A little life lesson

I’ve always been close to my parents. My Dad was the single biggest influence on my life without doubt. Any major decision I’ve made has his loving hand guiding me imprinted on it – which country to go on exchange to, which university to go to, which course to study. Even having a crack at this writing malarkey is his doing - thanks dad ;) . And my Mum, well, we ring each almost every day, tell each other everything (ok I might have kept one or two things from her over the years) and when I was younger she and I spent countless hours on the end of my bed in deep discussion.

I always thought I knew them inside out; the dark corners of their less than idyllic childhoods; their lives before children; their hopes and fears. I thought I understood exactly who they were and where they came from.

Until last night.

After a pleasant family dinner I witnessed a conversation between Mum and Nan (her mum) that has changed what I thought I knew about why Mum is the way she is. And it knocked the wind out of me.

Not the revelations themselves, so much, but the fact that I had always so strongly (arrogantly?) believed I had my Mum’s motivations, insecurities, lack of confidence all sussed out. And I was wrong!

I’ve always prided myself on ‘seeing through people’. On understanding their behaviour. A great skill to have as a writer.

As a writer I can see through my characters’ motivations and inspirations. Even when my characters surprise me, as they inevitably do, when they take a twist I wasn’t expecting, I always understand how or why they take that turn. That light bulb moment as my pen dances across the page and suddenly Nicole zigs when I thought she would zag, and the voice in my head says ‘yes, of course, that’s exactly what she’d do’.

As a daughter, evidently, my vision and understanding aren’t quite as honed. I’m now seeing my Mum, and my Nan, in a very different light and my understanding of them has changed.

It’s never a bad thing to realize you don’t know everything. It really isn’t ;). And this is a life lesson that I will take and try to apply to all areas of my life. If I don’t know those closest to me as well as I thought, then maybe when dealing with that rude shop assistant, or that mother from school who boils my blood, or my in-laws who… (well let’s not get personal!), I can just pause and consider maybe there’s something else going on that I’m not aware of.

And I can certainly apply it to my writing. GO DEEPER! Just when I think I know my characters inside out, I can dig a little further, peel back another layer. There may be something hiding there I didn’t see before. 

S
keep cahsing those pavements

 

That first delicious nibble

The day I got my first nibble will stay in my mind for some time. I'm extremely glad we don't have CCTV in our house. While it was a joyous scene, it certainly isn't one I would want anyone to see...

It is 6am, and I'm dragged from my slumber by my 6 year old. Hair sticking out in all directions, mis-matched pyjamas crumpled, an unfortunate tear in the seat of my pj bottoms (hint, Santa, hint), I check my email as I always do first thing. Always expectant that my query letters have worked magic while I slept. Always disappointed by the form rejection email in my inbox. Or, worse still, no email at all. (Yes, agents - hearing nothing is worse than hearing no)...

Bleary-eyed I scroll through my inbox. I've won another European lottery(by jingo I'm one rich woman now) and I'm offered another free appendage enlargement (if only I had said appendage to enlarge!), and an email from the office of one of the agencies I'd love to sign with. I can see it isn't from the agent herself so steal myself for another "Dear Author, thanks but go away". I sigh and start reading.

"Dear Sandie..." (at least they used my name). "Agent Dream enjoyed reading your sample and would like to read more. Please send your full MS...." Sorry? What? "Please send your full..."
A squeal is heard next. Then jumping begins. Then I'm possessed by something or someone that thinks they can dance. Arms and legs start flailing in all directions as I twirl around in the kitchen. I hug my phone to my chest and bound down the hall to wake hubby with the good news.

I frighten the stuffing out of him as I launch myself onto the bed and show him the email.
"What?" he grumbles, clearly not happy to be woken in such a manner.
"This!" I point to my phone.
Then my mouth drops. I realize I've hugged my phone so tight, I've deleted the email!!!

As I panic, computer engineer hubby suggests I simply retrieve it from the trash folder. I do so promptly and then forward to my back up email, just in case.

One more embarrassing happy dance with 6 year old joining in (any excuse to dance for her).

With fingers crossed I send my hopes and dreams over the net into the hands of Agent Dream....

And now I wait. Checking my email every 5 minutes, despite the 11 hour time difference, just in case Agent Dream is awake at 2 am and is so moved by my MS she can't help but respond straight away. Right?

I know that Agent Dream can still say no, and if she does...well, let's not go there today. As writers we face so much rejection, these little victories, the one step closer, are important and we have to hang on to them. So until I hear back from Agent Dream, I'll hang on to that feeling of dancing round the kitchen in my torn pj's.

Good luck to all you writers out there and keep chasing those pavements.
S
oh...I've just checked my email AGAIN - no news!

Rejections, Resilience and Red M&Ms

I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried when my first rejection came in. As much as I know intellectually that rejection is par for the course as a writer, it sure did get to me. So, as the mature and educated woman I am, I dealt with this rejection in the most sensible and grown up of ways - After I cried I ate M&Ms. A whole big bag of them. Scoffed them down like no tomorrow - except the red ones. I always linger longer on the red ones. Then I watched some daytime TV.

Three very healthy ways to deal with rejection indeed.

My second rejection came a few days later. No tears this time, but more M&Ms and more daytime TV.

I guess Cat Stevens was right when he wrote "The first cut is the deepest", as by the fourth rejection I simply shrugged and ate more delicious tiny buttons of chocolate.

Still, despite the fact the tears stopped, I had to find a better way to deal with the heartbreak coming my way. So I did what any sensible, grown up does. I sought wisdom from the internet. It's not personal, keep trying, share your feelings, blah blah blah ... Not helpful really.

What did help was other people's misery. What does that say about me? I somehow stumbled on a blog about famous rejections and suddenly the world was looking rosier. Reading about The Notebook's 24 rejections and The Help's 60 and what was said about Gatsby (!), I came to the conclusion that I couldn't call myself a bona fide writer until my number of rejections hit double figures at least. And I was only up to 2!

How one finds the resilience to keep going after 60 rejections, I don't know. I guess it comes down to self-belief. Something I find quite transient myself, and generally not at the bottom of a bag of M&Ms. Though I do keep looking for it there.

One piece of wisdom I did hold on to after trawling the net was that rejection means that you're actually trying, actually putting your work out there, not just sitting on the lounge thinking about it and never picking up a pen. Maybe all I'll receive is rejections, maybe not. But if I don't keep putting it out there I'll never hear that one "yes". And that's all it takes - just one "yes".

So, I'll keep on chasing those pavements...

S

Chasing Pavements

Any writer out there knows the road to publication is not the shortest nor smoothest. Statistically the chances of a first time author getting published are minuscule - unless of course you're a movie star, pop star, or celebrity chef! But for us mere mortals it is a seemingly elusive dream - an exercise in chasing pavements.

Submission after submission, rejection after rejection. Hoping that the 1 or 2 authors an agent takes on a year out of the 100-200 submissions they receive each day (don't do the maths - it's depressing) is you.

So why do it? Why put ourselves out there, set ourselves up for heartbreak, open ourselves to being so vulnerable as to have our souls rejected? The simple answer - because we must. When JK Rowling put 'The Casual Vacancy' out there, she was asked why take the risk, it's not as though she needed the money. Her response - "I need to write...as a writer, what you really want it to have a conversation with readers."

When you discover that you love to write, there is nothing else in this world you can imagine doing.

So, my manuscript has been written. And re-written, and re-worked, and re-tweaked and re-jigged and it is now out there. Sitting in agents' in boxes or on their desks, waiting to be read, waiting to be that 1 in 70,000 (OK I did the maths!) picked up by an agent.

Follow me as I chase my pavements - the ups and downs, the agony and (hopefully) ecstasy. It's sure be one hell of a ride!

S
my twitter