So, a few weeks ago, I was speaking with a friend who is also a writer, but not yet published, and I told this particular friend that the best time in a writer's life seems like the time before anyone ever suggests publishing you.
My friend looked at me like I was crazy.
But I'll stick to my guns on that one and give a stern be-careful-what-you-wish-for caveat.
There are lots of reasons why I believe this, and before anyone gets all outraged at me, let me explain why.
[And I am NOT whining here, either... being published is great... it's kind of like how being married compares to dating... er... it's like eating the cake that you've HAD for a really long time... it's like dolphin-free tuna... or something]
Before you get published, when you write, you write for yourself and nobody else.
You're not writing to pay the mortgage and put your kids through college.
Most importantly, before you get published, the writing universe ticks to the rhythm of your clock.
I explained to my friend that once you get published, one of the toughest adjustments (at least for me) is coming to grips with the fact that NOTHING will ever move along at your pace and rhythm.
Ever.
Again.
So, enjoy this time.
It really is the best time in a writer's life.
Unless you happen to be writing for some other reason other than loving words and language (like trying to get famous, needing the ego stroke of seeing your name on some shelf, desperately yearning for someone to ask you for an autograph, or any other completely ridiculous and lame-assed reason why, it seems, an awful lot of people want to get published).
Here's a typical case-in-point:
I've been writing a new novel. It's coming along really great. Lots of progress every day, and when I go to bed at night I lie there thinking about how I can't wait to write the next part tomorrow.
That's how it should always be.
Then, yesterday, the pages for my next novel, Stick show up on my front door.
I have to read them.
I can't NOT do that. I need to be certain they're perfect.
And I totally love that book, maybe more than anything I've ever written. But the voice and everything about it completely RIPS me out of the thing I'm doing right now. And now I feel torn because I can't write what I went to bed last night dying to get down.
Because my writing universe is caught up in a bunch of other forces at the moment.
I just need to plow through this and get back to work, but Stick is definitely fucking with my head and throwing all my orbits out of whack.
Just thought I'd let you know what a great space you're in right now.
Enjoy this time.
3 comments:
I don't think that your point is that shocking. I mean sure, I want to be published, that is the whole point, I suppose ... but, really? It isn't.
The point is to tell stories. The real reason I started to write my novel is that no one was telling the story I wanted to read. So I decided to tell it myself. Right now, in the middle of revisions, I'm having more fun with my creativity than I ever have in my whole life.
Yes. I want to get published. Sure. It would be great to get paid. But, honestly, as long as I can write my story, edit it until it sings, and get people (real people who don't know me) to read it, and hopefully enjoy it, I won't give a shit about fame or fortune.
I've got a soul sucking day job that pays the bills. The chances of ever making enough money off of books to quit doing it are slim to none.
You hit the nail on the head with this one. I am really struggling with the fact that I am dying to start a new story. DYING! (Sorry, gratuitous exclamation just for you.) But I can't because I am still in the middle of line edits for a novel. And after that, I have to recheck the revision on another novel that I finished and make sure I still like it enough to send it to my agent and THEN I can start tinkering with something new.
For me, the best part of writing is the first draft. I love the first draft and yet it's been four months since I typed brand new words on a brand new story.
And yet, that is the reality. we get jerked out of our own writing universe all the time.
And Matthew, I've got an intense job as well. There are the needs of that job that come into play and mess with my writing ALL THE TIME, too.
C'est la vie I suppose.
Shelley
This is right where I am, too. I'm reading first pass pages. I'm revising something else that my agent is waiting for. I'm going to work. And if there's time at the end of the day (and there's not), I'm writing something new.
I love the novel that's being released this fall, and I love the novel my agent is waiting for. But neither of them compares to this new thing.
And in a few years, when first pass pages for this new thing roll in, I will not love it as much as I love whatever I'm working on at that moment.
I kind of love this part, though. Everywhere I look, there's a novel.
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