THE WORK

Writing a short story is an overnight camping trip. Writing a novel is a cross-country trek with your family and all your stuff. If you start a novel, you've got to accept the fact that you'll be two or three years older by the time you finish it.

Writing a novel--though there are surprises in it--takes much more planning and commitment. It's like suing somebody. Before you sue somebody you'd better make sure you're going to still be mad at them in five years. When you begin writing a novel, you've got to make sure that what you go in for is still going to be hot for you three or four years down the road.....Ron Carlson

A novel is a work of the imagination, largely, and depends on the daily discovery of things happening. You know pretty much what your route is, but you don't know everything that's lying along that route. And so the element of imagination in a novel is crucial....Paul Theroux

If I don't thank God for anything else, I thank God for my children, my spouse and my closest friends. Most of my closest friends, the ones to whom I turn for sage advice, are all significantly older than I am. I'm talking early fifties. These women teach me how to live with grace; they teach me how to be a better mother, helping me to understand that trouble don't last always, reminding me frequently that no matter what I'm going through, no matter what I'm worrying about this week, THIS TOO SHALL PASS. I can count these friends on one hand, but that doesn't matter to me. I don't need a whole slew of friends. I need the ones I have.

I called my very closest friend, P, author of this on Friday. I needed some affirmations, quick. In an earlier post I know I mentioned that at the tail end of my novel I just couldn't work on the computer anymore. The white screen was putting me to sleep and I had some other stuff causing me to block in a major way. I decided to go back to my tried and true method: writing longhand. Somehow, writing longhand on my notepad took away all the anxiety, all the formality. Curled up on my couch with peppermint tea, I felt like I was just writing a letter or writing in my journal. It didn't feel formal and therefore it carried no emotional weight. I must have written and revised over twenty chapters by hand and needless to say, once I wrote THE END, all of that stuff had to be typed. Well, it's been a haul but Friday afternoon I typed the last bit of it and now, my entire novel is typed and printed and ready for revision. It's ready.

Knowing this sent me into a full blown panic. All of a sudden it came to me that this is it. Now comes the hard work. Can you do it? Can you really pull it off? Will M (the agent) want it? Will he be able to sell it? Oh sweet Jesus .... full blown panic. So I called P on her cell phone cause I knew she'd understand and as usual, she gave me some very sage advice. She reminded me that every writer, every every writer, goes through this. She told me about her friend, a well published fiction writer, who now earns a seven figure advance on every book, who still goes through sheer panic when she submits her manuscripts. She told me about her own panic when her book was finished, wondering if anyone would ever buy it. She reminded me that these are nothing but thoughts and actually, wayward negative spirits looking for a home. She reminded me that I need to acknowledge them and send them on their way. She said, "You've come too far, you've made sacrifices that not many people are willing to make. Dreams are one thing, but action is another. You've put action behind your dreams. It's here. It's your time. Keep going."

I took a deep inhale, then exhale and thanked God for my friend. P is right. I've spent on books, tapes and conferences what some women spend on furs and diamonds. I've quit working full time. I've stared two overdue car payments in the face so I can write full time and work part time. I've left my kids with Spouse to go up to the mountains for weekends in silence to write. I've pinched from here, there and everywhere for a laser printer, paper, books on craft. I didn't come this far to stop. I didn't come this far to be afraid. I didn't come this far to drown in fear.

So yesterday, as I read the Daily Word, I affirmed that I'm focusing on the desired outcome rather than the obstacles and negative thoughts. I'm forging ahead, no matter what. I'm thinking about the product rather than the process, realizing that what another novelist friend said to me many moons ago is still true: Professional presentation of your VERY BEST work will get attention from an intelligent reader every time. Set high standards for yourself and expect it from your reader. There is no magic, no tricks, just the work.

Be well. Be Love(d). Kiss a Mother.

ANGEL