do.

I read it with the intention of immersing myself in only the story. I planned to finish -- it's only an afternoon's commitment -- and then promptly re-read it to wallow in his language. It's easy to do, Mr. McEwan is deft enough to make the strings fall away. I'd left time enough in my battered schedule to go back, that is until I reached the last page and was stopped. Minutes passed one into the next until they became hours, each moment wasted -- or not. Where's the time to think anymore? It was a single line that was the sum of the two hundred odd pages, at least for me: This is how the entire course of a life can be changed -- by doing nothing.

We've read the same sentiment a thousand times, but because I'm currently in the aforementioned existential state, it struck me to the core. Doing nothing is a choice just as much as doing something.

How many writers do you know who are plagued by inaction? Their complaints a litany of doing nothing: not enough time to write, too afraid to submit their work, indecisive about leaving an ineffectual agent, etcetera.

And then there are the ones who choose to create their opportunities. They choose again and again to make their work matter, first to themselves, then to anyone who will listen. They battle along against self-doubt and group-doubt, the fractured road to publication and then relevance. They choose to be heard and experienced and read.

Today, take a moment, choose to live outside of yourself for a bit, and then ask that person you're regarding, What do you choose to be the course of your life?

Truth and Revision

Posted by Lynne

He is cliches of beauty. Tall, dark and handsome. My soulmate; he understands me or least he's always willing to try. But those are not the reasons I adore my husband. It's because I can count on him to always tell the truth. In the beginning his truthfulness was applied to skirts that accentuated post-pregnancy hips. Or first attempts at complicated recipes gone wrong. Now he tells it like it is about my writing.

I would be blessed beyond measure if I only had Tom's honesty when it comes to my work, but I'm fortunate enough to have a cadre of trusted readers. Amy, Lisa and Hannah are the most generous--and forthright--writers I know. No sugar coating, no gratuitous compliments, though no critique for the sake of boosting their own egos, either. For them, it's all about making the work better, encouraging each of us to grow as a writer.

Along with Tom, Amy, Lisa and Hannah, I have another special reader, let's call her E.

Back in January, thrilled I'd been capable of polishing a first draft of my novel, I sent it off to E. I was naively hopeful. Her first words to me after reading it were, "You asked me to be honest, so I am going to be. It isn't there yet."

Yes, I'd asked for honesty. I honestly wanted you to love it, I thought. What in goodness name do I do with, it isn't there yet. Couldn't this person I trusted tell me where it was supposed to go; I would willingly take it there if only I knew. She gave minimal suggestions, some that felt true to the story, some that did not. With the support of my other trusted readers--chiefly Tom and my writers' group--I shouldered the blow, and got to the job of revising.

I submerged myself in classes, books on revision, and the chair I sit in to write. I'd often ask Tom if he was okay with me, going to that place. If you're a writer, you know the one I'm talking about. The place where you're connected to people you adore who don't exist, to places you love but can't touch. Whether I spent an hour there or twelve, Tom kept saying, "I believe you have to tell this story."

I'd love to end this post by telling you my revisions are complete and my manuscript will be published. The news I received this week was good, but not that good. The truth is I finished a third draft and sent it to my trusted reader E. Her first words to me this time were, "Revision is a wonderful thing." She said my story has come alive.

Her earlier honesty was hard to hear, though truly her words were a gift. My story wouldn't be the story it is now if she hadn't had the courage to tell me the truth. I wouldn't have pushed the story, or myself.

Like a ball of yarn, truth and revision are intertwined. Pull at the knot with honesty, free the tangle with revision, only to come upon a new knot. Anyone who's tackled it knows, it's by no means an easy thing to do--you need the truth to do it.