I really like writing books but there’s one part I hate. And it sneaks up on me every time.
After having several books published, you’d think I’d learn. But nope, there seems to be a big blank spot in my memory about writing a nonfiction book.
It’s an ugly, nasty, teeth-gnashing phase so no wonder I forget it. In fact, the only time I think about it, is when I’m right in the middle of it. Which is where I am right now.
I refer to it as the @#$*! stage of writing a book. Some folks call it the first draft.
No, this isn’t me. But this is how I often feel when I’m in the @#&%! stage of writing a book.
This is where I have to take all my research and put it into some sort of cohesive order. That means deciding what goes in what chapter – and worst of all – deciding what’s included and what gets left out.
I know from past experience that intriguing facts and fascinating anecdotes will be cut due to the constraints of space and in the interests of flow. I can deal with that. It’s just all the decisions I need to make right now. Hours are spent staring at the computer screen, shifting text here and there and muttering away. By the end of the day I swear my brain is sweating.
Sometimes I think of this stage of a book like going for a long walk in a forest. There are many trails to take, each offering different experiences, some more exciting or challenging than others.
On rough days I liken it to climbing a rock face. Concentrating and knowing where to put my feet and hands (or facts and anecdotes) is critical. At times the top of the mountain seems impossibly far away.
Once in a while I wonder why the heck I’m doing this. But a glance down tells me I’m closer to the top than the bottom. And I know when I reach the summit, I’ll forget all about the @#$*! stage of writing a book again.
So I keep climbing. Writing my book one chapter, one paragraph, one word at a time.
James Lee Burke. Photo by Robert ClarkThe rewards of being a successful writer are obvious. Completing an article, short story or book brings a huge sense of personal satisfaction. And seeing your work in print creates its own adrenaline rush.
Then there’s the fame factor, no less enjoyable even if it is just the “big fish in a small pond” variety. And, of course, there’s the possibility of financial gain.
But have you ever thought about what it takes to be a successful writer? A certain amount of writing skill is necessary and even more important is a good story idea.
However, when you get right down to it, I suspect one of the most critical element of success is persistence…and a thick skin.
That’s right, the old saying, “Writing is 99 per cent perspiration and 1 per cent inspiration,” is really true.
And even if you’re a disciplined, dedicated writer, you need a system for submitting your work and dealing with rejection.
Award-winning author James Lee Burke is one of my favourite writers. As well as telling a good story, he creates a vivid sense of the landscape and the people that inhabit it. And his characters possess a depth and complexity not soon forgotten.
Burke, now 75, had his first short story published in a college magazine when he was in his 20s. By the time he was 34, he was the author of three successful novels.
Then came a long, dry patch. Burke didn’t stop writing; he just couldn’t get published.
So he developed a method for dealing with his growing stack of rejections. When a short story was returned, he gave himself 36 hours to get it back in circulation. He’s used that procedure for 45 years. “If you keep your story at home, you’re ensured to lose,” he wrote in a 2002New York Times article.
Burke follows the same philosophy when it comes to books. His fourth novel, The Lost Get Back Boogie, was published in 1986.
After it had been rejected 110 times.
James Lee Burke’s fourth novel.“I’d published three novels in New York then went 13 years without a hardback publication,” Burke wrote. “That many rejections is supposedly some kind of record in the industry.”
Not long after it was published, The Lost Get Back Boogie was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. Since then Burke’s had an additional 26 novels published.
So now, whenever something I’ve written gets rejected I tell myself to “Burke it.” Just turn it around and get it back out there. Because, hey…you never know.
It’d be stretching it to say a plate of scrambled eggs launched my writing career. But there is one breakfast I’ll always remember.
It was 1986, my year to take risks. I quit my job and told myself it was now or never if I was going to be a writer. But I had no idea how to make that happen.
Then I saw an ad for a writer’s festival at Strathcona Park Lodge. I signed up hoping that being around real writers would somehow nudge me in the right direction.
At Strathcona I met all sorts of people involved in the BC book industry. Anne Cameron, Hilary Stewart, George Bowering, Christie Harris, Bill Valgardson and Susan Musgrave were some of the authors present. Publishers Howard and Mary White of Harbour Publishing were there as well. I was more than a bit awe-struck.
Strathcona Park Lodge is known for its ample and delicious cuisine, all served buffet style with folks sitting together at long tables. On the first morning of the event I sat down with my breakfast and a few moments later one of the “big names” of the festival took the chair across from me.
It was Jack Hodgins, author of The Resurrection of Joseph Bourne, The Invention of theWorld and Spit Delaney’s Island.
I remember his head of curly brown hair, the sparkling eyes and a friendly-looking smile. I even remember the clothes he was wearing – a white safari-style jacket and pants.
But I mostly remember being overwhelmed by an acute attack of shyness. What could I possibly say to this award-winning writer?
And then, as I bashfully fumbled with my fork, Jack broke the ice. “Where’d you get that?” he asked indicating my plate of food. And so began a casual conversation that immediately put me at ease.
In his novels Jack Hodgins portrays a unique and affectionate vision of the Vancouver Island landscape and the characters that inhabit it.
I didn’t see Jack often but we kept in touch over the years. We discovered that Strathcona was a turning point for both of us. I achieved my dream of becoming a published author; Jack realized he could teach writing outside a classroom.
This July Jack, who grew up in nearby Merville, visited Courtenay where he was inducted into the Comox Valley Walk of Achievement. This award is presented to former residents who have excelled in their field of endeavour and who inspire Comox Valley youth to believe in themselves and pursue their dreams.
Over his writing career, Jack has received many prestigious awards including the Order of Canada. But I think the recognition by his hometown community meant something special to him.
I know it meant a lot to those in the audience. The trajectory of Jack’s kindness and mentoring seems to stretch into infinity.
Although I’ve never taken a workshop with him, Jack has influenced my writing in many ways. His work, of course, is a stellar example of quality craftsmanship. But even more important has been his consistent encouragement and interest.
Sitting next to me in the Sid Williams Theatre was Susan Ketchen, author of Born ThatWay and Made That Way. She studied creative writing with Jack when she was in grade 12. “I still have some of the stories he marked,” she said. “They really weren’t very good but he always found something positive to say.”
Harold Macy, author of The Four Storey Forest, told me he’s exceedingly grateful for Jack’s support and guidance while putting the final touches on his book.
A plaque honouring Jack’s acheivements was placed in front of the Laughing Oyster Bookstore in downtown Courtenay.
During the ceremony Harold read some comments by Matt Rader, author of A DoctorPedalled Her Bike Over the River Arno and other works. “Jack Hodgins and Jack’s literary world are for a young writer from the Comox Valley something like what Faulkner and his world are for writers of the American south…He has a presence in this valley that guides our imaginations. And that is a lot like love.”
I think of the more than 15 novels Jack has written as a vast house with many levels and rooms. Each time a person opens one of Jack’s books, they enter one of those rooms. They’re decorated and furnished in a similar style but each possesses a unique view of the Vancouver Island landscape and is inhabited by the quirky characters that call this area home.
How lucky we are that Jack keeps adding onto his house, reinventing the stories he heard as a child into something that we can all treasure. And how lucky are those who have benefited from his gentle encouragement.
So here I was — proud as a new parent — with a finished manuscript in a tidy stack on my desk. Virginal white paper, appropriate font, neat margins, properly paginated and oh so vulnerable.
But now I faced that big jump from personal writing to potential exposure to the whole wide world. And, like many a new parent, I wondered how this baby of mine would ever walk on its own.
To take that first step the old school method says to look for publishers who specialize in your particular genre — fiction, poetry, memoir or essay — and write a letter of inquiry hoping that one of them will be interested and request a sample chapter or two which may then lead to a contract. Ah, hope, the writers favourite drug.
When I was through the second draft of The Four Storey Forest I did just that — found publishers who promoted West Coast and Vancouver Island writers. I sent out letters of inquiry and anxiously walked to the mailbox every day in anticipation. Out of the ten letters I wrote, I got not one response.
Refusing to be discouraged, I carried on re-writing, searching for a publisher and following suggestions from published authors.
Simultaneously, I began exploring the world of self-publishing. I was leery of this due to the stigma associated with the term “vanity press” and the pure drivel it often spawns. I thought if my writing made it through the scrutiny of a publisher, it would surely be better. I learned there are editorial contributions and there is publishing and while I thought the two were inextricable, they are not!
Nearing what I thought was a completed book, I sought out freelance editors. You get what you pay for so I’d advise anyone taking this route to shop around and check references thoroughly. My first “editor” seemed a little too interested in signing me up for production services as he heaped unearned praise on my raw and truly un-publishable work.
At the same time, I looked into self-publishing. Two sources of good information were the Vancouver Desktop Publishing Centre and Printorium Bookworks. The first is connected with the wonderful magazine Geist, which is a great read in itself. The second is a print shop that has an excellent how-to guide for self-publishing. However, I was not yet convinced.
In self-publishing, the author retains full responsibility for and control of content, cover design, and distribution/promotion. This obviously means a lot more work. It is an odd paradox; writing is a solitary anti-social act, yet merchandising the finished self-published work requires one to stand up and become a shameless hustler. Some can do this, others cannot.
Another factor is that many literary contests do not accept self-published books simply because of my original fear — so much dross on paper. Nor are self-published works eligible for the most of the few grants available.
So the choice is: sell your soul to a publishing house and in return for the pittance earned, gain professional editorial support and wider publicity, sales and distribution but relinquish a certain amount of income and control; or buy what proofreading and critiquing you need and opt for self-publishing, accepting the joys and sorrows it may bring.
There are many options for publishing a book these days.
For The Four Storey Forest I was fortunate enough to discover a third way. Through a network of other writers I found a Comox Valley “mom and pop” publishing company who had put out a few books of scholarly note and who were interested in branching out to niche markets with new writers.
So Poplar Publishing did the layout, final proofing, some editing and worked with the printer. The real nuts and bolts stuff. Collectively we created the cover design. Promotion and publicity are my responsibility as is shipping. My publisher has a web page with a PayPal service which means my book has an e‑life. My book baby has taken its first steps out into the world.
I recently started working on a novel, breathing life into the second draft of a manuscript that has been collecting dust for longer than I care to admit. However, it is still a good story and, when finished, I’ll go back to Poplar Publishing and hope they’ll take it on. There’s that word again. Hope.
On rough days I liken it to climbing a rock face. Concentrating and knowing where to put my feet and hands (or facts and anecdotes) is critical. At times the top of the mountain seems impossibly far away.
