The joy of creation, the exhilaration of knowing that others
are reading and loving your work, the satisfaction of a story well told—that’s
all part of being a writer.
So is self-doubt. Fear of failure. The gnawing feeling that you’re
wasting your life. The surge of hope slapped down by the cold hand of
rejection. The certainty that you’re alone, that no one else understands what you’re
going through.
But you’re not alone. Whether you’re just beginning to
explore the possibilities of a writing career, or you’re trudging along the
submission-and-rejection trail, or you’re wondering if you’re in a rut and need
to change direction, or you’re working up the courage to plunge into indie
publishing—you are not alone. Every writer has felt the same way at one time or
another. And sometimes all it takes to restore our spirits and keep us going is
a reminder that we are members of a tribe with shared dreams and experiences.
A new publication from Sisters in Crime called Writes of Passage: Adventures on the Writer’s
Journey offers inspiration on every
page. In brief essays that cover all aspects of the writing life, dozens of
Sisters in Crime members share their personal stories. Contributors include such
longtime bestsellers as Margaret Maron, Barbara D’Amato, Laurie R. King, Nancy
Martin, Elaine Viets, along with many other familiar names.
Readers who enjoy learning about the writing process and how
authors get published will also enjoy this book.
Writes of Passage,
in trade paperback format, is available to anyone for $10 plus shipping and
handling from this website: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/SistersinCrime.
My own contribution to Writes of Passage is this inspirational piece.
You Are a Writer
by
Sandra Parshall
Years of rejection can warp a writer’s thinking in dangerous
ways and cast a shadow over future success.
Before I was published, I was timid about identifying myself
as a writer. A writer is someone who gets published and paid, after all. For
years I accepted the loathsome label of “wannabe.” After a published author
informed me that I was “just a housewife who imagines she can write mysteries” I
didn’t even feel worthy of the wannabe title.
Then my first book was published–by a small press. I
discovered that the inner doubts and the disdain of others don’t vanish with
publication. My book’s excellent reviews and award win meant nothing to some
people. I was a small press author, not in the same league as real authors. I’ll
admit I let it get to me when a reader told me at a bookstore event that he’d
never heard of my publisher (Poisoned Pen Press) and assumed it was a vanity
imprint–and refused to believe me when I assured him it was an established
press. I was published, but did it count for anything? Was I still a wannabe,
not a real writer?
I also heard that if you can’t live on your royalties, you’re
not a professional. Writing is a hobby, something you do in your spare time for
pocket change. I was writing constantly, every day, giving my books all my time
and energy, and it certainly didn’t feel like a hobby, but again I allowed
negative thinking and other people’s pompous pronouncements to make me feel
like less than a real writer.
I’ve finally come to my senses, admittedly a little late in
the day. After six well-received books, I’ve earned the right to think of
myself as a real writer, to announce it proudly and spell it out in the “profession”
blanks on registration and application forms. Only the IRS and the state tax
department have the right to ask how much I earn–and believe me, they consider
me a professional and tax me accordingly.
The wide-open opportunities in today’s turbulent publishing
world should be celebrated for many reasons, but they don’t guarantee
bestsellers and financial success, the only achievements some people will
respect. Writers still have to find a way around the pitfalls of negative
thinking.
I wish someone had told me long ago, before I was published,
to ditch the “wannabe” label. I was writing seriously, with the goal of
publication. I was constantly studying, learning, improving. I was a writer. I
should never have let anyone make me believe otherwise. After I was published,
I had no excuse for dismissing my own achievements. Books with my name on them,
books that other people were paying to read, were the only validation I should
have needed.
Often when authors are asked what advice they would give to
aspiring writers, they answer, “Never give up. Keep trying until you break in.” Good advice, but I would add: Start thinking
of yourself as a writer the moment you decide to devote your life to producing
stories for an audience.
You’re a writer. That’s your identity. Don’t let anyone take
it away from you.
