Too Much Writing Help?

Doesn’t it feel, sometimes, like there are more books, blogs, posts, videos, seminars, webinars and workshops about writing than there are actual books? 

And yes, I see the irony of adding one more post to one more blog… 

But doesn’t it feel overwhelming sometimes? Like, where do you even start? Or, almost as frighteningly, where do you stop? Because what if you bypass that new workshop or you skip over that new how-to-write book and you miss some excruciatingly fundamental wisdom that will stop you from becoming the best writer you can be?

It’s dizzying. 

There is a simple, two-part solution:

1. Read/study only the information that grabs your attention. Since there isn’t one right way to write a book, there isn’t one writing bible to read. You can’t read everything anyway, so get rid of the “should” mentality, and stick with your interests.
2. WRITE! It is so easy to get swept up in the how-to-learn churn, and while there’s some extraordinarily valuable advice out there, writing is also very much learn-as-you-go. Trial and error can be a writer’s best friend. We call it drafts and revisions. 

Absolutely learn from others! But be careful not to slip down the rabbit hole. Otherwise, you may forget to write—and then we’d never get to read your masterpiece. 🙂

Does My Writing Actually Make a Difference?

We are at the mercy of the world. If we didn’t know that before, COVID has reinforced the message very, very clearly.

But the pandemic also reminded us what we can do, what is in our control—like getting vaccinated. A couple of jabs in the arm may not seem like you’re doing a lot in the face of such devastation, but your actions, combined with millions of others, make it essential.

We, as writers, are at the mercy of the publishing industry. You can write the best book ever, but if your timing isn’t right or you haven’t come across the right champion out there in the world, then your brilliance my go unrecognized (for now). 

But what if, like the pandemic, we focus on what we can do? What if we do what is in our control? 

Which is to write. 

And what if we show that piece of writing to one other person? Or maybe two? Maybe it’s your spouse or your best friend or your parents. Now you’ve impacted at least one other person’s life through your words. And if every writer did that? Just touched the lives of a few people? Do you know how many lives would be affected by our writing? 

Dream big, by all means. Strive for that bestseller, if that’s your goal. But ultimately, we write to make a difference in a reader’s life. 

We don’t need the publishing industry for that. 

We’re already doing it.

You Are Who You Say You Are

I identify as a woman. When I’m alone in my house, I still identify as a woman. When I step out my front door, I am fortunate that because my gender identity is easily accepted, no one will tell me I am not a woman. 

I am a writer. When I’m alone in my house, I still identify as a writer. When I step out my front door, however, others will ask, “What have you published?” But does their question negate my identity? 

No. So why does it feel like it? 

Because there are two ways to interpret writer.

One: As an identity. You feel like you have stories in your head bursting to get out and whether you have a lot of time or barely a moment, whether you have written a dozen books or only a line, you feel like this is who you are. 

Two: As profession. It’s what you do (for a living, as a hobby), and if it’s an action, then people expect to see evidence—such as a published book or a completed story. 

We have complete control over the first definition; if you identify as a writer, no one can tell you you’re wrong. But for the second, market forces in the publishing world are often out of our control. So until such a time when people do recognize the job you’re doing, focus on the first one. 

Because if you say you’re a writer, then you are.

The Whirligig of Time

Let’s say you want some homemade chocolate chip cookies. Do you happen to find them around the house? Or do you make them?

Let’s say you want to write. Do you happen to find the time in your schedule? Or do you make time?

I get it. Time is an enemy to so many of us because, well, life. That pesky day job, family responsibilities, a social life (if we’re lucky). When I re-focused on writing, I was teaching full time, mom to two young kids, wife to a husband who traveled. All. The. Time. I barely had time to breathe, let alone write. 

So I had to make some hard choices. I gave up swimming and started working out at home to save the commute time to and from the pool. I rarely watched TV—I definitely wasn’t keeping up with water-cooler conversations at work. I carved out a few hours every Tuesday where I refused to cook dinner and clean up. If my husband wasn’t home, the girls ate cereal. (They survived.)

It’s not easy, especially when writing itself is a challenge. And it’s not perfect. Many Tuesdays I ended up not writing. And it took a long time. Longer than I thought/hope/expected to finish my first novel. But I just chipped away at it, one minute at a time. 

And then I taught my girls how to bake so I could make time for both writing and get my homemade chocolate chip cookies. 🙂

The Same… Only Different

Walt Disney World in Florida has an average annual attendance of more than 58 million visitors (before COVID). Have you been? I’ve had the chance to go dozens of times—most of them when I was 12 and we moved to a town an hour away from Orlando. Every time friends from Canada would come to visit, we’d take them to Disney World. My parents even let me ditch school a bunch to times to go. I returned as a teen a few times, then twice in university. I visited again with my own family, when my kids were 5 and 7. 

But my husband had never been before. He didn’t experience the magic for the first time as a dreamy kid like me, but as an adult, a dad to two princess-obsessed little girls. While I reminisced about my favorite rides, he got to try something new.

Same place. Same rides. Different experiences. 

It’s the same with writing. We all go to the same place (our computers/paper). Yet our experiences—how we write, how we edit, how we sell our stories to the world—are as varied as we are. There’s no one writing process. 

Which means there’s no wrong way, either. It’s simply a matter of finding the way that works best for you. So enjoy your unique experience. 

Because no matter how many writers are out there, you’re one of a kind. 

Carve Out Your Own Space

Doesn’t the “Publishing Industry” sound like one giant behemoth? As if there is one god-like boss at the pinnacle and then a steep hierarchy of editors, agents and publicists? And at the bottom, desperately clawing their way up, are the writers? 

It’s not true, of course. The writing business is, in fact, is a porous fusion of different people pursuing distinct roles all in the process of sharing stories. 

There is no one boss to impress. 

And that’s what makes living this writing life so hard. How do you get ahead—whatever ahead looks like to you? If there are no obvious ladders to climb, how you succeed? How do you even know where to start? 

Like anything in the writing: by reframing your perspective. 

Joining the writing world, however you define it, is not about fitting in. There are way too many facets of publishing and writing for it to be homogenous enough to “fit in”. It’s not even about finding your place. That presumes there’s a niche waiting for you. 

Instead, it’s about creating your role. Being brave enough to make space for yourself. It may take time to figure out how, and it may not be easy. 

But it is possible. And here’s where you start: sit down and write the best book you can. Focus on your story first. Because then you’ll have something wonderful to share later. 

Writing Is a Marathon, Not a Sprint

Ever run a marathon? Yeah, me neither. (And yay for you if you have, you crazy person!) But to me, writing a book feels like I have.

The exciting idea to tackle this goal.

The daunting realization of the task ahead.

The deep inhalation and giddiness of just going for it.

The initial work to learn the best way forward.

The first day. The first run at it.

The exhilaration that you’ve begun. 

The optimism that you’re doing it. You’re keeping up with your training/writing schedule. 

The small pride when you see the miles/pages/word count build up. You’re stronger, better. 

The deflation when you hit the wall. 

The dismay when you realize how far you still have to go.

The doubt that you’ll ever be able to finish.

The drudgery of perseverance.

The distress of failure that you’re sure is on the horizon.

The agony of deciding to give up. The training/writing is just too hard. 

The fragile hope when you’re encouraged to keep at it.

The drudgery of perseverance. Again.

The blooming recognition that you’re still doing it.

The building confidence that maybe you can do this after all.

The determination to see it through, even as tired as you are.

The exhilaration of the final push—so close now!

The euphoria of completion.

Congratulations. 

Living Life

On the TV show Walker, the matriarch Abeline learns her husband has been keeping his cancer diagnosis a secret. He explains that he knows she’ll try to do everything she can but if the treatment doesn’t work, he doesn’t want her to think she failed. She replies: “The outcome of your treatment and my involvement in it… that could never be a failure. It would be our lives.”

I love that line because she could be talking about anything in our own lives where we fear failure, not just a cancer diagnosis for a fictional character. 

We all know failure is a part of the writing life. It’s the part that sucks. When we don’t finish a novel; when we set our writing time aside for “life”, essential as it is; when we do finish a novel, but fail to get an agent. Or fail to get published. Or fail to become a bestseller. 

I’ve learned that so much of the writing life is about reframing. Trying to look at the challenges of writing (failure, rejection, self-doubt, etc.) in a new light. It’s not easy and I don’t always succeed. And while I no longer get mad at myself if I fall back on traditional thinking (I’m a failure because I didn’t [fill in the blank]) I keep trying to keep my mind open to new perspectives. 

“[fill in the blank]… that could never be a failure. It would be my life.”

I like the sound of that. 

Keep The Faith

The hardest part about writing isn’t forming ideas, or creating outlines or drafting pages. 

The hardest part is believing that your work has value.

Who really cares whether you write? You do, and maybe your family or friends, but the rest of the world? 

If you have a day job and you don’t show up for work one day, someone cares. It could be “you’re-in-trouble” kind of concern or “is everything-okay” worry, but your absence will be noticed. 

If you don’t write for a day, a week, a month, will anyone care? 

It’s hard to keep the faith that what you do as a writer is worthwhile, when societal pay-offs (money, recognition, impact) are, at best, far off, at worst, only in your imagination. 

How do you keep slogging through page after page when you fear that no one cares? 

You have faith in yourself. 

It’s a herculean task that requires bravery and courage and no small amount of confidence. 

But it’s also absolutely do-able. You don’t need that bravery and courage and confidence right away. You can work up to it. One word, one page at a time, you’ll come to believe what I already know: your writing has extraordinary value. 

How can I say I have faith in you if I may not have read your work? Because I have faith in the value of stories. And I have faith that every voice—your voice—is important. 

Because anyone who ventures to write is heroic. 

The Secret to Writing Success

Time for some tough love.

There’s only one way to become a successful writer.

You have to write.

 If you never get words on the page, you can never share your story.  

It’s not always easy and there could be a zillion challenges and it may take a while, but here’s the secret. 

A.I.C.

Ass in chair. 

You can read all the how-to-write books out there. You can read all the blogs on writing (including this one!) You can learn all about your favorite authors’ writing processes and listen to all their interviews. You can sign up for workshops and partake in endless writing exercises. 

And all of those activities may help you develop your craft. 

But if you never sit down—with your butt in that chair—and start typing (or handwriting) away at that blank page to tell your story, you won’t get far. 

What you write on that blank page doesn’t have to be good or even great, not for a first draft, but it’s the start you need.

It’s always okay to doubt yourself (every writer does!), so take a moment to validate your feelings. But then? 

Ass. In. Chair.