A couple of weeks ago, I talked about Getting Vested in writing. Well, saavy reader Emily asked a question that I think deserves an answer:
Do you think being ‘vested in writing’ actually requires an output of ‘hard, cold cash’? Or do you think thinking and reading (and writing and writing) can be ever enough?
The short answer is “Yes.” Yes, I think being vested in writing requires an output of ‘hard, cold cash.’
The long answer is a little more convoluted, but it will bring us back to the short answer, so stay with me here. IMHO, there are two ways to invest yourself in writing:
I’ll start with #2. Any time you spend writing is investing yourself. This includes any form of writing. Blogs, journals, short stories, vignettes, longer works, whatever. Hopefully this is consistent writing, still, it all counts.
Time you spend educating yourself on the craft of writing is investing yourself. This includes attending conferences and workshops. It includes formal education. It includes reading blogs on writing, reading books on writing, and it includes reading books in the genre you write. Education is always an investment.
So here’s where we get to the meat of the thing. Look at that second list about educating yourself. Many of those things cost money. Conferences? Workshops? College-level classes? Money, money, and more $$$. Books on writing? Not so cheap. Books in your genre? Not SO expensive, but money, neverthe less.
Now I can hear you protesting.
“But I use the library.”
“I get books for free through blog contests.”
“I attend the FREE WriteOnCon Conference.”
I say, wonderful! Great resources. I love the library. I love WriteOnCon. I love blog contests!
But here’s the catch: Time = Money
I know, cliche-city, but it’s true. I work for myself and I know exactly how much my time is worth. I know exactly how much I am not earning when I choose to spend my time elsewhere. Spending time is a monetary investment.
Finally, I think there is a place where you must simply suck it up and pay the hard cold cash, because there is no substitution of time. As a serious writer, you should join a writing association. Whether that’s SCBWI, RWA, NWA, a local group or whatever, do it. Joining a group is a declaration to yourself that you’re serious. And bonus, it’s a declaration to others (i.e. agents and editors).
So yes, to be vested, I do think you need to shell out some cash.
What’s your opinion?
Just before the new year, my friend talked me into signing up for a half-marathon with her. Up to then, we’d casually exchanged running time (taking turns watching our kids), but she was ready to get more serious.
Honestly, I have never had the desire to run a marathon or even a half marathon. I ran for soccer or basketball . . . running with a purpose I called it . . . but never just to run. Only crazies do that.
But then some stuff happened and I needed a distraction. Something I could do to completely get away from all the whirrings of my mind (so you can see why writing wouldn’t really fit the bill this time). I paid my money and suddenly, I’m vested in the craziness of running to run.
I quickly learned that if I wanted to be successful, I needed to make some additional purchases. Appropriate running clothes (because believe me, you run for an hour or more and it’s essential!), the right shoes, plus a little gadget (I use Nike+) to track my progress. If I want to succeed, I need to know where I stand and how fast I’m improving.
Because time is of the essence here. March 17th, I have to be able to run for 13 miles.
I’m guessing you know where this is going. The writing thing.
Are you vested?
Are you so anxious to succeed in your writing that you’re willing to put up some hard cold cash to get there?
Do you make sure you have the right equipment, the right training (think critique partners, conferences, seminars, writing books)? Are you tracking your progress so you know that you’re improving (think multiple drafts, multiple books)?
Just something to think about. 😉
Right now, ecollegefinder is holding a vote for the top writing blogs. You can go vote for your favorite by clicking on the little badge below.
You have until Feb. 3, and you can actually vote for multiple blogs and on a daily basis.
Some of my favorite writing blogs are listed (Miss Snark’s First Victim and Shallee McArthur), while others I love (Literary Rambles and Janice Hardy’s blog) are missing. Someone kindly nominated my blog as well, but no pressure to vote for me.
So my questions to you are:
1) What makes a top writing blog? and
2) If you were nominating your favorite/most helpful writing blog, who would you nominate?
Yesterday, I saw a license plate I could identify with:
Of course, for the full effect, you needed to read the custom license plate frame. Above the plate it read: “I love creating,” and then below was a web address. I was driving at the time, so I unfortunately don’t remember the address.
In short: I love creating kids books.
Aha! I thought. A kindred spirit right in front of me. But then it made me wonder. Is she/he published? Not published? What kinds of kids stories do they write? And with all these questions, I wondered if I would have the moxy to make that MY license plate?
I remember reading a post by Hilary Wagner, author of Nightshade City, shortly after she got a book deal. She confessed that she didn’t tell anyone she wrote until after she had an agent. That post really made me think, because I, like her, didn’t want to tell anyone about it until I’d had some tangible success.
At that point, I kept a family blog, but not one to chronicle my writing. Only direct family (and critique partners) knew my secret. I felt comfortable with that. It’s better this way, I told myself. Less to explain. But what I found was that I was withholding a significant part of myself from people I really cared about. Standoffish is probably the best word to describe how I felt.
For me, that wasn’t okay, so I changed some things.
I remember the first time I told a friend that I was writing a book. I steeled myself for the reaction. You know, that credulous look that says, “you really think you can write a book good enough to be published?”
It never came. Instead, she said, “Actually, that doesn’t surprise me.” She asked all kinds of questions about what I was writing, my writing process, and what my plans were. And I realized that people who care will always be interested. Always believe you can succeed.
Because that’s what friends do.
I still don’t tell just anyone, but I don’t withhold it from my friends either. So back to the original question: would I choose a license plate like this?
The answer is probably not. At least not yet.
What about you? Who do you tell that you write?

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Anyway, So while I’m sure you’re all wildly interested in our bowling night, I really wanted to compare this to writing (surprise, surprise).
I spent this weekend in Gettysburg at the Tri-regional SCBWI conference. I had a great time, refueled my writing bucket, and met so many wonderful people. Okay, that sounds trite, but it’s true.
Though we are limited in what we can share because of copyrights, I wanted to share one little nugget with you all:
In a session with Sarah Davies, Agent Extraordinaire of The Greenhouse Literary Agency, she said that about 50% of the submissions she receives start with one of the following opening scenes:
What do they all have in common? They are all literal beginnings. Interesting, no?
She commented that when she sees this, though it sounds harsh, her expectations drop. It’s an immediate strike against the manuscript which takes amazing writing to overcome.
Instead, start in an unexpected place, and you’ll already be one up from about half the submissions. . . . The middle of a heist. Feeding the pigs. At the top of the school’s flag pole. Standing on cloud 9 (literally). In a graveyard digging up a grave. At the scene of a murder.
So many options!
Perhaps we just need to give ourselves permission to go a little crazy. I mean, we are writers, write? (I mean, . . . right?)
Where does your book start?
When news of Hurricane Irena came, I happened to be vacationing in Virginia Beach with my husband’s family. The morning before we were scheduled to evacuate, the Port Authority came by and posted this flag next to our waterfront beach house:
Now, I won’t go into all the implications for the real-life scenario of this posted warning (rip-tides, being pulled under, etc.).
Rather, I am sending out a warning to all those contemplating entering the waters of writing.
WARNING: Water Is Dangerous
Now let the records show. You have been warned!
So, what warnings would you add?
Sorry I missed Monday, but I underestimated the fatigue factor of jet lag. Definitely still recovering here.
So with a promise for something exciting come Monday, here’s a quote from A League of Their Own:
“If it weren’t hard, everyone would do it. It’s the hard that makes baseball great.” – Jimmy Dougan (Tom Hanks)
Of course, you can swap out baseball for whatever hard thing you’re working at and the idea still holds true. If you can’t guess, I replace it with “writing.” If it all came too easily, I don’t think I’d appreciate the craft of writing as much as I do. And I certainly wouldn’t appreciate any success I may have.
So I’m glad that writing is hard! (Though I can’t believe I just put that in writing.)
How about you? What would you swap in for “baseball”?
1. The players don’t work together. Any given player will take out his own player to get the ball.
2. The poor players trip oven their own feet. Often. (It might have something to do with their shoe-tying abilities, but I can’t be sure.)
3. The players forget which direction they’re going. And that’s usually the fortuituous moment that their aim is accurate.
We often talk about what we wish we knew way back when. Back before we started writing.
But here are some things I’m glad I didn‘t know:
And finally, at the top of my list . . . I’m glad I didn’t know writing was so hard. Because as ignorant as I was, I sure enjoyed writing that first book.
So what are you glad you didn’t know when you started?