What it's Like to Be a Full-Time Writer

In August, my partner and I moved from Minnesota to Belgium. I looked for jobs, but I was struggling to find something I was qualified for that would also enable me to apply for a work permit (as it turns out, the law is very complicated – who knew). So I figured, hey, we have enough money for us to survive for a year if I don’t work; why not use this year to finally finish my manuscript and find an agent? Sounds like a breeze!

Narrator: It was not a breeze.

No it was not. By the time a month had passed, I’d barely done anything. It was infuriating. After years of wishing I had time to just sit at home and write, that was my reality – but the words refused to come. For weeks, I spent more time than I’d care to admit yelling “WHAT THE HELL” in my mind as I stared at blank pages or chapters that simply refused my revision efforts.

It seemed so backwards. Six years of college yielded countless notebooks that started out with the good intentions of taking relevant notes but devolved into mostly plot ideas and character descriptions with phrases like “lake turnover” and “anaerobic respiration” crammed into the margins. All the ideas that had come to me when I really should’ve been paying attention to my classes had completely fled my mind.

After struggling for several weeks, I talked to one of my critique partners about how lost I felt. I had tried setting daily goals for myself, like “write for two hours” or “write 2,000 words,” but neither had really worked. Could I count time spent staring at my computer as “writing time?” What if I deleted a couple thousand words, did that put me in the red for that day? I spent way more time thinking about the act of writing than I was spending on actual writing.

My CP gave me two great suggestions. She knew that I had previously been a competitive short story writer, and that I’d been a part of a free-association writing group in Minnesota. She tasked me with writing a short story every day for the remainder of my time in Belgium. At first, I thought there was no way I’d be able to do that – it seemed like so much work and I am, admittedly, very lazy. But then I realized that I’d able to do just that when I was thirteen when there were actual stakes, and there was no reason I couldn’t do it now.

So, every day, I find time to sit down for thirty minutes maximum and write a short story based on a writing prompt from Reddit. (If you’re interested in doing this, visit r/writingprompts for free writing prompts every day. You could even make an account and post your stories if you’re looking for feedback!) Amazingly, as of today I’ve written a short story every day for more than a month. They’re not all good – in fact, some of them are downright terrible – but about once a week or so I write something that I’m proud of, and that makes the bad stories worth it. I’ve even written a couple pieces that I’d like to expand into full manuscripts. I try to choose various genres to write and vary the length to push my creative boundaries. Sometimes I let myself write the full thirty minutes, and sometimes I force myself to only write six sentences. No point doing the same thing over and over expecting to learn something.

The second suggestion my CP gave me was to read THE 90-DAY NOVEL. (This is not an advertisement, this is just what happened.) If I was skeptical of my ability to write a short story every day, I was downright suspicious of a book that claimed to be able to teach me to write an entire novel in three months. I’ve participated in NaNoWriMo with varying success since 2014, but I usually cheat and use it as a way to force myself to work on existing manuscripts. I’m very much a planner – I want to know exactly who my characters are, what motivates them, what the conflict is, and I usually write an entire novel’s worth of worldbuilding material before I even get started writing the actual story. Doing all of that in a very compressed time frame seemed impossible.

As of this writing, I’m only on day twelve of the ninety days, but it’s going better than I anticipated. I started out with a vague idea for my manuscript – I wanted to write about an all-female combat robotics team – and I’ve already outlined the three acts; created a detailed background for my protagonist, antagonist, and love interest; and come up with a pretty solid opening and ending.

Even with all this planning, though, I’m still nervous for the point where I start writing the first draft (which doesn’t start until day twenty-seven; everything before that is brainstorming). I’ve already tried to write this story twice, and both times I crashed and burned after less than a week. Luckily, I started doing this just in time for NaNoWriMo, which will begin about a week after I start writing. I’m hoping that I’ll be motivated enough to finish this thing and I won’t fall off the word-count wagon.

For a long time, I thought that if what I wrote wasn’t good, there was no point writing it. My flash drive is a graveyard of abandoned manuscripts, and you wouldn’t believe the number of notebooks I have in a storage unit in Wisconsin littered with tidbits of stories I never even began writing. I thought this year would be a panacea – a chance to finally be a full-time writer and turn the frustration of not having enough time to write into an amazing manuscript that would go on to become a cultural phenomenon, or maybe just a thing a few people enjoyed reading, I don’t really know. So far it hasn’t quite lived up to the hype, but the year isn’t over yet. 

I think I can do this.

Starting a Novel- Again

Hello everyone! Happy April Fool's Day. :-)

I hope you are all doing well in your writing endeavors. I'm currently between projects...waiting for my editor's expertise on Book 2 of my Makai series, and challenging my creative side in brainstorming/ outlining Book 3 possibilities—which is taking more research than I thought it would!

I originally wrote all three books in this series before I started querying Book 1, just to make sure Book 1 contained all the necessary clues and information for the overall story before setting it all into stone (so-to speak), and that the overall game plan held together in writing—not just in theory. Long story short, as Book 1 became more focused and fine-tuned, I had to drop many ideas and plans that weren't immediately pertinent to Book 1, and therefore, 89.7% of the original Book 3 is no longer relevant. :-) Even so, I don't think it was wasted time. I'll just call it practice writing—100k words that the world will never see.

So now, I find myself in somewhat new territory—starting with a blank page! I actually have deadlines this time, so there will be no waiting around for inspirations or moods to strike, no taking the time to see where random ideas lead, and no savoring the candy bar scenes that will eventually be cut to keep the story on track. Because as much as I hate to admit it, this writing craft is now a business.

Time to sharpen the outlining tools, and here's my plan:

1. Basic Idea/Elevator Pitch
2. Beginning/Middle/End (one paragraph each (one for each storyline)
3. Divide Beginning/Middle/End into 10-15 Chapter Sections (One-sentence description per chapter—per storyline if necessary)
4. Expand each sentence into a paragraph. (keeping track of multiple storylines)
5. Expand each paragraph into a page—with notes/pictures for relevant research.
6. Revise Elevator Pitch with the clearer picture...and start writing the dang thing

Until now, I've been importing my working files into Scrivener from Word. So with this book, I'm interested in seeing how well Scrivener keeps things organized from start to finish. I'll let you know how it goes! I'm also going to challenge myself with the brainstorming tip: When answering the question "What would happen if...?", never pick one of the first five answers. (Eek!)


Do you have outlining tips to share? 

Small town writing versus big city writing

A few weeks ago, my family and I went on our annual summer vacation, and compared the pace in the city we visited, the change of pace was huge. Here are a couple facts in order to set this story up properly:

* The population of our town: Approximately 55,000. Technically, our town covers 16.6 square miles and is surrounded by a perimeter of orchards, dairies, and fields of cotton, alfalfa, and things of that nature. 

* The population of Long Beach? Approximately 466,000, claiming 51.44 square miles. (Yep. Talk about a major difference.) Cars and houses and buildings are everywhere and even when you're just walking on the sidewalk, it feels as though you're constantly in somebody's way.

As you can imagine, the town of Long Beach is very busy. And loud. And... congested. (I'm sure this suits city-folk just fine, but it took us some getting used to.) My point is, the pace of our hometown and the pace of Long Beach were different in practically every way.

But back to our vacation. We were blessed to rent a home facing one of the main streets in town (cross the crosswalk, walk a few yards, and you'd be met by stairs leading right down to the beach at the end of the cul-de-sac), and the first time we checked it out, my husband was with us. A few days later, however, when two of my daughters and I decided to trek over there on our own, we had an... interesting experience. 

Minutes passed as the three of us stood at the corner, waiting for cars to stop so we could cross the crosswalk. It wasn't an intersection, so nothing specifically gave us the right to walk (except for the fact that we were pedestrians, and where we live it is always stressed that pedestrians have the right of way--I'm pretty sure this is a California law, is it not?). Though the sign posted nearby said 30 MPH, no one heeded that "suggestion". At times, the momentum of vehicles flying by actually forced you to take a few steps back. Finally, though, a nice lady driving a truck decided to wait for us. We smiled, appreciative of her unusual Long Beach generosity, and looked to our right, expecting oncoming traffic to see the stopped truck and us getting ready to cross and well, stop. 

Vrooooom! Whoooosh! Cars kept charging past. It was broad daylight. They had to see us three standing there, yes?

I looked at the truck. Someone pulled up behind her and started honking. Great, I thought. Now she was being blamed for the fact that everyone else was mean and inconsiderate.

Finally, after about a minute of this, we heard a man's voice behind us yell (I'm guessing from the window of a building, maybe?) "You just have to go! They won't stop unless you start walking!"

Uh, what? Charge into that traffic? 

I laughed, shook my head, and told the girls, "I'm not risking my life by walking out into this! That guy is crazy!"

To make a long story short, approximately thirty seconds later someone stopped and we (hurriedly) crossed. The experience was definitely one of those "city" experiences, and here's where I (finally) bring writing into the story:

Sometimes, the writerly world is a lot like Long Beach. Publication news, best-selling news, agent news, do-this-or-don't-do-that advice advice advice from everyone everywhere and so many other things are constantly being shared, tweeted, and blogged about, and it gets to a point where the information is a lot like that street we were trying to cross--loud, in a rush, and overwhelming. 

With so many things continually being broadcast, it's easy to feel as though you're going to be left behind. Like you'd better get your rear in gear and get that stuff out there, or you're going to miss your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. (Hurry up! Everyone's going to pass you by! Who cares if it's ready yet--send that story out, publish it already, before it's too late and you're a nobody! What are you waiting for? You'd better do it like this best-seller did! Go go go! Any of those thoughts sound familiar?) 

But... is heading out into crazy-fast oncoming traffic the smart thing to do? Not really. Will getting out there a few seconds (or minutes even) make a difference in the overall grand scheme of things? Most likely no.

In the same way, I've found that rushing the writing process--throwing it out into the noise of the industry when a piece of work is not remotely ready--also isn't beneficial. Choosing to take the small town writing mentality versus the city one does, in the long run, benefit the writerly method in its entirety. I would much rather be a country writer where I can sit back and enjoy the sunrise, the smell of the cows (well, sometimes), even the slow drivers. To me, it's not worth diving into oncoming traffic. Give me that extra time to push out a quality product and not only will I enjoy every step of the way, I'll learn more as well.

It's like coffee. Do you dump the beans into the coffee pot, add the water, and expect it to be ground, percolated, in your cup, and ready to drink? Of course not. Likewise, allowing our writing to go through each step of the process is a much more memorable (and educational) experience in the long run. Take time to grow your writerly coffee beans. Enjoy the aroma as it's ground and mixed with the hot water. Then when you sit down, cup in hand, you can relax and savor the taste of a perfectly prepared cup, knowing it's the best brew out there, and there isn't a single thing you would have done differently.

Journey Lessons From My Kids

About a year and a half ago, I wrote a post on my personal blog about the things I've learned from watching my kids. You know, the bits of wisdom that drop from their tiny mouths just astound me sometimes. And while the things they do are innocent and focused on their own small worlds, there is a lot I can learn from them, and even apply to this whole writing/publishing thang. Here are a few of them:


1. Just because you haven’t crossed the finish line doesn’t mean you don’t know how to get there.

My kids were racing on their bikes. They picked a starting point, and they picked the finish line. On your mark, get set, GO! They were off. Now, they are just learning how to ride a bike, so getting to that finish line took a while. But they knew how to get there. They just had to work at it.

I’ve sort of made it to the finish line in the NF world. But fiction is my real passion. And I can’t even see the finish line in the fiction world just yet. But I know how to get there. I know how to write. Sure, there’s a lot of things about crafting a story I still need to learn. I don’t think I’ll ever know everything there is to know. But in general, yeah, I know what I need to do. I know I need to write and revise, and revise again, and query, and query some more. I know what I need to do and how to do it, and even though I haven’t yet plowed through the ribbon at the end of my race, I still know exactly what I need to do to get there. I just have to keep focused on my goal and do it.

2. Get up every time you fall down.

My kids fall down…a lot. But they always get back up. Sometimes they are broken or bloody, and they usually need a big hug and kiss from Mom, and occasionally an ER visit, but they always get back up. If there is one thing I’ve learned in the publishing world, you are going to fall and get knocked down…a lot. Some of those critiques or rejections you’ll receive are going to sting like nothing you’ve ever felt before. And having someone (or a group of someones) to run to for comfort when it gets really bad makes the boo-boos sting just a bit less. But you’ll never achieve your goal if you stay on the ground and cry. You gotta get back up and try again.

3. Be a good sport

My kids were playing a Wii game the other day when the miracles of all miracles happened – my four year old daughter beat my six year old son. Now, he could have yelled and cried and thrown down his paddle and quit (as my daughter will often do when she loses). But he didn’t. He was disappointed, sure. And for a second, I didn’t know how he’d react. But then he smiled and screamed “Woohoo! Nanas won!” and laughed and gave her a high-five. (Nana is her nickname, by the way :) I like eccentric names, but I’m not that mean) :)

You aren’t going to win every game you play. You aren’t going to cross the finish line first every time. And it’s okay to be disappointed when someone else gets there before you do. But you’ve gotta be a good sport about it. It would be easy to get bitter and angry in the midst of a pile of rejections, especially when others are flying over their finish line miles ahead of you. But what good will that do you? This is a tough, tough game. Being a bad sport about it just makes it that much harder. It’s okay to be disappointed, but don’t let that disappointment ruin the game for you or anyone else. If you can’t play nice, don’t play at all.

4. If you want dessert, you have to eat dinner first.

My son has a short attention span when it comes to dinner. He wants to get in, get it done, and get to the good stuff. Which means he often takes two bites of dinner and starts asking for dessert. As much as I’d like to chuck my dinner and dive into the chocolate cake with him, that’s not very good for either of us. We need to eat the dinner first. Then we can get our reward.

When it comes to writing, it’s easy to focus on the “good” stuff – getting an agent or publisher, seeing that book on the shelves, attending signings and release parties. Sometimes we get so focused on the “dessert” that we try to skip dinner – ignore vital lessons every writer should know because they take too long to learn and execute well; fly through revisions and call them done because we are so anxious to query and get that agent; skip over that plot hole because fixing it would open a whole can of worms we don’t want to take the time to deal with; sending something out that just isn’t ready because we are too excited and anxious to wait any longer.

But that isn’t the way to grow a strong, healthy writer, any more than it is to grow a strong, healthy child. You have to eat your dinner first – gotta ingest the stuff that’s going to help you grow in your profession, before you can enjoy your reward. Dangit ;-)

What have you learned in your journeys? Ever learn something from an unexpected source?