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January 2006
The Writer's Quest, part 1
Happy New Year to all our CT readers! I hope your holidays, whatever they might have been, were fulfilling and joyful, and that 2006 holds wonderful things in store for you. This will be my first installment chronicling my quest to get a publishing contract for "Cardan's Pod", and while my college class will not start for a couple of more weeks as of this writing, it's a good time to start the journal.
The first thing that I had to come to grips with, though I already had a basic awareness of it, is the difference between writing and publishing. Writing is an art; like other arts, it is a process by which the artist conveys his or her vision and imagination to an audience. Publishing, on the other hand, is a business; the publisher isn't nearly so concerned with how artistic the manuscript is as they are in how marketable it is. The publisher may agree wholeheartedly that a story or book is a wonderful work of art, but if they do not believe they can sell enough copies of it to make a profit, they aren't going to publish it. Conversely, they may read over a submission that they know is poorly written tripe, but if it will sell, they'll rush it into print with a big smile.
It's a rather painful realization that many talented writers will receive rejections this year, even after devoting countless hours to their work, while someone who gained some fame or notoriety through other means will end up on your bookstore's shelves with little effort at all. It's nothing personal; it's just that the publishers know that the public will plop down their hard-earned money for a book with the hottest celebrity's name on it, no matter what the content of the book is like.
If I'm sounding a bit pessimistic, I'm not. What I am being is realistic. Sure, I'd love to think I could package my manuscript, ship it off to an agent who will rave about it and enthusiastically agree to represent it, and within a short time have a publisher who is similarly thrilled to negotiate the rights for the story.
I'd also love to think that I could go out this week, buy a single Powerball ticket, and be the sole winner of a huge jackpot. Both wishes are possible, but not very likely.
Aspiring artists of all genres have to understand that rejection goes with the territory. Stephen King wrote numerous books and stories that were rejected before he sold his first "hit". Funny how all those rejected stories became suddenly publishable once King had a name and a following. That's how the business works, and it would be naïve to think otherwise.
My upcoming college class is the first step in that. Again, it would be nice to think that the head of the college writing department will give me rave reviews for my story. It would be very ego satisfying, but not very helpful. While it's not what I want, what I need and expect is to hear everything that is wrong with the manuscript. What I am paying for in the class is the expert insight into what I should do to fix those problems to make the book better. Growing the thick skin can either begin at this stage, or at the next; without it, I will never persevere enough to get beyond the initial rejections.
My son gave me a copy of Terry Brooks' book, "Sometimes the Magic Works: Lessons From a Writing Life". For those unfamiliar with Brooks' work, he is the author of the highly successful "Shannara" series, the "Magic Kingdom for Sale" series, and was the author of the Episode 1 "Phantom Menace" book tie-in that spent many weeks on the New York Times bestsellers list.
Brooks' first book was "The Sword of Shannara", and in his book on writing he discusses what was supposed to have been the second book in the Shannara series. After writing nearly 400 pages of it, he sent off what he had to his editor, hoping for some suggestions on what to do with it.
His editor told him to scrap it; there was no salvaging the manuscript. Brooks writes that he was discouraged, a bit offended, and needless to say, upset at this appraisal. He also writes that when he received back his manuscript with his editor's notes, he had to admit that the editor was right. Every point the editor made was valid, and while Brooks "recycled" some of the ideas and concepts into other books, that particular one never made it into print.
Terry Brooks also writes that rejection was the single greatest education in writing he ever received. He learned more about writing as he went over those notes from his editor than he had learned in all of his classes and in all of his experience.
I hope I can take Terry Brooks' words to heart, and take the criticisms and critiques for valuable lessons that will make me a better writer.
The only other option is to quit, and I can't see that as any option at all.
Next month I will write from the perspective of the crucible having begun. We'll see how my intentions hold up to reality.
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