Category: The Writing Life

  • Author’s Serenity Prayer

    Well, I don’t exactly have a prayer. Other than, “Please God, let me finish this re-write by the deadline.” I’d really like to reflect on the things in my writing life that I can and can’t control. Be forewarned–this is a bit of a rant (the complaining kind, not the English Country Dance kind).

    First, the “cans,” using TANKBORN as an example. I can come up with a nearly infinite number of ideas (note 1–I have plenty of my own ideas and thank you, but I don’t need yours). I can settle on one idea and expand it into a compelling, full-fledged story like TANKBORN (note 2–this, and not ideas, is the hard part).  I can create what I hope are appealing characters. I can write and re-write the resulting book into something I think is so wonderful my agent will be ecstatic and any editor in her right mind would be crazy not to buy. I can submit to my agent. And wait. And re-write based on her suggestions. And wait.

    Once the waiting is finally over and we sell the book as I did with TANKBORN, I can work hard on the re-writes requested by the editor who bought the book. I can swallow my pride when my editor notes some bone-headed or confusing element in my manuscript, and fix said problems without whining.

    Once I’ve polished TANKBORN to my editor’s satisfaction (said satisfaction is a “can’t control,” btw), the book is out of my hands in its journey to publication. What I can do next is start on another book. Meanwhile, I can count the days until publication.

    Finally, once TANKBORN is on the shelves, I can tell everyone I know. I can go to booksignings and conferences where I’ll talk up the book with an enthusiastic rapture usually reserved for those in houses of worship. I can e-mail everyone in my fan database, I can post blogs about it, I can lurk in the young adult sections of bookstores at Christmas and Hanukkah and shamelessly beg people to buy TANKBORN.

    The above is what I have control over. The things I can do.

    Now, what I can’t. I can’t guarantee that my agent will indeed love everything I’ve written. I can’t force an editor to buy it. If an editor does buy it, I can’t dictate what the cover will look like. For my covers on previous books, I’ve had everything from zero input to making cover art suggestions that have largely been ignored (no mutant heroines, though). For TANKBORN, I’ve been lucky enough to see the initial cover concepts, but my editor and not me has the final say.

    I also can’t be sure that the book will be perfectly typo-free. A million pairs of eyes can look at that sucker and still miss a misspelled word or misplaced punctuation mark somewhere. Sorry, we tried our best. And once the book is printed, I can’t go back and fix it. Please don’t e-mail me to let me know that you found “there” instead of “their” on page 233. It’s out of my hands.

    And once my book is published, I can’t make readers buy it. Ah, that it were so. If I could, I’d probably hypnotize every reader in the U.S. and beyond to buy multiple copies of TANKBORN when it comes out. But I can’t, nor can I put something into the water supply or wave a magic wand to start a buying frenzy. The former would be illegal and the latter would be impossible in a non-magical world such as Earth.

    I also can’t force people who have read my book to like my book. I can’t insist a reviewer give me a sterling review. There are huge bestsellers that many people loved that I thought were drek. Everyone has different tastes in what they enjoy.

    Sometimes I despair that the “cans” are too hard and the “can’ts” are too frustrating. But if I wanted easy, I’d have never become an author.

    How about you? Is there something in your professional life that everyone assumes you can do, but you can’t? Feel free to comment.

  • The Glamorous Life of an Author…Heh

    I roll out of bed at 10am and eat a few bonbons. My special assistant dresses me in my Gucci (I’m old school) and arranges my coiffure, then brings me a few delicacies for breakfast. After I’ve finished my pot of Kopi Luwak coffee, I stroll into my office and wait for inspiration. If inspiration hasn’t arrived by, say, 2pm, I go back to bed.

    Well, I kind of wish I could do it that way (although, what the heck is a bonbon anyway?). In reality, I have to be up by 7:30am so I can feed my diabetic cat and give him his insulin injection. I drag on a pair of ratty jeans and a T-shirt, stuff my feet into slippers and toddle downstairs. I do often spend a little too much time reading the paper during breakfast (usually a bowl of bran flakes mixed with Honey Nut Cheerios), but I’m generally at my desk by 9am. I don’t wait around for inspiration because that brat sleeps later than I do. I have to gut it out through whatever scene I’m currently working on by sheer sweat and perseverance until that prissy Miss Inpira shows up.

    No glitzy coast-to-coast book tours (at least not yet), although I did attend an Society of Childrens Book Writers & Illustrators conference last month. Got a deluxe buffet breakfast at the Best Western (complete with stale scones), some kick-ass BBQ, and a killer Thai dinner with my editor:

    My editor, Stacy Whitman, and I pose in the Best Western lobby just before the triffid behind me drags me off. Barely escaped. Pretty harrowing.

    I’m sure there are authors living actually glamorous lives. In fact I know one of them personally. But although he lives in a pretty swanky house and does those book tours, he works his butt off when it comes to writing the books that his fans love. He’s not twiddling his thumbs in expectation that Mr. Inspiro will show up any minute and whisper into his ear every word of the scene he has to write.

    Alas. Would that it were so.

    But if anyone wants to send me a box of bonbons, my P.O. Box is on my website: www.karensandler.net.