IWSG Wednesday: The Waiting Game

It's the first Wednesday of February, which means it's once again time for Insecure Writer's Support Group! Because so much of writing is done alone in your head, it can sometimes feel a little lonely (well, aside from all the imaginary characters tromping through your head). I'm grateful for the richly supportive writing community, which reminds me I'm not alone in my madness!

That said, the name of this month's writing insecurity is waiting. It seems like a lot of writing also involves waiting: waiting for your CPs or beta readers to get back to you, waiting for turnaround from the editor, waiting on agent feedback, waiting for an editor to fall in love with your book. For someone like me with a few OCD tendencies, waiting can be extremely hard. I don't like surprises; I like knowing what's coming next--and sometimes that just isn't possible with writing, particularly with the traditional publishing route I've chosen.

The good thing is, I do have control over my favorite part--and that's the writing itself. Since I spent most of November in a revision and querying frenzy, I didn't do NaNoWriMo in November. So some writer friends and I tried a modified version of JaNoWriMo. I set myself a modest goal of 30K by the end of the month--and I just passed 35K in a new manuscript! It's still quite a drafty mess, but it's reminding me of the pleasure I get exploring a new world and new characters, and it gives me something to invest my energy in while I wait.

IWSG Wednesday: On the Brink

Since the IWSG moderators have asked us to introduce ourselves, here's a little about me: I grew up in Montana and Utah, and after a stint in Pennsylvania, I'm back in southern Utah with my family. I teach English at a local university (my specialization is nineteenth-century women's rhetoric, though I mostly teach composition), and in my spare time I write, read, dream, walk, and generally avoid housework. My husband and I have three kids, ranging from 2-9. I have a pretty good life!














I missed last month's post for a fairly good reason: I was in the middle of trying to decide which offer of representation to accept, and pretty much everything that wasn't agent or family or work related got shunted completely out of my head.

Now, standing at the edge of a new year, I'm both elated and terrified. I decided a long time ago I wanted to do traditional publishing, but one of the downsides is the sometimes lack of control over things. My agent currently has my revised MS and is putting together a submission list--sometime in the next week or so I should be on submission for the first time.

And I have no idea what will happen.

For someone like me, who's a planner and doesn't really like surprises, this kind of not-knowing can be horrifying. But I'm trying to see it less as walking blind and more as an adventure. Anything could happen.

Hopefully "anything" will be something good--a book contract at some point this year. But if not, I've got a shiny new MS that I'm excited about.

And really, I do this for the writing.

Here's to a New Year, new writing goals, and new successes (and profitable failures) for all of us!

IWSG: On Putting Yourself out there

The last month or so has been a real exercise in insecurity for me.

In the five weeks, I've entered five online contests, some with positive outcomes, some with virtual crickets. The waiting between entering and judging was grueling (though I'm told the waiting only gets worse the closer you get to publication).

Anyone who subbed for Pitch Wars (or who knows someone who subbed for Pitch Wars) gets this.



But the experience has overall been a positive one. I got feedback on my query and my opening pages, learning what worked and what didn't. I met other writers: including lots of very talented writers who remind me that I need to put everything I can into my writing in order to compete at that level. And who also remind me that the writing community is a pretty cool place to hang out.

Hitting send on that first submission is hard. I know submitting to agents is hard, but somehow putting things out in the open is even harder. (At least with agents, if I'm rejected, no one has to know besides me--this insecurity kept me out of the Write on Con forums. Maybe next year I'll be braver).

But I'm really glad that I put myself out there. I'm more confident in my story, knowing that other people loved it besides me and my critique group (who are wonderful, but they also like me . . . ). More importantly, I'm more confident in me. Because I did hard things and survived.

I kept writing (well, rewriting if I'm going to be scrupulously honest).

And I got lucky: I made it into Pitch Wars and get to spend the next 6 weeks polishing my MS until it's blindingly beautiful. (I hope!)

Then I'll get to put myself out there.

Again.

Dancing Alone at the Debutante Ball (IWSG)

 (My IWSG post is late in the day--I blame kids and blogger (which is still fighting me on the format)--but it's here!)
One of the great things about being in a long-term partnership is not having to date.
Sure, you miss out on the sizzling excitement of new possibilities (nothing quite like the prospect of  first kiss), but I'll trade the uncertainty and constant weighing of expectations for stability any day.
I was never much good at dating anyway. I'm not conventionally pretty, I'm introverted, I analyze too much, and the consciousness that I was being evaluated made me more than usually awkward.
I thought when I got married I'd left those sensations behind.
Last Friday, I sent out a new batch of queries (it's been over  year since I queried--and shelved--a middle grade novel). And suddenly, I'm awash with all those feelings.
This stage of querying--where I haven't heard anything yet (well, one request, but no rejections)--is kind of awesome. Anything is possible. Of course, reality will set in soon enough.
Since I'm querying a historical fantasy novel, my mind is bit fixed on historical comparisons. In nineteenth-century England, a young woman of a certain class was prepped for marriage her entire life. A debutante ball held in her honor announced her entrance to society--and her marital eligibility. (I don't think it's an accident that one's first novel is similarly called a debut).









This is currently me: wearing my prettiest dress (a nice shiny query letter), standing on the fringes of a society I hope to join, waiting for interested partners to ask me to dance (see the manuscript), in the hopes of a long-term partnership.
But the waiting is hard. The sense of powerlessness is hard (one does as much as one can to dress to flatter one's strengths, to reevaluate what isn't working), but there is only so much I can do if I want to traditionally publish--which I do.
It's good thing I love dancing (and writing). I may be waiting for a response, but I don't have to wait for a partner to dance my own waltz.
Anyone else in the query trenches feel like they're dancing alone at a debutante ball?