I tell hopeful, wannabe writers all the time, when they ask that marvelously optimistic question, “what’s the secret to being a writer?” It’s a deceptively simple question, because the answer…well, I give the same answer no matter who’s asking, but the expectations differ from person to person. I suspect most want to know what the “trick” is, like there’s a gimmick, a magician’s sleight of hand, a way around the essential thing, which is hard damn work.
But I tell them all: persistence. Those who never make it are those who quit.
Obviously this begs a few questions. What if they have no talent? What if what they’re writing has no audience? What if they’re subliterate? What if they don’t like to read? (This last, while apparently absurd on its face, is nevertheless a more common fact than you might believe—aspiring writers who don’t read. I’ve met ’em, talked to ’em. It’s like a photographer saying he doesn’t like looking at photographs.)
All of that varies, though. The one single element that binds them all together in their quest is persistence. Persist and you will find out. But if you don’t persist, you may never know.
This is what I do. I persist. I refuse to give up. Granted, I have a bit more reason to be optimistic than most, since I have actually published, but that’s no guarantee that you will continue to do so. The market is a fey beast, fickle and heartless, and has crushed the souls of many a writer before. But, smart as I am, I’m an idiot when it comes to this, and it seems to finally be paying off a bit.
I have signed with the Donald Maass Literary Agency. This is a fairly big event for me. I’ve been shopping for a new agent for a long time. This one finally paid off. (My thanks go out to Scott Phillips, who introduced me to the obviously talented Stacia Decker, who then introduced me to the talented Jen Udden, and my thanks to both for taking a chance on my potential.) My last published novel was Remains, back in 2005—almost six years now.
This is not a sale. But this moves me closer to getting back into print than I was three months ago. Both Jen and Stacia have gone over my work, made substantive editorial recommendations, and allowed me to move forward on these books.
I feel very lucky right now.
But also, I have a lot of work to do. I have already rewritten my alternate history, Orleans, per Jen’s recommendations, and she’s beginning work on the marketing strategy. This morning I talked over The Spanish Bride with Stacia and will set to work on the revisions of that novel in the next couple of days.
I have no problem admitting that I need editorial input. And I like it. When someone who knows what they’re doing tells me “You should fix that” and I see what they mean, I’m delighted. (This has changed over the years. Once, all it got from me was a howl of pain—“but I already wrote that one! I want to move on!“ But persistence teaches you through experience. If it doesn’t, you should find a different career.) With good recommendations in hand, I can make a better book.
So anyway, the bottom line here is that if I am less prolific here in the next few weeks or months, it’s because I’m working. I will update as developments occur.
What’s really funny is that it takes just as much hard work and persistence to be good at “magician’s sleight of hand” as it does to be a writer (I do both).
Congrats on the signing. I really enjoy reading your blogs!
Go and work hard, Mark (so I can have more to read)! This is the only honest answer a compulsive reader can give to an author.
Persistence is mine in other matters; but not for writing. (I can “talk” in print, like this, but I can’t compose large works. My ideas don’t hang together and I don’t “care” enough. My hat is always off to those who DO care enough. I know that in part because my talent lies in another direction. I can’t write, but I have a talent for rewriting. After 30 years as a proof-reader and copy editor (the field was el-hi textbooks, but the skills don’t depend upon the publishing field), I know that I am skillful in taking a murky sentence, rewriting it in the feedback to the author as “did you mean to say this, or did you mean that?” (Often the answer is “Neither; I meant this other.” The clarity of the author’s rewriting comes from my skill; the author’s work comes from the author’s skill.
So I know I can’t write. But I read compulsively and voraciously. Thank you for helping keep me supplied with things to read.
Sue
Mark-
Great news! I only got to this–I’ve been busy and distracted.
Persistence is all. Sometimes it feels like pounding your forehead against the wall. All you can hope is that your forehead will heal, and the wall will crack open. I do it every day, despite the manifest lack of reward. I am pleased that you do too.
Alex
Thanks, all.
Alex, the wall is just about wide enough open for me to slip a few fingers through, but the pounding in my skull is beginning to recede—the river-delta pattern on my forehead, however, may never entirely fade. For the time being, the best part is I can work on the writing without worrying constantly about the rest. For the time being.