Dear O'Abby: My Writing Career is Going Nowhere. Should I Quit?

Dear O'Abby,

I'm a published author with three novels out and over twenty novellas and pieces of short fiction published in anthologies and literary journals.  Yet my last royalty cheque from my publisher was for $16.  My total earnings across all these publications is less than $400.

Now, I never thought I'd earn a living writing fiction, but I've spent way more than that $400 on publicity and marketing, copies of my own books to give to libraries, advertising and just paying the electricity bill so I can keep writing.  At what point should a writer give up this gig as a bad investment?  I'd probably make more baking cupcakes and selling them on the street.

Do you have any advice?  Should I quit and find something else to do with my spare time?  

Yours,

Disheartened.

Dear Disheartened,

I hear you.  I can be discouraging when you spend all those years polishing your words until they shine and then it seems like no one reads them.

At the end of the day, it really has to come down to why you write.  If you're writing to make a living, then the return you're getting isn't working for you.  But that's the case for most writers, even ones that seem wildly successful.  There are very few writers out there who are supporting themselves on their writing income alone.  And certainly not those with families to support.

If you write because you have something to say, stories burning to get out of your head and onto the page, that's different.  Not all writing has to be for publication.  Sometimes it's fun to write something just for yourself without the pressure of thinking about your audience.

I write because it's the way I make sense of the world.   It's how I explore different facets of humanity and the different ways people react to events and emotions.  If that writing turns into something I can publish, then so be it.  But it's not the reason I sit down to write.

Whether or not you quit is up to you.  Yes, there are other ways to spend your spare time.  But would those other things be as rewarding to you?  Would they give you the same sense of achievement?

Maybe try it out.  I love to bake and often feel as much joy when completing a batch of cinnamon buns or cupcakes as I do when I type 'the end' on a manuscript.  Maybe your spare time would be better spent with confectioners sugar and a piping bag.  Maybe that will make you happier (and potentially richer).

But you're not going to know until you try.

Best,

O'Abby

Why a Day Off Can Make You a Better Writer

I once read an article about how the CEO of a large company takes a day just to think, maybe walk, do low-impact activities, but mostly think. There are many articles like this, and I think more creatives should follow the pattern.

As writers, our 'work' is more like play and it's a lot of fun, but it's also a lot of concentration, planning, brainstorming, and you know, work. Since I entered the online writing community, I kept hearing the same advice about how writers succeed. Write. Write everyday. Write on the toilet. Write in your sleep. Eat, sleep, and breathe writing. Only then will you become a good writer. But not all advice works for all writers, and not all writers can write everyday.

Whether you're in the 'write everyday' camp or the 'write when I can steal a moment' camp, we can all agree on one thing: we need downtime. You can't write every moment, and you shouldn't. You need time to recharge, to stir up those brilliant ideas that keep the words flowing. You need time to read other writers' books. Even your dream job can cause burn-out if it's all you do.

Vacations from writing are okay. Taking a few weeks to read, to paint, do pottery, travel, and do anything else is fine as long as you can spare the time. If you're on a deadline, you might only be able to afford a day or even a few hours, but you should take it. Make time for thought and reflection, for turning over those plot problems and looking at them from all angles.

Most of our writing problems aren't solved by writing. Considering a scene, talking out a character concept with a friend, and stepping away from the keyboard awhile can help us avoid a lot of pitfalls in our final draft. We need to grant ourselves 'free' days to gain perspective.

Schedule yourself so your free day feels like a treat. If all your days are free days it won't seem so special, and you'll waste it. (Writing days are not free days.)

During your free day, do fun things, relax, but be sure to think productively over what the rest of your week will be like. (Hudson's Productive Thinking model might help with that) Inspire yourself with art, books, music, and especially your own project. Get yourself motivated so when you go back to the keyboard, you're ready to work. It'll be easier when you do.

So, give yourself a day off. Relax, have fun, but most of all, think.

Affirmation is my Albatross

We all know that writing is a long waiting game, whether you're yet to be agented or published, on submission, or awaiting reviews for your published work.

In these stages, it's common to look for sources of affirmation. I'm lucky to have a group of people who support me when things get challenging, but sometimes, affirmation becomes my albatross. I get so consumed with the external--what people think, and confirmation that I'm doing all right--that it's easy to get desperate when affirmation doesn't come my way.

Unfortunately, this makes me look a bit like John Cleese in the beginning of this Monty Python YouTube clip (language NSFW).



And here are some other reasons why having affirmation as my albatross is a bad idea (the fact that John Cleese has his around his neck is probably no accident):

1. I look desperate. ("Alllbaatrosss!")

2. It's extremely unsatisfying. ("I haven't got any choc ices, I just have this albatross.")

3. Sometimes I get defensive. ("Don't you oppress me, mate!")

3. And at the end of it, I'm still left with a gigantic bird that weighs down my psyche. ("Of course you don't get f*#king wafers with it!")

So here's what I'm going to try. I'm going to look within, and find what matters in my bones, no matter whether the affirmation comes or not. Namely, I'm going to ask myself the following:

1. What are five things I've accomplished?

2. What am I most proud of?

3. What do I value most?

4. What keeps me going when things get tough?

Often, when I answer these, I find I'm further along than I thought. Plus, it helps me keep focused on the writing itself (a great source of internal affirmation). With these tools, I'm optimistic that I can eventually drop my albatross for good.

So what about you? What is your albatross? In what ways does external affirmation (or conversely, disavowal) affect your writing life?

When Windows is your biggest window

The first 8 years of my marriage were lived out in rentals, mostly apartment rentals. There was one little colonial house with a frosty basement and pokey stairs, the kind you trip down when pregnant. Being home with kids in apartments in a one-car family situation, I often felt like a shut-in. It was a good day if I took my tinies to the park, their recreation center classes, or on a nature walk. We did a lot of fun things INSIDE, but my anxiety over handling the dangers of California roads/traffic, strangers, and wild-kids-who-don't-listen often kept me inside.

Feeling cut off from the world by my circumstances, I reached out to the online community to socialize with distant family, stay abreast of the news, and cultivate my writing talent. I found so much support, plenty of avenues for stretching out as a person. I wouldn't say it was a limiting experience, but I wouldn't call it rich, either. Truth be told, I spent too much time on the computer, whether writing, reading for others, blogging, or perusing the news.

When we moved recently and bought our first house, in the country of all places, something changed pretty drastically. I had WINDOWS! Lots of them, facing the light and the mountains and the sight of my kids playing in the backyard! Suddenly I spent less time on the computer. Feeling safer in our little community, I ventured out more, joined a co-op, discovered the library programs, and put my kids in swimming lessons. I talked to people face to face. At first it was scary, coming out of my protective shell. I worried about saying the wrong thing (common for me), losing one of my wayward children, or damaging public property (I have all boys). With some early successes, I felt encouraged, and just plain got out more! About this time, my husband and I got smart phones, which let us have our "Windows away from Windows," so to speak. I could check my email, communicate with distant family, read books via the kindle app, and do flashcards with my kids, all away from the computer. (Of all the inventions that have helped stay-at-home moms--the vacuum, the blender, the crock pot, the sticky note--the smart phone may have been the most liberating for me personally.)

When I approach writing today, as a liberated person, I don't do it feverishly or constantly. I do it purposefully. In fact, everything I do these days is done on purpose. I feel freer to act rather than to be acted upon.

And though I write less than I did before, I believe what I do write has a richness that was missing before. Maybe let's call it SUNLIGHT.

Source

Please share your own experiences in the comments. Each path is so richly different, and this has only been mine.

Lemonade from Lemons: Filling the creative well during rough periods

I really liked Abby's recent post, Evolution of a Snowman, because it gibes with how I've been feeling lately too. She's right in that it can be easy to feel negative when things get a little rougher than usual. And it's especially daunting when real life stuff gets in the way of creativity and writing.

With everything going on, I neglected my other blog, The Writer Librarian, until last week, when I posted this writing contest. Entries so far? 0. The problem, I think, was not only the long radio silence on my end, but also the time constraints resulting in a lack of publicity--I even forgot to put a Twitter post about it, which is my usual go-to for that sort of thing.

This has taught me that even when I don't get as much writing/editing/creative time that I like, every experience adds to my creative pool, whether I realize it or not. And not only can I tap into it later, it helps me grow, both as a writer, and as a person.

An even better example was a slightly bizarre library question I got through chat the other day. I didn't save the transcript, but the basic gist was this:

Library User: Hi, I'm looking for leadership skills used by domestic violence perpetrators.

Me (significant pause): You mean leadership skills used by domestic violence victims?

Library User: No, not victims. Perpetrators.

Me (incredulous): You mean abusers?

Library User: Sure, that will work.

Some time later after some significant searching and head scratching...

Me (unable to hide snark): Uhrm, I'm not finding anything. Do perpetrators actually have meetings now? I'm not familiar with your field.

Library User: It must not be that common. If you can find it, I'm also interested in the tools perpetrators might bring to meetings.

What I didn't say: What, like knives?

Me (what I said instead): The only articles I'm finding are ones that discuss leadership skills used by social workers and counselors. Is that what you're looking for?

Special Library User: Hmm. I guess that will work--I'm a social work major.

It's obvious my user thought "perpetrator" meant "counselor," and my only regret is that I didn't see the interaction with their instructor when they figured this out. Luckily, this will be going into my ever-growing file of weird library stories, and even though it was a challenge to deal with, it's something I can utilize later on.

So for those battling rougher terrain than usual (there seem to be a lot of us lately!) take heart. It's not all lemons, and you can use these things to your advantage later, whether in writing, or in life. So kick your feet up, drink that lemonade, and enjoy.

Cut Out For This: A Tribute to My Hero

I like the success stories about men and women in their late seventies who sit down and write their first book, getting it published through careful planning and tenacity. 

I had a great English teacher who published her first novel in 1984 and then taught thousands of students how to write before she took up novel-writing again in the new century. When she finally finished her latest novel (really polished it), she spent a solid month working on her query letter and nabbed an agent in a week. From there, it sold quickly, as if she were an old pro at this getting published thing. 

In the meantime, she had overseen and edited the high school literary magazine for years, written countless recommendation letters to colleges and scholarship committees, proctored countless exams, and worn out countless red pens. She lived and breathed storytelling. I love that. 

Occasionally I look around me at the other mom-writers who somehow manage to squeeze more out of their time in the day than I do, that somehow manage to write GREAT fiction that I love to read and promote, and I think, Maybe I'm just not cut out for this.

That's when I think of Mrs. McDonnell. To be honest, I don't know how old Mrs. McDonnell was when she published her first book, or this more recent one. I was raised never to ask a woman's age. :) I just know that when it happened, I felt inspired. I realized that it's never too late, and that no amount of time spent breathing storytelling is wasted time.

So in tribute to Mrs. McDonnell, I'm highlighting her newest book, published by Delacorte Books for Young Readers first in 2008, then again in 2010.

Goodreads  Amazon

SEVENTEEN-YEAR-OLD ANNE ALWAYS thought her mother was kind of quirky. In fact, her mom’s taste in 70s-esque furniture and mysterious frequent business trips were just the tip of the quirky iceberg. When her mom doesn’t come home on time from one of her long jaunts, Anne isn’t too surprised. But when a day late turns into a few days late, Anne knows something is very wrong. 

She tries the hotel number that her mother left her, but it has been disconnected. Then a strange man keeps leaving messages on their answering machine, looking for a woman who doesn’t even live there. However, when Anne discovers a lengthy letter from her mother explaining why she has disappeared, the fabric of Anne’s relatively normal life is torn to pieces. Despite her shock, Anne must pull herself together and protect herself—from people who want to find and hurt her mother, and the strange new boy who may change everything.

Writing Unplugged

I’ve been “unplugged” for a month now and my to-do list is 300 miles away. It’s stressful being so out of touch with the world and my normal routine, but it’s been a learning experience too. Life is slow and constant and focused; such a huge contrast from the hectic, crisis-management mode I tend to be in at home. It’s not like we’re not super busy, we’re working or playing by the first light of dawn and crashing hard when the sun goes down.

I think the difference is that I’m not being pulled in a million directions. I usually take pride in my ability to do many things at once, but now I’m seeing the benefits of focusing on one thing at a time. I make an effort to get up extra early for dedicated writing time, and without Internet, the time is used quite efficiently. It's amazing how much I can get done when I’m not so easily distracted. 

And another odd thing I’ve discovered, when I’m done with a bit of writing, I’m done. I don’t linger on various scenes throughout the day, or replay conversations between characters, or dwell on how to blend sub-plots. A few days ago I realized my WIP didn’t cross my mind all day, and it didn't mean I've lost interest in working on it. I'm ready to dive in every morning.

So this summer, I’m seeing proof that I don’t have to be obsessed with my writing at all times to keep up the momentum. I can devote 100% of my attention to the day’s major and minor events without the guilt of neglecting my characters, and I know I’m not going to lose that driving dedication just because I’m thoroughly invested (and enjoying) something unrelated. I just hope that in the fall, I can remember how relaxing it is to have a less cluttered, more focused mind, and how efficient my writing can be if I’m not multi-tasking at the same time (like checking email or reconfiguring the mental to-do list). 

So I think that’ll be my new goal when I get back home: to gradually increase my unplugged, focused, dedicated writing time from the current 45 minutes to at least a few hours. Makes me happy just thinking about it.:-)

Enjoy the summer while it lasts! Whether it be relaxing with a book or challenging your physical and mental limitations.

Inciting Incidents: You can take the girl out of the suburbs...

We're moving farther into the city tomorrow. It was set before the election in response to what has become the economic reality for many people.

Inciting incident: Rising costs across the board. Gas prices in CA are crazy right now. That makes food costs more expensive, as well, which we can definitely feel in the tightening of our belts. And the renewal letter we got from our apartment manager proposed raising our rent by $200/month. At that moment, it was clinched. We had to move.

The adventure or quest novel always begins this way. Something happens. It can be a gradual build-up, but often it happens all at once--something that changes everything. For your hero, it should color everything gray. It should make the need to change inevitable.

And, as Donald Maass says in Writing the Breakout Novel, it should be gut-wrenching. He calls it "gut emotional appeal," but whatever you call it, it should be like a punch in the chest to your character, something so tangible your reader is reeling from the sympathy pains.

I don't think I've ever written an inciting incident so powerful, but I can tell you that I'm living one right now. And it's something I'll take with me into my writing going forward. Because my family of five is now on a quest, to make the city our new home.

A suburban girl who really prefers the open skies of Arizona and the open breezes of the southern Utah red rocks is going to be living in a tri-level attached to a hundred other tri-levels. I'm a character in my own story, and I know this is going to change me because... how could it not?

I have a lot of worries. Thanks to the economy, theft is on the rise. Youth unemployment has led to a rise in teen gangs just walking the streets looking for trouble. I'm reading every day in the news about random acts of violence that seem to have no real motive other than boredom combined with evil. As a mom, I keep these stories in my worry-chamber, storing them up so I'll be prepared for anything. But you can never prepare for everything.

My oldest is only five, but those of you who write YA could easily write me in as the mother who worries too much and tends toward the dramatic. Or I could be Bella, leaving her home with nothing but a tiny cactus to take Arizona with her to the rainiest place in the country.

Change is powerful. A change of location, the introduction of a stranger, or a group of strangers, the loss of someone beloved -- it's transforming.

What's the catalyst in your adventure? Does it break your character's heart? Break it. Because the path toward wholeness is the whole story.

In Terms of Joy

About a year ago I wrote In Terms of Pain while in bed recovering from a head-on collision. It's on my mind because something crazy miraculous happened on the anniversary of my accident...


This:

This is Ben.


On June 16, 2011, a car accident jolted my world, shifted my paradigm, brought me face to face with mine and my family's mortality, and refocused my priorities.

Six days ago, June 16, 2012, Ben came into my arms, all waxy and newbornish, and brought me face to face with... pure gratitude.


I'm a writer because life is beautiful and painful and unexpected and I can't let the beautiful, painful, unexpected moments pass without celebrating, or honoring, them. In my fiction, I try to make up lovely symmetries that move people, like the incredible bursts of light that happen after we suffer through darkness, or the heroic sacrifice of one life that makes possible the birth of another.

But the truth is that these bits of balance and symmetry only move people because they are rooted in the human experience. We've all experienced these symmetries, or you might say coincidences, that are just too perfect not to notice. They make us stop what we're doing and see, really see, the world around us -- sometimes for the first time, sometimes after a long time.

So what do I see when I look at these two life-altering events dated coincidentally a year apart?

One whole year of LIFE. 

365 reasons to be thankful. (Don't worry, I'm not going to list them all. :)


I only want to share this one moment with you:


My mind settles slowly back into my body. With the final fury of instinct past, I'm completely blank, like an angel has pressed my restart button. Donna tells me, "Look at your baby, Katrina. He's looking at you."

And I remember where I am - what I've just done.

I look down at the baby in my arms. Here's Ben. He's absolutely perfect, I'm convinced of it. I can't look away. His tiny dark eyes watch me in the dim morning light. I take his long fingers and wrap them around my finger. Then he lets out a cry. Just one, like he's testing it out. We go back to inspecting each other. I've given birth twice already, but I've never had this moment before. It's monumental, this sudden and unexpected calm. I could stay in the water forever, just touching his silk cheeks, watching him breathe. "What do you think?" my husband asks. "Does he look like a Benjamin?"

"Oh, yeah," I say, coming back to the world around me. "Yeah, he does."

Ben starts to cry again, and all I want to do is hold him close, kiss his face, and teach him to smile.

I Hope You Dance!

TGIF! This weekend remember that living makes for better writing. So when you get the choice to sit it out or dance...

 
Songwriters: Sanders, Mark D.; Sillers, Tia;

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth making

Don't let some hell-bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder)
I hope you dance
(Where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

Dance
I hope you dance
(Dance)
I hope you dance
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder)
I hope you dance
(Where those years have gone)

Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder
(Dance)
Where those years have gone
(Dance)


And then come back and bring that sense of wonder with the world to everything you write. Happy Weekend!

Be happy with where you are

I cannot believe it's Friday again (which is why I'm posting in the evening rather than this morning when I was supposed to). :)

December has got to be the fastest month in the history of the calendar. As soon as December 1st arrives, I get this rushing sensation like hanging onto the bar of a convertible jeep on the freeway. Yeah, it's that fast!

After the fast writing marathon of November, December is usually break month for a lot of writers and agents - a time to focus on family and the warmth-inspiring holidays.

To be honest, I've been taking a break from writing for a while now. I haven't really gotten back into it since my accident in June. I'm all better now from that, but the writing splendor I was enjoying daily prior just hasn't returned. Maybe it's because I needed some time to let my survival soak in. My husband told me the guys at the impound lot, or junk yard or wherever they take cars to die, took one look at the non-existent front of the car and asked wide-eyed what happened to the driver. I don't take my survival for granted. My kids and I are still here because of angels. So that's something that has taken a lot of processing.

Now I'm expecting my third child and taking care of two little munchkins who are growing up way too fast - like every day is December 1st. Sometimes there are things in life that just throw you for a loop, make you realize what matters the most. That's what this accident did for me. Lying in bed the next day, unable to move at all without tremendous pain, the concept of my mortality felt really close.

While there was a part of me that thought what a waste all my rough drafts would be if that had happened, it was a very small part. I LOVE writing. But not as much as I love being a wife, a mother, a sister, and a daughter.

I'm not giving up on writing by any means. Now that November is officially over (It's December 9th already!!!), I'm sure I'll get a swift kick in the rear from my awesome CPs and we'll start sharing again. I'm looking forward to that because writing is something that fulfills me, even if it's not THE THING that fulfills me or makes me ME.

To be honest, I'm kind of relieved to have discovered that. It's liberated me from this deep-rooted competitiveness within that made me feel less-than just because I'm nearly 30 and not published. Because of my accident, I'm staring down my high school reunion at the end of this month, just a few Christmas-y weeks away. And I'm excited.

Who cares what I've accomplished? I'm alive and I'm in love with my husband and my kids. I fall for them more every single day. That's who I am.

Writing is just the cherry on top.