Thursday, June 16, 2005
The Fool on the Hill.
I know nothing! I thought writing made me a writer... I was quickly disabused of that notion by folk who'd actually finished a book.
I finished a book. Wonderful. Now I'm a writer.
...er, no. Lots of people write books. Go and put your ego on the line and submit it to a publisher.
Check. Submit to publisher. No problem. They'll love it. They'll love me because I'm brilliant. I finished a book and every word is gold.
Reality check: fastest rejection. Ever. Not even a commonplace, 'feel free to submit something else in future'.
Assume foetal position for several days. Pick up shattered remains of what's left of my self confidence and analyse the problem.
Was my story really that bad? Does my writing suck that much? The correct response is both yes and no.
So what went wrong? The answers to that are abundant, and brings me back to my opening comment--I know nothing! Well I knew nothing. Now a know a few things. Editors don't actually edit, (at least not my naive perception of what editing is.). Those whacky guys want a polished piece of work, they want a query letter that doesn't mention how I live with my pet turtle fluffy. They want a synopsis that clearly outlines the the protagonists emotional journey, growth and triumph, instead of, and then there's this big fire which leaves them homeless, and then they get an inheritance from an unknown uncle, and then, and then, and... . You get the drift.
Ultimately, I thought writing the book was all I needed to do because, dammit, in my dewy dream-writing world, other people take care of all the nitty-gritty, mundane tasks of polishing, proof reading etc. What a fool!
So I set out to learn. And jayz did I learn. I learnt my grammar sucks, my punctuation is atrocious, but my spelling and vocabulary aren't so bad (yay me!). Plotting, pacing and emotion; all solid. So it wasn't all soul crushing defeat. There were some positive things.
I was invited to join a critique group where other writers, not only, offered constructive suggestions on my work, but respected my opinions in regards to theirs. World? I am not a complete loser.
I wrote a second book. Believe it or not, this one was even better that the first (is that even possible?). This one I haven't sent in for submission yet. I'm still editing and working on the synopsis. The query letter is very professional and ready to go as soon as the 'polishing' is finished, but I'm in no rush this time. Meanwhile, I began my third book and, you guessed it, it's my best effort to date. I can't wait to see how this one ends.
X
PS: I don't really own a turtle named fluffy, and no actual homeless people were charicatured in my first book.
I finished a book. Wonderful. Now I'm a writer.
...er, no. Lots of people write books. Go and put your ego on the line and submit it to a publisher.
Check. Submit to publisher. No problem. They'll love it. They'll love me because I'm brilliant. I finished a book and every word is gold.
Reality check: fastest rejection. Ever. Not even a commonplace, 'feel free to submit something else in future'.
Assume foetal position for several days. Pick up shattered remains of what's left of my self confidence and analyse the problem.
Was my story really that bad? Does my writing suck that much? The correct response is both yes and no.
So what went wrong? The answers to that are abundant, and brings me back to my opening comment--I know nothing! Well I knew nothing. Now a know a few things. Editors don't actually edit, (at least not my naive perception of what editing is.). Those whacky guys want a polished piece of work, they want a query letter that doesn't mention how I live with my pet turtle fluffy. They want a synopsis that clearly outlines the the protagonists emotional journey, growth and triumph, instead of, and then there's this big fire which leaves them homeless, and then they get an inheritance from an unknown uncle, and then, and then, and... . You get the drift.
Ultimately, I thought writing the book was all I needed to do because, dammit, in my dewy dream-writing world, other people take care of all the nitty-gritty, mundane tasks of polishing, proof reading etc. What a fool!
So I set out to learn. And jayz did I learn. I learnt my grammar sucks, my punctuation is atrocious, but my spelling and vocabulary aren't so bad (yay me!). Plotting, pacing and emotion; all solid. So it wasn't all soul crushing defeat. There were some positive things.
I was invited to join a critique group where other writers, not only, offered constructive suggestions on my work, but respected my opinions in regards to theirs. World? I am not a complete loser.
I wrote a second book. Believe it or not, this one was even better that the first (is that even possible?). This one I haven't sent in for submission yet. I'm still editing and working on the synopsis. The query letter is very professional and ready to go as soon as the 'polishing' is finished, but I'm in no rush this time. Meanwhile, I began my third book and, you guessed it, it's my best effort to date. I can't wait to see how this one ends.
X
PS: I don't really own a turtle named fluffy, and no actual homeless people were charicatured in my first book.
