Writers in the Storm

Kathryn Craft

Turning Whine Into Gold

“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,” wrote Leo Tolstoy in 1877, in the memorable and beloved opening to Anna Karenina. But lately I’ve been wondering if perhaps the opposite isn’t true—that people are happy for all sorts of reasons, but unhappy for only one: that life isn’t fair.

Either way, I love such pronouncements. They make me think. I am drawn to discussing the latter here because if there is an industry one might choose that perfectly exemplifies unfairness, it is the one in which every reader of this post is engaged. And when you think about it, the publishing frustrations that make us feel whiny boil down to a variation on one sentence.

It is not fair that this other author got _______ (an agent on her third query, a sale without a synopsis, a hard-cover edition, a three-book deal, on the New York Times list, a six-figure advance, any sort of promotional budget or creative marketing, so much mainstream media coverage, such rabid fans, so many Amazon reviews, such distinctive awards, so many foreign rights sales, a movie deal, a five-city or five-continent book tour, or genes that keep her slim despite the fact that she puts in just as many hours behind the computer as you do and posts just as many Facebook photos of wine and chocolate) and I didn’t.

Tell me you’ve never uttered a single one of these things, at least in private.

(Mm-hmm. I haven’t either.)

Facts:

Publishing has always been a highly selective industry.

Not everyone will find representation.

Not everyone will get published.

Not everyone who gets published once will publish again.

Not every book can get every kind of promotion or recognition.

Some foreign publishers won’t care what you write, just as many of the American ones didn’t.

Conclusion:

It is not possible for every career to look the same.

In times of great disappointment, this conclusion will still make sense to the left side of your brain, even as the more affective side dissolves into a hot mess.

Imagine this next sentence in a dreamy voice:

“Imagine a publishing world in which we all feel we have been dealt with fairly…”

Oops. There are problems with that.

• If everyone got published, “discoverability” would be just as laughable a notion as “sales.”
• We storytellers would be out of a job.

If no one were ever thrust into awkward, humiliating, or painful situations—if none of us were ever beaten down by life’s unfairness—even we would have no need for stories in which our beleaguered hero would rise again and prevail. For stories that expose pockets of hidden richness. Stories with twists that show there isn’t only one highway to a happy ending. Because despite the way Tolstoy set up his story, characters, like determined real-life people, can find happiness in all sorts of ways.

The injustices we suffer make us want to set things right. Overcoming obstacles is the only way we can know, to paraphrase the opening of another classic—Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield—“whether we shall turn out to be the heroes of our own lives.” We feel most successful when an unfair system leaves us the momentary victor.

To develop the even keel that will drive us ever forward, writers are left with the complex task of accepting all of the following:

• life isn’t fair.
• our own industry will never be fair.
• given the chance, we’ll capitalize on that unfairness to our own advantage.
• competition fuels both our desire and the health of the industry. 

I know it hurts when others get recognition that you desire. (Not “deserve,” mind you—in the absence of a meritocracy, that word helps no one’s spirit.) The next time you want to melt into a weepy mush, go ahead and mutter the words—Life isn’t fair—because it’s absolutely true.

But then dry your tears and add: Thank goodness.

Let’s get real. Have you mastered the art of being truly happy for the accomplishments of fellow authors? How have you used your disappointments to drive you forward?

About Kathryn

Kathryn Craft is the author of two novels from Sourcebooks: The Art of Falling, and The Far End of Happy.

Her work as a developmental editor at Writing-Partner.com, specializing in storytelling structure and writing craft, follows a nineteen-year career as a dance critic. Long a leader in the southeastern Pennsylvania writing scene, she hosts lakeside writing retreats for women in northern New York State, leads workshops, and speaks often about writing.

Kathryn lives with her husband in Bucks County, PA.

Twitter: @kcraftwriter
FB: KathrynCraftAuthor

Chuck Sambuchino

GIVEAWAY: In two weeks time, Chuck will pick a random commenter from this post to win his book, Get a Literary Agent. Simply comment to win. Good luck!

Sometimes when I talk to writers, I’ll hear them try to justify a writing decision or book element by comparing their story to other published work that’s quite unlike their own project. An example looks like this:

I’ll teach about suggested word count for debut novels.

 Then a writer will say, “Did you read Harry Potter, dude? Those books were way longer than what you advise. Buffoon.”

Something like that. It doesn’t have to be about word count, but the gist is that the writer will point to a successful book, flabbergasted, and essentially say, “That book did such-and-such, and the book succeeded, so I’m certainly OK doing it that way, too.”

So with that in mind, let me throw out some personal opinions on what not to do when comparing your work to other books, especially when you’re trying to justify when your work does not need rethinking or fixing or revising.

1. Beware comparing your work to the current books of a bestselling author.

Examine Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol, which was published after his colossal success of The Da Vinci Code. It begins with a prologue, and then a dream sequence. First of all, agents generally frown upon prologues. But even if we give the prologue a free pass, dream sequences to start a book are universally disliked by agents and editors. (I hate them, too—except at the beginning of Total Recall, because that was awesome—but that’s a movie, and movies are different, as we shall soon discuss.)

Brown can get away with something like a beginning dream sequence because his books sell millions of copies, and people are going to buy them no matter what. He’s super established, with a seven-figure readership, so don’t necessarily try getting away with what he does in his current works—because he can make writing decisions that debut authors cannot.

This applies to all authors of today who are constantly on the fiction bestseller lists, such as James Patterson, Stephen King, Sandra Brown, and many more.

     2.  Beware comparing your work to novels written decades (or more) in the past.                                          

Look at Moby-Dick. There are some beautiful things about that book, but it’s commonly said (by me and my friends, at least) that half the book can be cut. I really don’t think that book would get published today in its current form. It would be cut down—perhaps drastically.

So don’t point to a novel written 20 years ago or 150 years ago and say, for example, “Well, that book took its sweet time to get interesting, so my book will, as well. After all, people love chapter upon chapter of meticulous description before any conflict occurs…”

3. Beware comparing your work to novels that were first published outside your country.

Because I’m embedded in the U.S. publishing market, I believe it’s unwise for U.S. writers to look at novels first published in Sweden or Russia or Japan, and say, “Well that book did such-and-such, so I can do it that way, too,” such as, “Well that book had oodles of gore and horrific things happening on page 1—even a gruesome rape—so my book can start that way, too.”

That’s an extreme example. But the point is that comparing the literary sensibilities of Japanese readers to American readers, for instance, makes no sense, because we don’t understand if cultural differences or literary expectations/traditions separate us.

4. Beware comparing your work to movies.

Do not think that just because a movie did something that a debut novel can, as well. They’re completely different mediums.

I wrote about this before for Writers in the Storm, explaining the difference between how a movie can begin, versus how a novel should begin the same story to best hook readers in.

5. Beware comparing your work to books outside your genre.

This is the smallest point of the five, but one to take note of. Maybe you read a science fiction epic that spans 125,000 words, and takes great pride in its painstaking world building and description. “This is a great book,” you say, “and I can take lessons from this for my own book.” OK, fair enough (because you can), but keep in mind you’re writing a thriller, which is a genre known for moving very briskly on the page. Thriller readers aren’t usually interested in debut books of 125,000 words, nor are they interested in novels that slow down to give the writer an opportunity to flex their literary muscle in repeatedly describing the scenery and weather.

(Hi, everyone. Chuck here chiming in for a second. I wanted to say I am now taking clients as a freelance editor. So if your query or manuscript needs some love, please check out my editing services. Thanks!)

One Thing You Should Be Doing

I’m taking this point directly from agent Sara Megibow of KT Literary, who said it to writers at a conference in 2014. Megibow was critiquing the unpublished first pages of writers, and urged conference attendees to “read debut novels in their genre published in the last two years.”

It’s a great point, because by following her advice, writers will:

• Read the work of debut authors—which is important because a debut author has no built-in readership and nothing going for them. (They are the opposite of Dan Brown in the point above.) This means a debut writer must hook you immediately on page one and not count on you sticking around even if the story isn’t interesting or well written.
• Read the work of those in your genre—which helps a writer understand what makes their own genre or category tick.
• Read debuts of the past two years—which forces writers to examine works of today—i.e., what’s working now, what’s selling now, what’s effective now.

Don’t get me wrong. You can read bestsellers and foreign novels and the classics, and learn good writing practices and excellent voice from all of them. Go for it. But if you find yourself trying to justify a decision or two or three (odd word count, unlikeable main character, story moving too slow, unorthodox point of view, starting with six prologues back-to-back, etc.) simply because another story did it and succeeded, ask yourself: Should I not be pointing to that story, because the book in question isn’t in the same ballpark as my own?

Do that much, and help your chances of getting published.

Do you have a tip to share about what to do--or what not to do--to get published?

Don't forget the giveaway! In two weeks Chuck will pick a random commenter to win his book, Get a Literary Agent.

About Chuck

Chuck Sambuchino of Writer’s Digest Books edits the GUIDE TO LITERARY AGENTS and the CHILDREN’S WRITER’S & ILLUSTRATOR’S MARKET. His Guide to Literary Agents Blog is one of the largest blogs in publishing.

His 2010 humor book, HOW TO SURVIVE A GARDEN GNOME ATTACK, was optioned by Sony Pictures.  Chuck has also written the writing guides FORMATTING & SUBMITTING YOUR MANUSCRIPT and CREATE YOUR WRITER PLATFORM.

Besides that, he is a freelance book & query editor, husband, sleep-deprived new father, and owner of a flabby-yet-lovable dog named Graham.

Find Chuck on Twitter and on Facebook.

Jamie Raintree

This week in Colorado the temperature is getting into the 70s. We're getting those afternoon thunderstorms that are quintessential of April through August here, and it's the smell of damp grass and the feel of the cool moisture in the air that's putting me in a summer frame of mind. It makes me want to curl up on a blanket under the sun with a Natalie Goldberg book and a notebook.

For me, summer is a time of escaping into the artistry of writing. With my kids home from school and much of our time spent outside, all of us lethargic with Vitamin D, I am in no rush. I live for the moment, for putting this word after that word after that one, listening to the scratch of my pen across the paper. I can't bring myself to worry about what will happen with whichever piece I'm working on, simply reveling in the feeling of writing it. Whoever might read it one day is the the furthest thing from my mind. It's for me. And in summer, I'm sure I could live in this world forever--just writing for the sake of writing. Just eating, sleeping, and breathing it.

But then there's this other time.

THE NEW ITCH

September rolls around and the world gets back into a routine. The kids get back to school. We get back to work, and suddenly the writing takes on a different hue. Suddenly the writing needs to do something, it needs to mean something. As we get reeled back into the net of society, we wonder what our place is inside of it. How do we define ourselves, differentiate ourselves from the crowd? And since we are writers, for many of us, that means getting published.

I have to admit, for a long time I didn't strive to be published. I lived in that eternal summer, thriving on writing scene after scene, book after book that only I would ever read. For a long time, it scratched the only itch I had--to create.

But then, inevitably, a new itch formed. It's only natural after doing something I loved for so long, that I would ask myself what the purpose was. When not every day was a sun-drunk day of writing ease, I wondered why I put myself through it. When I couldn't bring myself to fit seamlessly into the folds of typical society, people asked me why. I asked myself why.

The answer was, because I am writer.

A BUSINESS VENTURE OR A SOUL'S CALLING?

No, being a writer doesn't mean you need to be published. You don't need to be published to be a writer. For years, I was okay with that but eventually, I felt like something was missing. There was an essential step to the writing process that I was missing: being read.

These days, we are so in touch with the publishing industry. We do our due diligence--joining writing groups, learning about how the industry works, searching for agents, collecting marketing tips like seashells on the beach. And sure, making enough money from our art to quit or avoid a day job is a strong allure. We are so aware of the business of this business that getting published becomes more of a status symbol than the answer to the deep, yearning call of our creative process begging to be completed.

But why do we really want to be published? For the same reason we start writing in the first place--to give our lives purpose, to give this moment meaning. We ache for our names and our thoughts to be forever in print so we can say, "I was here. I mattered. My words mattered." We want to feel valued and to know that we are here for a reason.

While the act of creating does that in itself, being published is a way to touch more lives through our work, and extend our reach.

It's society's validation of our hard work, in a culture where being productive and earning money seem to be the only valuable use of time.

It's proof that while we are toiling away in creative silence, we are doing something important too.

WE SEE YOUR TOILING

It's a long, hard haul, getting published. No matter which route you take, there will be more "no"s than "yes"s. There will be more days of slogging than sailing. There will never be enough money or enough time or enough tissues. There will be ample heartbreaks to fuel your creativity.

There will also be ample support. There are incredible communities of writers--like this one--to brush you off and pull you up. If you look, there are reminders every day that it can be done, and is being done. Those rare "yes"s will keep you moving forward. As it should. Because you are a writer.

You are here.

You matter.

Your words matter.

For more posts like this, subscribe to Jamie's newsletter! Also, if you'd like support in taking the next step in your career, be sure to check out Jamie's Write a Successful Query Letter Workshop!

What are your reasons for wanting to be published?

ABOUT JAMIE

Jamie Raintree is a writer, a writing business and productivity instructor, and the creator of the Writing & Revision Tracker. She is represented by Regal Literary and is currently working on her second novel. Subscribe to her newsletter for more blogs, workshops, and book news. To find out more, visit her website below.

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Women’s Fiction & Romance Writer