Sadly, that's a question no one can answer but you. Because there are so many paths, there is no one-size-fits-all advice that applies to each and every writer. Some will find their success self-publishing. Some will find their success through more traditional routes. Some will take courses, classes or get a degree, while others will toil tirelessly, pursuing their "hobby" as if was a job, all the while juggling "real" life on the side. They can, and do, cut their path to superstardom while sitting in a trailer, or waiting for the bank to foreclose on their house, turning their unhappy circumstances into the kind of happily ever afters you'd normally find in fiction. These exceptions to the rules have literally changed the rules. So what can you expect?
Well, things have changed, that much is clear. Things are changing. What worked ten years ago, five years ago, or even last year may not work for you in the same way now. So if you want a fast-track to success, no one, and I mean no one, can guarantee you one.
BUT, there is one universal piece of advice that is rock-solid, no matter which path you choose. It applied then, it applies now and it will apply to anything worth doing that you want to accomplish:
Don't be afraid of the work.
"Well, duh, Ginger. Real ground-breaking stuff there. Thanks for nothing."
I know it sounds a little simplistic, but one thing that stymies new writers more than anything is unrealistic expectation, set up mostly by those notable exceptions to the rules. It demonstrates what success might look like, and we all want to jump from where we are to where that is. This is not because of laziness or lack of character, it's because our very identities depend on it. I'm sure you know more than one writer who has told you, "I'm not a writer yet," because they are waiting till they publish/sell/"make it" to claim the title. We're not waiting on a thing to happen. We're waiting to become.
This is not exclusive to writing, by the way. No one wants to be a newbie anything. There's not a lot of glamor in sitting alone in a room, playing basic notes and learning chord progressions to learn the guitar. These are grueling, repetitive tasks that tick painfully by when all you really want to do is get out in front of a legion of screaming fans and shred like a master.
But the bigger the dream, the harder the work, no matter how naturally gifted you may already be.
A good book will sell. A great book will sell more.
So how do you write a great book? Usually you have to write a few stinkers along the way.
I was a new writer once, so I know how tempting it is to believe that we are the exception to the rule. If I tell you that the first book that you write will be the worst book you write, there's a part of you, just like there was a part of me, that screamed, "NO, IT'S NOT." And it's not ego that makes you feel that way, believe it or not. You just want the dream so freaking badly that you need to be the exception to the rule, otherwise it may not happen at all. Nothing is scarier than that.
And sadly, there are enough bottom-dwelling opportunists out there who've created an entire industry promising they can get you there with their top-secret methodology. One of the things that drives me bonkers is to see all those ads that crop up on Facebook from time to time, with all these "sure-fire" tips to make you the next best-selling sensation. You buy their product (usually some form of advice telling you there IS one correct way, one sure way, to get you up the mountain,) and soon you'll be sipping Mai Tais on a beach somewhere, living the glamorous life of published author.
Thing is... that's not what the life of an author looks like.
The books you need to read, the advice you need to take, is from working writers - not those who wouldn't have a best-selling book if they weren't telling you how to write one.
Yes, you can write a book in as little as a month. Yes, you can publish this novel to the masses with a mere click of the button, without having to burst through the gates once fiercely guarded by the big publishing industry. And yes, you may end up being very successful. And that all sounds really easy, certainly easier than it's ever been.
But you can't accomplish any of that if you're not prepared to do the work.
It takes time and energy to write a book. It takes even more time and even more energy to edit that book into something that you can sell. And it takes hustle like you wouldn't believe to get your name out there and fight for that hard-won one-click dollar.
You may share your dreams with a lot of other writers, but what you're willing to do to make that dream happen is all on you. That's why the one-size-all advice just doesn't work. That's why there are so many ways up the mountain. There are so many different writers, who approach their craft and their career in many different ways. The only universal thing binding us all together?
The work. The work to produce a book. The work to sell it. We all do it. There's no way around it. There is no shortcut.
This is not some tropical vacation. If you want to make your career as a writer, you have to go into it knowing that it's still going to be your job, one that will demand far more from you than a normal 9-5.
There's no fast track and no one owes you anything, even a positive, glowing, 5-star review validating all your hard work. (We'll get to THAT topic eventually.)
If you can't find time, passion and tenacity to write, to research, to edit and to market... then no book anywhere, no advice anywhere, is going to make up the difference and turn you into some overnight success. There's a reason for this. It's a simple matter of conditioning. If you have to work hard to become successful, then you are prepared to work hard to keep the success. When you get to the top of that mountain, guess what? There's another freaking mountain, with higher peaks and vistas - and steeper terrain. The life of a working writer IS work. It means writing when you don't feel particularly inspired, having constant deadlines looming over you and barely making them with minutes to spare. It's about being tired and sleep-deprived, while pressing through to keep up with the demand once you edge into the business and make any kind of name for yourself. It's about releasing your book the same week as other writers, and having to do something, anything, to make sure your book doesn't get buried, forgotten or overlooked.
It is a job.
A demanding, crazy, rewarding job... but a job nonetheless, one that naturally weeds out those who aren't cut out for it through its grueling initiation process. And it's a job that guarantees no set wage, so that passion better sustain you where hard, cold cash cannot. You could be making a hundred thousand a year, or you could be making way less than minimum wage. Sales, ultimately, are out of your control no matter what you do. Just because you've written a book doesn't mean someone else is going to buy it. You have to write a book worth reading and then fight, claw, climb your way out of the slush pile to make sure someone knows it exists.
Honestly that second part is way more time-consuming and taxing than the writing part. Most of us didn't start writing a book just so we could be some pesky salesman at the end. (I know I didn't.) The reason I want to make enough money off of selling my books? So I can write more books. In order to do that, I have to train myself to sell my material in a market that is always changing.
Don't be afraid of the work.
One of the downsides about today's publishing environment is that many people haven't really been put through the paces by the time they publish, so there is no realistic basis on which to build your expectations. We've all heard the success stories. Someone publishes a book, next thing you know they are a superstar. And if THEY can do it, why can't we? Because it is as easy as hitting publish after you finally write "The End," or get paid because you have a book on the market, far too many people take for granted that a LOT of work goes into publishing a book that will pay the bills, much less afford you the "luxurious" life of a best-selling author. If you're going into this for a get-rich quick scheme, where you can "play" for a living, you've got the wrong gig.
Back when I got into screenwriting in the early 2000s, one of the unwritten "rules" was that it would take nine screenplays to make a sale. If you were on your first screenplay, that was pretty depressing news. But there was a reason why that "rule" existed. It takes time for a newbie to produce something that can fight for its place among the big boys. You have a lot of learning to do. There's significant trial and error. You need to learn the market. You need to learn the tricks of the trade, to hone your skills, to develop your voice.
Many first books are a collection of other voices/writing styles that the author has funneled into their own story. It's nothing done on purpose, mind you. Our first (and best) education as writers is to read the works of others, so where else are you going to pick up things like voice and style? In our first few books, voice is simply undefined. If you want an example of this, UNDER TEXAS SKIES was the fourth book I wrote, way back in the 1990s. Unlike its predecessors, it wasn't extensively rewritten or changed much from its original content by the time I published. It was my story 100%, but my style was regurgitated from all the books I had read beforehand, heavily influenced by the traditional romances I grew up reading, with all the stumbling, bumbling efforts I made to carve out a style of my own.
Compare it to BACK FOR SECONDS, book #28, and you'll see that the writing style is more streamlined. I know who I am now. I know what I can get away with. I know what my readers love and what they don't love. It's kind of like Tony Stark/Iron Man. If you haven't seen the movie, Tony Stark, a tech genius, was captured overseas and held hostage by terrorists, who wanted him to build them a missile. Instead he built a very rudimentary metal suit to escape. And though it got the job done, he took everything he learned from what *didn't* work from that first prototype to make his suit even stronger.
The only way you're going to know what works or what doesn't is to do the work. Try and fail, then try again. Though it's an impossible suggestion in today's market, I personally think that you should have at least three books under your belt before you hit publish. Then, after you write book three, rewrite books one and two... preferably with the assistance of at least one editor who knows what he or she is doing and one mentor who is strides ahead of you on the journey, who has already turned their craft into a trade.
(By the way, no matter who you are or what you do, the editor and mentor thing is a MUST. You can publish book 1 without having written books two and three, but having objective, critical feedback before you do is non-negotiable.)
Nothing... NOTHING... takes the place of practice. Sure, you could get lucky and sink a basket the very first time you walk out onto the professional ball court. But if you want to keep slam-dunking the ball, you need to put the hours in, learning how to perfect your shot.
But no one wants to hear that. No one wants to hear that you can't be a success right out of the gate. We all want to believe in the wine-and-roses HEA, where sitting on the top of lists, or getting paid more money than you've ever been paid in your life, will validate your journey and confirm your identity at last. Ironic, looking back. The trappings of success are only a small part of this experience. Yes, you can make money. Yes, you can live the life of a rock star at times, meeting fans and being interviewed and treated like you're someone really special because you touched someone's life with your words.
Most of the time, though, you're balls-or-ovaries deep into your next book, because this is a treadmill never stops. After the newness of your brilliant debut wears off, readers will want to know what you're doing next. Sales taper off and you know that you have to get back to the grind, otherwise you're going to make pennies a day if anything at all. The odds of you making enough money to coast for very long post-publication are slim to non-existent. Only 20% of self-published writers make more than $1000 a year, and those that do make that kind of money work very, very hard to do it.
So don't be afraid of the work. Your dream job is still a job.
And if that idea doesn't send you screaming for the hills, congratulations. You've got what it takes to make your dream, any dream, happen.
So let's make it happen. Every Wednesday, standing date, you and me. Let's figure out these crazy, changing rules together.
No comments:
Post a Comment