On Writing and Fitting in

Someone in the know recently said that few publishers want stories set in foreign lands. To fit in, I must be careful of the truth, I must beware, take care, mince words, be thoughtful, keep it short, do it this way or that way, don’t be too literary, show lots of action, don’t get into too many heads, be gritty or not so, be this, be that.

How do all those with publishing contracts manage? Am I so odd, is my writing so far out or off or not quite there? I’d love to know.

Though perhaps it’s merely that my Lord has whispered, “Wait,” and I’ve been too impatient to hear.

And so, while I wait, I write. And rewrite, and follow my own advice, given so freely over at Wayside. Too bad I can’t publish me!

 

 

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14 thoughts on “On Writing and Fitting in

  1. Normandie, so much of what I read from the establishment publishers is skewed and out of touch with many readers. It gets tiring . . .

    1. Yes, and so we trust. Amen? Amen. Of course, you’ve taken a different route, one I don’t feel called to try. I wish you many blessings in it, my friend.

  2. Keep rewriting. You alone will know when the work is complete, and how best to share with readers. Psalm 118:24 (no rebels involved ).

    1. You sweet thing, Molly. But, darlin’, you know me. No work is ever complete. Oh, I think I’ve proofed and edited and rewritten. And then I go back and edit and edit and edit again, because, really, there are thousands of ways to write each sentence and perhaps a tad more humor would help here, a little less angst there. I drive my agent crazy, sending him revised versions. I cut and chop and crop and come up with a new beginning. I drop POVs because I decide I don’t really need that one. My critique partner reads and says perhaps I could find just a bit more sympathy for that character, and what about this other thing? Have I thought about it? And the light bulb goes off, and I slash and dash some more. Frankly, I love every minute of it. I’m picturing it now: how will I ever let go enough to publish? Oh, my. Isn’t that a question? (She’s giggling here, and are old ladies supposed to giggle?)

      1. You are still the sculpturess! I see you pulling the clay, adding, subtracting, waiting for the child to come alive. Then one day it must be fired in the kiln and set in stone. Was the child finished? Are we ever done? You must accept the slice in time and move on to the next. So very hard to do. You are well trained and God led!

        1. Anne, exactly. What a great analogy. I used clay because I saw the image when nothing existed, building from that nothing until the work stood complete–sometimes cutting, sometimes adding, always honing and smoothing until I put down my tools. Those who carve from stone or wood see the image in the block and release it. Two different methodologies, two different ways of creating, much as we have writers who start with only an idea and those who outline and plot with care. Thank you for your comments and encouragement!

  3. God has told me to wait, too. For a long, long time. And I’ve gotten to a place where I enjoy writing, without knowing if anyone will read. There is something freeing in not worrying about all the do-this-don’t-do-that commands that the professionals give.

    1. Well, Sally, I’m in complete agreement. I write what I write and how I write, and the stories accumulate on my hard drive. They win contests, but never a contract, and my poor agent keeps trying. Darling man.

      This journey has blessed me with many new friends and my agent’s client group, some of the best prayer warriors I know. God is good, all the time, and you and I and Nicole will just keep on trusting and keep on walking. Amen? Amen!

      Waiting is part of God’s plan for us, I believe. Because it tempers us and keeps us humble. It also helps us stay on our knees if we choose to trust. I know you agree with me that one day in His courts is better than a thousand away from them. We praise in all things at all times. And we cry, “Glory to God!”

  4. I also get frustrated with what’s supposed to sell and what makes a good story and what I should leave out coz no one is reading that anymore. Then I pick up a new release from a highly selling author, and the story just isn’t any good. I think, is this what publishers want? A lot of talking and introspection and mulling over why the character got saved? (Insert big heavy sigh.) Like you, I keep writing, between working that is, and hoping someone out there gets me and what I want to say. All the best.

    1. I’ll sigh along with you, Teresa. We want to be “gotten” — both for our words and our thoughts. What sort of stories do you write?

  5. I’ve been doing a lot of reading since I bought my kindle and I’m delighted to say that all but one book was by an indie author… and each and every one was excellent in its own way. So perhaps the way of the future is to forget about publishers and publish for ourselves. I haven’t tried either way yet but when I see such great books being snubbed by traditional publishers I know that something is very wrong with the old system.

    1. I’m not sure I agree with you, though this does work for some. I’ve read a few well-edited self-published works, but the majority stand in dire need of a professional eye cast in their direction. There are editors and there are editors: some will do an excellent job of helping you polish your work, and some will be certain their advice is good when it isn’t — or when it is merely incomplete.

      I shy away from publishers whose books make me wonder if their editors finished school, but the majority of publishers take care to hire professionals. I think it’s incumbent upon us to do all that we can to hone our work. If it hasn’t sold, there must be a reason. And I’m determined to find out what that is!

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