There it was, filling my mailbox--the oversized envelope
addressed in my own handwriting.
Hands trembling, I opened it. My book manuscript, tattered
and bound with a rubber band, greeted me.
The editor, a twenty-something girl scarcely older than my
own daughter, had included a scathing rejection letter. Cliched
characters was the kindest of her comments.
"Good luck in placing your manuscript elsewhere," she added,
an editorial euphemism for "don't bother us again." The not-so-
subtle suggestion that I might want to find another line of work
followed.
I cried like a baby. Then I sulked. For a solid week, I
moped about the house, certain that my writing career was over
before it had even begun.
Approximately ten days later, an idea appeared in my mind.
It clawed at me, demanding release.
Resolutely I ignored it.
After all, hadn't I been told by a publishing professional that I
had no talent and would do better to spend my energies elsewhere?
Characters began talking to me. I refused to listen.
Obviously annoyed with me, they talked to themselves, carrying on
conversations inside my head. Family and friends began to give
me strange looks when I found myself talking back to them.
Despite my resolve to put aside my dream of writing, I
couldn't control the voices inside my head which demanded
attention.
I caved.
I started recording the words of the obnoxious characters
who refused to fade into wherever they had sprang from, just to
get them off my back.
They kept talking. I kept writing. Within six months, I
had a completed book.
I'd like to report a happy ending, that I sent the book off
to a major publisher and it was accepted within days. The truth
was I mailed the manuscript to several publishers before finally
placing it at a small house.
Three long years passed before I sold another book. I honed
my craft, collected rejections, and ate chocolate. Despite the
rejections, or maybe because of them, I discovered something
along the way: I was a writer.
Twenty-three books later, I'm still writing. My name
remains relatively unknown and my advances won't support the
early retirement I dream of.
Is it worth it? A recent rejection set off the all too-
familiar doubts. Why should I keep writing when my track record
is depressingly mediocre?
My answer came when I found myself back the computer,
bleeding over another story. I couldn't stop writing, even if I
wanted to.
My advice to aspiring writers? If you can stop writing, do
so. There are other, less painful ways of expressing yourself
and making a living. But, if you can't stop writing, if the
words persist in coming, if uninvited characters occupy your mind
and your thoughts, then go for it!
You are a writer.
Six Techniques For Making Writing a Part of Your Life
- Make writing a priority.
It all comes down to choice. Writing or any other behavior
has to come, without question, ahead of some other things in
your life.
- Make a commitment to your writing.
Focus on your outcome. (Visualize yourself opening a
magazine and reading your story, signing a book contract,
picking up a copy of your book from a store's bookshelf.)
Remember why you want it, and what specific action you have
to take to achieve it.
- Do it for you.
It's all right to be selfish (sometimes) and put yourself
first. Develop and hone the fine art of saying "no" when
you are asked to be the chairperson for the next "Save the
Aardvark" committee.
- Go through the motions even if it feels strange at first.
Any change is hard. Just keep doing it. It takes around
two to three weeks to solidify a commitment and around four
months to form a habit. Your aim is to make writing a
habit--so just keep doing it.
- Do it everyday (if possible).
Writing a shorter time everyday will build the habit more
effectively than a longer writing time one day a week.
- Have a schedule.
Writing regularly at a specified time each day establishes a
pattern, and this is essential to building a habit.
Determine the time of day when you are most creative and set
it aside for your writing. Do the business chores of
writing--sending out query letters, bookkeeping, publicity--
during your "off" hours.
