Confessions of a newbie writer
Confessions of a New Writer
Seven years ago, I started on my journey of becoming a serious writer. For years I have been writing stories, but never pursued it to the next level. That all changed by the urging of my sister to join her at a writer’s conference that she had been attending for years learning her craft. I was a little apprehensive as she tried to explain what would happen once we got there, but this being my first conference I was in complete overload.
When we arrived, everyone welcomed us, and I began to relax as they eagerly shared what they were writing about and were truly interested in our stories too. It was a humbling experience standing in awe among people who had succeeded in getting their work published. As we moved into the conference rooms, a bookstore area had been set up and the tables were covered with published novels, children’s stories, testimonials, non-fiction and more self-help books than I could imagine. As I scanned over the many titles I realized I had been totally unaware of the depths of knowledge that went into writing a book. I had a lot to learn.
After checking in, I received my official name tag and schedules for my classes, then I signed up for several fifteen-minute meetings—that I can only describe as speed dating for authors—with agents, publishers and editors to pitch my story. When the time came, we were hustled into a conference room with tables scattered around holding the names of the agents, publishers and editors. My stomach was doing flip-flops while I waited with the other hopeful writers for the bell to ring. With the jingle of the bell we made our way to the table holding the name of the person we were to talk to and, after a brief introduction, I sat down and was met with a friendly smile before I made my pitch. While I passionately revealed my premise, I would observe their faces and body language hoping for a hint that they wanted my story, and in the throes of the moment, I was sure someone would say my story was the best thing since sliced bread. It wasn’t, and they gently turn me down. They liked the concept they would say, but suggested I needed to learn how to write first.
Okay, maybe that was a little harsh and I was left a little shell shocked—but after regaining my composure and dealing with the hurt and anger of rejection, I realized they were right. The more I read and listened to my instructors, I soon understood I didn’t have a clue about the proper constraints of writing a novel. What was word count? How many scenes were in a chapter or how many chapters were in a novel? What did head hopping mean? Was I showing verses telling? There were so many things I didn’t know, I just wanted to write my story.
I survived the conference and returned home more determined than ever to educate myself further and launched into learning all I could on the proper way to write. I soon discovered there was a method to the madness if I wanted to be an effective writer. I won’t say it hasn’t been a struggle, but I’ve come to appreciate the process. I read constantly, take classes when I can and force my relatives to read my book. Of course, if they don’t like it I might have to disown them—only kidding. I think.
As a newbie writer, I have come to understand that writing takes time and commitment, which is hard when you work full time, but I am managing to carve out snippets of time to work on my labor of love. It can also become an obsession at times. Not that I mind this. It has given me an excuse to not feel bad when I don’t exercise and helps me from over eating, since I can do neither when consumed with getting that perfect paragraph. Even with the threat of an exploding bladder, I find myself pushing on to finish the scene before rushing for the bathroom doing the potty dance. It’s amazing what we will do for our craft.
Now each time I sit in front of my computer and open the file that holds my words, excitement courses through me with wonder as I read what I have written. It may not be the next great novel, but to me, I find old friends on the pages and discover new ones as they work through their hopes and fears, searching for love. I know my story inside out, but it still brings me to tears at times from the struggles my characters are going through. That may sound silly, or maybe all writers go through this emotional roller coaster. I know I want to feel that way when I am reading other authors works. Either way, I’m enjoying the journey watching my characters develop on the screen in front of me. It gives me a feeling of hope that someday, someone else might read my stories and enjoy what I have written.
Six years have gone by since that first conference and after attending more conferences, several rewrites, character changes, edits and more—I’m ready to start the submission process. That scares me more than going to my annual physical having to step on the scale, and explain a ten-pound weight gain—yes it can happen. I explain that I am a writer and receive a knowing nod. When asked what my book is about, I launch into my hopefully perfected elevator speech and watch their expressions as I tell them about the story and feed on their responses. So far—this has been an encouraging process.
I know that writing is not an easy road to travel, but with learning my craft, participating in the conferences and making a serious commitment to write every day, the prospects of having my novel published is attainable. I truly believe that if you work at something you love, anything is possible.
