The salad days of writing

This entry is part 9 of 14 in the series My writing journey

I did something everyone says to NEVER, EVER do next in my writing journey: I started a sequel before I sold the first book of the series. Before I submitted it. Before I edited it!

I couldn’t help it! The idea was so shiny and all of the sudden, I had a first chapter sitting there, staring, waiting. A couple months later, I’d finished the sequel. I knew it wasn’t as good as the first book—it was lacking in some tension, if I remember correctly. But it was fun.

And then I did it again, with a third book in the series. Within a year, I’d written a complete three-book series.

And sold or submitted none of them.

This is crazy talk.

The conventional writing wisdom is that you don’t want to waste your time on a book that will be totally doomed if the first one doesn’t sell. And that is very wise.

But at the same time, as one of my critique partners/writing friends said at the time, these are the “salad days” of our writing careers. If we want to invest our time in something that we know is doomed, will never sell, or is just stupid, we can.

As your writing career progresses, you’ll sign contracts. You’ll promise books by certain days. You’ll have deadlines and expectations. You still have the chance to explore and take risks, but those things usually drop down in the priority list after the paying projects you’ve promised people.

If ever there were a time to write these novels, it was then. I had the time, I had the passion, and I had the freedom. I decided that even though I knew there was a good chance these books would never see the light of day, they were where my heart lay at the time, and without other career commitments, it might even be possible that writing anything else would’ve been the wrong choice.

Polishing up the first one

reenvisionAmid writing three books in a year (I’ve only done that once, okay? I reserve the right to repeat it πŸ˜‰ ), I also revised and edited the first in the series. (I was not so deluded that I would spend a lot of time editing the second and third books, however. Once I got through all those notes you write to yourself while writing the first draft, I saved and closed them. And shared them with Sarah. The end.)

Of course, back then I had a very limited understanding of “editing.” I know I’m not the only person who thought spell check and consistency were pretty much the only things you had to do to a book. (And let’s be honest; I’m checking spelling & grammar as I go.)

I’ve mentioned this before, but author Natalie Whipple knows where I’m coming from, as she lists “I wish I took editing seriously” as one of the things she wished she’d done differently in her writing journey:

I spent way too long doing edits that did not cut it. Sadly, it wasn’t until my 8th book that I really learned how to revise. Before that, I would do as little as humanly possible to satisfy my crit partners’ concerns. I never made big enough changes, never believed I NEEDED to make bigger changes. It was only when I really dug in, saw my story as malleable, that I truly improved.

Amen, sister.

So, I worked on the first book. I did get a little more in-depth than spell checking, but for the life of me, I cannot remember what kind of changes I actually made.

So I changed other stuff

However, I made other “professional” changes during this time. I started going out to author events at my local bookstore and made friends. I started my blog (thanks for reading!). I went to my first writers’ conference. I met an editor—I, introverted me, walked up to an editor and introduced myself and gave him my card! He gave me his! He invited me to submit to him (which he did with everybody at this conference; he works at a small publisher so he does get a lot of direct submissions anyway). He was super nice. I said super stupid things. (My surname was the ~1500th most popular in the country in the 2000 census. Fun fact.)

At that writing conference, I joined a “writers’ support group” of sorts, an email list for attendees of the conference, and met 200 new writing friends. I critiqued some of these gracious friends’ writing, and they were kind enough to critique mine. We laughed and cried together, and I’m still happy to be a member of Authors Incognito.

In reality, even without the three books, it was a dang good year for writing—the “salad days” where I could make mistakes, have fun and just enjoy myself.

And then I went and thought I was ready to submit my novel.

What do you think? When were your “salad days” of writing? How did you spend them? Come share your writers’ journey!

Image credits: salad days—Angie Farr; original of re-envision photos by Briana Zimmers

Discovering the secret sauce

This entry is part 10 of 14 in the series My writing journey

I think secretly, we all believe we’re the exception to the rejection rule. Most everybody gets rejected, which means approximately 99.9% of writers have the first thing they submit rejected.

But that 0.1% (or 0.0001%) give a lot more of us hope—or maybe they give us all enough hope to at least try. Unless you’re one of the brave writers who bites the “might as well get that first R over with” bullet, there’s probably some little shred of hope.

Until cold, hard reality hits reply.

Most of the time, our first steps down the professional publishing path just aren’t ready. And most of the time, on the off chance they are, it’s still kind of a cosmic wonder that we connect with an agent or editor in the first place. Not only does our writing have to be stellar-awesome-with-sprinkles, but it has to be something that speaks to the agent/editor. (How often do you put down a book because you’re just not that into it?) And then you have to go the extra mile—when was the last time you loved a book so much you instantly thought of 4-5 reader friends who would also love it?

I was extremely fortunate with my first rejection. I knew that this publishing company used evaluators for each submitted manuscript, and these evaluators are required to fill out a feedback form. So, like a very brave soul, I asked the editor for those feedback forms.

One of my friends once told me the feedback forms she received usually comprised one completely vague and basically useless form, one unhelpful and perhaps even harsh form, and one good/helpful form. That was exactly my experience, too. However, I was also fortunate that even the vague and the harsh feedback forms agreed there were certain changes needed to be made to my perfect little baby.

Big, sweeping changes.

Rethinking the plot changes.

It might be easier to move on to the next project changes.

However, the morning I received my rejection (before the email came in), I was thinking about this book and these characters, and I really felt compelled to share these people and this story with readers. They were just too real to me to give up, to let them live on only in my imagination.

So I gave myself a break. Okay, first I called Sarah and my mother and cornered my husband and anyone else who’d listen to complain about the stupid things they didn’t like, gush about the things they did like, lament the rejection, etc. After about a week of that, the horse was dead. DEAD. And I stopped beating it.

I took a little time off (it was Christmas and I was traveling with two small children to visit my family), and really weighed out the comments I’d received. Where the three really seemed to agree was that this romantic suspense novel was relying a little too much on the romance for suspense, and that grew tiresome.

I needed more tension. I needed more danger. I needed more suspense.

And secretly, I knew they were right because I’d worried about that all along. <Major lesson!

So I started through the book, looking carefully at the story structure, performing that tension check, looking at the scene goals, asking myself how the antagonists might make an appearance or play a bigger role here. I have very strict rules in revision: my first time through, I’m not allowed to correct or change anything (except typos), only make comments. So I made the comments, let the ideas percolate, and started in to work on the changes.

It. Was. Not. Easy. I had to kill my darlings, including a very cute scene that one of the reviewers specifically mentioned liking. Unfortunately, the tension was too low, so large parts of the scene had to go. The heroine transformed from a weak, weepy woman to a fierce, fighting female. I tried to draw the antagonists into every possible scene, beefed up the interactions and tension with the villain, and upped the danger whenever possible.

Sound like a lot of work? It was.

changes from first sub to storymakers
One page from the first chapter, showing the changes from the original submitted version up to the version right before this conference.

By the end of April/beginning of May, I was pretty sure I had something worlds better. I’d submitted the first chapter to the LDStorymakers Conference First Chapter Contest and was trying to forget it. It didn’t work. (I guess I glossed over this, but I hadn’t had the best experiences with contests in the past.)

I guess you could say what followed was the best of times. And the worst of times. But I wasn’t ready to give up on this book quite yet. After all, it was only one rejection, right?

What do you think? When do you give up on a project, and when do you fight for it? Come join in the conversation!

Photo credit: Tilemahos Efthimiadis

The time I got my teeth kicked in

This entry is part 11 of 14 in the series My writing journey

The following is gore-free

The weekend before my second LDStorymakers Conference, I stared into the mirror and asked myself the hard questions. I was facing my second conference in a row with the same manuscript, and nothing else to show for it. Was this storyline (an LDS FBI agent who has to go undercover as a Catholic priest) simply too controversial/silly/out there for these regional/LDS publishers to touch with a ten-foot pole? Had I wasted the last year on a book that will never, ever sell? Was this even the direction I want my career to go?

I didn’t have any answers.

At the conference, I was stunned—STUNNED—when my first chapter took first place in the Mystery/Suspense category. A friend happened to be coordinating the contest, and she later told me I’d been a very strong contender for the overall prize, too. That would have been cool, but no cooler or more useful than the prize I ended up with: a get-out-of-the-slush-pile-free card to two regional/LDS publishers, my exact market.

But that sweet little tidbit was small consolation. Immediately after the prizes were announced, I was sitting at my table, still shaking with excitement, when one of the editors I was supposed to submit to with my GOOTSPF card sought me out.

This editor had read and loved my first chapter so much that she looked up my rejected manuscript in their system. She dug out the digital copy and read it. She loved several aspects of the novel—the plot idea, the Irish culture incorporated, the characters.

And then, although she was truly acting out of the kindness of her heart and concern for me, she kicked my teeth in.

“Don’t submit that manuscript.”

Okay. Yeah. The manuscript was rejected, for good reasons, and I knew why. I tried to explain that I’d really revamped the manuscript based on the feedback, and the new first chapter reflected those changes.

changes from first sub to storymakers
One page from the first chapter, showing the changes from the original submitted version up to the version right before this conference.

Eventually, the editor hesitantly said she’d like to see the revised version. But it definitely seemed like she didn’t want me to waste my GOOTSPF card on that book.

My confidence was completely shot. That first place certificate, and even my friend’s news about the overall award, felt like the booby prize. I spend the last sessions of the conference sitting in classes, trying not to text my husband (really bad manners and he had no reception anyway), and fighting back tears.

Those questions I’d asked myself before the conference now had answers. And they weren’t the ones I wanted to hear.

However, I am a very contrary person. It didn’t take very long for my brain to morph that into a challenge. I was going to make this book COMPLETELY IRRESISTIBLE. I’d make it sparkle so bright they’d need sunglasses to open the attachment. I’d make it perfect.

I was going to need more secret sauce.

What do you think? Have you ever had the jaws of defeat chomp down on your victory? How do you bounce back after a disappointment? Come share!

The best of times, the worst of times

This entry is part 12 of 14 in the series My writing journey

After I got my teeth kicked in, I put that novel through the wringer! Over the course of another nine months, I sent most of the novel to another critique group. I had friends who were published by this publisher critique it. I sent it (the entire thing on one chunk) to yet another critique group. I revised and revised until I just couldn’t see the words anymore.

Oh, and somewhere in here, I wrote a beautiful, poignant and inherently broken novel. Which I still don’t know how to fix.

And then, finally, I hit send on the novel I’d been working on for almost two and a half years.

And tried to forget. By this time, the editor who lovingly kicked my teeth in was no longer with the publisher, so I was submitting to the third editor at the same house (which is small enough that they only have 2-3 editors to begin with!).

f_logoI have to admit: I kinda Facebook stalked this latest editor. (I’d never met her! I had to do it!) In her public pictures, I found someone I’d known as a teenager back home. Turns out they were good friends! Small world.

A few weeks later, about two months after I’d submitted, I happened to run into this woman who I’d known as a teenager. I struck up a conversation and mentioned seeing her pictures on Facebook. That . . . was kinda weird . . . She asked how I’d come across them, and I told her, “Well, I submitted a book to [editor]. . . .”

My friend pointed at the friend who was with her, helping her manage her kids.

Yeeeeah, it was the editor. Who I basically just admitted to Facebook stalking.

Fortunately, this didn’t seem to negatively influence her πŸ˜‰ . We talked a bit about the book, and bumped into each other a couple more times around town and the writing community. She let me know my book had passed the first round of evaluation, which it didn’t the first time, and was sitting in the queue to go to the final decision-making committee. So still I was waiting.

Meanwhile, I tried to work on the inherently broken novel, but it was inherently broken, and that’s a problem. I worked on it so hard and continued to fail so hard that I actually quit writing for a few months. And then a tragic death in my family made this whole imaginary worlds thing seem pretty pointless for a while.

But I still had that one novel out on submission. So maybe I’d pick up my writing when life wasn’t quite so terrible.

The first word

Just over seven months after I submitted the novel the second time, I got an email. You know. THE email. The heart-stopping, clammy-palms, instant-tears email. But it wasn’t quite what I was expecting.

Your manuscript, Saints and Spies, has completed the evaluation process, and we took a great deal of time this week in our committee meeting to discuss it after reviewing all the feedback we had received.

Ah, crap. Rejection. Right? I forced myself to read each word carefully.

We love this story, and are captivated by its imaginative twists and its unique plot! Our overall impression was very positive.

Oh. Oh? Oh! But . . . they’ll probably still say no. I mean, everybody gets rejected. A lot. And this was only my third submission ever (I subbed to another publisher in there; quick rejection).

Read more:

We have just one reservation: having an undercover agent who is LDS officiate in any Catholic church ceremonies seems troublesome.

The managing editor went on to explain the trouble, but I totally understood.

And that was why they had to reject me. Right?

If you can come up with a way to appropriately address this concern that would be acceptable to you, please let me know. We will then take it to the board at [parent company] and get your solution cleared with the board members there.

Oh. Okay. I could definitely draft out a solution. Still, this email wasn’t really a “let’s clear this one little issue up and get you your offer” though. No guarantees at all.

The first person I told happened to be my mother-in-law, who was visiting. (My husband and father-in-law were at the store, so I called next.)

I wrote back right away to say that I’d definitely look at that. I hurried to email a friend who’d had a book accepted by this publisher after they’d requested big changes. I took the weekend to reread the novel for all the scenes where my LDS FBI agent undercover as a Catholic priest has to do priestly things. I knew going in that I might have to modify or cut some of these scenes, and I’d already decided I was willing to cut those parts if an editor asked me to. By Tuesday, I had a document outlining these scenes and events and my proposed changes.

And then I waited again. I waited past the third anniversary of starting the book (and second anniversary of submitting it). I decided to do a real Nano for the first time. I started Nano. I went to a writers’ retreat where I had 0 Internet access, but I could read my email on my marginally intelligent phone. Although the very first editor I met and submitted to was coming to give a presentation at lunch, I still hadn’t heard another word from the publisher.

Until Friday morning. An email from the managing editor popped up on my stupidphone.

I’m feeling a little baffled . . .

Oh. Gotcha. I could just tell, the committee rejected the book and she didn’t know why.

But being a glutton for punishment, I read on:

I don’t know if anyone communicated to you that we have officially accepted Saints and Spies for publication!

AND THERE WAS MUCH REJOICING (and maybe a cartwheel or two)!!! I immediately got to share the news with good friends in person. I had to call my husband to tell him, and he was happy for me, but didn’t sound overly excited. (When I got home two days later, I found out he’d been laid out by food poisoning the entire time I was gone, and our five-year-old had to feed the family on hot dogs and toast. So DH had mustered as much enthusiasm as he could, and didn’t distract from my writing by telling me all this.) Then I called both of my parents, my grandparents, my sisters and one of my aunts.

Yeah, didn’t get a whole lot of writing done that morning. Fortunately, I did get almost 28,000 words that weekend—and I unquit writing. And it felt so good to be back! In the end, though, I’m glad that it was the love of writing that brought me back to it, and not the offer. Because as wonderful as it is to be published and have that outside validation, I write because I love it.

And that’s how it pays off.

Have you ever had to “quit” writing for your sanity? How would/did you celebrate your first offer of publication? Come share!

Photo by Angela

The truth about how I feel about going indie

This entry is part 13 of 14 in the series My writing journey

Friday I got to reveal the cover of my first published novel, and last week in my writing journey I talked about quitting writing and getting an offer of publication. The timing of those blog posts is coincidental—in fact, there’s a much bigger leap between those two steps than it would seem.

That offer was not for I, Spy. I’m actually publishing I, Spy under my own imprint, Durham Crest Books.

The decision to go indie

Independence, OR, signIt’s definitely not easy to decide to “go indie” in publishing. It’s much, much easier to let someone else take all the financial risk. And for a while I was very tempted to let someone else take that on. However, it’s also much, much easier to go indie than it is to get an agent and a trade publishing contract at a large house.

Small publishers are definitely another option, but for me, going indie is what I want. Every author has to think through this decision for his/her career and comfort level, but here’s what helped me make this decision:

  • The book itself—often, if a book isn’t something that fits neatly under a genre & marketing label, or it doesn’t have a big hook (or if people just don’t seem to see it!), agents and editors can be more hesitant about taking on that kind of risk. (Smaller presses may be an exception.) That doesn’t mean no one will buy it or there’s no audience.
  • To me, it seems that most (not all) small presses have such a limited reach that it’s not substantially better than self-publishing—especially considering how much bookstores seem to be struggling, and knowing that small presses would have a very hard time getting placement, co-op, etc.
  • Unless you are a BIG NAME or a BIG BOOK (and at a BIG HOUSE with a BIG BUDGET), 99% of the time, the vast majority of marketing falls to the author, no matter who pays for printing.
  • I’ve been running a very small business online for several years, and have very few expenses—meaning I have the capital to invest in self-publishing.
  • I have friends who’ve been there and done that, and models for success (that are attainable, I hope!). I’m part of a writers’ support group and there are dozens of successful self-publishers there who are selling thousands of books every month. I can see it happening to people I know, and I can pick their brains for advice.
  • The biggest issue for me: keeping control of my book, both creatively and legally. I know I can get exactly what I want. Some publishers are better about rights, author input, control, etc., than others, but it’s a huge weight off my mind not to have to worry about getting stuck in a crazy contract, or with a cover or a compulsory editorial “suggestion” I don’t like. (I mean, heck, I get to choose whether I use serial commas or not! [Not.])

There are drawbacks, of course. I have total control, but I also have total responsibility. If I can’t think of a title, I’m stuck. (Well, partially true—I always have my friends who are eager to help!) I’m assuming the full risk, financial, emotional (very real), etc.

Going indie vs. self publishing

There’s no codified definition of “indie publishing,” and everyone from small publishers to self-publishers use the term. To me, the difference between plain old “self-publishing” and “indie publishing” is all about the outlook.

So why do I consider myself “indie”?

  • I’m willing to invest in money and time to produce the best possible product.
  • I set up an entire business to support this venture.
  • But most of all, I’m in this for the long haul. I’m not self-publishing hoping that I’ll sell a bajillion copies of this one book and have New York banging down my door to buy this book and everything else I ever write. I don’t believe for a minute that indie publishing is a fast track to a contract or any other form of success. It’s work, and I’m willing to put in that work.

I’m not going to rule out trade publishing. Sometimes as I’m sitting here hyphenating my entire book by hand, I do wish I had someone else to handle this stuff for me. But for right now, I’m making multi-year projections for publishing in at least two series. The prevailing wisdom is that most indie publishers don’t really see great success until they have multiple books on the market, so I’m planning for that. (My planning calendar goes into 2016 and includes books that have been sitting around collecting dust as well as books I haven’t even written yet!)

What about my publisher?

Things are on hold with my publisher for now. One day I might be ready to talk about why. We’ll see.

The truth about how I feel about going indie

fireworksTwo years ago, I would never have expected to self-publish. It’s a hard decision to go indie, and to be honest, I do still second guess the choice. Despite the money I’ve put into editing and covers and ISBNs, it’s not too late to pull the plug and run and hide.

It’s very scary to put yourself out there, and there is still a bit of a stigma associated with self-publishing. There are certain avenues that are simply not open to an independently published person, no matter how professional and talented and successful, that are open to any trade publisher, no matter how unprofessional or feckless or unsuccessful. In some ways, I’m letting part of my dream go as I do this. Sometimes, even though I’m doing everything right and crossing every t and dotting every i, I feel like I must be cheating, that this is less legit.

But in the end, I think I’m reaching for the larger dream. No, I don’t have a high-powered agent or an eleven-figure advance or PW and Kirkus banging down my door for a review. I probably wouldn’t say no to any of those things (depending on the strings with that advance πŸ˜‰ ).But I’m not going to let the lack of those things hold me back from the real goal—reaching readers. Getting my books out there. Making something I’m proud of.

And as one wise friend (who I totally can’t remember who it was, sorry!) pointed out, having the backing of a trade publisher usually entails less financial risk, but in the end, it doesn’t guarantee success. You can fail either way, and putting yourself out there is always scary. I won’t let that fear win.

What do you think? What publishing path are you pursuing now? How did you decide what’s right for you? Come share your writing journey!

Photo credits: Independence—Doug Kerr, fireworks—Joel

My writing journey (for now)

This entry is part 14 of 14 in the series My writing journey

Want a copy of I, Spy now? Join me and dozens of other authors for a mass book signing this Friday, May 10, 5-7PM at the Provo, Utah, Marriott conference center!

This year, I’ve chronicled my writing journey, from childhood to now. I’ve gone from childhood dabblings to teenage fanfiction to original work, from an offer of publication to going indie. It’s been a long road to my first published novel next month (!). How has yours been the same? How has yours been different?

Everyone’s writing journey is different, and we’re all in different places in the path, or maybe even different forks of the path—and that’s okay. There’s no one right way to get there, or one right place to be on the path.

What do you think? Where are you on your writing journey?

Photo by jimmedia