The Courage to be Naked
After I finished my first draft of Diamonds in Auschwitz, I wanted to hide my manuscript in a box, under my bed, never to see the light of day again. Why would I want to hide my pages? A book is not a book without readers? Showing them to the world, letting others judge them – it’s like walking around naked. Handing over my story to other people was a tremendously terrifying thing for me. I had to close my eyes, take a deep breath and tap the key.
Part-Time Lover… I mean Writer
If the words I put on a page are not published, is it a book? Am I a writer? My writing aspirations are still a somewhat guarded secret among my friends, acquaintances and day-job co-workers. I only have a file on my computer, a dent in the seat of my office chair, and keyboard keys with the S, D and E worn out to show for my efforts. A professional writer entails having been paid for such efforts. It’s also a badge of honor, in my opinion. Without a book on the shelves of Barnes and Noble, I don’t see that I’ve earned that honor. I shy away from announcing that “I am Writer! Hear Me (or my pen) Roar!” because I’m terrified of failure. “I’m a Writer.”
Confidence is not ‘They will like me.’ Confidence is ‘I’ll be fine if they don’t.’
Sending a manuscript to publishers is a fresh new hell, especially for those who suffer from low confidence and/or crippling imposter syndrome. In all my classes during undergrad, which I took ALL the creative writing ones, never was it mentioned the fortitude of spirit that would be needed to be a writer. Not everyone will like what I wrote, and I will be fine even if they don’t.
Writing and Middle School Robotics
Have you ever attended a middle school robotics competition? In these competitions, there are a lot of misplaced outbursts of anger, a lot of asking “why am I even doing this?”, a lot of tears. I was recently faced with the same dilemma – continue down the path of the novel I was currently writing with very little hope of publishing OR completely start over in hopes of making something spectacular. There was definitely one night of lying in bed deciding that I was done. Done researching, done writing, done trying to make this dream come true. If my twelve-year-old can do it; so can I.
Shopping for an agent at Target
I found my literary agent in Target. And why not? I can find everything else there. In the middle of Target’s health and beauty section, I had a 20-minute conversation with my top pick of literary agents. I felt truly seen. He described my book back to me with all the words I used in my head. The craziest part was that he was trying to sell me on him.
May the Odds Be Ever in Your Favor
After completing the first… and then the second… draft of Diamonds in Auschwitz, I decided it was time to find an agent. I weighed the pros and cons. Then I hit the agency websites. I looked up each agent, again trying to surmise if they were interested in the type of book I had written. Just to keep you in suspense, you’ll have to see my next blog post to find out the results.
The Death of My WIP
My WIP is not dead. I went through the stages of grief. I bought a stack of different nonfiction books, from different locations and different time periods, to find the next story that inspires me and makes me fall in love. I’m excited for my next adventure. My WIP is resting… waiting... frozen in time, until it’s the right time to shine.
Adoption, Injured Geese and the Patience of Publishing
I’m not one to handle disappointments, rejections, failures, etc. stoically, or even well. I look at my daughter today – this daughter who is the perfect one for me at the perfect time. I know that those stacks of NOs from publishers that I am collecting are not really nos, but just not yets.