In WAYS TO BE WICKED, the ambitious, hard-working dreamer of a hero, Tom Shaughnessy, reflects: Odd how soft and amorphous sounding the word ‘dream’ was. So many practical things, bits and pieces, tangible things, nails, wood and pound notes and people, went into the making of dreams.
These words kind of remind me of how my dreams of being a published author—my original, somewhat incomplete, amorphous dreams, that is—were so different from the reality I know now. Let's just say Tom knows more about dreams than I did when I embarked on my career.
To start kind of at the beginning, I don’t think I ever stopped writing once I could write. My first full-length book was the self-published (construction paper and staples), limited edition (I made exactly one) Crayola-illustrated story, Reddy the Rabbit. Reddy was a talking rabbit, and—but you’ve probably figured this out, because you’re all shockingly smart—he was red! In school, I studied Journalism and Creative Writing, and on the way to adulthood, I actively pursued other passions (like a fairly lengthy side trip into playing music) while doing time in the corporate world.
And that time in the corporate world only confirmed something for me: I longed to work independently. I had a wonderful fantasy I retreated to in moments of pure, head-banging, Dilbert-esque corporate absurdity: I was a published novelist; I set my own hours, working at home in the company of my cats, and at night a fascinating, attentive man of some sort who had a job that kept him out of the house all day would return panting for me. It was a very comforting fantasy, and not much more detailed than that, really. And then…
Well, you know what a centrifuge is? What it does? It’s this apparatus that spins really fast and separates substances of different densities—for example, milk and cream. Well, when I set out to turn my pleasant fantasy into a reality by selling a book, I kind of turned my entire life into a centrifuge. I’ll explain:
As you probably know, every author has a different story about how they were published. I finished THE RUNAWAY DUKE at night while I worked full time, over the span of about a year and a half. When I was finished, I knew I needed to look for an agent who would then, so I assumed, sell the manuscript for me. (This was about extent of my publishing knowledge at the time). I found an agent (my first agent) pretty quickly, and to my extreme joy she sold the book as part of a two-book contract a few months after that. It was this agent who suggested I join RWA. I did.
This was how I discovered that I needed to learn about a million things (what the hell is an ARC? A print run?) and do a million things (like build a website) on the fly, while revising one book and writing another and working a day job and and and…
Overnight, it seemed, the number of people in my life (there were already quite a few) and the number of daily responsibilities doubled, and for a year or so I never stopped moving from the moment I set my feet on my bedroom carpet at around 7 in the morning until I rolled back into bed after midnight every day. During the week I worked at my day job all day; I arrived home at night at around seven and sort of ate dinner with one hand while I typed revisions or worked on my second book (TO LOVE A THIEF) or paid bills or answered emails or worked on my website with the other. It was exhausting and exhilarating, but quite manageable for the most part. At first.
What’s that saying? Man plans, God laughs? Well, life happens despite your best-laid plans, and sometimes life happens with, shall we say, unforeseen vigor.
Did you ever have one of those years? Where every ring of my phone seemed to herald a new drama? Where you start to look at a ringing phone like it’s a rattlesnake, or something? I’d sold my book, which was thrilling, but on top of everything else, it turned out to be one of those years, too: births and deaths, divorces and breakups, disasters and triumphs, all occurred in a steady stream in my immediate circle of friends and family. And my writing career, my brass ring, changed the lives of everyone around me, too. Some people were understanding and wonderfully supportive, but others simply could not or would not understand why I was suddenly less available to them, and some threw actual hissy fits. It was difficult to know precisely how to allocate my time and emotion, because every corner of my life seemed to require every bit of me. I learned that being a professional meant trying my damndest to write a funny, entertaining book (To Love a Thief) in a short time span while I grieved losses and disappointed a number of people I cared about.
In the middle of all of this was this shining, wonderful thing—my first book, THE RUNAWAY DUKE, was a success—and the miracle that I’d been published at all.
In other words, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. J
And it was one of the most important times of my life. It was my centrifuge year: my life wildly spun, throwing everything and everyone I truly valued, everything truly essential to my life, into stark relief, separating it neatly from the less essential things in my life. When I was finally able to come up for air, it was clear whom and what I needed to keep in my life and whom and what needed to go, and I set about “cleaning house” with no regrets. And I went forward into my future as a writer more streamlined, more mature much more confident, because I now knew what I was willing to sacrifice, how hard I could work, what it truly meant to work independently, and just exactly how strong I could be.
I also learned that I loved my writing career, even the maddening aspects of it, because the maddening aspects only make you appreciate the delicious aspects (I mean— get to make up stories for a living!) all the more.
Anyway, that’s how my amorphous dream became a full-bodied, very satisfying reality— different from that original fantasy, but somehow much, much better. In fact, I'm nearly as smart as Tom Shaughnessy about dreams, now :) Anybody have a dream vs. reality story to share?
You know for some they aren't happy unless their live is filled with chaos and drama. Me personally, I enjoy a very mellow life. Yes I follow my birth sign (leo) and enjoy the spotlight and attention but I love the feeling of being at home, wrapped up in my latest project. And I'm also a perfectionist, so anything I do, is going to be done well. I won't say perfect because I have tons of room for improving my skills. But I will do everything my very best.
My mom once told me that "You could build Rome perfectly, but it would take you a 100 years because it wouldn't be finished until it was perfect". I'll settle for writing a book perfectly (as much as I can).
Anyhow, being published would so put me in a new world, but I also dream of it. I dream of the day I wake up and can have all the drama of deadlines, fan mail and everything that comes with having a book published.
BTW my childhood dream was to be a opera singer, which was well in the works until at 15 I was preggers with my daughter. I had scholarships to some of the best schools for my art of music but I wouldn't trade my daughter in for none of it. After my daughter I worked for a time as a wedding singer (not like the movie but during the vows and stuff) until my ex-husband said the sound of my voice made him want to vomit. It was then I formed a new dream.
Posted by: Haven Rich | August 31, 2006 at 01:59 PM
Haven—first, can I just say that I'm VERY glad the person who said the sound of your voice made him want to vomit is your EX husband?? Not currently married to you. Good God. I bet you have a beautiful voice. I hope you still sing in some capacity...in church? For weddings, as you did before? It would be a shame to deprive the world of your gift. :)
It's funny how threatening, sometimes, or unnerving, our dreams can be to loved ones. Understandably so, because achieving a dream often changes the dynamic in a given relationship. Some people just need to be reassured that they're loved and still part of your life, as they wonder how they'll fit into your life once your dream comes true; some people are simply afraid of being surpassed, and so react negatively either verbally or in actions; some people don't like to be reminded that they're not going after their own dreams. I found it was often a delicate negotiation process with people in my life, as my writing career happened rather suddenly (to them, at least). And I was often surprised by who was supportive of the time I spent on my new career, and who was simply not. I think it's hard for some people to truly understand how much time and commitment it takes to do something like this unless they've committed time and energy to something similar—my friends who have been to grad school, for instance, *really* understood what I was going through.
I did learn, too, that there were a few people in my life who basically thrived on drama, and I learned that I just didn't want that energy in my life anymore. My writing dream was too precious, and I couldn't afford to steal energy from it to give to the drama junkies. :)
And since we know you're a sensualist, Haven, and now we know you're a perfectionist, I would say you'd make the *perfect* romance author. LOL. Please, never stop dreaming, and working toward your dreams!
Posted by: Julie Anne Long | August 31, 2006 at 08:37 PM
Hehe Julie. I hope one day you'll be able to read my novel and still agree to that statement. I do know that I try very hard to get the "feeling" of everyting into my book.
Yes he is totally an EX! Sadly, the only singing I do now is at my desk with my mp3 player while I'm working on my novel hehe.
Speaking of drama..I hope you get a laugh out of this, because I did. Last night after I made dinner, I noticed the clock on the mircrowave still showed cook time..so I cleared it and the blasted thing just stopped working. Don't know why but it broke. I'm not worried because this is the one that came with the house, meaning we have two others that are newer and work perfectly well.
Well, the mother-in-law comes home and prepares her food and goes to microwave it and sees its broke. She comes into my office all freaked because she doesn't know how she is to heat up the food. Saying something like, she was going to have to wait until my husband came home before she could eat.
After recovering my wits from jumping at the sound of her voice (she scared me lol, my back is to the door and she just "boomed" with her voice), I didn't even blink when I replied, "or you could use the stove".
Might I explain that the food is sitting ready on the stove-top, in the pans it was cooked in..she only had to turn on the burner lol. Anyhow, this totally didn't make the mother-in-law happy, but I got a good laugh out of it.
Posted by: Haven Rich | September 01, 2006 at 05:20 PM