At the time of writing this essay, I’m less than a week from having attended the third WU UnConference in Salem, MA. If you click on the UnConference button in the header above, you’ll find an apt description of what it’s all about, ending with this:
“In other words, we’re going to lean on our strengths, the qualities that have made Writer Unboxed a strong site and community. We’re going to empower you, but this time we’re going to empower you in person.”
UnCon has always marked pivot points for me. It signifies the end of another writing year, but it’s bigger than that. UnCon sessions and the communion with tribe always prompt me to take stock. In the aftermath of this one—in assessing the current status of my work and myself as a writer—I found my own way to the word Therese leans on in the blurb above: empower.
Allow me to try to lead you to it, as well.
Describing the Indescribable
UnCon is difficult to describe to those who haven’t experienced it. It’s different for everyone, of course. First-timer Carol Newman Cronin makes a nice attempt in her wrap-up post—particularly when she says: “[The UnCon’s] craft-only approach—and the homey comfort of the Hawthorne Hotel—eliminated much of the frenzy I’ve seen at other conferences. Our common goal was to write a better story, because that’s the only thing we really have within our control.”
Although Carol’s post reminded me how UnCon continues to evolve for me, some aspects remain the same. Focusing on story with such singularity always produces a sensation not unlike an extended waking dream. And yet, the rapport and good cheer found in the lobby can feel as familiar and real as a visit to your hometown. UnCon seems both fleeting and enduring at once. By the end I’m always stunned that it’s over, and yet sessions and conversations from the early going seem like they occurred eons ago.
It was amid this somewhat ineffable atmosphere that I discovered I’d brought along a stowaway.
My Stowaway
Those of you who’ve been following my posts here might recall that I’ve been working on an epic fantasy trilogy for some time. Indeed, the project has been my WIP through all three UnCons. As a result of the first UnCon (in 2014), the story that became The Sundered Nation Trilogy went from a side-project to a new take on the first third of it. For the second (in 2016), I brought a finished and fairly well-vetted book one manuscript as well as my developing notes on book two. Book one, The Severing Son, went out on submission to editors shortly after that second UnCon.
To the third UnCon ( earlier this month) I brought an unsold book one, a finished book two that had been out to readers and revised once, and a newly-finished draft of book three. In other words, I had a huge but somewhat intact story, offering abundant fodder for in-session pondering.
But alas, I also brought this stowaway I mentioned. Yep, to the reportedly haunted Hawthorne Hotel, I came with my own phantom in tow. I brought along the specter of being not quite good enough.
Did you just roll your eyes? Okay, I know now, and knew then, that this is a simplistic and unfair reduction. I’m aware that many people have embraced my story and are fond of its characters. But somehow, after two years of: “Not right for us”; “Not a good fit”; “Not quite connecting with both protagonists,” and so on, I had internalized the result of being on the market as, “Sorry, it’s not quite good enough.”
And at times, for me, it’s a short leap from, “The story’s not quite good enough,” to “You’re not quite good enough.”
Recognition
I wasn’t really aware of my phantom stowaway until I’d had the chance to catch up with dozens of writer friends—many who have known me throughout the years I’ve devoted to this project. Beyond their genuine interest, their consolation for my setbacks, and their heartfelt encouragement, I imagined (yes, it’s on me) what my friends must also have been taking away from my updates. “Oh, got it. It’s not quite good enough. You’re not quite there yet.”
Look, I realize that this isn’t rational. But to me, in the moment, my phantom stowaway felt undeniably real. And revealed!
Fortunately, as we cruised into midweek, my stowaway phantom became a faded, secondary concern, swept aside by this sheer collective of creativity, talent, and passion for language and story. UnCon’s magic made it all but impossible for self-consciousness and doubt to hold sway.
It was around this time that I had a deeper conversation about my work with a dear friend. My friend asked me why I hadn’t simply set my trilogy aside to focus on a new project—one that might boost me over the publishing hurdle. I could always go back to it, my friend assured me.
“Because I’ve got to see it through,” I blurted. My vehemence surprised me. But my friend smiled. “Good,” she said. “Then you know what you have to do.”
I instantly realized that I did know. I recognized that I’d merely been distracted by a phantom I’d allowed to sneak into my cranium.
Acknowledgement
Truth is, I not only knew what I had to do regarding seeing my project through. I’d already begun taking the steps to do it. As it became clear that my manuscript wasn’t selling, the first thing I’d done was an important one: I kept writing.
I started work on book two immediately after book one went out. But by the time I began on book three, I’d gained a strong suspicion that things weren’t going well. I’ll admit that my dedication to forging ahead was a bit like whistling past the graveyard. Or maybe more like plugging my ears and singing to myself. But continuing to write can never be a bad thing, no matter the motivation.
Upon finishing a draft of book three this past July, I was forced to a reckoning of sorts. I knew I needed some time away from it. I also had a long list of household chores I’d been putting off. But it was at this point that I instinctively took another step. I sought out and hired an editor for the first two books. This turned out to be an extremely fortuitous and beneficial move. My new editor has an amazing grasp for my story and characters, and has not only provided an astonishing new perspective, but has challenged me to go deep—deeper than I’ve ever gone as a writer.
In August I began a rewrite of book one, with hardly a thought about the marketplace. I was focused on depth, on treading where I’d thus far feared to go. I was well into this work when I arrived at UnCon, but looking back on the first few days, I avoided talking about it. Silly as it now seems, and as fresh as the work felt, I was embarrassed to still be working on the same ole’ book. This is even sillier considering I would feel no such judgement about a colleague in the same circumstance.
It wasn’t until we were over UnCon’s midpoint that I acknowledged, to myself and others, that not only was I committed to going deeper—to making this entire story the best it can be, publishing prospects aside—but that I’d already begun to dig.
A WUnderful Outlook
I’ve mentioned the magic of UnCon, and its effect can’t be overstated. Its spell is cast in the sessions and affects the vibrant discussions outside them. You feel it in the workshops—coming through your pen as the prompted words flow onto the page with ease. You’re utterly alone with your story, and yet you’re surrounded and buoyed by a hundred-plus kindred souls.
Therese’s chosen theme of wonder (WUnder) for UnCon 3 was so fitting. As Don Maass observed in opening the final session, we writers can get so focused on conflict and insurmountable challenge that it’s easy to overlook the wonder of immersion in story. I realize now that this is true not only on the page, but in our lives.
UnCon made me see that my phantom felt real for a reason. My gut knew that I hadn’t gone as deep as I could. Indeed, it was telling me that I’d avoided going there. UnCon reminded me not only that I could, but that I must—that I’ll never be truly satisfied until I do.
UnCon reminded me that the tools are already there for me to use. That, due to my diligence, I continue to gain the aptitude to wield them. Over the years since UnCon 1, I’ve gained a grasp and intention for my work that provides me with the growing mastery to deliver my story in its best possible form.
UnCon reminded me that I’m not at the whim of anyone, in the publishing world or elsewhere. I get to decide: the shape and form of my story, when it’s really ready, and when it goes back to the market.
UnCon also reminded me that I’m not alone. That even when the days stack up, and nothing seems to change, including the overwhelming odds against me, my friends and mentors are always with me, lifting me up, battling beside me and often for me.
More than anything, UnCon has revealed what I often refuse to see: That I’ve got this. As my protagonist’s dueling mentor calls to him before his first trial: “Your victory is already there. It’s yours to take.”
And that, my fellow writers, is how I came around to the word empower. Not every writer has the good fortune to attend an UnCon. But we all reach writerly pivot points. We can all stretch and put ourselves out there. We can all recognize our phantoms, and listen to what they’re really trying to tell us. We can all acknowledge the steps we have already taken, and see how far we’ve come. We can all recognize our allies, and see the benefit and appreciate the support they continue to provide.
We are all able to open our hearts and minds to empowerment. It’s already there. It’s yours to take.
As for this lucky writer, I can’t think of a more fitting description of the WU UnConference than empowering. Or a better gift.
How about you? Ever had a stowaway phantom? Where do you go to seek the magic? Are you feeling empowered?
About Vaughn Roycroft
In the sixth grade, Vaughn’s teacher gave him a copy of The Hobbit, 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.
It was such a joy to talk with you at UnCon this year. I recognize that stowaway. Though mine may come in a different flavor, it is just as unwelcome and destructive.
I’m grateful for WU, for Therese, for my fellow travelers. So very grateful not to be alone on this journey.
From one writer in her happy place to another: write on.
Hey Lisa – It really was a delight having some time to really talk at this UnCon. We’ve known each other for years, but it’s interesting to find how many parallels our journeys share, isn’t it? I’m sure it’s true more often than we realize. Sometimes I feel like UnCon needs to be two weeks rather than one.
You’re such a role model when it comes to empowerment. You’ve long taken the bull by the horns, and the writing gods know you’ve long had the best of him. And I sense that more good things will come of your positive attitude and increasing aptitude.
Here’s to gratitude and writerly comrades! Write on, indeed, my friend.
Vaughn, I can’t begin to express how much I loved your post. Our phantoms will always accompany us on our journey, so we have to make friends with them instead of fearing them. Sometimes they actually show us the way to the true courage, risk, discovery, and joy that you write about so eloquently … I went through a process much like yours, and it has given me so much hope—a strange new feeling that lies somewhere between self-doubt and self-confidence. I am committed to this. I want to do the best I can. And that means I can’t isolate myself, either from my own phantoms or from my community. Thank you, thank you!!
I’m so glad my experience resonates with you, Barbara. Yes, for this gig we’ve got to get used to living with uncertainty. I love “a strange feeling somewhere between self-doubt and self-confidence. We do need to recognize that “we’re not all that,” and that the learning and striving part of the journey will never leave off.
It was great meeting you IRL. Thanks much for enhancing the conversation here today. Here’s to the hope and empowerment our wonderful community provides!
Vaughn, it was great to meet you and so many of the writers I already “knew” from reading WU posts. Thank you for describing the undescribable that is WUnCon, for linking to my own attempt at it, and most of all for sharing your stowaway. As Barbara says above, we all have them… so best to embrace use them as tools to better and deepen our fiction!
Great meeting you, too, Carol. I can. Not. Get enough of those pictures of “The breakup” with Keith, lol.
We writers are so “in our heads,” aren’t we? It was important for me to expose my phantom in Salem’s town square, so to speak, and for the very reasons you and Barbara cite here.
Thanks for writing your post (which definitely led to this one), and for weighing in today. Here’s to marching forth, empowered by our fellows!
Vaughn, your words could fit my writing life. I won’t abandon my work, and I need to remember that my work is worthy and I should embrace it. Maybe we all have a stowaway who whispers “You aren’t quite good enough.” Some days that stowaway invades my writing room and sometimes not. Cheers for more days when the power of fingers on the keyboard overcomes doubt. And as always, the best to you.
You’re so right, Beth. Those phantoms can invade our writing space. And it’s not always about allowing them access. They can be sneaky devils, so diligence is required. When I find they’ve made their way in, I find that banishing them is easiest through my love of story–finding my way back to what brought me to the page. And my community, including you, are powerful allies in that endeavor.
Thanks for this wonderful addition to the conversation. And, as always, thanks for your support.
Vaughn, I’m blown away by your generosity here in talking about the big scary thing. I named my stowaway Bob after my ex and wrote him a letter, which I hung on my wall. I know he’s going to show up every so often because he’s a giant boundary buster, but if I don’t feed him, he doesn’t stay very long. Of course there are times when I’ve ordered him pizza (read ‘self doubt’) and allowed him to hunker in. And really, the only cure is the community of other writers. Stories about the struggle, the hugs, the tough love. We write alone but we keep going by virtue of these connections. I’ve never met any of you in person but I feel as if I’ve known you forever.
Hey Susan–Ha! You need a sign for your office: “No more pizza for Bob!” I’m so with you, that my fellows are such a boon–like my own team of phantom busters!
Isn’t it weird? I feel like we’ve known each other forever, too. Like an actual IRL meeting will be almost like a trivial hiccup before we’re in the sort of back-and-forth that old friends so easily fall into.
It’ll happen, but until then, know that I’ve got your back! Thanks, as always, for enhancing the conversation.
I think your stowaway and my stowaway are good friends. ;-) Prior to attending the conference, I kinda felt like a sophomore. Folks like you—who seemed to always have the right words and stories—were the wise seniors who had this whole thing pretty much figured out.
But during the conference, the conversations I had with everyone from newbies to conference veterans, helped me realize that though we might not all be on the same boat, we are in the same waters: all focused on learning how to tell better stories.
I was encouraged by seeing session and workshop leaders attend other sessions and take notes. Published and yet-to-be-published alike asking questions, working on exercises, and expressing a range of emotions about their work. What I got from that was this: there is no “finished” in what we do. No perfection. We’re always learning, always revising, and always (hopefully) deepening our stories. And WUnderland felt like the perfect environment to remind us of our power to keep doing that.
As always, Vaughn, your willingness to be transparent in your posts is more helpful than you can imagine. Thanks for a WUnderful post. ;-)
I totally agree with you, Grace, that WU’s gurus and mentors are so inspirational, in so many ways–not least among them the fact that they demonstrate that they are still on the journey alongside us.
And speaking of leaders, all I kept hearing was what a wonderful inspiration you are and incisive editor you’ve become! But then I think leadership and dedication come naturally to you. And your personal warmth makes everyone feel welcome, and seen and heard.
When I think of the comfort and camaraderie of the Hawthorne’s lobby, you definitely spring to mind. Wouldn’t it be great if we could just teleport there whenever we felt like it? (Sorry, writerly imagination run amok.)
I’m so glad that what I share resonates and is helpful. I often have to challenge myself to do it, but my exposed vulnerabilities are always met with such understanding and warmth here. It’s good practice for the page, isn’t it?
Wonderful seeing you again, my friend! Thanks for enhancing the conversation here today.
Grace, what you wrote is entirely true in my experience. It isn’t just a book title (ha!) — we really are all authors in progress.
V, you’ve got this! Believe it, believe it, believe it. Write on!
“A.I.P.–it isn’t just a title, it’s a lifestyle,” should be a bumpersticker, lol. It’s so emblematic of the kind of serendipitous magic that enchants everything you touch, T.
With supportive mentors like these, how can I not believe? Thanks for everything!
I am feeling empowered! I never thought about using that particular word in regards to my writing, but it is very apt to describe how I feel. Over the last two weeks I’ve come up against anxiety and fear while plotting and I’ve been able to acknowledge what is going on and then move through to work more on the story. Indeed, I find I’m all the more excited to do so. The magic seems to be coming from the act of writing itself, once I am able to silence the anxiety in my thoughts. It’s wonderful (and empowering) to hear the muse in the stillness and so much fun to try to puzzle out the next scene or choose where to fit in the next clue. I just had to figure out how to get the anxiety to shut up. :D
You have written (and completed!) more books than many. This is not a feat that you should overlook, just because they haven’t been published (yet.) Many people who decide to write don’t finish one book. I think, for myself at least, an important pivot (love the term!) came when I separated out the two parts of writing–the writing of the book and then the publishing of said book. I have long considered success in publishing (either traditional or indie) to be the gold standard that I wrote a “good book.” Over the last several years I was able to figure out many things: 1) Just because you’re published doesn’t mean instant success. 2) Just because you’re published doesn’t mean you’ll keep being published. 3) Many people don’t even write one book, let alone two. 4) It’s important to recognize that there are numerous reasons why your story might not get picked up, of which not being good enough is only one. 5) Using publishing as my gold standard only led to my anxiety that stopped me from writing, because I was afraid I was doing it wrong or making the wrong choices.
Once I realized that publishing is a good sign that you’ve written something others will enjoy, but it isn’t the only measure of success of any book or person, I definitely became empowered in my writing and the magic returned.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this comment, but I’m glad to hear you are empowered, too. Whoever said writing is a marathon was so right. Feeling empowered helps us to keep our pacing steady, I think!
Wow, Lara, great list! Your diligence has produced wisdom. I particularly like how you’ve learned (earned) the ability to separate the creative and biz sides, and while striving to keep them that way (regarding your former gold standard).
I definitely saw where you were going with this post–to an insightful, and supportive, addition to the conversation. I know you gained insight in your time away from the page, but you’ve also gained an aura of self-confidence. It’s contagious, too.
I’ve been so happy to have you back alongside me in this journey, my friend. Thanks for today’s wisdom, and for being there. Onward!
Vaughn, tell that phantom he is not welcome here. He is not allowed to hold you back, to bring you doubt. Send him packing. He can holiday with my demon. LOL.
Hugs, Dee
Hey Dee! Yes, let’s pack them off to some icy island together. How can they hold us back when we’ve got each other?
Thanks! Great catching up with you in Salem. Gosh I wish we could do it more often. Cheers!
Vaughn, Twain spent somewhere near 7 years tinkering with Huckleberry Finn. It came out OK. If your editor and you are seeing with fresh eyes (and words), that’s a fine thing.
I have tried to curse out, shower off and dart away from the stowaway for most of my writing life. Blast him and his chorus of naysayers! I’m working yet on deafening myself to the whispers, or buying the albatross a bright new coat so that I wear him with more grace.
I’m jealous of all the good goodnesses from UnCon; thought I would make it this year, but I wasn’t hip enough, so I had to get a new hip, and I didn’t want to wobble through the days. Thanks for your always thoughtful work.
Hey Tom–Isn’t it funny how hearing tales like Twain’s seven years never fails to soothe? Thanks for that.
Regarding deafening the whispers, I can’t really recommend plugging your ears and singing to yourself. It just encourages the bastards to get comfy in the ole’ cranium. Well, unless it keeps you writing another day. Nothing like a good day’s work to banish the stowaways.
You were definitely missed. And I look forward to the day we can share some phantom-banishing conversation along with a libation or three. Until then, thanks for always being there for me in a more virtual way. Hope things are getting steadier and less wobbly (and more pain-free!) with each passing day, ya hipster.
I would definitely love to have that ability to teleport to the lobby of the Hawthorne, not least because I just didn’t have the time and bandwidth to chat and catch up with everyone. I think you and I ended up on opposite ends of the conference, for the most part, so I really appreciate hearing where you are, here. Sounds like you’re in a really important place on the journey. :-) It’s really exciting!
As for the stowaway, boy do I understand! I came into UnCon this year feeling generally worn down and discouraged by the process. We all hit that point, now and again, and I was trusting that the conference would add water and food to the drooping plant of my motivation. It’s so much easier to listen to those little nagging messages when the energy flags a bit. Thankfully, within two hours of arriving at the hotel, before even the first session, I found myself chatting about my not-yet-drafted story with several colleagues, and discovering that I had more of it worked out than I realized. As you noted with your own conversation, those face-to-face interactions are often as valuable as the (really marvelous) formal sessions. I’m feeling a lot less wilty. Empowered, even! ;-)
Sending you energy and insight as you continue to dig deeper, and thanks–as always–for sharing your journey!
Hey Alisha–It’s so heartening, isn’t it? Just knowing there is a group of frickin’ awesome individuals who totally get us? You all are like a life-raft to me. And then we sort of forget. And then we see each other again, and it’s all new again. Yes, we’re doing the right thing!
I’m so sorry that we never had a chance to lean in and properly catch up. It’s a week, but it’s such a blur! I am glad we had a few moments to reconnect though.
Thanks for always being there. You’re right, I feel like I’m on the verge of something. Not sure exactly what, but it feels providential. And though we’re at different spots with our respective stories, I can say the same about you. It feels like you’re on the verge, and that’s damn exciting. Once and a while we need to step back and recognize that. So I hope UnCon provided that opportunity to you, and I’m sensing that it did.
Which brings us around (once again, nauseatingly, lol) to the word EMPOWERING! I wish for you copious quantities of empowerment, my friend. Here’s to recognizing and accepting the magic. Thank YOU–for sharing, and for always being such a source of support. Cheers!
Vaughn,
“In August I began a rewrite of book one, with hardly a thought about the marketplace. I was focused on depth, on treading where I’d thus far feared to go.”
Only those who are seasoned speak this way. This reveals how far you’ve come and the clear-eyed approach you have adopted. Our job as authors is to make our stories more real than the events, characters, and realizations that inspire them. And in most cases authors who succeed by some measure or by many measures express humility in their path and regarding their work. You have this quality in spades, and that together with the passion you express above will pull you like a good team of horses. Book One always must shine, so going back is a sign of maturity. I can’t wait to see what your heart and creativity yield.
It was great to see you again.
Hey Tom – Speak for yourself. You helped show me what “seasoned” looked like. Or, perhaps more importantly, how the seasoned behaved–with not just dedication, but with generosity, grace, and humilty. I can only aspire, good sir.
Thanks for showing the way. Great seeing you, too. Glad you got to meet Mo. Looking forward to sharing that single-malt (and yes, I’ll enjoy it–maybe more than any libation ever).
“I’ve got to see it through” is my new mantra, and the Stowaway is my same-old same-old demon renamed. Thanks, Vaughn, for the generous gift of this essay, especially for your insights into going deep.
Anna–I’m honored. Thanks much for reading and for letting me know. Here’s to taking it to new depths. Cheers!
Vaughn,
Your descriptions of UnCon match perfectly with my experience there and empowerment is most certainly what I left with! Being with our tribe, feeling so encouraged and supported, sharing in the passion and joy of writing, and opening our hearts to learning from our incredible presenters and from each other all sent me home riding high on the certainty that I am proud to be a writer among writers! Thanks for your post and best of luck as you tackle the hard work.
Warmly,
Gaye
Hey Gayle – I’m still riding that high instilled by UnCon. I wish we’d had a chance for more one-to-one interaction; next time! I’m proud to be a writer among writers, too. What a fabulous way to put it. Thanks for weighing in!
Writing conferences of any kind have the ability to expose my stowaway. No matter how friendly and helpful the company, it’s impossible not to be aware of the gap between where I’d like to be and where I am.
I’m delighted for you, V. There is obviously something deeply important about your trilogy for you to invest all that time and effort. If there was ever a person to exemplify the “Go Big or Go Home” mantra, it is you.
Write on!
Hey Jan – That’s a wonderful way to think about it: as the gap between where we’d like to be and where we are. Reminds me of that Ira Glass video about the taste/skill gap (I’m sure you’ve seen it, but if not it’s worth watching).
For what it’s worth, I’ve always seen you as a leader – someone to admire and to emulate. And I’m sure others feel the same. Plug that into your gap analysis equation at the next gathering. 😊
Thanks for your kind and encouraging words, Boss. Onward!
Big cheers on confronting your phantom! The conference sounds amazing … I do admit when I first read about it all I wanted was go there, but then reason told me that a) it is on the wrong side of the Atlantic, b) I am writing in German, so c) I should really try to find something in German and closer. But secretly I envy all of you who went!
Regarding phantoms: Mine is thin, grey and has a hollow voice. It likes to sit on my shoulder, whispering in my ear. “You know your story does not hold what it promises. The premise might be able to hook readers, but they will start yawning half way through. You will never deliver what you promised at the beginning. There is no audience for this.”
I try to ignore it, shake it off by typing (it hates the rhythm of fingers on the keyboard), but it does give me some headaches.
Hey J – Too bad such puny things interceded (an ocean and a language!), ha. Seriously, it would be great to meet and talk. As I’ve told you before, I am in awe of what you are doing.
I love your recipe for shaking off your phantom, and I can see how true it is, that the rhythm of the keyboard would drive it away better than most anything.
Here’s to shaking them off, and to soldiering on. Thanks much for weighing in!
Maybe one day – next conference???? – I might find the courage (and time, and money…) to mingle with you folks. At the moment I would feel like a child trying to sneak into a grown up’s party. I somehow have the feeling I need to earn the right to be there. – Until then: always a pleasure to connect online! (And keep on digging into those novels of yours – I want to read them one day!)