Step two: Write.
(United Feature Syndicate)

So you want to be a writer

while maintaining your will to live.

It isn't easy, but it is possible.

Here's my advice.

(If you want to know more about my own writing process, it's here.)

1.  Read.

And no, I don't mean you should spend all your time reading books about writing.

While there are many good books on craft, you can waste a lot of time reading about how to write instead of actually writing. To quote Admiral Ackbar: It's a trap. 

Just read lots of good books, in and out of your intended genre. Read classics. Read contemporary fiction. Read nonfiction. Read all over the place. Be promiscuous and reckless in your reading.

2.  Write.

If you don't write, you're not a writer. A writer is someone who writes. It's that simple. And that hard.​ 
Use the right tool for the job. ​
  • Find a pen you love. My pen love-match is the Pilot G-2. I write everything longhand in an unlined sketchbook like this one, and then I type it into my computer.
  • Use Scrivener. ​Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not use Microsoft Word to write a book. ​A novel is Phillips-head screw. Word is a raggedy, old flat-head screwdriver. Sure, you could use it, but you'll probably draw blood in the process. Scrivener is a lovely new Phillips-head screwdriver with a unicorn sticker on the handle.

3.  Gather a Team.

You need a team.
photo: Quickmeme
It turns out that writing is a team sport. I know, right? Who knew?
​You'll need:
  • Readers. It doesn't matter how amazingly talented you are, you need people to carefully read and critique your work. Look for intelligent, trustworthy, story-loving people who will offer constructive criticism. Try to make them follow the "What If You Tried..." Rule: whenever they say "This isn't working," they must add, "What if you tried..." My family are often my beta readers.
  • Other Artists. This is your pit crew. Family is good. Friends are good. But only other artists -novelists, screenwriters, painters, puppet-makers, furniture makers, musicians, etc- can fully commiserate with your artistic endeavors (plight). I am extraordinarily lucky to have an amazing critique group. Without them, there's no way I'd have gotten this far. We call ourselves Adverb Fight Club. So, gather yourself a group of artists. Ask them to
    • help you set goals,
    • provide encouragement,
    • keep you accountable for doing the work,
    • support you through your inevitable difficulties, and
    • celebrate your victories. 
  • Optional: a mentor. It's not necessary, but it is a bonus if you can someone who has traveled the road to publication. If you can't find a personal mentor, take a class on publication at your arts council or at a writing conference. Or pop an e-mail to author. Be brief, polite, and humble. If s/he has time, s/he'll get back to you.
  • Not optional: be nice, be humble, and do something nice for your team. You'll definitely be a pain in the ass sometimes. (I sure am). Your team is working hard for you. Buy them a drink or bake them a cake every once in a while.

4.  Be Totally, Definitively Sure You Want to be Published.

 There is a world of difference between writing for yourself and writing for publication. Frankly, I don't recommend writing as a profession. It's very difficult to get published, to say nothing of actually making a living. If you can write for your own edification, and do anything else to make a living, do the other thing.
  • THE GOOD of being a professional writer:
    • Your work clothes are sweatshirts and old jeans.
    • Your commute is bed to couch. Or just bed.
    • Maybe your lifelong dream of being a published author will come true. 
    • You may get emails from readers who love your book.
    • You might earn (small amounts of) real, actual dollars from your writing.
    • You'll probably meet other authors. 
    • You'll meet your book in the wild, at a bookstore or library.
    • Maybe you won't feel quite so self-delusional when you tell people you are a writer.
  • THE BAD:
    • You will do more editing than you can imagine, yet you'll still find a typo in your book.
    • You'll probably need to travel to many, many conferences to hype your book.
    • Bookstore readings with exactly three people in the audience: your mother, your bestie, and the bookstore owner.
    • You'll spend an insane amount of time on website maintenance and minutiae. 
  • THE UGLY:
    • Rejections. I was rejected by more than 33 editors before I got my publishing contract. 
    • Bad reviews. (I don't read mine. I close my eyes and make my husband read them and then let him lie to me.)
    • Your writing income will probably fall below the federal poverty level. 
    • Your love of bookstores and libraries and all that is good and bookish in the world will spiral into love/hate for ALL of it, because maybe they don't carry your books, or they do, but they are waaay down the shelf, and who do you have to kiss to get your book in The New York Review of Books, anyway?
    • Also general ennui that your books are little lost lambs out there in a big, cold world. 
​You really sure you want all that? You do? Okay. Me too.
​Right, then. Onward.

5.  Rejection is Inevitable. No, really. It is.

Dealing with Rejection the JJ Way: Punchdancing. J.J. Johnson, Author (photo IMDB)
From the Punch-Dancing Hall of Fame: Kevin Bacon's dance double in Footloose. (photo: IMDB)
 After I wrote (and rewrote) my first novel, it took me a full year to get an agent, and four years after that to get my book deal. I wrote my second novel while collecting rejections for my first. It was worth the wait: I love my editor and publisher. But the wait? Brutal. Bru. Tal.

In those years, when people would ask my young son, "What does your mommy do?" He would answer, with all the seriousness of an earnest three-year-old, "She gets rejection letters in the mail."

But you're all That's not going to be me. I'm more talented than you.

Awesome. Maybe work on your humility?

Even if, on your very first try, you get an agent, and a great book deal, and a sweet movie option, you will still get rejected. You might get dropped by your publisher. Critics might pan the movie and the book it's based on. Maybe bookstores won't keep your book in stock. Or a writer with your exact same idea stays on the New York Times Best Seller list for a year longer than you do.

It's gonna happen. It is an inevitability.

And so I give you my method for surviving rejection:
  • Listen only to the people on your team/s. They are the sole providers of trustworthy criticism. If your eyes accidentally slip over a particularly nasty rejection letter or bad review, remind yourself: Haters gonna hate.
  • Allow yourself 24 hours per rejection to wallow in a mire of self-pity. Remember, F. Scott Fitzgerald wallpapered his room with rejection letters. It's not a style I would pin to my Style and Design Pinterest board, but it worked for him. My strategy usually involves weeping in explosive Snoopy-tears fashion while washing down cookie dough with wine from a box. Hey, whatever works. You get 24 juicy hours to torture yourself and your family. Carpe Diem.
  • You do not have to have a thick skin, you just have to keep going. You can be sensitive. You can cry every time you get a rejection. I did, and still do. But after 24 hours, you must move the f*ck on.
  • Choose a theme song and punch-dance the hell out of it. I recommend anything from Rocky or Footloose. I wore out my track of Eminem's "Lose Yourself."​​
  • Celebrate victories, big and small. You finally signed up for a writing class? Cupcake! You finished your chapter? Cupcake! The rejection letter was personal, instead of a form letter? Cupcake! You got an agent? Cake! That tiny article you wrote is being published online? Cupcake when it's accepted. Cupcake when you turn in your edits. Cake when it gets published.​
  • If you get rejection after rejection and you still have to write, then congratulations. You’re a writer. (Cake!)

6.  Back it Up.
Story time!

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

An author lost three-quarters of a novel (which was freaking fantastic, by the way) AND the memoir from her year in Australia because her MacBook crashed.

RIP hard drive. RIP novel. RIP memoir.

Did this author know she should have been backing up? Of course she did. But she had moved hemispheres, and houses, and was traveling a lot, and just hadn't remembered to plug in an external hard drive. Blah blah excuse excuse.

This, ahem, anonymous writer does not want others to experience her hellish nightmare.

Writing is torturous enough. Losing your work is rubbing lemon juice into your paper cuts.

 ​And so you must back up your work.
  • Back up to the cloud. Sign up for a free Dropbox account. The free version gives you more than enough storage your writing.
  • Set your computer to back-up automatically. If your back up isn't automatic, it does not count. You will get in the writing-flow zone and you will forget.
  • In addition, a rebootable external hard drive isn't a bad idea, if you remember to back up and if you keep it in a secure, fire-and-flood-proof box. Those are too many ifs.
  • Bonus: Name your external hard drive Dat Ass, so you can always back 'Dat Ass' up.
 

7.  Be Happy.

Living your life as a miserable, misunderstood writing genius may seem romantic and artsy, but nope. It's just miserable.

You can be a good writer and be happy. But it takes work. You must be intentional about it.

Be kind to your family. Be good to yourself. Balance your work with lots of play.

If you are not happy, find a way to become so. Get help. Reach out. There is no honor in needless suffering.

Then, from your balanced, healthy platform:  take care and take risks.

A full and interesting life makes for full and interesting stories.

No, fiction isn’t autobiography. But you do need to know something about love, risk, and human nature in order to write things worth reading.

Be brave enough to enjoy your life.
Good luck!
Keep writing!

And...