A Bit of a Ramble About...Who, Who and What

This week the Wordcrafter posted a lament about the Secret Society of One in the world of writing. It is an interesting and heart-felt article and you can read it on The New Author's Fellowship. While you're there, check out PA Baines' most recent post as well. It is humorous as well as informational. He speaks with the voice of "been there, done that, and now it's just funny." It also dovetails nicely into my ramble for today, sparked by Wordcrafter's frustration.

I feel your pain, Keven. I, too, have wanted answers in a writing world that seems unable or unwilling to provide them. We fall into that gray area of "unpublished but not unskilled." We aren't green to writing, just to the business of writing.

I've come up with my own three answers to this question of how to get published: who, who and what. These three questions apply to more than publishing, but this blog is generally about writing and I'll keep that the focus.

It's who you know, who you are, and what you got.

From here, I address this post to my readers at large, not to any one particular reader or writer (I'm writing second person, and that can sound accusatory. That's why in therapy you have to use "I" statements, not "you" statements. Occasionally, you can get away with "I feel blank when you do blank," but I digress. Back to topic).

The advice about attending conferences is generic yet pervasive. I have heard it from every single published writer I've ever read or heard. The premise is basic: publishers attend conferences. If you want to meet publishers, you go to conferences. 'Cause it's about Who You Know.

I work at a magazine. Our editors are flooded with press releases clamoring for attention for their oh-so-special product. The product may be special, but unless it's so special no one's ever heard of anything like it before yet it is obviously essential to the floral industry, it's not going to get noticed in all the noise. Now, add a little personality to it, like "I remember this gal with the hat from Florida," and you got yourself a chance to get in the magazine. Slim chance, but a chance.

I'm not recommending you wear a hat, but it is a good idea to make yourself memorable at conferences. Preferably by not being an...idiot. I was going to use another word and edited myself for Susie's sake. Please feel free to use your favorite slur in that sentence.

This is where it's Who You Are. If you are the kind of person that editor or publisher connects with, your manuscript has a better chance. You won't connect with every publisher. You may connect, but the timing may be wrong for now. All kinds of things may happen. But Who You Are after you meet someone will leave an impression. If it is the right impression, you're one step closer.

Which brings me to the final point. It's What You Got. You've met your publisher. You've connected. You're in the deli enjoying pickles and chips and you hand over your manuscript. Your completely inappropriate, unpublishable-no-matter-how-cool-you-are manuscript, and you're done. So you have to have something worth presenting.

This last part is actually the easiest, although in this scenario, easy is a relative term. Most writers have the ability to polish their skills and develop some good stories without a publisher. Especially in this age of computer access and online critique groups.

I suppose this is the fourth leg of this Ramble Stool: How Long You Try (this is where PABaines's post makes sense). For the vast majority, achievement takes time and hard work. Elder Brother is reading a book that says the difference between successes and failures is 10,000 hours. He'll correct me if I'm wrong, and supply the name of the book, too, so wait for it.

A writer posted a tale on The Anomaly of a lady who met the head of Random House (or one of the big ones) at a kid's softball game and got her book published that year. Complete quirk. Except, maybe it's Who She Knew (the head of a publishing house), Who She Was (somebody that impressed him with the ability to write about her topic) and What She Got (a story considered worthy after the hotdog euphoria wore off). And who knows How Long She Tried?

It may be cliche, but I think each of us have a different row to hoe. God uses our writing to teach us lessons as well as our readers. Life has taught me it's better to struggle through and gain the experience than jump straight to the top and get in over your head (is that a mixed metaphor?).

So buck up, Wordcrafter. Your time will come. We all know it. It's just a matter of who, who, what
and how long.

Small comfort, huh?

A Bit of A Ramble About...Expulsion

Got you with the title, didn't I? Hee hee!

What goes in must come out. We've all heard it. It's officially cliche. It's still true.

I mention "worldview" a lot. It's a consequence of multiple attendences (is that a word? I don't care, it works) of Focus on the Family's The Truth Project. If you have the opportunity to attend one, take it. It will change your life. I would hope for the better. Then again, ignorance is bliss.

I've read a lot of contemporary Christian fiction in the past few months: published, unpublished, critique-group rough drafts, blog posts and message boards. I haven't read this much Christian literature since high school. You know... before the mortgage.

I was asked recently who was the Christian element in Star of Justice. Interesting question. Anyone spot the worldview issue? Should the Christian element be one character or should it be a theme throughout? 

In Biloxi Blues, Matthew Broderick's character learns that people believe what they read. It's been a while since I saw the movie, so I don't remember all the details, but his journal gets stolen and read aloud to his bunk mates with unfortunate results. He never intended for those thoughts to be read aloud. His views of his fellows said more about him than them, but the group dynamic changes after that incident.

I've said on numerous occasions that the skill of writing is separate from the writer, but they aren't as separate as I would like to believe. The skill expresses the writer's intent, after all. It is the story inside the writer's head that emerges on the page. What's inside must come out.

What if the inside is rotten? You get rotten books.

I used to enjoy Laurell Hamilton's vampire books. They are not even remotely Christian stories, but the first three had a moral center I found refreshing in contemporary literature. Then something happened to the author. I don't know what; I suspect a divorce. Her main character turned hard, and homicidal, and morally subjective, and well, just plain nasty. I don't buy her books anymore, and I've thrown away most of the ones I did buy.

I have no idea what George MacDonald read in his spare time. Greek and Latin, no doubt. But the books he produced leak Christianity. Some of them have mythical elements to them (Lilith, for example), but the concepts expressed throughout are most definitely Biblical.

For Christian authors, you may think you have one "Christian element" in your book. You'd be wrong. Your worldview permeates everything you create. Your unexamined beliefs will spill out onto the page and tell anyone who cares to look everything they need to know about you.

It's a little scary. It's a huge responsibility. What goes in must come out.

I recommend being very careful about what you put in.

A Bit of A Ramble About...Role Play

When I say "role play," most Christians see drunk teenagers wearing cloaks and swords roaming the woods at midnight chopping up virgins and summoning demons with a ouija board.

That may happen. I wouldn't know. I wouldn't take part in such an event. Too much like theater.

When I say "role play," I mean no more than seven people sitting around a large table with a map, dice and a rulebook playing a game far more interesting than Monopoly.

Here's a run-down:
The GM (Game Master) creates a story, usually a quest involving a search for treasure, the overthrow of some evil power and often the rescue of innocents along the way (sounds a lot like a video game, doesn't it?).

The players (no more than six or it just gets dull waiting for your turn during battles) create characters who join this quest. My group was very serious about character creation. Our characters had backgrounds, life histories, spouses/siblings - all sorts of things that might be used by the GM as part of the plot.

The actual effect of the game is to create a story. The GM provides the plot, the players provide the action and dialogue and plot twists, and together you create something you want to talk about for years (and no one else wants to hear).

For example, Kirk was the first character I role-played. He had a great respect for bears. Our GM forgot about this and used bears as guards for a cave we had to enter. The bears were killed. Kirk was so devastated he left the party and went on a quest of absolution to cleanse himself of the evil. Result: Kirk was no longer in the game.

(The GM was quite annoyed, but, hey, that's what Kirk the character would have done. Galena was created as a result, and I love her, so it's all good.)

The story took a different turn because of the background of the character, and we ran with it, and got a great new story.

I used to take notes, write them up in "cool" form and bring them back for everyone to read at the next game. That was fun, too.

I miss my group, but in the years since we dissolved, I started writing my own stories about those characters I created. That led to Star of Justice, and I can't be upset about that.

Now you know what I mean when I say "role play."

And I only wear my cloak at RenFest.

A Bit of A Ramble About...Pride

Pride is my top deadly sin. Gluttony and Sloth are tied for second place, but since I don't weigh 500 lbs and live unemployed in my parents' basement, I'll stick with Pride as number one.

Why pride? Allow me to quote George MacDonald from The Lost Princess:
"As she grew up, everybody about her did his best to convince her that she was Somebody; and the girl herself was so easily persuaded of it that she quite forgot that anybody had ever told her so, and took it for a fundamental, innate, primary, first-born, self-evident, necessary, and incontrovertible idea and principle that she was Somebody."

I could be either girl in that story. While I identify with Rosamund, I fear I resemble Agnes. I would hope I no longer walk her path.

Fortunately, God in His wisdom sent a thorn in my flesh in my 12th year of life. I learned there were other Somebodies in the world besides myself. I've been learning it one way or another ever since.

So, while pride is my problem, I have two advantages in my fight against it. One, I know it's my problem. Two, I don't like it.

I recently told a friend that my default state is cynical, perfectionistic, and critical to the point of cruelty. My family calls it "being honest." Normal people call it "being mean." I suspect the normals have the right of it.

Couple this default state with the Judgment aspect of my personality type according to Meiers-Briggs, and I can seem quite heartless and insufferably arrogant. I can do it without trying, actually. (Hmm. Does that sound proud?)

My point with this post is complicated. On the one hand, I want you my readers to know I struggle with this and to know that I know I struggle with this. On the other hand, I also want you to know that my prideful statements are rarely deliberate (unless they're funny. I have to go for the funny). It is a remnant of my fallen nature, something Christ will continue to draw out of me as long as I live.

My brother and I once got into an argument that went something like this:
"You are never wrong," he said.
"That's not true," I replied.
He rolled his eyes and left. It took me years to understand why. Turtle proud but not always bright.

I am not perfect. I can be mean, but I promise I don't do it on purpose anymore. My Jesus frowns on such behavior, and I try very hard to make Him proud of me.

I guess I'm saying it helps to read the turtle with a grain of salt, because I can't always tell when my words are hard to swallow.

You, my readers, have permission to call me out for bad behavior. It's one of my rules.

A Bit of A Ramble About...Time

I was thinking last night about my childhood. Eighth grade, specifically, the year of Trapper Keepers, sneakers with velcro instead of shoestrings, and the erasable Bic pen. Good times.

I wrote back then, too, little snippets of scenes and stories that took my fancy and petered off as I lost interest. Nothing finished. Nothing terribly noteworthy.

My teacher Mr. Freidline gave us a writing assignment: what will you be doing when you're 30?
I told him I couldn't complete such an assignment because I didn't expect to be alive at 30. I think I annoyed him with that response (otherwise, except for one incident with a bug collection, we got along famously). I don't remember what I wrote for the assignment. A complete fabrication, no doubt.
I honestly didn't expect the world to be around by the time I was 30. Yet, here it is, eight years after the fact, and shows every indication of continuing for a while.

I wonder what my life would be like if I'd actually finished stories back then. If I'd sought publication when I was 15 and attending conferences, or 19 and writing continually in college, or even 21, when I "officially" finished my first book (that was Past Ties, but it wouldn't qualify as finished to me today because I left too many loose ends that I planned to address in the sequel Present Tense).

In The Last Unicorn by Peter Beagle (one of my favorite books ever), the author tells us unicorns don't feel regret. A useful lack for an immortal creature. Eternity wishing you had chosen differently would be hell.

I've tried to live my life that way. Not by trying to experience everything, but by deciding not to regret the choices I make along the way. No point in regretting what cannot be changed.

I don't consider the intervening 20+ years between me then and me now wasted. I am a different person than that fourteen year old. I hope my writing has improved and my stories have gained depth and wisdom.

God is teaching me the journey is as important as the destination. Each step builds on the one before and prepares the way for the next. Taking the steps, even in my plodding, turtle way, is what matters. Persistence provides payoff.

It is not a regret, necessarily, but I do hope I have time to write more books. Now that I have a taste of the joy of completion as well as the agony of creation, I find I like it. I'd like to do more of it.
In the hopes that the world continues, I will continue, as well, without regret and with my eyes focused on the goal of completion, one story at a time.