Rushed or crushed? The pressure’s on. Maybe you set a two-book-per-year goal, maybe your agent did, maybe agreeing to overlapping commitments with three different publishers seemed like a great idea at the time…but writing even one book a year can be tough enough with a zillion other claims on your time. Those adorable children want sandwiches, that horny husband wants you, the boss would like to know where the freaking report on Widgetinator sales is, and your editor wants revisions done yesterday. Feel like you’re losing your mind?
You are.
Writing at its best has more in common with slow, fermentative processes like winemaking or breadbaking or peaceful contemplation of the world, like the hero of Ferdinand. He is one of my all-time favorite literary characters, for his radiant serenity and the lovely description of “his mother, who was a cow…” Such elegant brevity takes time.
So, okay, the world is what it is, and we can’t sit around in a meadow and smell the flowers. Busy writers are a lot more likely to sit around echoing, sixteen-story atriums at conferences, talk shop, and smell hotel carpets. Which smell bad, very bad, like cigarette butts and shoe goo. Give me a goddamned meadow. (That’s from a new book, Ferdinand in New York. Okay, just kidding.)
It amazes me how writers nearly always manage to do it all—hold down demanding jobs, raise young (or not—the childfree are no less busy), get advanced degrees, run businesses, and, tra la, whip up whole new worlds and populate them in their spare time. If you’re writing romance and adventure and paranormals, maybe the populating part is a little easier, given all the heaving and throbbing and crashing around and taking chances. Disillusionment and its evil twin, ironic detachment, so often found in books deemed literary, don’t seem to have the same energizing effect on prose and plot lines. Anyway, you find a safe place to go crazy and you do, producing 300 pages or so of great stuff. Then you get that sucker in on deadline, fluff up the website, return e-mails, and…lie down? I don’t think so.
How do you do it? Shout out. Or whimper. This editor would like to know.
Hilary Sares! *bow*
I think you manage because you want it so bad. You NEED to write. Need it so badly you can forego a few hours of sleep, maybe have a quick lunch rather than a long one, and plan your day in a way you WILL get that time you need to write. Maybe horny hubby will be content with a quickie? Then again maybe not.
Good morning, Hilary! (Waving at you from Seattle!)
I’m not sure how we deal with all the craziness of writing. I just know that I’ve never found anything else that has made me happier. I love spending time with those folks who magically appear in my head and demand that their stories be told. Writers seemed to be an odd mix of the wildly creative and yet terribly driven. I just know that I’ve met more people who think like I do (God help them!) and those who appreciate the way we think since I started writing twenty years ago.
Take care,
Pat
Hey Hilary, Super to see you here!
As for getting it all done, hey, it’s a job, right? My previous jobs were as a construction coordinator (try telling the owner of a house or a huge office building that it’s not going to be ready because you weren’t in the mood to work), journalism (again, imagine a newspaper not showing up some day because the reporters were out of sorts or too busy to write) and advertising (where clients have paid big bucks to make sure their ad gets done in time for their big promotion.)
So, for me, a bad day writing is better than a good day doing all those other jobs. Is it sometimes hard? Sure, but as Tom Hanks said in A League of their Own, it’s supposed to be hard. That’s what makes it great. (Also, if it was easier and everyone could do it, all those readers would simply make up their own stories and they wouldn’t need me!)
Fortunately, unlike baseball, crying is occasionally allowed in writing. I’ve been fortunate to have been able to earn a living telling my stories for 25 years (and so far 99 books), and it’s sure a lot more fun spending my days writing about people falling in love, or even killing people in my RS than singing the praises of Maytag washers and Big O tires.
Had to smile the whole way through your blog. I’m one of those insane writers who has to have a million things going on or I can’t keep the adrenaline pumping to produce a decent page. Since I quit my day job to write full-time, that means I have to fill my time with more projects. I try to give myself plenty of fermentation-time for a story before I plow into it, so I’m working on a “system.” Balls-to-the-walls writing on one project, brain-storming on another. When I get “blocked” on the main project, I select a short story idea, ideally in another sub-genre to cleanse my palate, then off I go again. So far, so good. I really need to learn to plan some down-time though. Fatigue sneaks up on me at the most inopportune times!
OK, we can shut this down. “You manage because you want it so bad.” Says it all!
Aha!
So the therapeutic aspect is important. My World. My People. My Hero. And Oh Yeah That Chick That Gets To Sleep With Him Because He Is Imaginary And I Can’t. Sigh. Better give her a few words. Like… Yes. Now. More.
OK, anyone ever have a relative all flattered or steamed because they thought some character was them?
Hilary,
I loved what you said about taking time to allow the story to ferment like a good wine, I agree some stories take time, many do in fact. Then there are those stories and characters that clamor at you, whining non-stop for you to tell their tale, and for those stories, the writing flows, the vibe is strong– nice and smooth, like the hot chocolate did on the graham cracker I just wolfed down.
Writing is my passion, as you know. I love to write stories of love, life and ‘lationships; of two people finding each other and discovering true lurve–to me, it is right up there with good lovin’ from my man. Hmmm. Okay, so the lovin’ with my man tops writing, but you know what I mean.
I know that for some authors, the stress of trying to get all those projects in, battling deadlines while doing edits and taking care of house and home has become the norm. Not so for me. Recently, I’ve decided to slow my roll a bit. Enjoy the creative process, enjoy the ride, and most importantly, enjoy my man and my precious daughter. In the end, it makes for a calmer and more enjoyable life.
…And it doesn’t hurt that I have an editor who feels my flow and allows me to do that
KKT
Hello, everybody, poking my head up. Definitely feeling both rushed and crushed, since I’m trying to write a book and gestate a baby at the same time! Yikes! Talk about a deadline.
Hilary, you asked if we’d ever had a relative get steamed because they thought a character was them? YES! My beloved cousin once read one of my PG books, way back, I think it was ISN’T IT ROMANTIC, in which the hero remembers the day his father left his mother and the conversation the father had with his son before he walked out the door, and my cousin told me, um, hey . . . that was me. You wrote what happened to me in your book. Word for word. Ver-fricking-batim.
I was flabbergasted. I did not ever remember him telling me that conversation. If I had, I would never have presumed to write it down in fiction. Fortunately, my cousin was more touched at his life being immortalized in a romance novel than he was angry at his confidence being violated. In fact, he saw it as a sign of affection. Thank GOD. I still am baffled at that.
Hugs to all, Shannon
Hi Hilary!
Like so many authors I began writing more as a hobby than anything else. Then one day I realized I’d gone from a hobby to a job and now I have to treat it like one. Although I don’t work 8 to 5 any longer, I still have an obligation to my boss … me! Also, like being in the formal workforce, if I blow off writing for a couple of days, I have to make it up, thus 24/7 days. I’m a procrastinator by nature, keep too many irons in the fire, so many times I kick myself in the butt for lost opportunities (those three 20 minute sessions that strung together make a hour). I definitely believe the key is how bad do you want it! It’s kinda like deciding to have a baby. It’s sure fun to get “that way” but a ton of work to get “it” raised but you can sure be proud of the finished product. Set short term and long term goals and you can make it happen!
So far, I have no issues with relatives being flattered or steamed, but it did do me a lot of good to use the first name of a boss I detested in a book … I made him into an interior decorator with questionable sexuality…made me feel better. Hugs from Texas, Phyliss
“Rushed or crushed?”
“Feel like you’re losing your mind?”
Oh, Hilary, you can’t possibly be writing about me, can you? You know, the author who never emails you or calls to tell you she’s completely and utterly freaked out. Not this calm, centered, zen like woman who can simultaneously write a scorchingly hot romance, breast feed her baby, and help her 2 year old build a train track, all while maintaining a perfectly even, calm tone of voice?
The one who, right now, is definitely NOT twisting her mind into knots trying to come up with appropriately twisted s*** to make her book a little less “generic.”
But thanks, Joann, for reminding me to be thankful I’m not staring at a cube wall
Oh Shannon, don’t worry. It gets sooooo much easier once the baby is out. (snort)And two kids? a total breeze because you already know what you’re doing (double snort)
Hmm. They don’t have an editor emoticon. It would have to have spiked hair from running fingers and pencils in it, taped glasses askew on nose, and red eyes from not having fun. On that subject: saw on the bldg elevator TV that spacewalks have been canceled until the source of a “smokelike smell” in one of the spacesuits can be found. The NASA noses must be on it. Had to laugh. Cherchez le stoner, people.
Other news, especially for Phyliss: Bergdorf’s Xmas windows are almost done, better than last year’s, and last year’s were amazing. Right now they are half gorgeous whimsy and half jeans-clad window-dresser dusty butts–Bergdorf’s doesn’t bother with the excuses or drawn shades.
Jami, still working on zingy-zangy color-cued revision suggestions for you.
For all: the Christmas tree has arrived in Rockefeller Center, surrounded by scaffolding at the moment. Practically everything in NY is surrounded by scaffolding. I too would like to be surrounded by scaffolding and emerge steamcleaned, sparkling, and ready for the holidays. Ha ha. Never am.
Damp and cool and gray in NY. Broadway stagehands are on strike, a lot of tourists are doing recreational shopping instead. They seem happy enough and God knows they’re politer than a lot of NYers.
But it is still my home town and I am proud of it. December in NY is faboo. I know, I know, it’s November.
Forgot to say hi to Kim! Slow roll, sounds good. Sounds like a cake, in fact. Hey, am going out to buy Jami Oliver’s new cookbook. He is soooo cute and I like the way he throws food around.
Hi Hilary! Love your topic because it’s one that I can relate to in a lot of ways. Sure, there’s so much pressure to produce a good story and make my deadline, but it’s the pressure that keeps driving me to reach higher and further. The rewards I reap in the end make every minute in front of my computer very worthwhile. Writers pour out their hearts and souls and think they have nothing more to give, but then the words just keep coming. It’s a give and take situation. Often it seems that the getting back portion is much bigger than the giving and that makes this job the best in the whole world. I can’t imagine ever not wanting to write. The characters in my head won’t let me stop.
And when I finish a manuscript and turn it in, I do a little dance all around the house and tell everyone who’ll listen and some who won’t. Then, I start to work on something new. No laying around and doing nothing. I have to create!
A big hello from another Texas author!
Have a great day.
Hilary, if Bergdorf’s Christmas windows are even half as pretty as they were last year, they must be fabulous! Last December, I saw my first live model as we walked down 5th Avenue and man he didn’t have any more clothes on than the nude manniquins you’re talkin’ about! WOW for NYC and Christmas!
Anybody checking in late or from another time zone will get an answer from me tomorrow. Not fair otherwise. Long, long ago, yours truly was a bespectacled, annoying little stickler for fairness because (a) I couldn’t see the ball, let alone the thick white lines painted on the playground and (b) I was a knobby-kneed runt.
Anyway, for today, I’m done. I pretty much got an answer to my question and it touched me. You do it because your heart’s in it. Big awwww. Love ya.
OK, one last post for Linda B. We have to, absolutely have to, take over a ballroom at the next RWA, turn up the music, and everybody do their individual, nobody’s-watching, scare-the-dog, I-am-happy dance!
Know what you’re saying with this blog, girlfriend. There are days when I feel like I am pulling my hair out with job and family–and trying to be inspired enough to write something original and fresh without rehasing “been there-done that” plots. And, oh, yeah, sometimes the months tick away without a single word written and suddenly there’s that freaking deadline starting you in the face (not to mention the contract you signed in your filing cabinet). That’s when the panic mode sits in, you pull out the coffee and get really inspired for a few weeks of 24/7 applying butt to chair.
Fortunately, I have a super-duper editor who lets me bother her by email 50 times a week, send in ten thousand synopsis versions for a simple novella and–most importantly–lets me write the story that finally forms with few boundaries to hold back my imagination. I feel so blessed to be doing what I love!
And as for the losing your mind part. Well, lost mine years ago. If anyone wants to fork over a brain, please send it my way, LOL.
Hugs to you. And can’t wait to see the piccies from Bergdorfs!
I read all through these comments and the blog post.
Hilary, you could write a book if you really wanted to.
Rushed and crushed? Oy…that’s my life. LOL But then its everyone’s life that I know. But a writer’s life has to be full, or wouldn’t her stories be flat? Seriously, I know I need to feed my creativity, or it’ll get stale. And the only way I know to do that is to *live*. Life is messy, but if it wasn’t, my stories would probably be uncomplicated and wouldn’t that make them boring? You have to feel in order to write emotion, I think. At least I do. That means experiencing both stress and peace. Pain and joy. Frustration and resolution. Not always pleasant, but definitely necessary. For me, it’s not so much *how* I juggle five teens, a demanding mother who could make a psychopath feel guilty (and considering they don’t have a guilt module that just shows how talented she is), and everyone and everything else. It is the fact that if I *wasn’t* juggling all of that, my writing would not be as rich, my characters not as deep, my need to create not as intense.
As for angry family members who recognize themselves? Not yet, but man…desperate? A little. There are a couple who *want* me to incorporate them into my writing. Not to be cranky, but um…no chance. Dh makes fabulous inspiration for my heroes, but the ones who think *they* should be? Not likely. Maybe if *they* read my stories like the rest of my family does, they’d know it too.
If you saw my house, you wouldn’t ask! How do we do it? Sometimes I don’t think I do. Otherwise, you’d have my angel books! Seriously, passion (writing not writhing) won’t accept no for an answer.
Thanks for putting this madness into words and perspective.
Merry Christmas to all!
How do I keep everything going with the writing? I don’t sweat the small stuff, like housework. Linda can tell you I’m not a compulsive cleaner.
My kid is 35 and married and I have an EX. I started tons of stories years ago and finally had to set goals and select stories to complete and send out. My characters wrestled with each other and with me for their turns. It was not a pretty sight. Since then I’ve completed several older novels and started others which I actually finished. My friends are writers so I know where to go to whine or get a kick in my butt.
It’s actually threatening to become winter in Georgia.
You write like a writer, must be the company you keep.