Noël Lynne Figart

“Real Writer”

I remember reading something some years ago about being a “real” writer or a professional writer. It went something along the lines of:

If you write something and you get a check for it, it doesn’t bounce, and then you go pay the electric bill with it, you’re a professional writer.

I think it may have been Stephen King. I’m not a fan of his fiction particularly, but I’m very fond of what he has to say about being a writer.

Well, I’m a professional writer. It’s weird to wrap my mind around that. I don’t earn all of my living writing, but I don’t earn all of my living doing any one thing. I teach, give advice… buncha stuff. I was asked in the gym a couple of days ago where I worked. When I said I was self-employed, she asked me, “Doing what?”

Um… Everything?

I didn’t self-identify as a writer the first time I earned money as a writer¹. To this day, I do not know why. I think I had the idea that “real” writers saw their work in bookstores. It bothers me, sometimes, that I did not embrace the label. I think I might have been more serious about my career. But I only saw it in terms of big magazine sales or book contracts.

I remember all the pre-Internet advice on getting started freelancing. What no-one said, and I wish someone had was, “Don’t sell yourself short, but don’t be afraid of the chump change assignments at first. Everyone pays their dues in a profession.”

I’ll be the first to say that the skill of good writing is shamelessly undervalued. A “real” published author of my acquaintance cautioned me that she could have earned more per hour working at McDonald’s than she did on a book I had been rather fulsome in praising.

True enough, but you cannot flip burgers from your writin’ chair, either! I mean, this is my office!

Honesty forces me to point out that this pic is somewhat neater than my office at present. There’s a sweater I am working on at the foot of the ottoman, and there is a coffee cup on the table as well as some balls of yarn. Oh, and there’s a phone and iPod cable on the arm of the chair. But, yeah, that’s where I work (cum laptop) unless I’m offsite for something. I don’t teach from that chair! No, I’m bouncing around the classroom throwing erasers and telling people clip art is the tool of the Devil².

This is something I’ve wanted since I was in my late teens. Now, when I was sixteen or so, laptops did exist (they were invented in 1982), but hardly commonplace, powerful tools they are today. If I wanted to write somewhere besides a desk, I was writing on paper and in longhand. The internet as we know it really didn’t exist, either, so the virtual office or hiring people thousands of miles away wasn’t as common as it is now. I may do most of my work in that comfy chair (and god is it comfy!), but I could do it in an airport or on a beach just as easily.

Ain’t modern technology grand?

¹It was a book on how to open a mailing business for a course my client intended to teach on the subject. I’ve since made extensive use of the research I did for it for my own business work. The fringe benefits of the profession can be amazing!

² Don’t ask me why. This guarantees a laugh and a good review from the student.

Pondering on the writing

I was re-reading At the Foot of the Throne today in preparation for re-writing the  query letter and putting together a better promotion package for it.

It’s better than Stoneflower, even though I did write it with the intention of being a potboiler.  I mean, the pacing and plot is better, and the characters are pretty cool.  I wrote it with the intention of just being this piece that isn’t Meaningful Writing.  You know, Just Telling The Damn Story.

I think maybe not caring about how damned profound a story is worked for me on that one.  It’s decent work.

I’m finding the ending a bit unsatisfying though.  I’d intended it to be a trilogy, but I’m beginning to think I could take 20,000 (it’s 90,000 words right now) words or so and just turn it into one fairly long book with a much more satisfying, well-rounded ending and screw the idea of a series.

I  could actually do with some feedback on it, if someone would like to read it.

Getting Things The Fuck Done

I said I would stick to my goals, so I have not planned to swim today. Original plan was to swim 900 yards every week day until the end of the month, so that’s what I am going to do.  I may cheat and use the hot tub, though. <grin>

This does not mean, of course, that I do not have a metric assload of things to do.

• I want to write a timeline for getting stuff done for the PolyWorks Fund group to tear apart. I’ve been procrastinating horribly on this, and I’m not entirely sure why. Must… Get… Done… Today…
• I want to write a much better query for At the Foot of the Throne and find another publisher to whom to send it.  My book let me show you it.
• I’ve got some projects I wanna bid on.
• I need to re-do my Polyamorous Misanthrope dragon image to clean up the header.  Write a whole new theme for the blog would be favorite!  Not sure exactly what I’m going to do with that, as I’ve tweaked the present theme all to hell instead of creating theme independent widgets.
• I’ve gotta write a new page for the Polyamorous Misanthrope  that links to books and stuff I think are poly-useful.  I have a feeling some people are gonna take exception to some of my ideas. (At least, I hope so <EG>)
• Must write more on That Damned Book.  I’ve gotten a lot of good ideas and imagery for it on my morning swims.  I think that while listening to audiobooks to try to kill off lap boredom is useful, there’s a lot to be said for using that time to let my mind roam free.
• Gotta record greetings for a couple of listings on my advice line.
• I really want to get the house cleaned up.  It could  use some Loving Care, maybe even mop the kitchen floor.  I’ve been working downstairs, so the clutter in the bedroom is not giving me the visual reactive cue of “Clean me up, dammit!”

I’m finding myself listing all this stuff I need/want to do, and I’m really having to discipline myself to make sure they’re congruent with January’s Goals.   If they’re not, I just make a note for next month to decide what February will look like and will these things lead me to the final accomplishment of Goals 2008?  I know it sounds goofy, but I’m good at getting excited and sidetracked, so this really helps.

I can has work and I swimmed!

Ya! Got some freelance writing work. This makes me happy.

Every dollar I earn from my writin’ chair is worth two (emotionally) dollars earned leaving the house. Yeah, I know, I’m a weirdo.

I was also a Good Girl^TM and swam this morning. It felt good. Thing is, I’m still having a hard time getting over being the heaviest woman in the gym at a given time. Early mornings are harder because it’s all the sleek athletes and hard-cores in then. Then here’s me. I know I need to bloody well get over myself and be done with it. No-one really cares but me and I know that, too.

I’m thinking about saving up to get my life guard certification, or possibly even my WSI. I’ve checked over the requirements, and I’m plenty capable of passing them, though it’s been over twenty years since I was last certified. I actually did use my training once, about ten years after I’d gotten my certification.

A mother with two kids (all of whom were inexpert swimmers) got into rough surf I would hesitate to swim in. As a matter of fact, I’d just been griping about the dangerous surf red flags and the fact I’d be spending the day on the sand instead of in the water.

The mom was playing in the surf with the kids, holding their hands, and lost a grip of one of them. He was being pulled out. I was nearby and charged in to grab the kid. The lifeguard was about six seconds behind me and according to my parents, was shouting at me (I couldn’t hear it. I was busy) when she saw me use a standard lifesaving technique to get the kid in — the reach and grab. It’s a method of getting someone without getting too close to a panicked person who can drown you, but is a very firm hold. The guard got the mom and the other kid in and started chewing her out for getting in the water during red flag surf. (You really should stay on shore when the red flags are flying). The guard thanked me and told me that even though she was glad I was able to get the child in, I should be careful with that sort of thing. Well, okay, she was right. I’m not ocean rescue trained.  That’s some specific and rigorous skills and I know it! Still, the kid was being swept away, the mother and other kid were in trouble and the lifeguard would have had to choose who to help.

I hope I would have had the sense not to try to swim out after the kid if we both got swept off our feet and out into the deep water.  And that’s why ocean rescue is a different sort of training than your standard Red Cross Pool lifeguarding.  Conditions are harsher and change a whole bunch faster.  The reach and grab in a pool when you’re on deck and there’s someone flipping out within your reach?  No biggie.  You’re on steady ground, there’s no current or waves to deal with, and you can focus on getting the person out of the pool.  In the ocean?  Different story by far!   Waves are a lot stronger than people, and you can be knocked down while you’re trying to use that very simple technique.   Combine that with rough surf, a lot of wind and an outgoing tide (the exact conditions of that particular day), and things change fast.

When I was a kid my dad told me something that I’m not sure if he actually knew the stats on or not, but I’ve never forgotten it:  Strong swimmers drown more often.  Why?  They get cocky and take dumb risks.  I don’t know if this was to caution a little girl quite prone to get cocky about her own physical skills or if it was a real statistic.   But I figure the caution is fairly useful.

On Procrastination

If you can order your life in such a way as to *not* find it necessary to write 5,000 words (~20 doublespaced pages) of fiction in a day to stick to a goal, this is probably a good course for your life to take.

Think broken, can’t brane.

However, got a wonderful idea for That Damned Book, and it’s beautiful and subtle and makes a great metaphor and I love it.

Stolen “Ideas”

Neil Gaiman talks a lot about ideas in the linked post.

I chuckled a little when I read it.

Back in late 1990, early 1991, I write a story about a dragon that played chess. The “voice” I heard in my head for that dragon was Sean Connery.

In 1996, “Dragonheart” came out with, you guessed it, Connery doing the voice of the dragon.

Do I squawk that my “idea was stolen”.

No. The first reason being that the likelihood that anyone connected with Hollywood in any way read that short story in the appropriate time frame is slim to none. (I don’t know when development on the film started, but I’d bet it was before ‘94 and I didn’t have it on the Internet then).

The second reason is the entire concept of an “idea” being stolen is mostly whiny hogwash. You can plagiarize, but stealing an idea is harder than you think.

I say this as someone who has seen sites put up that follow formats of sites I’ve written. I say this as someone who has seen her own turn of phrase used to convey concepts in alternative lifestyle communities. I could scream “stealing” or “copying”, but that would be dumb. No-one in the world can steal how I write an article without actual plagiarism.

The reality is that writers are unique. It’s not that we’re telling stories, it’s how we tell them. There’s no such thing as a truly original plot. The very best stories are not popular because their plots or their characters are particularly original. It’s that they’re told in an engaging way. It’s that what the author has to say and how she says it strikes a chord.

Another Rejection

According to Yet Another Rejection Letter, the premise of my novel is “intriguing” but not right for an agent I was rather hoping would want to represent me. Did my homework on her and she’s got some good authors and herself has a good rep and does represent this particular genre. The letter also said that she (the agent’s assistant who wrote the letter) encouraged me to continue submitting my query to other agents. Very kind and encouraging.

Yep, another personal rather than form rejection slip. At least, I think it was…

I suppose if my next one is a critique, I should celebrate and then get to work revising the novel. I do see a trend in the personal comments already, so that’s a good sign.

I know they say when you start getting personal letters rather than forms it’s a good sign, but you know, that advice was written back before word processors. I have to wonder if that’s quite the same now, as you can write a perfectly original-looking “Fill in the Blank” template.

Being a Reject

Because rejections slips are on my mind, I googled “rejection slips”. Yeah, I know, goofy.

They’re agony for a lot of writers, especially ones who write mostly for the love of their stories and characters and are not looking at writing with an eye to business.

First off, I want this really clear: I consider that sort of writing a totally valid form of art. I eyeroll people who are “writing a book” because they usually say it to try to impress. I can tell the difference between that and, “I’ve got this story I’m writing that I love.” There is a big difference.

But, back to rejection slips.

Why, why, why, is this a huge deal to the person who wants to go pro?

If you wanna go pro, you’re basically saying, “I’m an entrepreneur and my product is my words.”

If you’re going to be in sales, which as a writer who wants to be paid, by God you are, you need to learn some facts about selling:

• Sales is a numbers game. Yes, yes, yes, you have to be an artist to write good fiction. But when the book is done as best as it can be without the editor’s input, you have to take off your artist hat, and put on your salesman’s hat.
• A direct mailout that advertises a niche service that gets four “yeses” to ninety-six “nos” is a good, solid performer. The numbers are a bit better for fiction, but keep in mind most first books, even the classics and the best sellers, get a lot of “no”s before we get to a “yes”.
• Even if you are a writing a mainstream novel, you are writing to a niche market. 25% of respondents to a 2005 Gallup poll did not read any books in the previous year. Another 50% read less than five. (Makes me feel like a bloody freak. I’ve read more than five books in the past month not counting audiobooks). Then keep in mind that a large percentage of those books are the big name best sellers (Harry Potter series, Oprah’s book club…) The market is adequate, but hardly enormous.
• A good salesman doesn’t take a “no” personally. Writing is a business as much as is selling brushes. Oh sure, people in the front lines of the publishing industry (editors, agents, etc.) get into it because they love books¹, but they have to get paid enough to eat somehow!
• If you really do want to be a professional writer, accept the business part of it and learn to sell. There are thousands of books out there about it. Selling isn’t about Leisure Suit Larry nor is it about some guy who wears an Armani suit with a perfect haircut and is slicker than snot on a doorknob. Learning to sell well is about being interested in people. If you’re writing fiction, chances are good you’ve got this down pat. So expand on it.

I’ve read a lot of sites about rejection and dealing with it in the past few months, and I’ve found the ones not aimed at the artiste a lot more useful than the ones aimed specifically at the writer.  Don’t paper your damn bath with your rejection slips.  If you must keep them for tracking purposes, be business-like about it and file the things.  Someone selling telephone systems doesn’t keep a memento of every “no” he gets like a serial killer keeping a tooth from each of his victims.   Don’t you do it!  Be a pro.
¹They don’t get into it for the money! Median annual earnings for salaried editors were $43,890 in May 2004. Okay money, but no-one’s going to encourage their child to marry an editor for the financial security

Rejection slips

I got two rejection slips from agents today, for a grand total of three.

Ya know, I was feeling mildly bummed¹ until I counted… Three ain’t bad. I’ve promised myself not to get worried until the count reaches thirty and at two queries a week, that’s months away.

One was a form rejection.

The other was this very kind personal letter, saying (s)he enjoyed reading the pages I submitted, but it didn’t catch the imagination.

Does that mean my missing is getting closer? It’s the first personal response I’ve gotten.

Part of me is thinking, “Aww, that’s really sweet and all, but you don’t have to reassure me. At this stage in the game, even ‘you SUCK’ is unlikely to keep me from writing.” You know, trying to be kind to the delicate ego of the budding author.

Part of me is wondering if (s)he was serious.

Still, it was personal, and I’m heartened a lot by that no matter what.

¹As in, “Oh… well fudge. Anyway, gotta lick this envelope and get my ass to the post orifice sos I can send me out my next batch o’queries.”

A Clean, Well-Lighted Place

Writing in public, especially places like coffee houses, has an interesting reputation.

J.K. Rowling wrote at least part of the Harry Potter series in various coffee houses.  John Scalzi thinks it’s an attempt to get laid.  (I have never once gotten a proposition while writing in public and want to know where in hell he’s going, cause I could do with… Well, nevermind).

Me?  I like writing in bars, pubs and coffee houses.  Oh sure, if I’m working on an emotionally difficult scene, or if I  need scads of research on a topic, I’m more likely to be found in my writin’ chair that a former partner insisted we buy when shopping for living room furniture.  (I’m still grateful he overrode my inner Scrooge.  I’m sitting here in it now, and I spend a lot of time blissfully working from it).

So what is it that drives the introvert out in public to write?

For me, it’s a change of scene, and a lack of a wireless connection.  I write on a Palm Pilot with one of those little foldable keyboards.  No net surfing — just basic word processing.  If I have research to do, I do it before I go out to write and store it in a file on my Palm (I’m really fond of Quickword, by the way, and highly recommend it).   I live about 1/4 mile from a pub, and just the act of walking to there will often be enough to get the creative juices flowing.  I get ideas best moving forward.  Even as a little kid, I’d get my best ideas for stories riding my bike.

Sure, like everyone else, I wanna be a richnfameous writer.  Then I take a sip of wine while I’m working, look out the window and realize that while Jo Rowling and Neil Gaiman have made it, and that’s really cool, I’m doing something they can’t.  (Not sour grapes.  I’d rather have extraordinary professional success!  But hey, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying the little things, too).