The Trouble with Outlines

I tried outlining. I used to long to be a writer who outlines in very much the same achingly desperate way that I used to long to become a person with tidy and organized closets. Thing is, I’m just not the sort for either one. Adi’s hilarious and insightful Monday post started me thinking about why.

Google “novel outline images” and you’ll find gobs of ways to outline a book. It’s not always the roman numeral/capital letter stuff. Methods abound. But my problem is, they are almost always linear. Left to right, up to down. It’s right there in the word itself: Outline.

My stories aren’t left to right or up to down to me. I visualize them more like helixes. I’m at one end of the helix when starting a new project and during the process I’m inside it, with its characters and scenes all around me. If I’m lucky I will eventually come to the far end of the helix, with all the plotting behind me, and then the book is complete.

See me in there, wandering about in my story?

I am not known as a linear thinker–just ask my family. What I do instead, I think the experts call it “radial thinking.” Ideas sparking other ideas in all directions. In three dimensions, even. While this trait apparently makes me a laugh riot at the bar with my droll asides and non sequiturs, it makes just about any outlining task anathema to me. The closest I get to an outline that works for me is an Idea Web. (Incidentally, here’s a pretty cool one.)

Rather simple idea web for the letter B

So how do I organize a plot? The same way I go about organizing a closet. First few drafts, I just cram everything in there, wherever it fits, even if it doesn’t.

Fibber McGee’s Closet

Then in the next draft I take everything out. Yup. Empty the entire closet and set all of its contents on the floor. In other words, by the time I start this particular draft, I’m starting over. I’ve figured out the scenes that are essential and that have a specific place they need to occur in the plot line. Those things are like the most important things that need to be in the closet. I place those on the shelves first, where I can make sure they go into their ideal slots. The inciting incident, at the beginning; the climax scene, near the end, etc. Sometimes I do this physically, by cutting up a printed draft and laying out everything on the floor around me. Then I figure out how the other scenes/items need to fit around them.

The closet shelves are getting filled up again, but neatly this time. The draft seems to be coming together.

Then, a reversal! At some point I realize that not everything I want in the closet is going to fit. I have to omit items, or change them or wedge them in differently. Often, once I see how things are not quite fitting into my closet, I have to take every last item out and start over again. Scenes get pulled out and reworked or rearranged.

Theoretically speaking.

I organize and place them by instinct almost, juxtaposing scenes for max effect, keeping all the plot balls in the air.

At some point, finally, everything has a place. It looks good; it feels right and complete. I don’t know how else to explain it, but my story is plotted then. It’s set. It’s done.

Now you. Tell me about your outlining technique. At least, tell me if my method makes sense to anyone but me.

Write How You Know

So I had this dream that I was doing a conga line led by Boston Pops conductor Keith Lockhart and Wally the Green Monster, except there was no music playing, and it was morning, so nobody was drunk. And there was an audience, only they were there for something else, so they were a little confused, but they would occasionally toss out halfhearted words of encouragement as we awkwardly shuffled by.

Then I had this other dream that I finished the outline for my novel-in-progress.

Ha ha, just kidding. One of those things actually happened. The other will never happen, ever.

It’s true. While I will conga at 9:30 AM/sing/wear a gold sequined hat/sacrifice a goat for the Pops, I can’t write an outline to save my life. Like, literally, if Al Capone had a — um, un-filled-out Form 1040 pointed at my head, and he was like, “OUTLINE YOUR NOVEL NOW, TOOTS!” I probably still couldn’t do it.

“And put in something nice about my luscious, full lips!”

Some people can outline a novel the way my cat Bert I. Gordon pees on the bath mat — with elegance and aplomb. I am not one of these people. I know this now, after months of trying to outline to no avail. I’d thought, “Hey, I have a deadline, I need to be efficient! No more dipsticking around with scenes willy nilly! OUTLINE!” It was such a good plan. Here’s my progress:

Character: Redwing [This is the title of the book.]

Conflict: Something bad happens.

Also: Plants.

Then I drew a picture of goggles.

Eventually, I had to come to terms with the fact that the Plan was not working. So I wrote a scene instead. Then I wrote another scene. I still don’t know how the story ends, but, theoretically, I will have a novel soon. So, theoretically, my publisher won’t end up visiting me in the night with cement overshoes.

It can be very tempting to try to change your process when faced with the new demands a contract brings. Do I have to write more often, and with more purpose, than before? Absolutely. But I wrote scene by scene before, and that’s still how I have to do it, whether or not I have a potentially fatal deadline (and if you do have one, click that link and read Laurie Ann Thompson’s post). A kirikuchi char can’t change its spots, as they say.

“I can, actually, through hybridization.”

I know this is not that revelatory, and also that I have difficulty both spelling and saying “revelatory.” But as I, like the other Emus, go from “signing contract” to “fulfilling contract,” I’m learning one thing at a time. So if you’re wondering whether to instantly become a different sort of writer, let me cast my vote for Team Write How You Know.

I’ve also learned that the conga is not my dance. In fact, it’s no one’s dance. So you should all come over and we’ll do the electric slide. I can show you one step at a time. Just don’t ask me to outline it.

Inciting Incident: BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE

Breaking news! Sophie’s Squash by our Pat Zietlow Miller–

Breaking news! Sophie’s Squash by our Pat Zietlow Miller–STARRED REVIEW from Kirkus!

The Cookie Monster Puts on Makeup

For my author photo, I wore makeup. Just enough to cover blemishes and touch up those dark circles. I also got dressed up and went through three wardrobe changes.  Two things I dislike: dressing up, getting my picture taken. I’m okay with makeup, but I imagine if I had to wear it more frequently, I’d dislike that too.

But hey, at least I’m not this guy.

Pull my hair and see what comes out!

Yes, Tara’s post Monday immediately made me think of Bozo the Clown. You think the cat beneath the ghost makeup and red-winged hair enjoyed this outfit? Smile, Mr. Clown! Smile! Juggle, Mr. Clown! Juggle!

I am no doubt projecting. (I don’t think Bozo juggled.) I’m sure the dozens of Bozo incarnations through the years and markets loved everything they were told to do. Okay, maybe not, but you never saw the parts they didn’t enjoy.

Pat’s post on village people and Tara’s post both reference the idea of community. In a community, unless you’re supreme dictator (Pinky, we’re going to try to take over the world), sometimes you gotta wear makeup and smile for the camera even when the last thing you want to do is cut out another sentence.

But that was my favorite one. That’s a sentence that makes me actually want to smile. Hell, I’ll wear eyeliner for that sentence (note: I did not wear eyeliner).

But I thought I was supreme dictator.

Yes, I’m going through line edits. Lots of cutting. And I’d thought I’d already trimmed the fat…

Wait, editor is telling me to cut something that I only added because my agent thought it was needed. Maybe that’s what Bozo’s red-wings are for, so people can pull his head both ways and see if it explodes. If Bozo’s head explodes, does confetti come out?

But Holy Hell, I’m an artist and I’m supposed to be true to myself!!! Cue maniacal laughter. Or queue it, because there are a lot of other authors lined up, maniacally laughing.

Honestly, compromise blows. I want to eat twenty cookies, but mom’s only allowing me ten. But I really like cookies. That butter frosting, that chewy texture. I start eating them and the world disappears. It’s nothing but me and my cookies (note: if anybody needs a cookie monster for a child’s party, I will happily put on the outfit and grumble my way between mouthfuls).

Sandwich cookies. The word sandwich is in there. Must be healthy.

Admittedly, I get obsessed with my cookies (and cupcakes (and parentheses)).

I will even dress to the 9s for my cookies.

Editors, agents, etc. are amazing people. Sometimes they frustrate us because they keep taking away our cookies, sometimes different cookies, sometimes our favoritest ones (insert your favorite pejorative), but if we can take a step back, we realize all that cookie manipulation is not meant to make our brains confetti-explode. They’re trying to keep us in tip-top shape for our makeup and pretty outfits and book tours.

Definitely don’t want a bunch of crumbs in those books.

Metaphor out. Now I’m gonna go get a cookie and figure out how to take over the world.

This time it’s for real!

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Joshua McCune is the author of the Talker 25 trilogy (Greenwillow). Dragons, war, romance (though not with dragons – I don’t do bestiality). First one drops in early 2014.

 

The Fine Line Between Promo & Bozo

There’s an author on a popular social media discussion forum who starts a half dozen Twitter-like threads about her self-published books at least twice a day. My inbox floods with @’s, RT’s and hashtags when it’s supposed to be filled with lively discussion and debate about children’s literature. I’ve tried to gently steer this author, explaining that Twitter blasts aren’t appropriate for a discussion forum, but she continues to promote her books as if she doesn’t care about annoying the group membership.

Likewise, I’ve seen authors on Twitter tweet “read my award-winning book!” and “my book rated 5 stars on Amazon!” ad nauseam, never writing about anything other than their work.

And you know, when it comes to book promotion, that just doesn’t work.

Imagine a cocktail party. Whom at that party do you slowly back away from? The person inflating themselves, talking about their accomplishments, their interests, even their Amway products (“but they really are superior!”). They never engage in conversation, they never ask about you. You stealthily pull out your phone and text a friend across the room: “Save me!”

Social media is no different. If you constantly talk yourself up, everyone’s going to tune you out. It’s like a radio station that loops the same song for 24 hours. Once or twice and you’ll bop your head to the beat; more than that and you’ll bop your head against the wall.

This is why book promotion is so difficult; there’s a fine line between promo and being a bozo. How do you inform people about your book without sounding like a windbag?

What I’ve learned over the past seven years of blogging is that being a friend to others is the way to go. Be helpful. Prompt interesting discussion. You don’t have to talk about your book to do book promotion. In fact, I roughly adhere to the 80-20 rule. Talk about your work only 20% of the time (or less). If you’re funny and entertaining online, people will assume your book will be similarly guffaw-inducing. And maybe they’ll buy it.

But the worst thing to do is to beg. You’ve seen it: “Only 34 more ‘likes’ and I’ll reach 500! Go ‘like’ me! Please RT!” Really? Is this the way to get quality followers? No. It’s the way for authors to inflate their numbers and their ego. Authors should stop looking at the numbers and start looking at the people. Because people online are just like the ones at the cocktail party–except they don’t need anyone to save them. They just need to press a button and you’ll go away.

(But please don’t go away! Tell me, what book promotion mistakes do you see online?)

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Tara Lazar loves writing witty bios that make her sound interesting, but often fails. Her debut picture book THE MONSTORE will be released with the Aladdin imprint of Simon & Schuster on June 4th. She’s the “Social Media Captain” for the NJ chapter of SCBWI. There’s more hilarious authorly escapades at her blog, taralazar.com.

Teacher Appreciation Week

This is a book I wrote in elementary school. The definitive sequel to Julie of the Wolves, in which the main character travels to San Francisco to live with her pen-pal. Why yes, I did the cover art myself! Don’t you think the dress made out of white-out is a nice touch?

My fourth grade teacher really earned this dedication (and not just for saving his laughter for the teacher lounge!)

Finally, the “About the Author” page.

(As it turns out, I am much better suited to be a writer than a marine biologist.) –Melanie Crowder

I was very fortunate to have teachers from an early age who encouraged my writing. Mrs. Wandschneider told me to keep writing when I was in fourth grade. In fifth grade, Mr. Holm laughed so hard at one of my poems that he cried. In seventh grade, Mrs. Mueller said something I wrote gave her chills. And, in high school, Mr. Harrell relentlessly pushed me to get better and Mrs. Veidemanis had me read Nora Ephron for inspiration. Thanks to them, I always saw myself as a writer, which made all the difference. –Pat Zietlow Miller

I had so many great teachers, I really don’t want to pick just one. Instead, I’d like to say thank you to each and every one of them. I was always a rule follower who loved school, but I’m still sure it wasn’t easy teaching the shy little know-it-all hiding in the back reading the paperback tucked inside her textbook. These days, my son has a favorite teacher from an earlier grade whom he still talks about nearly every week. In his words, she is the best teacher ever, because, he says, “She never told us what to do, she just inspired us to do it.” Not an easy feat to pull off, but such a lofty goal for all of us to aspire to, I think. –Laurie Ann Thompson

Most of my teachers were outstanding, The rest get to have a villain named after them in my novels. But seriously, having been a teachers’ aide, I can tell you firsthand that teachers are *way* under-compensated for their work and that they deserve those summers off (even though most of them continue working or furthering their education over the summer). –Carol Brendler

My favorite teacher was Cookie Schneiderman, although I never dared call her “Cookie”. I couldn’t figure out WHY her name was Cookie, but I thought it was pretty awesome and I wanted to change my name to Cookie, too!

Mrs. Schneiderman just happened to be my neighbor–our backyards shared a common wooded space. All my third grade classmates thought I snuck over there to steal test answers, but I was invited over for milk and cookies (real cookies) and chats about books and writing.

I admit, I was the teacher’s pet. It was obvious from the first day of school when she asked me to help pass out name tags. The other kids rolled their eyes and coughed “pet”, but I thought it was a privilege to be the teacher’s favorite. I strove to impress her.

Unfortunately I don’t recall exactly what she told me about writing, but she encouraged me and didn’t laugh when I said I wanted to be like Roald Dahl and Judy Blume. She let me write extra-long stories when the assignments were only 100 words–she knew I wanted to go further.

I’ve been trying to get in touch with Mrs, Schneiderman, but so far no luck. Are you out there, Cookie? Let’s get together for milk and chocolate chip. –Tara Lazar (nee Mahon)

From elementary school through college, I had so many teachers who encouraged my writing that I feel bad singling out just one! But I would like to share my appreciation for my 9th-grade English teacher, Lois Bassen. She was a published and produced playwright, and probably the first adult I’d ever met who was a serious writer. I still remember the big creative writing assignment she gave us for the year: write a fairy tale and then use the ideas of psychologist Bruno Bettelheim to analyze it. It was a revelation to think that something I wrote might be as worthy of close reading and analysis as classic Greek myths and great European novels (which Mrs. Bassen did a great job of teaching us, too). That class was the place where I started to realize that becoming a published author wasn’t necessarily a pipe dream, but something that hard-working real people could accomplish. –Tara Dairman

…and to round it out, Laurie wrote an entire post on the topic here!

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Melanie Crowder graduated in 2011 with an MFA in Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts. She is the author of the forthcoming middle grade novel, PARCHED (Harcourt Children’s Books, 2013). A West Coast girl at heart, Melanie now lives and writes in the beautiful (if dry) state of Colorado.

Visit her online at melaniecrowder.net.

It takes a village … to write a book

It takes a village.

Those words typically represent how many people it takes to successfully raise a child. Parents can’t do it without help from relatives, neighbors, schoolteachers, friends and everyone in the surrounding community.

As I move down my path as an author, I’ve discovered those words also apply to book writing. Obviously, to successfully publish a book, you need agents, editors, illustrators, designers, printing press operators, marketers, booksellers and more. But often, there’s a whole village of people involved before the sale even gets made.

I think many people assume that writers sit down, write their book in solitude, edit it a bit, send it off and wait for a publishing offer to arrive. That’s usually not the case, although — because I may be the biggest introvert in the world — it certainly sounds appealing.

I was just fortunate enough to sell my third picture book — The Quickest Kid in Clarksville — to Chronicle Books. Here’s how a village helped make that happen, step by step.

Step One

I wrote a solitary first draft at my kitchen table after being inspired by Jacqui Robbins’ and Matt Phelan’s picture book The New Girl … And Me. I thought its depiction of a beginning friendship and the pitfalls that can occur along the way was spot-on, and I wanted to see if I could take that theme in a new direction. I’d also been hanging around my youngest daughter’s school, and the voices of some of the kids had gotten stuck in my head and made their way into my manuscript. The first draft was titled The Fastest Feet on Fleet Street and had two girls competing to see who was the better runner, jumper and double-dutch rope-skipper. They start out disliking each other, but end up as friends. But I knew I wasn’t done, I needed …

Step Two

I sent the draft through my two critique groups. They made comments, and I made adjustments. Then, I won a picture book critique from esteemed picture book writer Dori Chaconas in a contest and I sent the story her way. She had great things to say about the voice and suggested that I have one of the girls be new to the neighborhood so she’d be more of a threat to the other, who had been reigning queen of the block. I thought this was a great idea, rewrote accordingly and proceeded to …

Step Three

I took the manuscript along to the Rutgers One-on-One Plus children’s writing conference (which, by the way, is a wonderful experience if you ever get the chance to go). The special thing about this conference is that you get paired with an editor, agent or writer and get to spend 45 minutes with them 1-on-1 digging into one of your manuscripts and soaking up their knowledge. I was paired with Chelsea Eberly, an associate editor at Random House. Not only did Chelsea explain the concept of a story hook better than anyone else I had ever heard, she also turned on a huge light bulb for me by suggesting that I set the story in the past and look for a historical angle to give the story a more strongly defined identity and purpose. Almost instantly, I thought of setting the story in 1960, the year African-American sprinter Wilma Rudolph won three gold medals at the Summer Olympics in Rome. I went home full of excitement and rewrote the story so both characters idolized Wilma and wanted to be just like her. That brought me to …

Step Four

I attended a SCBWI conference in Iowa and submitted the latest version for a critique. I was paired with Brett Wright, an assistant editor at Bloomsbury. He had a lot of good things to say in his detailed critique, but he also suggested amping up the tension between my two competing athletes so, as he put it, “They earn their happy ending.” This made sense to me, and was relatively easy to do, so I went at it and moved to …

Step Five

Now, I thought the story seemed ready to submit. Ammi-Joan Paquette, my agent, agreed and started sending it out. Some rejections arrived, which is inevitable, and then we received a very nice note from Tamra Tuller at Chronicle Books. She said she liked the story, but something didn’t seem quite right. Maybe there wasn’t enough Wilma Rudolph? She didn’t know exactly how to fix things, but if I was willing to try, she’d be happy to look at it later. I was willing, so that led to …

Step Six

I was off of work and alone in my house the week between Christmas and New Year’s, and I made revising the story my top priority. But I wasn’t exactly sure how to get started. So I sent the story back to my critique group friends sharing Tamra’s comments and asking for ideas. They did not let me down. Norene Paulson sent a list of brainstormed thoughts about how to make Wilma more prominent. Lisa Morlock suggested using the story’s setting to add punch. And, Jill Esbaum offered some character advice. So I pondered, and began …

Step Seven

I did a bunch of research to learn more about Wilma Rudolph.  I read her autobiography and other children’s books about her. And in doing so, I learned some very interesting things. Wilma had grown up in Clarksville, Tenn. which was still segregated in 1960. Blacks and whites went to separate schools, saw separate doctors and ate at separate restaurants. But after Wilma’s Olympic victories, Clarksville wanted to throw her a victory parade. Wilma agreed, but said the event had to be integrated. So that parade was the first integrated event in Clarksville history. Knowing that, I moved my story’s setting to Clarksville and had both girls planning to attend Wilma’s victory parade. I also took out the jumping and rope-skipping elements and had the girls’ competition focus only on running events loosely patterned after Wilma’s three Olympic events. And the title changed to become The Quickest Kid in Clarksville. I look a deep breath and advanced to …

Step Eight

I sent the story off to Joan. She asked a few questions, I made a few alterations and she sent the story back to Tamra, who took it to an editorial meeting and then to an acquisitions meeting and then, amazingly, bought it, which resulted in  …

Step Nine

Celebration! (And, of course, awaiting the editorial notes from Tamra.)

So thank you to everyone in my village. As they say in sports, this was a team win.

You may be a solitary scribe slaving alone in your room. You may track your progress using a nifty star chart like Tara Dairman.

That’s all good. But once you’ve gotten your manuscript as far as you individually can, consider sending it out into your village.

And if you don’t have a village, go find some like-minded people and create one.

You and your book will be better for it.

No Fault in These Stars

April stars bring…May book deals?

Last week on Facebook, a friend of mine posted that she’d “resorted to using a star chart” in her toddler’s potty training. “Never say never in parenting!” she wrote. So, of course, I had to chime in in the comments that she knows someone well past potty-training age who’s still using a star chart: Me.

My stars, of course, are for writing, not for using the toilet. (Though anyone who’s familiar with Anne Lamott’s concept of “sh*tty first drafts” could argue that they’re essentially the same process.)

Then, on Monday, Laurie Thompson’s post about deadlines kicked off a discussion in the comments that once again led to admissions of star chart use on my part. I even went into more detail about my methods this time:

2 hours of drafting time = 1 gold star.

30 gold stars = 1 trip to the movies.

No drafting = no gold stars = blank stretches on the star calendar = SHAME.

Motivation accomplished!

Want to make your own? All you need is one free calendar…

As Laurie said in the comments, “It seems kind of silly that we need these simple tricks to make us do something we already love doing,” and I agree. I wish the spirit constantly moved me to write more. I wish I was the kind of person who woke up every morning full of confidence and motivation, unable imagine life without my daily five-hour stint at ye olde writing desk. And it’s not like the magic never happens, like I’m never excited to sit down and work. I used to be a write-when-the-spirit-moves-me sort of writer…it just took me more than five years to draft a single book that way. So now I use the shiny stickers to help speed the process up a bit.

…and some foil stars! Or “Etoiles en papier d’aluminum,” if you’re fancy.

Another advantage to having a star chart (or, better yet, star calendar) is that you can look back at your writing patterns over time. This year, I got off to a pretty good start in January, but then my second editorial letter came, so I had to put my WIP aside to work on more Gladys edits. February only has a couple of gold stars, since most of that month was devoted to edits and travel, but things pick back up again in March, and April is my starriest month so far. If I can keep it up through May, I may even have a (stinky, poopy, cr*ptastic) first draft on my hands.

So, they may be silly, but I’m sticking with my stars. In fact, I’m just a couple away from my first reward, a night at the movies! Of course, being so devoted to my work, I have no idea what’s even in theaters right now. Any recommendations, guys?

They call them deadlines because they can kill you, right?

As I’ve mentioned before, my most recent book sold on proposal, so I’m now staring at a great big fat hairy
D-E-A-D-L-I-N-E.

Former Emu Peter Salomon is in a similar situation with his second book, GHOSTLY. (You can read the announcement here.) Peter and I have struck up a daily accountability email to report our progress and cheer each other on. I’ll admit I’m a tad jealous, but I love hearing how Peter is making amazing progress and writing up a storm. (By the way, his book sounds seriously, creeptastically awesome, and I can’t wait to read it!)

Unfortunately, the harder I try to work and more I try to focus, the more it feels like I’m moving in slow motion, fighting a desperate (losing) battle against the quicksand that is pulling me down. Life has been unavoidably crazy-making busy lately. My family is being pulled in multiple different directions, while still trying to make time to come back together again whenever possible. I’m definitely not willing to give that up. My health has also been a bit of a challenge lately, which I can’t do anything about at the moment besides wait, hope, try to get enough sleep, and drink a LOT of coffee. And, I’m already thinking about the NEXT book and getting nervous about not having anything new to send out right now. (Note: This seems to be a common Emu affliction…

• Tara Lazar’s Confessions of a Next Book Addict,
• L. B. Schulman’s Gotta Do It Write Away,
  
• Melanie Crowder’s Fire Season,
• and there are probably countless others, since it has to be on the mind of every contracted–or published–author.)

So, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how to get this deadline beast under control. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

1. Balance: When I found out about this deadline, I decided I didn’t have time to read until the draft is finished. But the longer I went without reading, the crankier I got, and the less able I was to write. Reading fuels me (duh, right?). So, I’m going back to giving myself time to read every day. I had also decided, at first, that I had to keep writing during lunch and to eat whatever was at hand. Seriously? I’ll be better off in the long run if I eat something healthy–and take time to enjoy it–preferably with a good book! On the other hand, those sudden urges to clean the refrigerator, wash the windows, or organize the garage? It’s probably best to ignore them for the next few months. Having a book contract is a fine excuse for having a messy (or in my case, disastrous) house, right? RIGHT?
2. Small goals: I keep thinking about how much more research I need to do, how many more interviews I need to set up, and how many more chapters are left to write. It’s a bit daunting. Overwhelming, really. Okay, it’s completely freaking paralyzing at times. I really need to quit thinking about the whole book and only focus on the next small bite. Writing the next little piece sounds so much easier than writing the whole darn thing! Of course I can do that next teeny tiny part. Piece of cake! (Which brings me to…)
3. Bursts/Rewards: I think often about Melanie’s post on the Run-Rest cycle, which really struck me. Rather than feeling like I should be writing all the time—and then not wanting to write at all (which is what was starting to happen, even though I LOVE this book!), I’m going to try to be more mindful of working times and resting times. After all, I can still be doing something “productive” when I’m resting (like reading emails, catching up on Twitter, or eating chocolate)… hey, look, rewards! Not that I’m easily motivated by cheesy rewards or anything. (Okay, I confess, I’m totally motivated by cheesy rewards.) And when I’m enjoying those rewards, I must remember to…
4. Focus on the now: I’m going to practice mindfulness and make sure to fully enjoy my family, my health, my little successes, and my rewards as they come. I’m also going to try to stop worrying about what’s next. Those other manuscripts that I’ve been working on will still be there waiting for me when this one is finished. My agent will probably thank me if she doesn’t hear from me for a few months. And if I don’t have something new go out on submission for the next 4 months, it isn’t going to tank my whole career. So, one thing at a time (or at least, I can make working on those other manuscripts one of the rewards for a successful burst, or something to play with when I’m resting.)

That’s my plan so far, but what about you? What tips and tricks have you found for staying motivated and sticking to a deadline without letting it overwhelm you? Please share–I’m going to need all the help I can get!

Regarding Editors & Big BUTS . . .

Don’t get me wrong. The best thing to happen to a writer is her editor. Having a collaborator who is just as infatuated with your characters as you are, who is as crazy in love with literature, who is as eager to pore over every paragraph of your writing to make sure it sings–priceless. However, I must point out that there is a common affliction among many editors. Sorry to say, they often have big BUTS. In Adi Rule’s Monday post, she reveals that an editor acquired her novel Sing BUT then turned around and went away to have a baby or something. I agree with Adi; those kinds of ‘buts’ can be nerve-wracking to the author.

If you’re a writer, you, too, may have encountered one or more editors with big BUTS, as in:

• Dear Author, I enjoyed reading your novel immensely. In fact, I couldn’t put it down, BUT I feel that it is not the right fit for our list …
• Dear Author, we very much like your short story and all of my colleagues agree that there is a need today for truly strong writing such as yours, BUT unfortunately we just acquired something very similar …
• Dear Author, I love the changes you’ve made to this picture book text, BUT there are still one or two things that don’t work …
• Dear Author, I am looking forward to working with you on Your Newly Acquired Novel, BUT I am going on maternity leave. See ya in 3 months. (This has happened to at least 3 writers I know, including me.)
• Dear Author, your editor has left the company. Actually, he has left the industry entirely in order to pursue his true passion: building ukuleles out of discarded cigar boxes BUT do not despair! We have assigned another editor to the project and she seems pretty darned enthusiastic about your story as well.

A Cigar Box Ukulele

Wait now –WHAT?!

That last one is similar to something that happened to this writer I know. She was assigned a different editor from the one who first fell in love with her piece. Wait a minute, she thought, the first editor’s true passion was supposed to be my novel. She thought they had a thing going, and now she had to worry that this replacement editor wouldn’t give her story the same kind of lovin’ she had been anticipating.

Then the editing began and she discovered that her new editor hearted her characters too, and was every bit as dedicated. There were many months of liking things, BUT …. Then one day, when that author’s galley proofs arrived via post (as mine my friend’s did yesterday) she realized that her new editor, who had previously exhibited signs of bigBUT-itis seemed to have completely recovered. There were no buts about it.

The oddest thing. When an editor is cured of this affliction, it’s the author who feels relief.