“Don’t you ever just, like, want it out there already?”
This question was asked of me by my brother-in-law at a recent family gathering. Over the past couple of years, and his series of inquiries into the current state of my writing journey, I’ve endeavored to explain to him that most novel-length stories are rewritten and revised, often over a period of many years, before they are ready for publication. I appreciate his interest, and he’s evidently begun to grasp what it entails, but I suspect he still thinks I’m hedging.
The question speaks to the anxiousness of those around me. Those who care about me wish for my success. It’s difficult for those who’ve never tried to write one to understand how a successful novel can be so difficult or take so long – particularly if they know a complete draft exists. It’s sort of funny, but in some ways staying patient is more difficult for those who care but who aren’t constantly exposed to the vagaries of the publishing industry, and to constant conversation about the need for diligence and perseverance among writers seeking traditional publication.
Destination Denial:
I suppose I’ve developed an odd sort of ambivalence about publication. As much as I want it, and as long as I’ve striven for it, I’ve also grown a layer of psychic armor—an emotional shell for my literary ambition to retreat into. If I get to another New Year without a publishing contract on the horizon, it’s no big deal. I’ve already been through several New Year’s Days with the realization that I thought the prior year would be ‘the one’ on the prior New Year’s Day. Why set myself up? It’s really about having grown as an artist in the prior year, right? No idea which manuscript will be ready or when? Ah well. C’est la vie. Check the armor and continue the climb. It’s like a sort of artistic somnambulism.
As much as I hate to mention the phrase, I may be guilty of too tightly embracing the notion of the artist’s journey. It’s not about the destination, but the journey, right? Embrace the moment, love what you’re doing this very day, this very moment. Be diligent, be grateful, continue to learn, to seek. An artist can only be happy if they accept each artistic effort as a step in a never-ending quest.
Well, I have learned a lot. I am grateful. And don’t get me wrong: I love to write. Once I’m into a story, there’s nothing better. I am often perfectly content in the knowledge that I’ve made progress. But getting myself back into a story I’ve already rewritten several times takes no small amount of effort. And in the process of getting there, Resistance (with a capital R) often rears its ugly head. I admit, for a few weeks this past summer, my diligence slid into a slow idle. I knew I had important work to do, but artistically I was sleepwalking through it. I knew my Resistance was just a part of the journey, but my motivation to continue the climb sort of got lost in the clouds on the horizon of that never-ending quest. The darn summit is obscured by the knowledge that it’s only the first of more heights to conquer beyond it.
If you deny the existence of a destination, it’s sort of tough to convince yourself how wonderful it will feel to vigorously climb on.
A Niche of a Niche:
Those of us still seeking our first publishing deal have all seen the warnings. We know that our lives will not be magically changed by having our books published. We know that new trials await us, that life in the world of publishing isn’t always grand, or even fair. We’ve been warned to keep our post-debut aspirations in check.
And seriously, I’ve never been the type to daydream about best-seller lists or book-signing tours. I may write fantasy, but I’m a realist about it. It’s fantasy. When it comes to books, I’m a geek on the fringe, always have been. I’ve never imagined gaining Oprah’s interest or anything. Beside all of that, over the years I’ve come to recognize that my particular style of fantasy (epic historical, closer to alternate history than fantastical world-building) is really a niche of a niche. Like an odd dangling strand of the fringe.
I’ve been so doggedly keeping my expectations in check that over the years I found myself all but unable, or unwilling, to imagine what success might even look like for me.
The View Beyond the Crest:
I think my somewhat jaded outlook is in part due to my unique position here at WU, as a moderator of the group page, and as the former curator of community articles for Writer Inboxed, the former WU newsletter. It’s a bit of a catbird seat, with a fine view of everyone else’s view. I’ve also been blessed with great friendships with many writers who are further along the road of publishing success. Through them I’ve been afforded a glimpse at the road over the publishing crest ahead. I know that there are bumps and ups and downs in that road beyond the debut, even for the most prolific and successful among us.
I honestly consider myself lucky to have been afforded the unique perspective. But I’ve recently decided it’s sort of like looking at someone else’s vacation pictures. As grand and enlightening as they might be, there are no pictures anyone else can share that will compare to standing atop the summit, and taking in the view for myself.
Drawing Connections:
As the title of this essay might imply, I’ve recently allowed myself to dare to dream again. Something awoke in me, and you’ll probably never guess what prodded the waking. So I’ll tell you. Fan art.
Yep, an artistic rendering of a character, by a fan. I’d recently finished The Mistborn Trilogy, by Brandon Sanderson, and a link to a related article on Tor.com popped up in my Facebook news feed. The link’s thumbnail featured a picture of my favorite character from the series, Vin (by artist Sam Weber). And even though the link didn’t identify her specifically, I immediately knew who it was. The fact that she wears a very distinctive type of tasseled cloak may have tipped me off, but it still seemed really cool to me. There on my screen was Vin, almost exactly as I envisioned her; as another writer described her, and as yet another artist wrought her in two-dimensions; in living color, as they used to say in TV ads back in the day.
I’d seen fan art collections before. They’re fairly common in the fantasy fiction world. Some of it is quite stunning, by brilliant visual artists. But I thought about the picture all that morning. The author of that work inspired that artist’s effort. These talented visual artists have not only read and enjoyed the books, they’ve evidently connected with them. Connected so completely that they are compelled to use their talent as an expression of what they feel, as a manifestation of connection.
The Art of Making It:
I am long out of practice, and have no aptitude left for drawing or painting, but I remember the compulsion. I remember filling notebooks as a tween with pencil drawings of story and comic book characters; warrior-women and Vikings, hobbits and elves. It’s definitely a labor of love. I remember wanting stories to go on, to further explore their worlds; wanting to somehow be a part of them, or to better define and convey how they are a part of me.
When I saw that picture of Vin, so perfectly rendered, I went on to spend over an hour looking at fan art, first from the Mistborn series, then from other favorites. There are vibrant fan art collections and communities for the fictional worlds of Robin Hobb, Jacqueline Carey, Patrick Rothfuss, and George RR Martin, to name a few. And I’m sure such artworks exist in other genres, as well.
As I surfed the fan art links I remembered something I’d forgotten, about myself and why I do this. And through that memory I realized what making it as a writer looked like for me. It looks like someone’s earnest artistic rendering of a beloved character or story element. And it feels like an understanding of the reason for the effort of that rendering—how it’s born of human connection. This is what it’s all about, and what I’d forgotten. I can only imagine how thrilled I’d be to have someone use their talent to produce art inspired by my story world—to use their creativity to express their appreciation for mine. And that day, seeing Vin, I found I am pretty darn excited by imagining it. It rekindled my motivation.
I remembered. I’m awake again as an artist. Creating that kind of connection is worthy of my ongoing effort. It’s worthy of my daring to dream.
How about you? How do you keep your dreams alive? How will you (or do you) define having “made it”? Is Oprah involved? Has your work ever inspired another artist? If so, does it feel as awesome as I imagine? (No wait, don’t tell me. It’s more fun to imagine it.)
About Vaughn Roycroft
Vaughn Roycroft's (he/him) teacher gave him a copy of The Hobbit in the 6th grade, sparking a lifelong passion for reading and history. After college, life intervened, and Vaughn spent twenty years building a successful business. During those years, he and his wife built a getaway cottage near their favorite shoreline, in a fashion that would make the elves of Rivendell proud. After many milestone achievements, and with the mantra ‘life’s too short,’ they left their hectic lives in the business world, moved to their little cottage, and Vaughn finally returned to writing. Now he spends his days polishing his epic fantasy trilogy.
Vaughn, I get similar questions from well-meaning friends and relatives. But after a dozen years, they know better. It helps that I’ve had my articles, stories and poems published in magazines, but as a children’s writer, I am also often asked when I will graduate to the big leagues. I just smile and tell them I’ve yet to master kid-stuff. I know many think I am crazy for moving in the direction I did, from research scientist to motherhood and children’s literature. But they can see I am happy and content, so it attests to the power of craziness, to following the inner moonlight (Ginsberg?).
Like you, I am blessed to have a community of like-minded friends. We encourage one another, share resources, help one another out. Just like I have been inspired by some of my friends’ works, so has mine inspired others. And it feels great, when you’ve made your friend laugh and cry. You know there’s hope for publication, to touch many other hearts.
Vaughn, I am living my dream. Isn’t that what making it is all about?
We’re a lot alike, Vijaya, in that we’ve both moved on from guaranteed success to pursue such a fickle course. But you’re right (or Ginsberg is) about how the results attest to the power of craziness. (Love the thought of inner moonlight!)
I know that sometimes my doubt also clouds the oh-so-real and substantial rewards I’ve already received and enjoyed. One of my proudest moments, among many thus far, was having a friend tell me he felt he better understood the decisions of his estranged mother because of my characters. That feels incredible.
I’m grateful for this slot today on WU. Perfect timing! Among the many rewards this community always so generously provides, your reminder that I’m already living my dream, and how lucky I am, is among the very best of them. Thank you!
That was a “fan”tastic post!!! Sometimes publishing or being published becomes more attached to ego than heart. I love the fan art element bringing in the realization that success is connecting to your reader and the human experience. Beautiful!
Thanks, Lorraine! I know I needed the reminder, so I’m very glad that it supplied it to you, as well!
I keep writing these long comments that nearly tell my life story because your essay so inspired me, Vaughn. But I think for now, I need to play my hand close. I will tell you my writing journey has taken an unexpected turn that yet feels as though it’s where it’s been headed all along. I just had to take the blinders off, and as you said here, rediscover “what making it as a writer looked like to me.”
Part of the process including reading the memoir The Glass Castle. That book changed my heart and my reaction to my own personal history.
It also helped me realize that as a writer, the one thing I wanted years ago as a girl scribbling in notebooks and pounding away at a yard sale typewriter, was to make one person feel a little less lonely. Because that’s what all those hoards of books did for me. I was coming at my novels the wrong way, too tied up in the architecture. I couldn’t see the foundation anymore, couldn’t sense it under my feet, and there was a sense that one strong gust of wind would knock it down.
So, I’m back at the foundation- my foundation being poetry. I’m working on something I’m keeping close, making sure it’s solid and represents my Truth and Voice. I’ve written things that made me feel like Icarus- I would get too close to the sun and fall back, shattering, to earth.
(Sorry for the mixed metaphors. Not enough coffee yet…)
Gone are the dreams of NYT bestseller lists, but what I’m chasing after is more true to who I am as a human.
I remember the heart of my vision as a writer, and that’s pretty amazing. I’m so happy to read you have, too.
You have a great heart and talent, V. We’re all rooting for you.
But I love hearing your life story, Tonia! Even in the comments. :-) I’m glad you found the inner quiet to listen to the rhythm of your creative pulse. And kudos to you for digging back down to the foundation. I have an inkling of what you’re up to, and I’m positive that it will not only be brave, but bold and brilliant, as well.
“Gone are the dreams of NYT bestseller lists, but what I’m chasing after is more true to who I am as a human.” Amen, Sister!
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: You’re my hero. Thanks for being alongside on the climb, my friend. And for the inspiration and the well-wishes!
One little kid. If I can inspire one little kid, if I can make one little kid not feel alone in this world, that’s it, I made it.
What a great answer! That’s the perfect definition. I wholeheartedly concur, Celeste. Thank you!
Thanks for sharing your beautiful and inspiring words.
Since I have yet to publish my first novel, I’m right there with you. I’m watching everyone else’s vacation pictures, learning not to travel in a war zone.
I don’t know when I’ll feel I’ve made it. When I get that first check? When I see a stranger reading my book? (Hi. You know, I wrote that. 😊) When someone I don’t know recognizes my name? I don’t know. All I know is I’m ready to get it out there. I have so many stories waiting for a life.
My new motto for myself, not just in writing, is “Just Do It!” No, I didn’t make that up. It seems I’ve heard that somewhere before. 😉
So get that story as good as you can get it, then shove it out the nest so it can fly. Be brave. It’ll be good.
Great ways to define having made it, Val! I love the thought of you coming upon someone reading your book. I wish I could be there when it happens! You’d better tell me all about it.
I know what you mean about having so many stories waiting. I suppose they’ll still be there, but I also think it’s good that those stories keep nudging us to urgency.
Thanks for the shove – I knew I could count on you for that. ;-) Can’t wait to read it (hurry up, would ya?)!
You have wisdom beyond publishing “milestones”, which you will no doubt achieve, and which will be all the sweeter since you possess such perspective. Wonderful essay!
One of the reasons I have this unique perspective is that I made friends with such talented people here on WU. Thanks for so generously sharing your view from the lofty crests you’ve climbed, Erika!
Hello Vaughn.
It would be impossible for me to not appreciate your heartfelt meditation on the writer’s journey, confrontations with doubt, and coming to terms with what success means to the writer.
Most issues related to defining myself as a writer have been solved by what I’ll euphemistically call the aging process. Commercially published long ago, but subsequently rejected for decades, I still think of myself first and foremost as a writer. Over the course of many years, and a great deal of reading and writing, I’ve come to know with real confidence what good writing is, and what it isn’t.
This knowledge has helped me maintain my sense of equilibrium. It has also helped me to grasp and accept certain facts of commercial publishing life. I’m old, and agents–understandably–are interested in finding and working with younger writers. I write stories that blend genres, and often ignore conventional wisdom, stories that agents/publishers see as a “hard sell.”
This means the way is clear, if by no means easy: I will hire good editors, formatters and cover designers to help me self-publish novels that I know are solid and worthy of me as a writer, and worthy of readers–and hope for the best. I will remain open to learning as all writers must, but not allow myself to be distracted by hucksters, self-proclaimed “experts,” or today’s new new thing.
Thanks again for your post. It summarizes in a thoughtful way many of the questions most writers must face.
Hi Barry, I’m always grateful for your perspective, and this comment is full of your usual wisdom. While perhaps not as direct a corollary as your past publishing experience, I think coming to this gig later in life, having found some success elsewhere, has been invaluable. Thank you for reminding me of another unique aspect of my own perspective.
And although I’m not always as confident about recognizing good writing, I know that I am working on the types of stories I believe in and feel with my whole heart, market be damned. So I also want to thank you for reminding me that this is the core of our identity as writers, and that all of the rest can be wrested into place if we maintain our true north.
A couple of years ago, I found a small publisher and had my first book published, and it was exciting and scary and weird. Recently, my publisher had to close, and so I’m trying again to find an agent or a publisher. It’s all too tedious to go into, but I’ve had book published (mostly ignored of course) and now it’s gone. And people ask…or they don’t ask…and bills are due and it is hard to stay the course even though I don’t know any other way.
Keep writing!
Aw Marta, darn it. Sorry, I hadn’t heard about your publisher. (Glad I got a copy while the gettin’ was good!) And I know that the experience will now become a part of the whole of your being as a writer. Yes, onward! I’m confident you will ascend to conquer ever greater heights. Thank you!
The timing for this post couldn’t be better, Vaughn, since I am now staring down the barrel of another revision. I thought about it a lot over the summer, when I couldn’t work, and now that the kids are back in school I have hit Resistance. I hope it is just because my schedule hasn’t actually slowed yet, not that I will actually be stuck.
This was one of the most difficult rewrites to regain immersion in for me, Kim. And I can see why it would be so for you, too (let alone the kids being home, etc.). Yours is SO close. It must feel like, damn, it’s almost there! Why can’t it just *be there* already?! That’s sort of been part of my Resistance this summer, and yours is closer than mine.
Keep climbing, my friend! And thanks for being alongside me as I climb, too!
I’m glad you believe mine’s almost there, Vaughn. I’m feeling overwhelm over it all today.
Rest assured. I’m quite certain about it. Now get back to work! ;-)
You raise some interesting questions, Vaughan, ones that are as relevant to published writers as to as-yet-unpublished writers. I love your accidental inspiration–fan art! Wow. And I’ve felt privileged to follow your journey via this blog.
My response? I don’t think about “making it” in the abstract. Yes, I was happy when my books came out, but in truth I’m satisfied and inspired whenever a reader says that my work has touched him or her. It might be a comment on an online interview with me or an email from someone I’ve never met. It might be the stillness that falls over a reading when I can feel the audience responding.
Luckily I got some of that feedback even before my books were published. Early on in writing my memoir of being on welfare, I workshopped the chapter where my son was born. One person remarked that she’d always thought welfare mothers just had babies to get a bigger check, but she could tell that I really loved my son, so maybe others did too.
Another time I was reading poetry at an open mic and this friend of mine, a big tough guy, came up afterwards to tell me that one of the poems I’d read made him cry.
Little things, perhaps, but they keep me going. That and my critique group who pester me when I go too long without submitting anything to them.
Wow – the woman at the workshop must have taken you aback! But it must be so rewarding to know you’ve changed her perspective in such an important way. And I love the big guy admitting his tears. Great examples, thanks for sharing them. And thanks for sharing your perspective from the higher vistas of your publishing journey, Barbara! It’s good to remember that it’s the accumulated little things that fuel the climb.
Vaughn, thanks so much for sharing your story. I’m coming off of a summer break that I desperately needed after my third novel didn’t sell nearly what I had hoped despite all of the PR I could muster. I felt depleted and wasn’t sure what to do after that. Every time I’m on the verge of quitting, the universe sends me a little gift like the one you received to keep me going. I’m starting to get little flashes of stories, a line of dialog here, a description there. Time to get back to work!
Hi Karen, I’m glad you took the summer to recharge your batteries. It’s a testament to your perseverance that you pay attention to those nudges the universe gives. It behooves us to pay attention. I’m with you: I often pull a whole chapter or solve a major issue with just a line of dialog or a flash of prose. I think it means we’re both writers. Yes, onward! Here’s to gratefully accepting the fuel that is sent our way. Best to you on the next one!
I’ve always loved your stories, because you are a wonderful yarnspinner. The core has always been there, thumping the lifeblood through your characters, but the latest drafts are so sophisticated in the canal building that brings their essence to me, the reader. Your never-ending journey has not been a wasted one thus far, V. And publishing is but a step on that journey, the horizon is much farther beyond publishing…. but you know that, you couldn’t write the kind of stories you do, if you didn’t know that already. It’s the gut-reason for the existence of art and the proof of eternity.
Hey B! You are such a blessing. Your support has shown me, time and again, that my characters and my story world are worthy of my striving. And I do know. You’re right – it’s the gut-reason for enduring whatever it takes, and it’s the proof of eternity (very Blake-esque of you to say – speaking of taking in the perspective of great writers who climbed before us). I can’t thank you enough, but I’ll continue to try. Thank you, for everything, my friend.
Epic historical/alternate history is a genre I really enjoy (such as the work of Guy Gavriel Kay). And I too write in “an odd dangling strand of the fringe”: historical mystery. Thanks for this inspiring post. Very helpful today!
Hey SK, You clearly know exactly what I’m talking about. I consider GGK to be right on the same dangling strand of the fringe of my genre. Thanks for reminding me of him – his success is heartening. I’m glad this post resonated for you! Best to you as you continue to climb!
As an artist and writer, your words hit home with me and showed me a new path. I knew it was there, but you just talking about it made it so much more accessible – it was magical. Thank you.
Ah, such a reward! To have illuminated a new path for a fellow artist. I am blessed, indeed. Thanks for your kind words, and for letting me know, Julia!
How do I define “made it”? It keeps changing. I’m working on the fifth novel in a mystery series, and it’s not getting any easier to stay motivated. My “made it” has changed from getting my first two books out to readers, to getting my first good reviews, to finishing my third and fourth novels, to having fans contact me to tell me how much they love my series. Me! A fan excited to meet ME! And now for the first time one of my novels is ready for release in a German edition thanks to a freelance translator who believes in my series. Stuff I dreamed about but somehow never really believed would happen.
(Maybe my accomplishments as an independent genre writer are insignificant compared to those of commercially successful and critically acclaimed authors, but like Barry, “I’m old” and given my age, my goals are modest.)
Those were all wonderful moments and the thought of them still makes me proud and happy, and yet I still have the self-doubt and insecurity that makes me wonder if I’ll ever complete the fifth novel or if it will meet the expectations of readers when I do. Will I ever lose that fear of failure, a fear that sometimes makes me feel the mountain is too high to attempt the climb? I know I’m not alone in this and maybe it’s inherent in the creative process.
Thanks for posting, Vaughan. Knowing that others feel the same way is motivating in itself.
Good Lord, RE, those accomplishments are the absolute opposite of insignificant! It’s got to feel great, and I certainly admire you. But you make a good point about the vistas beyond. It seems the doubt never goes away, which sucks, but I’m thinking that’s an inherent piece of the process – one that keeps us hungry and growing.
Thanks for sharing your successes. You’re an inspiration. I’m thinking a trip to Germany is in order for you! After all, meeting such a cool goal deserves a reward. Best wishes on #5! You’ve got this!
Reading the kinds of novels I long to write is a great motivator for me. So is a great TV show, including Arrow, The Flash, and Star Trek, even though I write romance. Go figure. Also, way down there somewhere, probably not that far down, is a bit of “I’ll show them.” Who ‘them’ is, I’m not quite sure, but on days when I’m feeling particularly miserable and unwriterly, that thought motivates me.
I also never imagined being on Oprah, or on the NYT list. My big dream, was having a reader, read one of my lines and crying, or highlighting the text, or calling a friend and telling her about it, because my character resonated with her so much. That’s my dream. Oh, and being able to pay a few bills.
Hi Grace! I’m not surprised at all by your TV list. I hadn’t realized it when I started, but I now see how much the books with strong romance elements that my mom lent me have influenced my work. I’m still a huge Outlander fan.
Oh boy, do I know about “I’ll show them.” My initial admissions of my aspirations incited many an eye-roll, let me tell you. I think that at this point, I’ve totally burnt up that particular blend of fuel, but I encourage you to use it up. Whatever drives us on those unwriterly days, I’m all for it!
And I love your definition of making it. It’s an achievable dream, and it’s so human. When it happens, it’s sure to provide sustenance to your ongoing climb. (And don’t I hear you on the help with the bills.) Thank you for a great contribution to the conversation!
Great post. Due to lack of confidence I gave up my writing dreams long ago, and six months ago I literally couldn’t sleep because a story had started to form. I don’t let myself think too far ahead as to what will happen, but I know the odds are very long for publishing success. Not to mention, a long time in the works. I also fight against autoimmune pain and fatigue, and this can make productive writing a real challenge. I guess when I have this piece finished, even if it takes multiple revision, that will mean success to me. To see it in print would be the icing on the cake. I shudder to think of all the money in editors and self publishing costs I will have to put out…but I feel this has to come to fruition somehow. I guess I think of my words as my legacy; long after I’m gone they’ll be there. And I think that’s pretty valuable.
Hi Ellen, Do you know the movie The Family Stone? It’s a Christmas movie, but you made me think of it. The eldest son (Dermot Mulroney) longs to go and see a totem pole that an artist carved because he couldn’t sleep until he did it. When the artist finished, the whole town celebrated his achievement. Maybe we (the town of Sawyer) can do this at Greenbush when you succeed (I say *when* you succeed, ’cause you will)? Up to you, but I’m in. :-)
I agree, it’s heartening to think of the legacy of our undertaking. There’s absolutely value there. Wishing you less pain and fatigue and much progress this fall!
Heh. In my world, the questioning goes through three distinct stages.
1. We both have a sense of breathless excitement. This manuscript/month/year could be it! So updates are sought and I give them eagerly.
2. The questions still come but are tinged with skepticism and doubt about positive answers. I experience embarrassment and frustration when my explanations about the industry and slow progress don’t make sense to my audience. (Or me.)
3. They stop asking for the most part and my wrestling–with the words, with myself–can be done in private.
I’m in stage 3 right now and it’s by far my favorite. I prefer private struggle to public and paradoxically experience fewer bouts of demotivation when the pressure is off.
Anyway, V, keep the faith. I haven’t allowed myself to dream of fan art but maybe I’ll have to indulge. I’m grateful it’s given you fresh wind.
Ha! Love those stages, Boss – spot on! I’m pretty much there with you in stage 3, particularly in my community (neighbors and social acquaintances). In fact, at local gatherings where I’m given a name tag (chamber, land conservancy meetings, fund raisers) I always write, “Maureen’s husband.” I’m thoroughly satisfied being known as Mr. Mo, believe me! Maybe it was my own squirming in the light of their scrutiny that led to their dropping it. Whatever works, right?
Thanks for the steady breeze of your ongoing support, Jan! Wishing you fresh and sustaining winds this autumn!
What a nice piece on motivation and the unusual places one might find it. I’m really stuck right now in my current WIP, and it was treasuring to see that I am not the only one who takes more than a year to churn out a book.
As for artists’ images of my characters, my one claim to fame in that regard is a nice rendition of a character in a short story by at Story Shack. The artist is Monique Lafitte and I really liked the way she portrayed Gloria. http://thestoryshack.com/romance-stories/maryann-miller-to-love-again/
Oh, you most certainly are not alone, Maryann! Very cool image, congrats! I was hoping someone would share one. :-) Thank you! Best of luck getting unstuck!
Vaughn, I’ve been the unmoving hand on an unplugged clock with my writing lately, because, post writing workshop ministrations, I have to do some substantive revisions to a languishing old novel and resourceful guy that I am, used that mental burden to not do any writing at all on my new novel. So, nothing.
Watch the calendar pages flip for a month or so.
Then, behold, Vaughn’s screed on motivation appears, to shame me. This morning after reading I made happy typing face on the new novel, and as soon as I finish this note to you, the old will be scooped up, as it lies printed out now, at arm’s length, a slasher’s red pen lying on its bulk.
So, Vaughn, today my inspiration comes from thou.
I drew a fan art picture of you: it looks like a stick man, but with no uncertain air of goodwill and integrity. And stickness.
God, no one gets me, makes me laugh, and makes stick-figure-ish mockery of me all at once like Tom Bentley! It does my heart a lot of good, having shamed, I mean *inspired* you into working your ass off today. At least one of us was productive. Well, in that way, anyway. Actually, I thought of a snippet of prose that’s had me humming all day. I know it’s one of those key pieces in the gumball machine, that – once employed – will allow all of the coolest little trinkets to tumble into play. Don’t ya love when you know that’s gonna happen?
My drawing of you would be funny, but not in the cool way that you’re actually funny (as in able to fill others with mirth and warmth). Thanks for saving me from having to draw you with this funny and warm comment! Best to you on both projects!
Vaughn, the first half of this piece could have come straight from my brain. Thank you for speaking so honestly about what this place/perspective is like. <3
Thanks, Kristan! It’s great knowing I’m not alone. Great to see you! All the best to you!
Vaughn, thanks for sharing your frustration and dreams about this journey of writing. Destination Denial is also kicking and screaming in my closet.
I don’t believe in end gaining. I gave that up one career ago and my commitment to it was underscored when I heard Donald Maass’s keynote on “Storyteller vs. Attention Seeker.” Still, every year on my birthday I visualize what I wish to happen during the upcoming year regarding my manuscript. I visualize, then tuck it away in a little heart-shaped box. Done.
I think it’s important for everyone, not just writers, to acknowledge what they want to achieve with as much clarity as possible. Like a thru-line for a story, if we can’t clearly articulate what it is we want to accomplish, how the heck are we going to figure out how to make it happen. And how the heck is the Universe going to figure out how to help us.
The day before my birthday each year I read through the list of things I visualized about the previous year. For the past ten years I’ve been wishing for publication and and agent and I’m still unpublished and without an agent. But I have noticed that the other things I have wished for over the years have become more specific. And the growth in the area of craft has been amazing.
Patience and persistence is the key. One day the destination will arrive and oh, how amazing it will be.
Three cheers for your patience and persistence!!! Keep the fires of imagination going!
Josoca – I like the heart-shaped box idea, but I love what you’re saying about visualizing with clarity. I’ve always liked the Seneca quote: “If one does not know which port they seek, there is no wind that can take them there.” It’s beautiful because it works both for our stories and for our writing journeys.
Nice to know you’re a fellow member of the 10 Years Striving Club. Should we have a secret handshake, or with the look of weary resolve identify us to one another? Thanks so much for this awesome contribution to the conversation. Here’s to keeping those fires burning brightly!
Hmm, Vaughn, thoughtful post.
How to keep dreams alive? It seems a lot of comments here shy away from dreaming big–for lack of a better symbol, the NYT list. To play devil’s advocate, dreams are thinner than air, so as long as that is understood, I say dream away. I don’t hold being on the NYT bestseller as a goal, but I consider it as some measure in the outer world, wonder what it’s like. It hangs out there as a grail. . . just not a holy one. As long as I don’t catch myself getting paralyzed by doing so, considering it gives me juice.
We writers are not in competition with each other, because we each have our own stories and voices. And yet the bar for publication is out there and we compete with it, no? If we don’t meet some level of craft and voice etc., we will get the form letter reply to our queries. So I consider what that list is and how I can and can’t meet it and I work with and against it as the mood pulls me.
If early beta reads show my story is thin, then I consider what else, what if. And pushing though that initial revision is hard–because it was perfect before wasn’t it?–as we all know, when we break through our past ‘set-in-stone words,’ that is as good as any part of the creative process.
With the decades, I’ve learned to plug away, to take whatever time and risk is involved to create the very best statement of the story. Because what else are we here for if not to follow our passions? If I don’t try, true enough, I can’t fail, and I certainly can’t succeed. So plugging on is all I can do. I can’t have anyone else’s genius. (Lord knows I’ve tried. I find you all reluctant to sell yours to me.)
In the big picture, we don’t know what our life will bring. We never do. When teenagers we don’t know if relationship will find us, or how good it will be. Maybe so, maybe not. And it’s like that all the way through.
The other truth is we can die before we ever hear back. I use Vincent Van Gogh as a cellmate and guide. That wonderful creative spirit (yes, finally mad with passion) never sold one painting, well, one, to his brother and sole benefactor, Theo, who bought it out of compassion. But, my! When you stand beside the actual canvases, he was on fire. Never knowing where he stood, he did the best he could do. He did it all with no confirmation of what we know now.
Here’s a toast to all of us who follow the passion. . . . to communicate, to teach, to learn, to publish. . . . to be our best selves with pen in hand and stories ringing in our heads. Let’s see our doubts as little more than the thousand other thoughts we reject as not being appropriate for our day’s writing.
I look forward to holding your trilogy in my hand, sir.
Tom – Of all of the pre-published works I’ve read, yours is the one I can best visualize as a bestseller, a hardcover in the racks of the airport bookstore. And I’ll be buying!
You know, it’s funny, and I didn’t get into it here, but I secretly admire and aspire to the careers of a few of my heroes in the fantasy genre: Jacqueline Carey and Robin Hobb. I’ve been involved in their fan communities, and I see how passionate folks are about their books. They inspire loyalty, if not (normally) bestselling numbers. Hundreds of Carey fans even tattoo their skin with ink inspired by her books, for crying out loud. That’s devotion! But here’s the funny part: I always held them up as examples of success without NYT bestselling numbers, and then last year Hobb hit the NYT list. As well as the bestseller lists in the UK and several other European markets. With a book about two characters she invented in the mid-90s – and whom she hasn’t written about in almost a decade! I admit, that prickled the hair on the back of my neck.
Love the Van Gogh example, Tom. And thanks for this: “Let’s see our doubts as little more than the thousand other thoughts we reject as not being appropriate for our day’s writing.” Amen.
Thanks or this exceptional enhancement of the conversation, my friend!
What a lovely, heartfelt post, Vaughn, and what inspiring sentiments from everyone in the comments that followed.
For as long as I can remember, August has been my low ebb of the year. By the end of summer, I’ve grown weary … lethargic in energy, low in spirit, lacking in inspiration. I reach some kind of stasis, or rather sink into stagnation, becoming stuck until the first brisk winds of autumn arrive, sweeping away the malaise and reawakening my imagination.
Your words today, arriving fittingly at the start of September, on the cusp of the change of seasons, were sorely needed. Thanks to you all for a gentle reminder that the path isn’t as lonely as it sometimes feels. Be well, and happy writing.
I’m glad I”m not alone in the August stagnation, John. There’s something about it, isn’t there? I’m not big on the heat, and I love the autumn. And by August most of the cool flowers have withered. The beaches are emptying out, but they’re left sort of rumpled and littered with trash and butts, yet to be washed clean by the autumn storms. Here’s to September bringing us both a refreshing creative breeze, helping us to settle into a happy off-season of writing bliss!
Vaughn,
I read this yesterday while I was out and about but didn’t want to deal with my tiny phone keyboard and fat thumbs. By the time I returned home, I had much to do and never made it by until this morning. What a great article! And I am so there — in that same headspace — more often than not. When will I ever finish this freaking manuscript? Heck, at least you have completed drafts!
After our NY trip, I came home sick as a dog. Long story that involves a funky street-vended gyro sandwich, food poisoning, three nights of no sleep and a freezing airport that I was stuck in overnight — in shorts, t-shirt, and sandals, no less. I caught a horrific cold, lost my voice, was tired and weak for a week, and depressed as hell.
Although there was much to be done, I didn’t have the energy (or computer — it broke on the trip, as well) to do it.
So I fantasized. BIG TIME. All I could do was lie in bed, daydreaming. And yes, it did involve Oprah at one point. And the Pulitzer prize. Hey, I dangle a big carrot. Then I saw the release of a book by a high school friend’s husband. She contacted me a little less than a year ago asking questions about writing a book and publishing. I directed her to some resources. And there it was — done, printed, and self-published for consumption.
My immediate response was “F**k!” And then I realized my journey is different. My journey is the tortoise’s journey — slow and steady wins the race. Although I’m anxious, I’m also patient. I’ll publish no book until it’s time…or until its time, depending on how you look at it.
I understand that during the course of my journey, I’ve encountered a great many pitfalls…pitfalls that would bury lesser men. And I’ve pulled myself out of them and kept trudging. That has to account for something, right?
I see you trudging alongside me. The road to publication is a rocky one for those who demand excellence from themselves and won’t settle for less. I have to believe that at some point, I’ll reach the finish line. Just keep swimming.
Thanks for the article, and for letting me know I’m not alone in this journey.
Oh man, I’m so sorry about the aftermath of NYC! Hope you’re on the mend. (But it was so worth it, wasn’t it?)
It’s great that you utilized that time in your sickbed so well. Yep – I consider it a well-spent endeavor (even with the Oprah involvement – I’d love to see that episode, btw. You’d charm the living daylights out of her!).
I have some idea of the many obstacles you’ve overcome to get this far, and I so admire you for your perseverance! Yes, here’s to demanding, and striving for, excellence! Onward – together!
Worth it? I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat…except I’d stay away from the food trucks.
Vaughn, I kept nodding my head in recognition throughout your essay. I am, like Mike Swift, a daydreamer about my future success, although my dreams are of being interviewed by Terry Gross (I’m such an NPR junkie). I periodically drive around, practicing interviews. Although I try not to do that, it does give me a little added confidence in answering when people ask me about the book.
Two things have helped me tremendously in my publishing journey, and yes, journey, long long long journey. One was John Vorhaus talking about defining success for yourself, so any other success is lovely, but lack of success (as defined by others) doesn’t have to destroy your sense of self. And the other was a children’s sermon given by a friend who talked about raccoons, and how they’d see something shiny in the bottom of a jar, go in the grab it, and with their fist/paw closed around the object, they couldn’t get their hand out of the jar — if they don’t let go of the object they want so badly, they’d have to lug around this jar, and possibly even starve because they couldn’t feed themselves or move around properly. The shiny object was my desire for traditional publication, aka someone to tell me that I’m worthy, and I let it go that day. It does mean that I’m indie publishing, which will bring its own difficulties that I’ll have to weather. But I can do it. And I can define what success will mean for me at various stages, and be patient (my publishing journey so far has certainly taught me that things don’t come quickly for me), and that will work most of the time. I’ll probably still daydream of bigger success, but even if it doesn’t come, it won’t put my whole being and worth as a person into question. I’ve done too much work fighting that to fall into it again.
And since I write for children and young people, I totally daydream about fan art, from little kid scribbles to teenage accomplished artists. And I plan to put a call out for fan art on the web pages for all the books :-)
Hey Natalie, I’m so happy for you! I know how long and hard you’ve worked, and I’m glad to see that you’ve let go of the external validation thing. And I know that your hard work and determination will deliver an exceptional product to the marketplace, and I’ll be first in line for it because of that. And I *know* there will be fan art – it’s perfect for that!
I hope I recognize the day my pursuit of shiny turns into a raccoon jar. It still doesn’t quite feel like it. I can still see a destination – or at least a process that continues to feel unfinished. Thanks for sharing a bit of your journey! Wishing you the best with the release, and glad to know you’re climbing ahead. Thanks for shining a bit of light for those of us following behind!
Don’t worry, I’m not one of those virulent self-publishers — I love that you are pushing towards the destination of trad publishing, and I will be so thrilled when you get there :-) Heck, I might product Skolani art, so long as you don’t mind that everyone is a circle on top of a triangle…
Hey, Vaughn!
So, I read your post yesterday, first thing, and meant to comment but got sidetracked with a tight deadline. So sorry!
I loved this post. Why? Because you always make me feel like I’ve pulled up a chair at your kitchen table and we’re sipping hot tea and chatting. Thank you for sharing your personal endeavors with me.
Thank you thank you thank you.
Big hugs
Dee
Hi Dee! Always a pleasure hearing from you, no matter the day or time. And I’d love to have you sit at the kitchen table for tea and a chat!
Thanks so much for taking the precious time under deadline to let me know. Best of luck with the work! Looking forward to your release day! Hugs!
Thank you so much for this post and I am thankful that my online writer friend, Mike Swift shared it for us! I have been working on a nonfiction book for 3 years and it is still unpublished. BUT, it is a completely different angle and approach than when I first had the inspiration. So I try to remind myself that it is a process and still forward motion even though it is a very slow AND HARD process.
Thanks for these encouraging words today!
Hi Susie, Any friend of Mike’s is a friend of mine. You’re wise to see it as a process, and also to be aware that momentum is everything. Hang in there! Glad you found the post inspirational. Thanks for stopping by, and come again! WU is a great place to seek ongoing inspiration. :-)
Great Post Vaughn. Enjoyed it and related to it. Thanks.