I'm not talking to anyone today. I'm so deep into an edit that nothing else registers. So read an earlier post. Read someone else's post. Write your own post.
But don't expect any more than this.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
If I Ruled the (Grammar) World
I'm not ambitious; I just want to tell people how to speak and force them to make sense. I don't always agree with Webster's, and I would like them to get a clue.
For example: our local weatherman uses the word "seasonable" to describe the temperature on a given day. I looked it up, and my big ol' honkin' dictionary agrees with him that "seasonable" means usual for a particular season. What's wrong with "seasonal"? As one long interested in etymology, I find it makes a lot more sense. The "al" ending makes it "like the season", which is a lot better than adding "able" which makes it "capable of being seasoned." (Think "reasonable")
Another rule I don't like is the "I am well" answer one is supposed to give when asked how she is. It seems to me that it is just as likely that I describe myself with a predicate adjective "I am good" as it is that I describe the verb "am" with an adverb. "I am well" sounds poncey, "I am good" sounds descriptive, at least to me.
I know. There's no sense arguing. Somebody decided these things were "correct", at least for this century. (Remember, double, triple, and quadruple negatives were permissable in Shakespeare's time, the thought being that piling them up added emphasis. Now we claim they cancel each other out, like numbers in a math equation.)
Language does not make sense, and English is as bad as, maybe worse than, any other. A mishmash of Latin, Celtic, and a dozen long-lost languages, it has been added to from other languages, twisted by centuries of use, and transformed by idioms and idiots. The rules, therefore, are arbitrary and often silly.
I can be arbitrary, and I'm often silly. So let me rule the grammar world, and I'll tell you all how to speak correctly--my way.
For example: our local weatherman uses the word "seasonable" to describe the temperature on a given day. I looked it up, and my big ol' honkin' dictionary agrees with him that "seasonable" means usual for a particular season. What's wrong with "seasonal"? As one long interested in etymology, I find it makes a lot more sense. The "al" ending makes it "like the season", which is a lot better than adding "able" which makes it "capable of being seasoned." (Think "reasonable")
Another rule I don't like is the "I am well" answer one is supposed to give when asked how she is. It seems to me that it is just as likely that I describe myself with a predicate adjective "I am good" as it is that I describe the verb "am" with an adverb. "I am well" sounds poncey, "I am good" sounds descriptive, at least to me.
I know. There's no sense arguing. Somebody decided these things were "correct", at least for this century. (Remember, double, triple, and quadruple negatives were permissable in Shakespeare's time, the thought being that piling them up added emphasis. Now we claim they cancel each other out, like numbers in a math equation.)
Language does not make sense, and English is as bad as, maybe worse than, any other. A mishmash of Latin, Celtic, and a dozen long-lost languages, it has been added to from other languages, twisted by centuries of use, and transformed by idioms and idiots. The rules, therefore, are arbitrary and often silly.
I can be arbitrary, and I'm often silly. So let me rule the grammar world, and I'll tell you all how to speak correctly--my way.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
But I Don't Want to Edit Anymore!
I always edit my work many times before I show it to anyone else, knowing myself too well to assume I did it right the first time. Then I send it off and VOILA! someone wants to publish it. Yay!
Then come the edits.
As I read the editor's comments, I think, "Yeah, she's right. I should develop that character more," and later, "Wow. It's true, I left that chapter hanging." Farther on I think, "I really do need to clarify that plot point. She got me there."
What all this means, of course, is work: fixing, fixing, fixing, and then reading for continuity and then more fixing and more reading.
Sometimes (just for a little while) I think, "Why doesn't she get this?" Then I remind myself that this person reads for a living. If she doesn't get my meaning, what are the chances my readers will? A good editor (like the one I currently have) makes a book better, and for that any author should be--indeed, has to be--grateful.
Even when it means more work.
Then come the edits.
As I read the editor's comments, I think, "Yeah, she's right. I should develop that character more," and later, "Wow. It's true, I left that chapter hanging." Farther on I think, "I really do need to clarify that plot point. She got me there."
What all this means, of course, is work: fixing, fixing, fixing, and then reading for continuity and then more fixing and more reading.
Sometimes (just for a little while) I think, "Why doesn't she get this?" Then I remind myself that this person reads for a living. If she doesn't get my meaning, what are the chances my readers will? A good editor (like the one I currently have) makes a book better, and for that any author should be--indeed, has to be--grateful.
Even when it means more work.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Logic? No Such Thing
Think about it (due to subject matter, I won't add "logically" to that command).
If there were such a thing as logic, then we would all have to agree on stuff. And we don't. Therefore, logic cannot exist, of if it does, it is outside human capacity.
I think that a particular political philosophy makes sense. You, having an equally adequate brain, come to a different conclusion and support opposing candidates and platforms.
I read a book and like it a lot. You read the same book and find all sorts of problems with it.
You believe that the world was created by aliens from the next galaxy over. I have problems accepting that aliens would want to create something as chaotic as this.
Yup, the above items are all quite subjective. But if logic exists, why can we not delve into them and find the truth? Descartes said, "I think, therefore I am." If that proves my existence, then my thinking has to be right. But if my thinking doesn't agree with yours, does that mean you don't exist?
Wow. Logically, I must be Will Smith and the rest of you are those creepy beings that keep chasing him around in I AM LEGEND.
If there were such a thing as logic, then we would all have to agree on stuff. And we don't. Therefore, logic cannot exist, of if it does, it is outside human capacity.
I think that a particular political philosophy makes sense. You, having an equally adequate brain, come to a different conclusion and support opposing candidates and platforms.
I read a book and like it a lot. You read the same book and find all sorts of problems with it.
You believe that the world was created by aliens from the next galaxy over. I have problems accepting that aliens would want to create something as chaotic as this.
Yup, the above items are all quite subjective. But if logic exists, why can we not delve into them and find the truth? Descartes said, "I think, therefore I am." If that proves my existence, then my thinking has to be right. But if my thinking doesn't agree with yours, does that mean you don't exist?
Wow. Logically, I must be Will Smith and the rest of you are those creepy beings that keep chasing him around in I AM LEGEND.
Friday, September 24, 2010
The Girl with...Well, You Know
I finished THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO. I know, it's been a while since I promised to publish my thoughts, but at last, here they are.
It was good. However, the fact that it has taken me this long to finish the book is a clue to the fact that it was not compelling for me, at least not until the very end. It could have been a lot shorter, with fewer characters introduced who meant nothing to the book. I got tired of reading the minute details of someone's day.
I wonder how the author got away with never letting his readers actually meet the secondary bad guys. We were told they were bad, and they did evil things, but I wanted to see them for myself. I suppose the smart people would say that Larsen was hinting at the detachment modern society creates between people, but my editor would have told him, "Show, don't tell."
That said, the two main characters were interesting and the story was satisfying in the end, although I saw the big surprise coming a mile away.
Verdict: a good read, but I can't say I get what all the hoopla is about.
It was good. However, the fact that it has taken me this long to finish the book is a clue to the fact that it was not compelling for me, at least not until the very end. It could have been a lot shorter, with fewer characters introduced who meant nothing to the book. I got tired of reading the minute details of someone's day.
I wonder how the author got away with never letting his readers actually meet the secondary bad guys. We were told they were bad, and they did evil things, but I wanted to see them for myself. I suppose the smart people would say that Larsen was hinting at the detachment modern society creates between people, but my editor would have told him, "Show, don't tell."
That said, the two main characters were interesting and the story was satisfying in the end, although I saw the big surprise coming a mile away.
Verdict: a good read, but I can't say I get what all the hoopla is about.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Networking Works
Networking works, but you never know when or how it will. Last night I spoke at a library. After my talk, an audience member told me that she'd visited my website due to pre-talk posters she'd seen. She noticed that I do writing workshops. Would I be willing to do one there?
Of course, I said I would.
She went right to the librarian and made her request. The librarian approached me and set up a tentative time for the workshop.
The library had also asked a local bookstore to handle book sales. After the talk, the bookseller asked if I would do a pre-Christmas event at her store.
Of course, I said I would.
I was also able to tell the audience about a craft show I would be attending in the area where I will demonstrate Tudor clothing (and sell books, of course).
One event: three branches, each different but each likely to help both sales and the all-important name recognition that authors need.
Of course, I said I would.
She went right to the librarian and made her request. The librarian approached me and set up a tentative time for the workshop.
The library had also asked a local bookstore to handle book sales. After the talk, the bookseller asked if I would do a pre-Christmas event at her store.
Of course, I said I would.
I was also able to tell the audience about a craft show I would be attending in the area where I will demonstrate Tudor clothing (and sell books, of course).
One event: three branches, each different but each likely to help both sales and the all-important name recognition that authors need.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
If Agents Are Human
I think they are, although you may have heard differently.
Humans can't help but be more attracted to some things than to others. Even if it's a person's job to read a whole bunch of things, we tend to want to read some of them and not want to read others. I know this from years of sophomore essays.
So a submission must either appeal to an agent or not upon reading the query. We know they get tons of them. Do they save the good ones for last, as a reward for their labors, or do they shove the not-so-intriguing ones to the bottom of the pile?
I suppose it's a personal decision, and it could vary with a person's mood. I recall that some nights I read the essays with the worst handwriting first, to get them over with, but other nights I started with one I knew would be well done, to sort of get me in the mood to finish them. Of course there were nights when I just read through the stack as it came. No choices, just get it done.
So there's my question for the day. How do agents decide what they will read and in what order? Unlike English teachers, they don't have to read them all, and they don't have to read all of any one submission. They have that tiny bit of luxury I never had as a teacher: writing "Not for us" in one corner and going on to the next.
Humans can't help but be more attracted to some things than to others. Even if it's a person's job to read a whole bunch of things, we tend to want to read some of them and not want to read others. I know this from years of sophomore essays.
So a submission must either appeal to an agent or not upon reading the query. We know they get tons of them. Do they save the good ones for last, as a reward for their labors, or do they shove the not-so-intriguing ones to the bottom of the pile?
I suppose it's a personal decision, and it could vary with a person's mood. I recall that some nights I read the essays with the worst handwriting first, to get them over with, but other nights I started with one I knew would be well done, to sort of get me in the mood to finish them. Of course there were nights when I just read through the stack as it came. No choices, just get it done.
So there's my question for the day. How do agents decide what they will read and in what order? Unlike English teachers, they don't have to read them all, and they don't have to read all of any one submission. They have that tiny bit of luxury I never had as a teacher: writing "Not for us" in one corner and going on to the next.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Right Mental State
Submissions are tough. Oh, I remember back in the beginning, when I really, really thought that agents were out there just waiting for me to write something they could hurry to a publisher and make into a bestseller.
Those days did not last.
Now I have to be excited about a project to garner any sort of enthusiasm for submissions. Not that I don't believe in my work. I do. But I have lost the belief that just because it's good, it will sell. I don't know what the formula is (no one does), but I do understand that it's a screwy business. An agent can like a MS but know she can't sell it. An editor can appreciate good writing but know he can't make a case for the book to his marketing department. And with changes coming swift and sure in the business, no one even knows if a given company will be publishing within six months. The roadblocks between reader and writer are high...and even if you get past all of them, the reader may not buy the book ("So many choices!") or may not like it ("It isn't funny like Evanovitch!").
So today is submission day. Again. It's not as much fun as it used to be, but at least I know more than I used to. To use a simile apt for mystery, it's like shooting a pistol as opposed to a shotgun. The shotgun sends out more ammo but tends to have less power. The pistol, aimed correctly, travels to the target and makes its mark.
Those days did not last.
Now I have to be excited about a project to garner any sort of enthusiasm for submissions. Not that I don't believe in my work. I do. But I have lost the belief that just because it's good, it will sell. I don't know what the formula is (no one does), but I do understand that it's a screwy business. An agent can like a MS but know she can't sell it. An editor can appreciate good writing but know he can't make a case for the book to his marketing department. And with changes coming swift and sure in the business, no one even knows if a given company will be publishing within six months. The roadblocks between reader and writer are high...and even if you get past all of them, the reader may not buy the book ("So many choices!") or may not like it ("It isn't funny like Evanovitch!").
So today is submission day. Again. It's not as much fun as it used to be, but at least I know more than I used to. To use a simile apt for mystery, it's like shooting a pistol as opposed to a shotgun. The shotgun sends out more ammo but tends to have less power. The pistol, aimed correctly, travels to the target and makes its mark.
Monday, September 20, 2010
It's Like Gilda Said
It's always something.
If, for example, a person has worked to get something, say a manuscript, done, and if the day comes when that manuscript falls into shape quite nicely and she begins to salivate at the prospect of sending out some submission letters, a call will come to say that a relative who yesterday was perfectly fine is now in the hospital and needs her immediate attention.
I'm guessing that when the day comes that this same author sells her manuscript to the biggest publisher in the U.S. and receives an advance check for 3.4 million dollars, a call will come to let her know that a heretofore unheard-of sister who was given away at birth needs a kidney transplant, and said author is the only possible donor. Of course, the sister will reside in New Zealand and have eleven children, some of whom are still in diapers, and she will also be the director of an old folks' home that will close unless someone steps in to help until she recovers from her surgery.
If, for example, a person has worked to get something, say a manuscript, done, and if the day comes when that manuscript falls into shape quite nicely and she begins to salivate at the prospect of sending out some submission letters, a call will come to say that a relative who yesterday was perfectly fine is now in the hospital and needs her immediate attention.
I'm guessing that when the day comes that this same author sells her manuscript to the biggest publisher in the U.S. and receives an advance check for 3.4 million dollars, a call will come to let her know that a heretofore unheard-of sister who was given away at birth needs a kidney transplant, and said author is the only possible donor. Of course, the sister will reside in New Zealand and have eleven children, some of whom are still in diapers, and she will also be the director of an old folks' home that will close unless someone steps in to help until she recovers from her surgery.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Rules for Eating
1. You have to.
2. But it's better if you don't.
3. If it tastes good, spit it out.
4. If it tastes like sileage, experts want you to eat it.
5. If it has no fat, it will have calories, and vice versa.
(Corollary: if by some miracle you avoid both fat and calories, there will be a ton of salt.)
6. Living on bread and water used to be the ultimate punishment. Now they want you to give up the bread.
2. But it's better if you don't.
3. If it tastes good, spit it out.
4. If it tastes like sileage, experts want you to eat it.
5. If it has no fat, it will have calories, and vice versa.
(Corollary: if by some miracle you avoid both fat and calories, there will be a ton of salt.)
6. Living on bread and water used to be the ultimate punishment. Now they want you to give up the bread.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Rules for Writing Mystery
1. At the end, the reader should think, "I should have seen that coming, but I didn't."
2. If a character is Too Stupid To Live, he shouldn't.
3. Funny is good, but it does not replace plot.
4. Scary is good, but it does not replace plot.
5. Character is wonderful, but you still have to have a plot.
2. If a character is Too Stupid To Live, he shouldn't.
3. Funny is good, but it does not replace plot.
4. Scary is good, but it does not replace plot.
5. Character is wonderful, but you still have to have a plot.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
What Is It About Autumn?
I feel a sense of urgency, like I have things to get done before...before what? I don't know.
Maybe it's the (recovering) schoolteacher in me, feeling like I need to get ready for school. I know for years after leaving the classroom I had dreams of going there and being totally unprepared. (In the dreams it was usually because they told me I was teaching geometry this year. Yeah, like they didn't know better!)
It could be the primitive cave woman, anxious to stock up for the long winter ahead. I feel like I should be stocking the freezer and pantry with food, just in case.
The cooler weather might be a factor. Less humidity, less stifling heat, and a person just has to feel like moving around more. So what can I get done? I ask myself.
Whatever it is, I'm antsy and haven't been able to concentrate on my WIP. I keep getting up to do a little painting, a little baking, a little cleaning. That's all good, but sooner or later the Writer is going to have to dubdue the Doer. No more making tomato sauce. We need to get this story preserved.
Maybe it's the (recovering) schoolteacher in me, feeling like I need to get ready for school. I know for years after leaving the classroom I had dreams of going there and being totally unprepared. (In the dreams it was usually because they told me I was teaching geometry this year. Yeah, like they didn't know better!)
It could be the primitive cave woman, anxious to stock up for the long winter ahead. I feel like I should be stocking the freezer and pantry with food, just in case.
The cooler weather might be a factor. Less humidity, less stifling heat, and a person just has to feel like moving around more. So what can I get done? I ask myself.
Whatever it is, I'm antsy and haven't been able to concentrate on my WIP. I keep getting up to do a little painting, a little baking, a little cleaning. That's all good, but sooner or later the Writer is going to have to dubdue the Doer. No more making tomato sauce. We need to get this story preserved.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Four Good Ones-Count 'em-FOUR!
If you read me often, you know that I'm always reading mulitple books. It saves having to go find where I left it when I have a few minutes to read. Right now, all four are winners, which is practically unheard of for me.
I mentioned THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO a while back, and I've reached the point where I can see what all the excitement is about. It's got me hooked, although it took a while.
I finished DRINK THE TEA last night and loved it. Kaufman's protagonist is very compelling, and the story moved along quickly with that I-need-to-know-what's-going-to-happen urgency, with flashbacks complementing the present-day stuff.
P.J. Parrish can usually be counted on for a good story, and THE LITTLE DEATH is no exception. Sympathetic characters, interesting backdrop, and solid clue-leads-to-more-knowledge plotting.
And the incomparable Laura Lippman has done it again with I'D KNOW YOU ANYWHERE. The story of a woman who, as a girl, was held captive by a serial killer is told on two levels, now and back then, and I want to know all about both stories.
Of course, I haven't finished three of these books, so there is the remote possibility that these authors tanked in the final third. I doubt it.
I mentioned THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO a while back, and I've reached the point where I can see what all the excitement is about. It's got me hooked, although it took a while.
I finished DRINK THE TEA last night and loved it. Kaufman's protagonist is very compelling, and the story moved along quickly with that I-need-to-know-what's-going-to-happen urgency, with flashbacks complementing the present-day stuff.
P.J. Parrish can usually be counted on for a good story, and THE LITTLE DEATH is no exception. Sympathetic characters, interesting backdrop, and solid clue-leads-to-more-knowledge plotting.
And the incomparable Laura Lippman has done it again with I'D KNOW YOU ANYWHERE. The story of a woman who, as a girl, was held captive by a serial killer is told on two levels, now and back then, and I want to know all about both stories.
Of course, I haven't finished three of these books, so there is the remote possibility that these authors tanked in the final third. I doubt it.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
How Much Is Enough?
George Michael isn't the first to say it, although he said it really well. But the "How much" I'm thinking of is for writers promoting books. How do you know when you've done enough? You can go in twenty different directions, work days, weeks, and months on promotion, and get nothing.
I have a current project that is like that. I've done everything I can think of, and it has gone nowhere. Another project, one I did years ago and pretty much forgot, reaps regular rewards without any exertion of energy on my part. One is not better than the other. Somewhere along the line, one picked up steam and became self-perpetuating, and the other is having a hard time making a start.
I don't get it, but that's the way it is.
I have a current project that is like that. I've done everything I can think of, and it has gone nowhere. Another project, one I did years ago and pretty much forgot, reaps regular rewards without any exertion of energy on my part. One is not better than the other. Somewhere along the line, one picked up steam and became self-perpetuating, and the other is having a hard time making a start.
I don't get it, but that's the way it is.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Shedding Stuff
It's hard to do, harder for some than others. We see shows on TV like "Hoarders" and think, "Glad I'm not like them." But maybe we are.
I spoke with a woman yesterday who has two storage facilities full of stuff, a room in her son's house is stacked to the ceiling, and her own house consists of pathways banked by stuff. She and her husband are building a pole barn to hold more stuff.
Another friend complains that her husband can't stop buying stuff. His passion is old machinery, so they have a dozen ancient tractors, a few bulldozers, an array of farm equipment, and a host of smaller pieces. None of them work, which doesn't matter, because the husband is not a farmer anyway. He just likes owning stuff.
My mother was a great one for stuff. An elementary teacher, she saved things for arts and crafts: empty plastic bowls, used compacts, egg crates, et cetera. When she retired and no longer needed the items, they remained in her basement, gathering dust, getting damp, and taking up space. After her death, it all went into the trash.
So why do people keep stuff they don't need? Theories abound. The fear that we might need it at some point in the future. The fact that many of us have extra space, so there isn't a great need to downsize possessions. The belief that someone, hopefully our children, will be thrilled to inherit our junk when we're gone.
People hire people to come in and help them get rid of junk. TV shows are formed around clutter and getting rid of it. Magazines suggest weird stunts like swap meets where people get together and trade junk. And garage sales, where we actaully pay money for other people's junk. How about simply garnering the self-discipline to look at what you own and sort it into three categories: essentials that you keep, decent stuff that you give to charity, and junk that you jettison, hopefully in an environmentally responsible way. Is that so hard?
I spoke with a woman yesterday who has two storage facilities full of stuff, a room in her son's house is stacked to the ceiling, and her own house consists of pathways banked by stuff. She and her husband are building a pole barn to hold more stuff.
Another friend complains that her husband can't stop buying stuff. His passion is old machinery, so they have a dozen ancient tractors, a few bulldozers, an array of farm equipment, and a host of smaller pieces. None of them work, which doesn't matter, because the husband is not a farmer anyway. He just likes owning stuff.
My mother was a great one for stuff. An elementary teacher, she saved things for arts and crafts: empty plastic bowls, used compacts, egg crates, et cetera. When she retired and no longer needed the items, they remained in her basement, gathering dust, getting damp, and taking up space. After her death, it all went into the trash.
So why do people keep stuff they don't need? Theories abound. The fear that we might need it at some point in the future. The fact that many of us have extra space, so there isn't a great need to downsize possessions. The belief that someone, hopefully our children, will be thrilled to inherit our junk when we're gone.
People hire people to come in and help them get rid of junk. TV shows are formed around clutter and getting rid of it. Magazines suggest weird stunts like swap meets where people get together and trade junk. And garage sales, where we actaully pay money for other people's junk. How about simply garnering the self-discipline to look at what you own and sort it into three categories: essentials that you keep, decent stuff that you give to charity, and junk that you jettison, hopefully in an environmentally responsible way. Is that so hard?
Friday, September 3, 2010
Five Minutes of Your Time
It always turns into a lot more. A quick note from a librarian: "Can you send us infor on your historical costume?" No sweat, I think. But suddenly half an hour is gone. And I could add....NO! Time to move on.
It's true that things expand to fit the time allotted for them, but it's also true that things just expand. Nothing happens as quickly as I think it will when I sit down in this chair.
So here's my theory. Time is bendable, and the Internet has bent it double. Therefore it takes twice the time you expected to get anything done. That's it!
Or it could be all Facebook's fault. Silly videos! Well, maybe one more.
It's true that things expand to fit the time allotted for them, but it's also true that things just expand. Nothing happens as quickly as I think it will when I sit down in this chair.
So here's my theory. Time is bendable, and the Internet has bent it double. Therefore it takes twice the time you expected to get anything done. That's it!
Or it could be all Facebook's fault. Silly videos! Well, maybe one more.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Stress and Good Stress
We all whine about stress, and we certainly have enough of it. It contributes to all sorts of health conditions, which is enough to add stress to the stress you already have: What if all this worrying about stress is causing too much stress?
I think we should step back every once in a while and consider that life is all about stress. Primitive humans must have had stress, because they did not know when the next natural disaster would hit or how such things occurred. They must have worried about being unprepared, which led to all that sacrificing firstborn sons and whatever. Stressful to give up a child, but appeasing the gods seemed like the best stress reliever at the time. We, on the other hand, are warned about most natural disasters well in advance, so we can start worrying early on and avoid the last minute rush.
People in history certainly had stress. The fact that your job performance could get you disemboweled has to lend a certain edge to the morning commute as you ride a donkey to the local castle.
Stress occurs on two levels. First is the stress of having work to accomplish. Knowing you have a deadline, knowing there are multiple steps to master, knowing there will be obstacles. A healthy, functioning person can handle that type of stress. It might make him tired or cranky or frustrated, but it doesn't send him to a rubber room.
It is the things that we cannot change that stress us most. Tasks we don't feel capable of mastering, forces we cannot control, things we cannot fix.
For me, writing and publishing create good stress. I like the challenge, even when it is really challenging. Setbacks might make me sad or mad, but they don't diminish my overall determination. That's good stress, and it actually counters some of the other stresses life throws at a person. Weird, but there it is.
I think we should step back every once in a while and consider that life is all about stress. Primitive humans must have had stress, because they did not know when the next natural disaster would hit or how such things occurred. They must have worried about being unprepared, which led to all that sacrificing firstborn sons and whatever. Stressful to give up a child, but appeasing the gods seemed like the best stress reliever at the time. We, on the other hand, are warned about most natural disasters well in advance, so we can start worrying early on and avoid the last minute rush.
People in history certainly had stress. The fact that your job performance could get you disemboweled has to lend a certain edge to the morning commute as you ride a donkey to the local castle.
Stress occurs on two levels. First is the stress of having work to accomplish. Knowing you have a deadline, knowing there are multiple steps to master, knowing there will be obstacles. A healthy, functioning person can handle that type of stress. It might make him tired or cranky or frustrated, but it doesn't send him to a rubber room.
It is the things that we cannot change that stress us most. Tasks we don't feel capable of mastering, forces we cannot control, things we cannot fix.
For me, writing and publishing create good stress. I like the challenge, even when it is really challenging. Setbacks might make me sad or mad, but they don't diminish my overall determination. That's good stress, and it actually counters some of the other stresses life throws at a person. Weird, but there it is.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Stumbling Along Together
Creating a career in writing is a little like walking through a thick, dark forest at one a.m. on a cloudy night. Your feet find the right path for a while sometimes, but you bounce into tree trunks, get scraped by branches, trip over rocks, and often end up back where you started because you didn't know where you were going.
Let's examine my allegory. Tree trunks might symbolize rejections, that hard thump we get when someone with power over our future says, "Not for us." We reel backward a few steps. We get angry. "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?" we shriek. "Is it bad? Is it not marketable? Is it too much like (or unlike) the latest bestseller?" Then the pain sets in. Ow! That hurt. The tree trunk is unmarred, unreactive.
Then there are the branches that reach out into the path. They don't stop us, but we have to either duck them, go around them, or let them scrape off some hide as we pass. Nasty comments from readers and reviewers. Agents who are too busy to answer our emails or help us plan our careers. Friends who ask why our books aren't on the bestseller lists and why Oprah has never let our names cross her lips.
Rocks that rise up from below and wait to trip us are the things that slow us down: should we write the next chapter or answer those emails that promise better promotion? Being asked to judge a writing contest contributes to a writer's renown, but is the time it's going to take worth losing all those hours? And it's only lunch with a friend! What can a few hours off hurt?
And then there's the aimless wandering. We think we know where we need to go, but so often the paths split, circle back on themselves, or dead end. We spend so much time going the wrong way, and it simply can't be avoided because it's so darned dark out here!
Some of us make it. We don't know how, really, but persistence is a big part of it. One eye is watering from that branch that slapped us in the face, and it took a lot longer than we thought it would, but we reach our goal.
And what do we do? We plunge back into the woods, in the dark, unsure how far ahead that next stopping place is. After all, it's only four a.m. now. There's bound to be a sunrise somewhere up ahead.
Let's examine my allegory. Tree trunks might symbolize rejections, that hard thump we get when someone with power over our future says, "Not for us." We reel backward a few steps. We get angry. "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?" we shriek. "Is it bad? Is it not marketable? Is it too much like (or unlike) the latest bestseller?" Then the pain sets in. Ow! That hurt. The tree trunk is unmarred, unreactive.
Then there are the branches that reach out into the path. They don't stop us, but we have to either duck them, go around them, or let them scrape off some hide as we pass. Nasty comments from readers and reviewers. Agents who are too busy to answer our emails or help us plan our careers. Friends who ask why our books aren't on the bestseller lists and why Oprah has never let our names cross her lips.
Rocks that rise up from below and wait to trip us are the things that slow us down: should we write the next chapter or answer those emails that promise better promotion? Being asked to judge a writing contest contributes to a writer's renown, but is the time it's going to take worth losing all those hours? And it's only lunch with a friend! What can a few hours off hurt?
And then there's the aimless wandering. We think we know where we need to go, but so often the paths split, circle back on themselves, or dead end. We spend so much time going the wrong way, and it simply can't be avoided because it's so darned dark out here!
Some of us make it. We don't know how, really, but persistence is a big part of it. One eye is watering from that branch that slapped us in the face, and it took a lot longer than we thought it would, but we reach our goal.
And what do we do? We plunge back into the woods, in the dark, unsure how far ahead that next stopping place is. After all, it's only four a.m. now. There's bound to be a sunrise somewhere up ahead.
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