I thought I’d kick off this round of Sven with a story that’s stuck with me for quite some time now. It’s about not giving up. I don’t remember the details or even where I saw it. I think it was in RWR (the monthly magazine of RWA). If you know, speak up because I’d love to thank this lady. Her voice hovers in the back of my mind as a reminder to keep pushing forward. The story goes like this:

A woman was trying to get published. She wrote whenever she had a few minutes - when the kids went to bed, early in the morning before the family woke up to start the day, and at every other inconvenient time when she would rather have been doing something for herself or the family…or sleeping. After about a year, she finished the manuscript and sent it to a publisher. One day she got an envelope back. It was a rejection. She sat down, upset and disappointed, and thought about all those times she could have been doing something other than writing and how her hard work and sacrifice had been in vain. Then her son sat down next to her and asked why she was sad. She told him the publisher didn’t like her book. You know what the kid’s response was? Write another one and send that to the publisher.

Yes, young Skywalker. That is the answer. You pick up and start again. Whether you are published or unpublished, remember that you have the time and somewhere inside you is the will. If you don’t believe me, ask a kid.

I’m not a big believer in the “this one wrote itself” philosophy. Sure, some books are easier to write than others. Some characters crystallize in your head better than others. Some plots flow while others bumble around. Some pages go from mind to keyboard with a great deal less profanity and hair-pulling than others. But the reality is the words don’t get on the page without a writer putting them there. The computer doesn’t write books. We do.

Despite that, there are these moments. The ones where the writing is hard, the words won’t come, it all reads like crap when you try to revise it…and then it happens. You read over something you wrote days or weeks of even months ago and you don’t remember writing the words. Ever have that happen? You go along and say, “wait, when did I write that?” and then realize what you came up with is pretty good. Whether you’re a plotter or pantser, you stumble across those lines. Even when you felt as if you were fighting every word, starting every sentence with “she” and only using “to be” verbs, you managed to come up with something great. Something that fit and came from you without having to dissect every syllable. That’s the It moment. You were in the zone and did not even realize it. And we all experience those speical times. We do. You probably don’t realize it now that they’re out there. It’s hard to see that when teh deadline is looming. In fact, you might not realize it until you look at copyedits or review a manuscript for the 50th time that you had an It moment or two. But, they are there and you need to hang on to the feeling you get when you find them.

So, as you worry and convince yourself you can’t write - and we all do that - take a step back. Go to the beginning, read through and you’ll see. Just where you thought the thread fell apart, it might actually have come together.

We deal with fear every single day. When pursuing a writing career, there are a few unexpected fears. Fear of rejection. Fear of success. Fear of failure. Fear that it will never happen for you. Fear you suck. Fear of not being taken seriously. Fear of never getting ahead. Fear someone is getting ahead faster than you. Fear that it can all be taken away. Fear that it whatever you achieve is a fluke. Fear you can’t repeat whatever you managed to do right. Fear, fear, fear.

I could make a much longer list but will stop because, honestly, worrying about the “what ifs” and “why not me” and “why can’t I” and the “when is my turn” moments stop you from moving forward. Fear can cripple and derail. It can also motivate so long as you limit its power.

There’s a Japanese proverb that sums it up the best. It goes like this: Fear is only as deep as the mind allows. I think that means that you can be ruled by fear or you can acknowledge it then push forward anyway. Whether you’ve written 100 books or are working on that first sale, you know some level of fear. To the extent there’s security in numbers, take comfort in the fact you are not alone. We all are fighting off some writing concern. Whatever it is, refuse to let it take over or take more of your time than it should. Whether you write or not, the fear will be there. So, you might as well write.

From time to time people ask me why I write. Shiloh hit on this a little bit a few days ago. For whatever reason, I never have a great answer to the question since, honestly, the answer is: because I do. Not to sound corny or annoying but I write because I want to, am driven to and am lucky enough to have someone pay me to do so. Producer/screenwriter/actor Bobby Moresco described it like this in a magazine called Creative Sccreenwriting:

I write for the memory of my mother and father. I write for the future of my children and grandchildren who will know this world without me. I write because I can make a living at it. I write because someone once said I was good at it. I write because even though I know what I have to say is not nearly enough, ever; I know it’s all I have to give. I write because I hope tomorrow to have more.

Seems simple, doesn’t it? Before I got my first publishing contract, I finaled in a few contests. Those finalist marks gave me both the courage and incentive to continue trying. I thought I could write but someone else was saying I could write. I thought I had something to say. Something to offer. Something I wanted to get down on paper and share. I wanted a chance and knew I had to earn it. But, man, I wanted it to come easier and faster. Then one day in May 2005 someone in NYC gave me that chance. An editor said I could earn money doing this thing I enjoyed and felt compelled to do. So now I write because I can and do.

This is a hard business filled with rejection both before and after you sell. There always will be someone out there who wins more contests, gets more requests and hears that phone ring with THE CALL before you do. After that, there always will be someone who is gets more attention, makes more money, acquires more publisher promo dollars and attracts more readers. This business ain’t for sissies, people who give up or for the easily disgruntled.

So, I’m thinking you need to have a reason to write. You have to know that reason, understand it and nurture it. When the whole process seems unfair - and it sure will - you can step back, dig down and remind yourself of your answer. Then push on. If the answer is as simple as “because I have to” that’s good enough. Know why and then write.

“The humorous story is told gravely; the teller does his best to conceal the fact that he even dimly suspects that there is anything funny about it.”

One of the odd pieces of knowledge I picked up in my other life as a divorce lawyer is a scary familiarity with the DSM (IV). The official name is the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition. Sounds like a lot of fun, doesn’t it? But, really, and not to minimize, but these issues come up in divorce more often than you might think.

What does this have to do with writing? Well, kind of everything. Long ago I stumbled upon a quote by E.L. Doctorow that made it all seem clear. The quote goes like this: “Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”

The quote made me realize that being able to put all of my creative energy into a book was a gift. Writing allows us to do the socially unthinkable. In our heads and on our computer screens, we connect words and put together stories of worlds and people that don’t exist except how they exist to us. Writing gives us the freedom to do what others can’t. We create and manufacture, design and believe. It’s work, but it’s also special.

Don’t waste it. Write.

“The only sensible ends of literature are, first, the pleasurable toil of writing; second, the gratification of one’s family and friends; and lastly, the solid cash.”

“People on the outside think there’s something magical about writing, that you go up in the attic at midnight and cast the bones and come down in the morning with a story, but it isn’t like that. You sit in back of the typewriter and you work, and that’s all there is to it.”

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.”

“You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.”