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So, still sick. Sucks.
Anyway, Larissa Ione has a great post over at her blog called “The Sweeter Side of Rejection,” which I originally read as “The Sweater Side of Rejection,” which is probably because I’ve got Sweat on the brain, what with the 70 days and all.
I digress. Happens when you’re feverish.
As I was saying, Larissa’s post is fabu. She says all kinds of great stuff about how rejections suck and dealing and etc., but the following was especially enlightening:
I look back now and thank my lucky stars that no one bought me back then. Okay, stop looking at me like that. I’m not crazy. Really… [snip]
When I take a look at what I write today, I’m amazed at how much my voice has changed and how much I’ve learned. Mostly, I write paranormals, but even my contemporary works have evolved. I LOVE what I’m writing now, and I LOVE who I’m writing for.
Had I sold way back then, I’d be miserable right now. I wasn’t ready to be published now matter how badly I wanted it.
This is a really good point, and one that I haven’t see stated a lot. Please read the whole essay. I also really think this is an “only in hindsight” thing. You won’t know it’s an “under the bed” book when you are working on it. You can’t, or you’d just chuck it and move on. You wouldn’t go through that necessary development.
My earlier books weren’t ready. Didn’t know it then. Was very frustrated with the whole rejection experience. But now that I know what it takes to actually bring a book to publication, how much you need to love it to work through all those stages, how many rejections you face with your work AFTER it’s published, the whole experience of book publication, I have a tough time imagining doing it with some of my earlier works. Like Larissa, I LOVE what I’m writing now, and I don’t know if I would have been writing it had I sold my earlier books.
Now I’m going back to bed.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
I sleep now.
(Yes, comments are disabled because, yay, Spoiler Free.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about this advice recently. It’s a favorite in my writing circles. Bad review making you question your skills as a storyteller? “Protect the work.” A lot of outside commitments eating into your writing time? “Protect the work.” Industry changes or news getting you down? “Protect the work.” (I think it’s Susan Elizabeth Philips’s mantra, but I may be wrong about that.)
Like all advice, it’s easier said than done. And like a lot of advice, it’s possible to convince yourself that you’re following it when there is nothing further from the truth.
What does it really mean? “Protect the work?”
- It means ignoring bad reviews. Just because someone didn’t like a particular aspect of your book doesn’t mean you did it poorly. Nor does it mean it’s your job to fix that aspect. It’s their problem. I read on a blog the other day about a speech that writer James Rollins gave at Thrillerfest (pardon the hearsay, but the lesson is there, even in parable form): “He’d read the reviews for his first book and noticed that many of them commented on lack of characterization. So he was trying to work on the characterization. He submitted the manuscript to the editor, who saw some of the characterization attempts and asked him what he was doing. He told her, and she said that his great strength was making a book a page turner and to stop worrying about what the reviewers were finding wrong.” That’s protecting the work. Do what you do best. What one person hates about your work will be another person’s favorite part. Don’t try to be all things to all people, or you won’t please anyone.
- It means finding a way around the industry “rules.” Ignore the rules, if that works for you. Or use them to your advantage. Or find a way to bend them to your will. But realize that the work comes first. What do you write? What do you write well? Those should be your first questions. After that should come the question of what the industry wants and how best to give it to them. You may not have an answer to that question. That’s okay. Because it’s more important to write something you love that the industry doesn’t know it wants yet, than to write something you don’t love — because, trust me, the industry won’t want that. They can smell it, and they stay away. Protect the work by putting it first, and then finding a way to bend it to the industry’s needs second. This is the best article I’ve ever read on the subject. It’s what the “branding” folks are always going on about. Find out what really speaks to you about your work. Chances are, you’ll find a way to fit it into the industry’s flavor-of-the-month.
- It means taking the tough route for the sake of the book. Even if it means waiting a little while, or turning down a chance to do those revisions because it would mean turning your book into something you don’t want it to be. Not taking the contract because it would put your work in the hands of someone who doesn’t deserve to have it. Sticking it under the bed until you have the ability to do the premise justice. Take heart. You aren’t the first writer to do this, and you won’t be the last.
- It means a dozen flavors of these things, but they all boil down to the same point:
PUT THE WRITING FIRST
Don’t write to market. Don’t write to sell. Don’t rush. Don’t sell yourself short. Don’t skimp on something that needs to be in a story because some reader blog has decided they hate this aspect. Don’t pay attention to reviewers who talk about how disappointed they’ll be if you decide to take your series in one direction. Don’t listen to an agent who says such-and-such is dead. Don’t listen to an editor who tells you you’ll never make it. Don’t listen to a critique group who tells you you “can’t” have XYZ in a story or it will never sell.
They are lying. They are all lying because if you put what you want in your story, if you put in your story what it needs, if you dig deep and write honestly and make it work, then you’ll find that it does — that people who claimed they’d “never” like XYZ in fact do, that a market that didn’t seem open to ABC in fact is, and that those reviewers/readers/agents/editors will actually surprise themselves.
I’ve been in several conversations with several writers over the past few days and all are questioning their careers, the state of the industry, the words of critics, their future steps. And as I’ve listened and responded and tried my best to give advice, I keep hearing the same words over and over again in the back of my head. Protect the work. Protect what makes your writing your writing. Does that mean not signing the contract? Not making the revisions? Not going online? Does it mean regrouping? Retracing? Starting over? Accepting a setback? Well, no one said this would be easy.
Protect the work means to be honest about what you are writing. Be honest with yourself, with your audience, and with your story. Everything else comes later. Protect the work.
(Yes, this was another self-slap.)
It was one year ago today that Secret Society Girl was unleashed upon the world.
Here’s what I did:
And now, a year later, I’m finishing up book number three, a few weeks in to the release of book two, and waiting to share some very very cool news that I just received (yes, I’m such a tease!)
Wow. I can’t believe it’s been a year.
Also, happy birthday to Annie, who reminded me!
Some other cool stuff:
HelenKay is fielding an interesting and surprisingly civil conversation in the comments section of her latest post about the RWA changes.
The Word Wenches have a visiting doctor telling them all about historical medicine. Scary stuff (and I say this having been to the Walter Reed “Museum of Medical Oddities” (can’t remember the real name) down the street from my apartment.)
I’m still so psyched about Betina Krahn’s RITA win, I can’t even tell you. I loved her BOOK OF TRUE DESIRES so much when I read it last year. It blew me away. I even wrote an Amazon review of it.
 And finally, Scott and Justine have had an attack of the lolcats on InsideADog. I’m so tempted… but Sven Says Sweat. However, if I work really hard today, I might allow myself to play later. I do have an idea…
I’m pretty sick right now — started last night on the plane flight home, and has gotten worse since, so this blog post will, most likely, reflect the pathetic state of my body and brain. Regular readers know how poorly I deal with illness. There might be rants coming up.
The timing couldn’t be worse. I’ve got a major deadline coming up, and my brain and typing fingers need to be in top physical condition for the next few weeks. Ugh… can I will myself to get better?
Enough downers, however. Let’s talk about some cheerful stuff:
 There’s a cool article about me in this week’s edition of the Washington City Paper, complete with this picture (which apparently makes my hair look quite long), and the compulsory discussion about the value of chick lit. I’m actually starting to wonder if there’s a class on this topic at journalism school, seeing how often reporters write articles about it. I was also surprised to learn that the phrase “killer unicorns” is inherently chick litty. Who knew? I always thought it was pretty gory (ba DUM ching!) Regardless, I’m pretty happy with the way the article turned out (and glad that I got to use Sophocles and Harlequin in the same sentence!)
And there are a few new reviews out of my books:
From Teen Book Reviewer, Jocelyn, on Secret Society Girl:
I wish I’d picked up SECRET SOCIETY GIRL sooner! Once I did, I was hooked. The world Diana Peterfreund creates in this novel is totally different from mine, and maybe a little far-fetched, but still completely real once you start reading. Her characters all step right off the page—even the most minor background characters are three-dimensional. Peterfreund really breathes life into her protagonist, though! Amy’s voice is witty and funny and perfectly suited to the character that the (rather brilliant) author creates.
I’ve been gushing about the characters so much this sounds like a character-driven book with no plot, but that would be the wrong impression. SECRET SOCIETY GIRL is nothing if not a suspenseful page-turner! There’s not a dull moment in this book. I couldn’t put it down! This smart, wickedly funny novel is a new favorite of mine.
From CanaryNoir, on Secret Society Girl:
The way Ms. Peterfreund works out that drama, and fills-in several of the principle supporting characters inside the society, makes for a great story. There is a large cast of characters, most of whom come from very privileged backgrounds in comparison with Amy’s own hard-working, self-made origins, and Ms. Peterfreund has a lot of fun with undercutting stereotypes by having Amy face up to her own acceptance of them. She also leaves a lot of threads open for future books (and this looks to be the first of some number of these books). While not quite as dark and dangerous as it implies itself to be, Secret Society Girl is fun and interesting and intriguing enough to pull the reader along. It also stands out as a book more focused on the main character and her new friends figuring themselves out and showing what they’re made of instead of tying up the end in a big romantic bow. This book is about Amy coming into her own as Amy; not Amy finding twu wuv to complete herself.
From The Yale Alumni Magazine, on Under the Rose:
Cross Dink Stover with Nancy Drew and Bridget Jones and you get Amy Haskel, the sarcastic senior at transparently disguised “Eli University” who briskly narrates this winning mystery. When Haskel gains entry to the elite secret society Rose & Grave, she finds that its stodgy alumni are still cold as a crypt on the subject of women being admitted. Then erudite and threatening anonymous e-mails begin to fly around the society-only server, and naturally, Haskel investigates. The mystery is twisty, but the real fun lies in Haskel’s tossed-off asides about Yale, oops, Eli traditions–from shopping period (during which undergrads “weren’t hunting for good bargains, but rather, for gut classes”) to the annual Halloween concert, when students wear costumes aimed at “inducing everyone around you to marvel at your brilliance and beg you to tell them what the hell you’re dressed as.”
I also found out in that article that Lynn Harris, author of Death by Chick Lit, is another daughter of Eli. I’ll definitely have to pick up her book.
Okay, and now, the important stuff:
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix movie might be the best HP film yet. LOVED it. Also, whoa, sexy! That was certainly a change from the book! Now I’m very looking forward to the final installment. I may or may not actually go to one of the release parties. If so, I may or may not go dressed as Tonks (I do have the pink wig, after all.)
 The Seventy Days of Sweat Challenge is back on, since the wedding extravaganza is over. I hope I can wrangle my broken body and brain into shape for this thing. Write write write!
And the bloggy stuff:
The fabulous Jo Leigh blogs inspiration. This woman has written over 40 books and she just keeps getting better. How cool is that?
The Buzz Girls tour Marley around RWA Nationals. They owe me a new keyboard after reading their posts.
Scott and Justine talk about how Justine has never even seen the inside of a box, let alone wanted to think there. Having gone first-reader rounds with Justine, I know how very valuable her input is.
And now I sleep. And take my medicine. And wonder why we haven’t progressed to the point where we can just upload our consciousnesses into some kind of invincible, impenetrable, can’t-get-sick bionic machine. Ugh. Would someone get on that, please?
Congratulations, guys!
I’ve just heard TWO people (one Larry King) ask Daniel Radcliffe if he thinks he’s “too old” to keep playing Harry Potter.
Um, is no one aware that the character is aging? Do they expect that he’s still playing an eleven year old? Radcliffe is currently 17 and he’s playing a 15 year old (Fifth movie). What’s the problem here? Alyson Hannigan was 24 playing a 17 year old on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No one gave her grief about that.
A caption contest, in honor of the groom (pictured).
Awwww… he’s all groweds up. I don’t think I brought enough tissues.
I’ll check in when I’m off the plane.
This may be my last post for a while. We’ll see how things pan out once I’m in California, where two people who are not me and Sailor Boy are getting married.
 Day 2 of the challenge (Monday) was a bit slow for me. I only got a couple of hundred words down, and I was doing a lot of revisions. So I’ll really have to kick it up today to keep on track. To wit: this post shall be short.
Justine Larbalestier and Scott Westerfeld are the current “writers in residence” at Inside a Dog this week, and are discussing writing, lucky numbers, each other, and the weird way Justine likes to talk (wait, they are making fun of Scott’s accent? Crazy Aussies!) The post on first drafts and rewriting was especially interesting to me right now because I find that my process (barring the Zero Draft) is very similar to Scott’s: I like to read what I’ve written the day before, fix it, and move forward. I tend to revise as I go. Scott said:
I write about a thousand new words a day. But I start each day by reviewing the previous three days’ work.
This has two effects. One, it means that I ease into my writing day, editing and rewriting those 3,000 old words before facing the deadly blank page. By the time I finish that I’ve got a head of steam up, I remember what’s going on in the story, and writing new words doesn’t seem impossible, like it did right after coffee.
It’s like getting a running start.
The second effect is that by the time my first drafts go to anyone else, I’ve been through every word at least four times (usually more) and across several days, when I’ve been in different moods and have had different tolerances for purple prose, bad similes, and fuzzy language.
This is usually me. Except not this book. No, for this book, I’m just biting the bullet and moving ahead, even though I’ve changed something and I know I’ll have to go back and fix it. It’s definitely a new challenge for me. But new challenges are fun, huh?
Or maybe this is my first “zero draft.”
Hey, check it out! Vicki Lane is doing a giveaway and what’s this? Why, it’s Under the Rose! Vicki is a friend of mine from my Tampa RWA chapter. Sigh. Yet another person I won’t be seeign at RWA this week. A bit weird not to go. It’s the first one I haven’t been to since I joined the organization.
And finally, I leave you with a little something care of Holly…
Four pages on Sunday. There. Sven’s off my back for now…
Stephanie Tyler’s post yesterday was very inspiring to me. I have so many writing friends who write under the most difficult of circumstances: family issues, health issues, time issues. There are a million reasons that pull us away from it, but if we really want it, we’ll do it. We’ll give up all kinds of things.
I’m reminded of Stephen King’s masterful speech at the National Book Foundation a few years back. No, not the part where he told the snobs to get over themselves and go read some Patrick O’Brian (though, man, I love that part so much). The part where he talks about how he and his family were living in a trailer and desperately needed $300 bucks, which would pay for ten weeks of groceries, but to get it, King would have to take on extra work as a debate coach and have less time to write, and his wife said no. Whatever it took, he needed to write.
A couple of months ago, I posted about what I think it takes to write full time, and some people chose to take me to task for that. To which I still blow a big, fat raspberry. (Actually, what I really want to write takes seven letters and a space.) I don’t know if they thought I was being sarcastic or what, but I assure you, I wasn’t. This is not an easy business. There’s no guarantee, and no security. And if you don’t think that takes major sacrifices, you’re dead wrong. You need to have a plan, you need to have a fallback plan, and you need to be willing to implement them. And whether that means picking up freelance articles or ghostwriting or technical work or a couple shifts a week at your local Starbucks or a full time job… what is it going to take? Does it mean you take the debate coach job and forget about sleeping so you can write? Or does it mean you pass on the job and live on ramen noodles so you can write? Because you gotta write. It’s the constant.
What’s it take? Writing on vacation? Skipping vacations? Re-fashioning your life so you can live on less money so you can quit that second job or do without the overtime? Or without the job altogether? Turning down the promotion so you’d have more time to write? Becoming a vegetarian because you can’t afford meat and health insurance? Quitting smoking because you realized it was the only thing holding back your budget from balancing as a freelancer? Losing your job because you have a writing commitment? Losing a relationship because of it? Waking up at four a.m. every morning? Pulling all-nighters once a week? Getting shingles?
I know writers who have done every single one of those. Some gladly, some reluctantly, some accidentally. And the thing that they have in common is that in every single case, they chose writing. Writing is the art; the writing life is all about pragmatism.
The flip side is, it’s easy to look at what other people do and feel guilty. I look at Steph and I’m thinking: I don’t have a kid who needs my time, let alone a special-needs kid who needs constant care; I don’t have chronic migraine; I don’t have this issue, I don’t have that issue. So why am I not producing as many books as she is? Why am I not writing MORE? Which is why it’s great that she wrote:
Don’t compare your output to anyone else’s – only compete with yourself because that’s what has to happen once you do get published. No one but you should be in your view. You will only slow yourself down if you worry about everyone else. If you want it, once you finally tell yourself, I want it, and nothing’s going to stop me, well, that’s something no one can take away from you.
It’s like when we were kids and were told that we needed to finish our dinner, because there were starving kids in the world. We need to write this much because there are writers in the world who don’t have this opportunity. But that’s not true. We need to write because we have this opportunity — whether it’s all day or thirty minutes at four a.m. We made it for ourselves and we have an obligation to ourselves to use it.
We can’t think about other writers here, because if we start thinking along that path, and then, lo — that opportunity gets taken away, how much easier will it be to just say, “Oh well.” Oh well, how can I write now? I used to have all day to write, but now I have a job/kid/other timesuck and I can’t. Or to say, I’d write if only I was in her situation? I’d write if I had all day.
I feel that temptation all the time. I feel the temptation to say, “Well, I had a busy day/week/month; I’ve been out of town, I had health issues; I have a wedding plan; my book just came out.” But I do know that’s bull. I know it because when SB comes home and says, “How many pages did you write today?” I feel obligated to come back with a nice, fat number. Trust that twisty feeling in your gut, Di.
Which is why I do like hearing about the the other writers. I do like hearing about how Nora Roberts says to put yourself in a box with just the story and close the lid, or how Alison Kent is scribbling notes outside her kids’ Girl Scout meetings or Gena Showalter is talking into a tape recorder everywhere she goes or Stephen King doesn’t get up from his desk chair until he has ten single spaced pages. But I’m not comparing myself to them; I’m inspired by them. Not who they are and what they have on their plate while still writing, but that they are writing. They chose writing. And I can do it, too. Everyday.
I have. I chose it when I left the town all my friends lived in to go work for a newspaper. I chose it when I spent money I didn’t have to go to my first RWA conference, staying with a friend in town because I couldn’t afford the hotel fees. I chose it when, day after day, I spent my budgeted “entertainment” money on computer time in internet cafes in Australia so I’d have my book typed in time for the Golden Hearts, or when I hiked for three hours into suburbia in Auckland to get my Alphasmart repaired in the only place in Oceania that could fix them, and when it broke for good, found out that a pen and paper worked just as well. We were staying in this place that gave us free plates of pasta with our tent spots, or, for three or four dollars extra, we could “upgrade” to chicken or burgers or etc. I chose to use my three dollars on computer time, and I ate pasta every night for a month. I chose writing in 2005, when I woke up every morning, wrote in a notebook on the Metro on the way to work, at lunch every day at a little table at Teaism in Dupont Circle, on the Metro on the way home, and then at a computer that evening while I was cooking dinner, and then started again the next day.
That’s the writer I am. I have these proofs, and more. I know how to choose writing. And so I do.
Off to sweat.
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