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Tuesday, April 18, 2006Birth of a NovelistAs a writer, I find exquisite pain in reading something that is really poorly written. In fact, it's almost a physical reaction from deep within my digestive track. Ick. Don't get me wrong -- I'm not saying that I'm the "be all, end all" of writers. I've got a lot of maturing to do in my craft. It's just that I've been a book snob for a very long time. And book snobbery tends to intensify with age and experience. Imagine my chagrin, then, upon opening the pages of a just-mailed-to-my-husband-by-a-well-meaning-relative, vanity press book, and reading the opening paragraph...only to find that my worst fears had been realized. The very first sentence ends with an exclamation point. And the last sentence of the first paragraph also ends with an exclamation point. Yes, that's right -- there are two exclamation points in the first paragraph. That, and there's nothing particularly exciting going on. Someone forgot to take Writing 101. I won't go on about it -- it wouldn't be kind. I deeply understand, after all, the passion behind the pen. I want to see every aspiring author succeed. Well, let me qualify that. I want to see every talented aspiring author succeed. I'm not going to mention the name of the particular vanity press -- it's all too well-known. To me, the calibre of this "publisher" is clearly displayed in the following notice, which I found printed directly beneath the copyright information: "At the specific preference of the author, (the publisher) allowed this work to remain exactly as the author intended, verbatim, without editorial input." You read that correctly. The book received no editorial input. None. It wasn't edited. Every last word and missing comma is exactly the way the author left it. Which, in this particular case, is unfortunate. Painful, even. Oh, the things we learn when we are truly open. Writing fiction is a strange blend of exuberance and misery, incomprehensible to those who have not experienced it. It is something that I never dreamed I'd do. Yet here I am, doing it -- and dreaming about how much better I will be next year. And the year after that. The growing pains hurt; but their result is immeasurable. For years, I believed something about myself that turned out to be a lie. "I could never write a novel," I said. And I believed it. So I wrote a collection of non-fiction essays. "I am an essayist," I said. "That is why I can't write novels." To be sure, I've received emails from folks who have read My Lima Beans Are Allergic to my Spoon, telling me that they were laughing out loud as they read. There's something deeply affirming about knowing you've made a complete stranger laugh. So I continued to believe that I could never write a novel. "I don't know how novelists do it," I said. Then I wrote a novel. It came about in a strange sort of way. I was curled up in bed, reading The Little White Horse and thinking to myself, "This is schlock. I could write a better story than this." Please understand -- I don't normally have thoughts like that while I'm reading. I think I was having an epiphany...or something. It took me six months to write my first novel, a Young Adult fantasy. When it was finished, I marveled at it. Not because I thought I was Just So Wonderful, but because I was amazed at the fact that this almost-500-page tome had come from me. I was....awed by it. And in my state of awe, I was convinced that nary a word could be changed or deleted. Why, the novel was almost sacred. At this point, I suppose I could have found a vanity press that would allow my work "to remain exactly as the author intended, verbatim, without editorial input." Thank goodness for the wisdom that came from months of researching writing and publishing. Thank double goodness for the Internet, which made the research ten times easier. I had a much better plan for my "sacred" novel. But first, I had to get rid of the Agent-I-Never-Should-Have-Signed-With. That'll have to wait until Part Two... Labels: writing |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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8of my readers are feeling chatty:
What?!!!! You don't like exclamation points??!!! What's wrong with you??!!!
;-)
Wow - I guess I have been here for awhile. I need to make myself a mental note that you are 'blogging' again...
Well, I didn't take writing 101 - that's probably why I keep using ...
I'm so glad to be at your blog...I missed it. Love what you've written here. Writing is such a complex business. I dislike many parts of it and think there are great books not getting printed. So I think, everyone should self-publish if that's what they want to do. But I know it wouldn't feel the same as seeing my book in the store fully vetted by goodness knows how many people...Anxiously awaiting part II
Exclamation points are bad!?! Too many of them in a row!! Or too many in a paragraph!! Who knew!! Evidently, not me!!!!
!
Snickle -- LOLOL!
Eph -- You, my friend, have an excellent command of the English language. Oh, to be bilingual like you!
Kathie -- It's good to see you here! And I agree that self-publishing can be a very good thing. It's a shame that the vanity presses have kind of spoiled things for the legitimate PODs.
Shuttered -- Ur, you'd better stick to photography. :)
me type goodly-ish!!!!!
It always bugs me when somebody asks what I do, and after I say "I'm a writer" they invariably say "Oh, I write to," as if what writers do can be done by anybody who can pick up a pencil or tap a keyboard. You don't hear me saying "Oh, you're a brain surgeon? I do surgery too."
The second thing that bugs me is when after they say "I write too," their asking if I would take a look at their writing. That is always an invitation to awkwardness.
Dave -- When they release you from the asylum, you will have more time to devote to your writing. :)
Jerry -- LOL @ the surgery comment! I think the problem is that writing is such a "basic skill," and it's the "moving to the next level" with writing that makes it a vocation. Since brain surgery isn't exactly a "basic skill" (one hopes that it is, of course, concerning one's brain surgeon), folks can't relate to it on the level they think they can relate to writing.
I've had some critique requests that have made me cringe, too (no, Dave, not yours -- I promise!!).
"Invitation to awkwardness." That's a beautiful phrase. Are you a writer? Hey, so am I. Will you take a look at these pages when you have a minute?
:)
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