The Beauty of NaNo

Last night, I hit the 10,000 words mark — twenty percent of the novel is done! No, not really — first of all, there’s the fact that I’m writing between two novels. Second, 50,000 words is not the optimal length of a novel.

But it’s a big, round number, and that’s the idea. Not even NaNo pretends that you’ll have a publishable final product at the end of November. But you’ll have something to start with, or something that you keep to yourself and say, “I wrote this!”

Progress as it stands — I can see the finish line of Whose Hearts are Mountains, knowing that I have a lot of work to do afterward. Richard has restored some of the stuff I took out in the edit of Gaia’s Hands and emphasized things I need to emphasize. He has lots of work to go. It’s nice to think that that novel can be salvaged.

I’m still waiting for the other publishing editor to come up with edits of the first 50 pages of Prodigies. I am beginning to wonder about her — she couldn’t find anything wrong with my query letter, whereas the other publishing editor helped me improve my query letter in ways even I could see. I would work with one of these people again — not so the other one.

I’m beginning to feel like a writer again. That’s what NaNo does for me.

Day 5 NaNo — and a big surprise

Something strange happened on the way to my NaNo count yesterday. I started becoming interested in writing on Whose Hearts are Mountains again. I don’t know how it happened, but I looked at it yesterday after getting my word count yesterday, and I started writing.

NaNo is surprisingly lenient about this — they say you have to write 50,000 words, and they count writing exercises (word sprints) toward this. I suspect I’m legal writing on two books during this time, and if not, I’ll just have to shrug and say “I’d rather ride this wave of success”.

I’m discovering that Whose Hearts are Mountains is going to be shorter than I’d thought at probably 75,000 words. That’s 4500 words more. It’s probably long enough, and it will get a little longer when I come back and add in some descriptive stuff and other editing. But I’m writing more than 20 words a day on it. Yay NaNo!

I’m still writing on Becoming Kringle, and I will probably work more on it as we approach the
In other developments, Richard is editing my problem child (now our problem child), Gaia’s Hands.
The Gaia stories overlap with Apocalypse and Reclaiming the Balance, but deal more with humans. So we’re co-authoring, and wondering if we should have both our names (I vote yes) or the combined pseudonym Lauren Richards (his vote yes).

So I’m re-energized for writing, and anticipate that December is going to be an editing, rather than a writing month.

Facing my fears (writing related)

My worst fear about writing is that, after developmental editors and publishing coaches, I will be left with this choice: Write what I love or get published.

I have gotten several rejections by agents. I don’t know if anyone will read me if I self-publish, because I’ve never been good at self-promotion.

There, I said it.

This has been my fear all along, that I will hit a dead end in my writing career — and yes, I think of it as a career, or at least the start of a career.

If that’s the worst thing that can happen, what are the possibilities?

I keep trying to find an agent, with the great possibility that revising my query materials will not attract an agent.
I self-publish, trying to get a readership on my own, which scares me to bits, because I hate self-promotion. I am convinced there’s a psychological disorder called “Midwestern Female Syndrome” in which sufferers display inward perfection while at the same time striving to look mediocre to others
I give up writing novels, because it’s really a waste of time to write novels that nobody reads.

I don’t have more than three possibilities in my mind. My mentor Les says that’s a bad thing, because there are always more than two options. I, however, cannot quit until I’ve exhausted all avenues.

On the flip side, how would I measure success?

An agent, and eventually a publisher if going the traditional route
At least 1000 copies sold of a self-published book, without having to resort to buying the books myself and reselling them
In the short run, at least breaking even on the investments I put into coaching, editing, and other items.

My vision, or where I would like to be:

Money to supplement my retirement in 10 or so years
A devoted readership
A book signing tour
The confidence to say I’m an author

I think my goals are realistic — perhaps too modest, but realistic.

This is where I am, world.

If you could send encouragement (non-anonymous preferred), prayers, wishes, or advice I’d greatly appreciate it.

Dear Universe (warning: frustrated writer)

Dear Universe:

I don’t know how I feel about my writing right now. When I started writing, I felt I had things to say, things about true heroes meeting the world with kindness, peacefulness, and acceptance of others. I wrote about these things, edited my stories, and eventually submitted them to agents. And I got hundreds of rejections for them.

I realized I needed help making my works better, and I submitted my work to beta readers and a developmental editor to polish the stories, Then I submitted a few of them again to agents. And got many, many more rejections.

There is a Quaker concept (yes, I’m a Quaker) called “praying for a way to open.” I have been doing that for a long time, even though I wonder if I have a right for the way to open given how much more privileged I am than too many people out there. I have not seen a way opening; in fact, every time I feel a glimmer of hope, another door closes. I pursue ideas for publication — the Kindle Scout program, which shut down just as my book was submitted; asking a successful author to put in a word for me; submitting directly to presses that take direct submissions. None of these have succeeded for me.

It is not that I am not trying, Universe; I have tried harder than (I believe) most. I do not say this because I want to guilt you into opening a door to me. I say this merely to point out that I need some guidance so I know whether to keep trying or not. I need to know whether I really have something important to say or if this is just a matter of my own self-importance. It seems to me that kindness and peacefulness, not to mention acceptance of others is even more needed now than it was when I started writing.

So here I am, asking for a way to open — or for a clear indication that I shouldn’t seek out publication anymore.

Love, Lauren

Recovery

“Here, this won’t hurt a bit.”

This is my favorite picture from Missouri Hope’s moulage headquarters. Here I’m demonstrating various techniques on one of our moulage artists who was kind enough to let me bruise and cut her up pretty badly.

I estimated from yesterday’s stats — 180 roleplayers in three shifts, 4-6 moulage artists per shift — that boils down to 7-10 roleplayer moulages per person per hour.

I haven’t totally recovered yet. I feel like I have jet lag although I haven’t gone anywhere — except to the mythical country of Atlantica, torn by tensions between north and south, crippled by an earthquake and its aftermath. A country I helped create.

Life will be back to normal, back to writing, in a day or so, when I find my feet on firm ground and arrive home again.

Positive today

I find it miraculous at times that I am still writing, that I still consider myself a writer, despite all the rejections and the setbacks. Maybe this has become part of who I am, and getting published will just be, as they say, the whipped cream on top of my mug of hot chocolate.

(Note to readers: Tell me your favorite hot chocolate recipe. I will feature you in a future column.)

It’s Sunday, and I’m going out to write today. I’m finally done with the major revision of Apocalypse and all I need is a pass-through to send to my dev editor. My goal is to try to finish Whose Hearts are Mountains before NaNo time, so I can have fun writing a Santa-filled romance novel (more quirky and meet-cute than Hunky Santa in a G-String, if you know what I mean.)

I have not given up.

Happy National Coffee Day!

I am sitting in my usual table at the Board Game Cafe, drinking my first mug of coffee for the day and writing.

Coffee appears to be the favored drink of writers, and I don’t think it’s just because of the caffeine (although I’ll admit it’s part of the draw). Coffee has romance — whether this is because of the hard-boiled detective detective swilling black-as-sin cups, the dark thick cup of coffee with friends in a Turkish coffeehouse, the Parisian espresso or the cup of joe in a dingy city diner.

Coffee drinkers share an image that suits them well as writers. Coffee drinkers are facing their early mornings and lack of sleep with a bracing beverage that bolsters their courage to face the world. Armed with a computer and a cup of coffee, the writer can slay dragons.

I’ve finished my first cup of coffee. Time to write on my latest work, sitting in the Board Game Cafe on a cloudy, rainy early morning. The street sign reads “N. Main”, and the traffic sign says “Walk”, and at the moment, full of coffee, I think anything’s possible.

Happy Coffee Day!

I don’t know what to write!

NaNoWriMo is approaching, (November 1st) and I don’t know what to write.

I’ve been in editing mode — Apocalypse is a good amount of the way done edit-wise, while I just got handed back my first novel, Gaia’s Hands, from the developmental editor. I have enough editing for the next couple months at least.

But NaNo is about writing, not editing.

I haven’t written new for a while because of my editing needs. Although I haven’t finished Whose Hearts are Mountains, there’s not enough material left to make the 50,000 word total for NaNo.

I need an idea for a new novel by November 1.

I have a couple on the back burner: the sequel to Voyageurs, where our two characters time travel to stop the end of the world due to climate change, but that doesn’t appeal to me. In fact, I feel like I’ve backed myself into a corner writing a book that obviously has a sequel. It’s not just the research I would have to do, but the fact that I don’t know if I have enough plot to support the 80,000 word minimum for whatever genre it is.

The other involves an Archetype war with hideous implications for humans. I am so far away from the Archetype universe right now that I don’t know if I can create this.

I need inspiration — help!

Muse, if you’re out there, inspire me!

Writing and the Balance

Yesterday I felt unbalanced.

It’s been a busy work week, just as it promises to be a busy semester. I have three research projects I’ll be working on, plus recreating a new class or two, plus the usual teaching and student work. I spent all of yesterday creating a new syllabus for a class, something that should have taken me a week or so.

(I promise you I’m not hypomanic, just busy.)

In addition, I got three rejections yesterday. That brings me up to 1/4 of my queries coming back as rejections in four days. At least they rejected me quickly.

After it all, I felt unbalanced, like I always do when there’s too much work and not enough pleasurable things in my life. I used to think what I needed was recognition — to get noticed, to get published, to get an award or something. In other words, to get what I would call a “cookie”.

Yesterday I realized that I don’t need cookies. I need, instead, to get rid of feeling bad.

In other words, I need to get back into balance. And I’m coming to realize that writing, in and of itself, helps me feel balanced. (So do good smells, reading, tub soaks, and surprising new discoveries).

So I will persevere and keep writing.

Rethinking why I write

Once upon a time, I wrote because I desperately needed to be heard.

I don’t feel that pressure so much anymore. I think that it took working with a developmental editor to let that go, because I realized that I could act like a professional and take writing seriously without someone bestowing a first-place ribbon on my work. In other words, I don’t need to be published to prove anything.

But now that the immediate, inner child’s need to be heard is no longer applicable, I’m wondering if it’s truly worth it to get published.

I have heard from agents that they’re getting 500 queries a day. This means all they can do is skim them and pick what “jumps out” at them. I could be an excellent writer, but because I’m not prone to sensationalism, what I write may not “jump out”. I think I need to accept that.

I may never get published. I say this dispassionately — the odds are very poor, no matter how good a writer I am, no matter how much I publish. If I get a foot in the door, I may get more published because I will be a recognizable commodity. But right now, Prodigies (my most polished/edited piece) has gotten four rejections and I just sent it out.

I don’t know where that leaves me relative to writing or publishing. I currently have almost no free time because when I’m not working, I’m writing. I’m feeling uninspired.

I may need to rethink whether this is my calling.