Writing a book can be a lot of fun but it also requires a lot of hard work and discipline. And each author has their favorite aspect of the task, which may shift over time.
I’ve usually thought about a topic for a long time before making a commitment to write 60,000+ words about it. So, that generally means I have a good idea of how the beginning and end will be shaped.
These sections are exciting and fun to develop. I also really like interviewing people, tapping into their expertise and learning about their experiences and perspectives.
But then there’s the muddled middle, which seems to quickly turn into a bog of ennui that is impossible to escape. I have clear point A and C but where oh where is the all-important point B to join them in a cohesive manner? This is my least favorite part of writing a book. Inevitably, there are many false starts, gnashing of teeth and muttering or worse before this section comes together.
And then there’s the editing. My favorite part of writing!
Why? Because I have a framework to build on, adding, deleting, refining and moving text as needed. It is creative, fun, and a relief to finally be on semi-solid ground.
My editing takes place in a variety of ways. I usually begin reviewing the text on my computer, then shift to hard copy as the eye picks up different glitches in different mediums. Reading the story aloud is another way to make sure every sentence is up to par and creates a cohesive, dynamic whole.
I will review the manuscript many times, hopefully making fewer changes as I progress. When I think the story is as good as I can possibly make it, I send it to my publisher.
Then things get even better as the publisher assigns one or more editors to go over the manuscript with me. People ask if I get upset when someone suggests changing, adding to or even deleting parts of something I’ve worked on for years.
The answer is a resounding no! By this time, I’m so immersed in the story, I can no longer tell what its strengths and weaknesses are. I need a professional to look at the material with fresh eyes. This is a vital component of a good book, so if I was going to self-publish, I would hire an editor.
Wanting to write a book is one thing. Making the commitment is another. Especially if it’s your first book.
Three questions I always ask myself are: Is my interest in the topic compelling enough to dedicate a significant amount of time to it? Will the story intrigue an agent and/or publisher? Will anyone besides my mother buy the book?
I was willing to invest time to my first book – Sointula IslandUtopia — but wasn’t sure about the agent, publisher and readers. Well, I thought my siblings would probably buy books, as well as my mom, so I had four potential sales. I decided to go for it.
Strangely enough, the seeds for that first book were planted in the Sointula Credit Union.
I lived in Sointula, BC for thirteen years (1975−1988) and for ten of those years, I was the only fulltime employe at the credit union. At that time, it consisted of one room upstairs in the Sointula Co-op.
Having grown up in an urban environment, life in a small seaside community of 750 people who predominantly had Finnish ancestors and primarily made their living from fishing was an exciting adventure.
The credit union didn’t have chequing accounts, so members purchased money orders to pay their bills. That meant they often spent fifteen minutes or more with me.
I was enthralled by their stories. Especially the ones about the early days of the Finnish settlement on Malcolm Island, the visionary (Matti Kurikka) they invited to lead them in their utopian endeavors, and the achievements, setbacks and scandals that followed.
For several years I had been fulfilling my childhood dream of being a writer and had moderate success publishing articles in magazines and newspapers. But I was itching for something more. Something big and challenging to focus on.
Every day at the credit union, I thought, “Someone should write these stories down.” Then one day, I wondered, “Why not me?”
I approached the BC Archives in Victoria, and they agreed to support me by providing cassette tapes (pre-digital times!) and guidance on conducting interviews. Along with my other research, I interviewed people living in Sointula, as well as others who had moved away. I was surprised at how eager everyone was to talk to me and how candid their stories were. A few people were so moved by their memories that they cried.
Along the way, I conquered my shyness, learned what types of questions generate the best answers and honed my writing skills. But doubt was a beast living in the recesses of my mind. Was what I working on good enough to be published?
Then I saw an ad in a Comox Valley newspaper for Blue Pencil Café sessions with author, Susan Mayes. I’d loved her book, The Life and Death of Albert Goodwin and knew she would give me honest feedback. I signed up, paid my fee and sent three chapters for her to review.
I was so nervous when I met Susan that I wouldn’t accept a cup of coffee or drink from the glass of water provided for fear I’d spill them. To my surprise, she was excited about my story and encouraged me to complete the manuscript.
I floated home and spent as much time as I could writing. But Susan hadn’t totally banished the beast. Early on in my research, I’d realized that the Sointula story had two parts. The first was the early Finns’ endeavors to create a better life. The second was the similar hopes and dreams of the hippies, back to the landers and war resisters who moved to the island in the 1960s and 1970s.
Part one was finished but did I have the stamina to write part two? Should I just call it quits and try to find a publisher?
Deciding I needed another professional opinion, I prepared an outline of the book and sent that, along with a couple of chapters, to Harbour Publishing.
A couple of weeks later, I received a postcard from Howard White, co-founder and publisher of Harbour Publishing. He said they were interested in the story and liked my outline.
One of many newspaper and magazine articles I wrote while researching Sointula Island Utopia.
It was a shock when Sointula island Utopia became a BC Bestseller and was awarded a BC Historical Federation Certificate of Merit for its significant contribution to BC history.
I couldn’t have done it without the help of many people – those I interviewed, those who translated Finnish documents into English, and the advice of Susan, Howard, and the BC Archives. I am forever grateful for that early encouragement.
But here’s the thing, a successful book isn’t just about a good story and decent research and writing. It’s also about the professional editing, design, marketing, and publicity that a good publisher can provide. That’s what showcases your work and makes the public aware of and interested in the book. Of course, in the digital age, a good social media platform helps too.
I recently donated the remainder of my Sointula research – oral history tapes, transcriptions of the tapes, handwritten notes, newspaper articles, and more, to the Sointula Museum. I’m so glad the material has gone home.
I went on my first book tour in 1995. Even though my publicist did all the groundwork and prepped me like a pro, I had no idea what to expect. I still don’t.
The biggest unknown is the audience. There may be two or there may be 200 plus, and the size doesn’t necessarily reflect the quality of your book, your name recognition or all the work your publicist and the host have undertaken.
What you can count on is that at some point, there will be a wildcard. My first was an elderly man, obviously in some stage of dementia, who kept asking why all the images in his book were different from everyone else’s. Then there was the homeless woman who attempted to dominate the Q & A session with incoherent stories.
But the most worrisome was the mentally disturbed man (eventually institutionalized) who got a hold of my phone number and called repeatedly to say he wanted to “get me alone somewhere” so he could tell me what obscene acts my friends were engaging in with children. In his first call, he said he’d been at my presentation the night before but there were too many people around for him to talk to me privately. The gig had ended late at night and vehicles left the isolated parking lot quickly. I was glad a friend had accompanied me.
’ll never forget the trip on a gravel road that was so full of potholes I kept looking in the rearview mirror to see what part of the car might be falling off. But at least I had control over the vehicle’s speed and was the only person reacting.
That wasn’t so while flying to eastern Canada for a presentation at a writer’s festival. The woman on my left had a panic attack when the plane experienced turbulence. Despite multiple flight attendants offering reassuring words, as well as coaching on deep breathing, the distraught woman shrieked at every jostle. I asked if she’d like me to hold her hand and she said yes. Lunch had just been served so I nibbled at my sandwich with my free hand. When the man on the other side of me began moaning and hyperventilating, I put my sandwich down and held his hand too.
My accommodation while on tour has ranged from mediocre to waterfront hotels. The iconic Sylvia Hotel in Vancouver’s west end is my fave. Quaint charm at its best. But that isn’t always the case. At one destination, I was escorted to an unoccupied but furnished house where I was to spend the night. As we entered the front door, the local organizer said, “Oh good, nothing’s in the traps. Yes, plural, as in five baited mouse traps.
Presentations involving PowerPoint can be tricky. I always request a tech person be present to assist with setup, but that isn’t always possible. Several times I’ve had to crawl along stage floors with the audience looking on while trying to connect compatible cables.
Once, after recruiting a teen from a nearby coffee shop to get things going, someone turned on the washroom light at the same moment someone else plugged in the kettle for tea after the event. The room was plunged into darkness and when power was restored the screen returned to “no input signal found.” Once again, I ran down the street to get the teen.
A book tour often means attending as many gigs as possible in the shortest amount of time. On one Vancouver tour, I was interviewed by two radio stations, appeared on three television shows, gave a presentation at the downtown library and had a photo shoot for the Globe & Mail all within 24 hours.
To say I was exhausted is an understatement. That’s why having a good roadie is a godsend. They can drive, carry boxes of books and sell them if necessary.
Yes, taking extra books is important. Buyers may exceed the host’s expectations, or the shipment may be waylaid.
A roadie can also be deterrent to potentially dangerous strangers.
Going on book tour is the counterpoint to being a writer. You are no longer sequestered in a room by yourself; you are at the head of a room in front of a lot of people, in many cases, most of them unknown.
It is exciting and daunting. Will they like your book? Will they buy your book? Will they stare at you in rapt awe or will they bombard you with awkward questions? All are possible.
The important thing is to remember that you are an author on book tour, which is something to be proud of no matter what happens.
As the dark days of winter creep toward the end of the year, many people consider resolutions they want to make for 2025. I used to make resolutions but some how they never lasted long. Two to four weeks was average. Two months was considered a success.
Of course, that left me wondering about my will power and feeling like a failure. Gradually, without even realizing it, I shifted to a new way of making plans for a new year. I now make a list of goals.
Resolutions and goals are similar but also quite different. A resolution is something you want to change.
A goal is something you want to achieve. It includes the steps you’ll take to accomplish your goal and the date you plan to achieve it by.
It took me a while to figure out what a goal is. I want to write a book and have it published is not a goal, it’s a dream. It’s like knowing where you want to go but not how you’re going to get there.
A goal goes something like this: I want to complete an 80,000 word manuscript by August 31, edit and revise it by December 31 and send it to a publisher or agent by January 1. To accomplish this, I will work on my book for two hours every weekday and for four hours every Saturday.
Goals I know will be on my 2025 list are completing a solid revision of the novel I’m working on and several home improvement projects to make my home more energy efficient and cooler in the summer.
The home improvements – a ceiling fan, new blinds and new appliances will be relatively easy. Each one of those goals can be accomplished within a month, leaving plenty of time for writing.
The writing, however, is altogether different. My current draft of the manuscript contains 33 chapters. The thought of revising that many chapters, especially knowing that half of them need major work, is daunting. So, I’ll break the project down into manageable chunks.
Months that I’m working on a fairly polished series of chapters, I can revise four or more a month. While working on challenging chapters, I may only be able to revise two a month so I’ll plan accordingly.
From past experience I know it’s easy to be overly ambitious and that modest, realistic time frames tend to be the most successful.
But simply having a goal often isn’t enough. To be truly effective experts say you should write your goal down, make a commitment by telling someone your plan, and being accountable to that person. I consider myself lucky to have two creatives – writer Caroline Woodward and artist Judi Wild — to share my goals with.
I try to be reasonable about what I can accomplish yet push myself a bit too. To be perfectly honest, I never meet all my self-imposed deadlines. But they keep me on track and motivate me to try harder.
Of course goals can be made any time of the year but I usually map mine out during the last few days of December. I always look forward to that interlude — the cusp of one year passing and another beginning — and all the possibilities that brings.
Feature image at top: Night in the Forest, a painting byBev Byerley.