Happy Writers' Society...no, CLAN. Coven, maybe?

I've noticed a wealth of angst lately among writers. This business is hard to break into, and it's easy to get down on yourself, on your writing. And it doesn't seem to end even after the book deal. I haven't met a writer who didn't at one point feel a little stressed and frustrated and pressured. Or a lot.

Obviously I've been going through an intense bout of writer angst this year as well, and I gotta admit I'm sick of it. I'm sick of the knots in my stomach when I write, the worry that I'm messing up my book, the wondering and "agony" of waiting.

I hereby declare war on writers' angst. WAR, I tell you.

And I'd like to recruit you, too.

I'm forming a club, except anyone can join so it's not that kind of club. I'm calling it the Happy Writers' Society. It will probably be as ridiculous as Haruhi Suzumiya's SOS Brigade, so be prepared for ridiculousness and smiling. LOTS of smiling.

Because writers should be happy! We are creative, imaginative, hard working people who claim to love what we do! Shouldn't we show it a little more? Do we have to be so tortured? I don't think so. I'm so over "tortured writer."

So welcome to the Happy Writers' Society!

Mission: To spread writerly cheer, celebrate the journey, and otherwise purge writers of angst.

Every Friday (along with my occasional sketches), I will be posting something for Happy Writers' Society (HWS). But that's not all—I want "members" to share their stories too! So if you want to join my little club/clan/society/coven thing, please do. And if you want to share, send your stories (500 words max, please) to natalie (at) nataliewhipple (dot) com. Now to kick this off with a BANG.

Celebrating Failure
Disney put out a movie called Meet The Robinsons a few years ago. I don't know if it really took off, but it's one of my favorites just because it reminds me to "Keep Moving Forward."

It's about a boy inventor, struggling to get his mojo back after his most-loved invention fails disastrously. (Um, can you see the parallels already?) He wants to give up inventing—he's ashamed that he can't get anything right ever.

At one point, the Robinson family convinces him to try tinkering again, so he attempts to fix this machine. And guess what happens? No, he doesn't succeed—the thing blows up in his face and the boy is utterly devastated.

And then the Robinsons cheer.

They cheer for his failure! They throw confetti and tell him how awesome his failure was, how horrible it went, laugh at how everyone's covered in goo. It's totally cheesy, but it sticks with me every time.

You see, the Robinsons believe failure is great—they believe it's learning, growing, and part of the process to finding what DOES work. It's nothing to get upset about, nothing to give up over. And as cheesy as that is, I've decided I'd rather be cheesy than depressed all the time.

So today I shall celebrate my failures by posting my VERY FIRST QUERY LETTER EVER. Oh, yes, it's a doozy. It's embarrassing. And I'm totally gonna celebrate the beautiful newbness of it. Just so you know, my very own agent received this query almost three years ago. It was promptly rejected in five minutes—making it my very first rejection! Are you ready, guys?

When Sevene’s hair turns blue on her sixteenth birthday she thinks the world is ending; and she’s exactly right. In Sevene: The Keepers, a 74,500-word novel, the timid yet creative Sevene Keys finds herself with incredible new powers and daunting responsibility when she discovers she is from a distant world. As aliens invade Earth to kill her, she must not only avoid her own death, but stop the vicious creatures from destroying Los Angeles.

Hooked to writing since I could read, I have been avidly conjuring stories and dreaming of new worlds since kindergarten. I worked as a writer for BYU’s Eagle’s Eye Magazine for four years, writing over 30 articles for 10 issues while also managing layout and editing responsibilities. A hard-working perfectionist, I believe that revision is the heart of good writing and embrace criticism as a means to improvement. I am not afraid to rework my materials and seek out people who will help me grow as a writer and help my stories flourish into novels.

In reading your blog, I felt that my manuscript would be a good addition to your list. Thank you for considering my complete manuscript, which also has an option of becoming a series.

Awesome, right? I mean, take a look at the bio paragraph! For reals? Please imagine me laughing, because I am. It's funny how there's this little shred of potential there (I'm totally digging the tagline!), and yet, wow, what a disaster. That bio paragraph is basically a "see how insecure I am but please like me anyway?" speech. And it's totally vague in general.

But, I learned a lot from this first query. First, I learned I had no clue what I was doing. I wrote this without any help—I had no writer friends to help! This experience propelled me to seek out knowledge and friends, which profoundly affected my life.

Second, I learned that I had the guts to query, even if I wasn't ready. That was a big deal, since I'd spent my life up until then too afraid to even try. I learned I could put myself out there, get rejected, and survive. Luckily I only queried five poor souls with this thing and then decided I needed more practice.

Third, I learned my book wasn't ready—I wasn't ready. I really had no idea how much work it took, but writing this first query taught me things about storytelling. There's nothing like a summary to test your plot, to show whether or not the story actually holds up. After writing this query, I realized my book didn't. Sure, I still didn't know how to fix it, but at least I knew!

So there you go, a disastrous failure that led to many good things! Sure, it's a little embarrassing, but I don't think I'd be the writer I am now without it. In the end, I owe a lot to this silly query, and thus I will celebrate it.

This concludes today's Happy Writers' Society meeting. Please feel free to celebrate failure with me in comments! I would love to hear your misteps-turned-positive!

Also, I should probably make a badge or something...a crest? A flag? Oooo, a THEME SONG.

Living With Scars

The last few weeks have been rough ones for me. I can't go into the details, but I lost something I put a lot of hope in. I didn't even know how much hope I'd put in it until it ended. Don't worry, I know I'll be okay, but it's got me thinking a lot about the grieving process, about how we as humans deal with the hard things we face.

We all have moments in our life that hurt. And as a good friend said, "Pain is pain." I don't think we should go around comparing who's suffered more—who wants to win that contest?

Times like these remind me that those moments, while they do fade, never really go away. It's like that scar I have on my chin, from when I fell out of a wagon as a kid. It doesn't hurt like it did when it was oozing blood, when the stitches itched and my mom kept telling me not to touch them. Most of the time, I don't even think about it.

But then sometimes I rub my chin or, uh, pluck a stray hair from there, and there's the scar. I remember for a moment turning that corner too tight, toppling to the right, and my face skidding across the sidewalk corner. The blood is warm as it dribbles down my neck. The barely-attached skin flaps back and forth in the wind. My friends' faces fill with horror.

It's as if I relive it all over again, just by seeing that scar.

Grief seems to be that same way for me. Most of the time I'm fine—I don't spend a lot of time thinking about the hard things I've gone through. Mostly because I don't think my life has been that hard. I constantly feel blessed. There are so many good things in my life.

But when something sad or awful does happen, it's like touching those scars. The memories come back, almost as vivid as experiencing it all over again.

I was teased as a kid. And I'm not talking the little jokes here and there. From kindergarten to around my sophomore year in high school, there was someone "out to get me." Someone who made sure I knew what an awful person I was. And sometimes they were once friends. I want to think I've grown out of it, but when I struggle with my self-esteem or loneliness their voices always come back:

"I hate you, Natalie."

"You're ugly."

"You're weird."

"You're not cool enough to hang out with us."

"You don't belong."

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me. A horrible lie, in my opinion. I still live with the mental scars from words wielded harshly. Every time I fail or "look stupid," it's like touching that scar, remembering the pain.

It's like a chain reaction, because that, of course, makes me think of my grandmother. She always made me feel important and special and worthwhile. I lost her 18 years ago, and yet the memories smacked me across the face yesterday. I was driving home, and bam, I ached for her like I haven't ached for her in a while. I wanted her to be here, to tell me I was the most brilliant writer in the world. Because when she said things, they were true or she would make them true. She was magic like that. A fireball.

So then I end up living through all my grief because of one sad thing (I won't go through all of them for you, this sad post is long enough). It plays in my mind, vivid and real (though it's probably more like over exaggerated and melodramatic). Logically, I can see what's happening and why, and yet at the same time the feelings are still there. The scars.

I know as I heal up from this last emotional wound, the pain will fade and I'll be fine. I might be changed in ways I may not even know, but fine. I also know that as much as I heal, there will always be this scar, a reminder of what I've been through.

But maybe that's not such a bad thing, to remember those hard times once in a while. Our scars are as much a part of who we are as the rest, right? They shape us, but it's up to us to decide what shape that'll be. I'm determined to come out of this one stronger, even if I'm not quite sure how to do that yet.

Handling Self-Imposed Deadlines/Goals

First, Dino Boy started preschool today! Even with the orientation, I had like two hours to do things. I got work done—during the day. It was awesome. And Ninja Girl got to play with any toy she wanted! Without bossy big brother micromanaging!

Obviously I'm not Mother of the Year material, as not a single sign of tearing happened. I hear so many moms get sad and nostalgic, but we were all happy.

Dino Boy: Pick me up later?

Me: Yup.

Dino Boy: Bye.

Me: Can I at least get a hug?

Dino Boy: /sighs Alright.

He's gonna be an awesome teenager. I can't wait.

I have a little more time now, and I'm so happy about that. I might actually get a chance to let that cyborg side out again!

Today I wanted to talk a little more about self-imposed deadlines, since many comments on Monday mentioned being horrible at keeping them. It's not an easy thing to learn, the whole set-a-goal-and-stick-to-it thing. We can refer to centuries worth of unfilled New Year's resolutions for proof.

But if you want to be a professional writer, part of that is learning self-discipline. I won't lie, at some point in this journey you will want to give up, you won't feel inspired, or you will face outside forces that prevent you from writing. At those times, sometimes "love of writing" just isn't enough. Sometimes you have to push through, and you can't really count on anyone but yourself to do it.

Delayed Gratification
Setting personal goals and deadlines really comes down to how well you can delay your own gratification. It's hard these days, when so many things are instant, to put off "good things" or "fun things" for the "better thing" that takes so freaking long to happen.

Delaying gratification happens constantly in writing. You write now so you'll have a book done later. You edit now so when you finally query it'll pay off. You suffer through submissions so you can have the backing of a publishing house. And so on and so forth.

The first step to meeting self-imposed deadlines and goals is deciding—one hundred percent—that they are worth it. That when you reach them, the deprivation of fun/pleasure/laziness/sleep/food/time will be a decent payment for what you have gained.

Basically, it's the Marshmallow Test, but for grown-ups.

If you can't convince yourself of that goal or deadline's worth/plausibility, then it's less likely to happen, right? Humans are like that—we don't usually go along with things we don't find valuable in some way to ourselves.

Creating A Plan
Okay, so you convince yourself that writing a novel (or running a marathon, or losing weight, or learning to play the piano) is a worthwhile goal. You want it, and you want it BAD. And not only do you want to finish a novel, but you want it published and successful, etc.

How do you get from Point Want to Point Results?

A plan, of course.

Now, don't imagine me with this "How I Will Get Published" notebook full of my goals/deadlines and a little chart I check off when I meet them. You'd be way wrong. I mostly keep this in my head when it comes to the big goals. Besides, let me know if any of your actual "How I Will Get Published" plans actually, uh, go according to plan.

But when it comes to the smaller parts of my goals, I definitely have plans. I plan to finish books within certain periods of time. I plan out my edits. I plan what to work on next.

I can't tell you how to make your personal plan, but I will give a few tips.

Deadlines and Goals and When/How They Should Be Used
Example of a bad deadline: "I will have an agent by the end of this year"

Why? Because this is not something you can entirely control. A deadline should be attainable by you and you alone. It should not be contingent on another person. There is a very real risk that getting an agent in insert-whatever-time-period-here will not happen. And then you will feel bad when you really shouldn't.

This kind of deadline also may hinder your work. You may rush a project that needs more time. You might query before you're ready. You might actually sabotage your own goal of an agent by wanting it too soon! (It took me almost two years, mostly because I spent the first year being stupid and impatient.)

Example of a bad goal: I will sell for six-figures.

Why? Well, it should be obvious. It's also something you can't control—selling at all is something you can't fully control. Having this mindset may also sabotage you. Instead of writing stories from your heart, you may start to write for the market instead, you may get caught up in "the game" that doesn't actually exist.

Good goals? I think we've all heard that they should be measurable, reachable, and all that other stuff. You know, realistic and yet challenging.

Some of mine (that I like to think are good):
• Constantly improve my writing. (Goal)
• Finish first Transparent edit by then end of September. (Deadline)
• Get published. (Goal. [Also notice how there is no time line or specific book attached to that.])
• Finish first draft of new WIP by the end of the year. (Deadline)

All tough, but also realistic according to what I know I can do.

Rewards/Punishments
After you have determined your goals and their worth, it doesn't hurt to throw some motivation on there. Of course I prefer rewards—who doesn't? I don't go for punishments unless I really need help moving.

Rewards and punishments are the same as deadlines/goals. You can't give yourself something crazy awesome for writing 100 words. Okay, maybe if you're rich. Rewards and punishments should fit the accomplishment.

I usually go out to lunch for finishing edit rounds—and more importantly I DON'T go out to lunch when I don't. Delayed gratification, right?

There are many things you can do. Maybe you can't write that New Shiny Idea until you finish this book (or chapter). Maybe you don't get to watch that episode of Glee until a scene is done. Maybe you can't get on Twitter for ONE WHOLE HOUR while you write.

Whatever works for you. I find internet deprivation extremely helpful. I'm just sayin'.

***

In the end, it really comes down to the first point I made—delayed gratification. The rest is fairly worthless if you don't think your goal/deadline is important or worth it. When I struggle with writing, with my self-esteem and motivation, I always have to go back to that ultimate question:

Is publishing my book worth all this work?

I'm always a little surprised when I say yes. Again. As long as that's my answer, I will keep believing in my goals and making deadlines.

Paranormalcy!!! It's OUT!!!

Hey guys, a really awesome book comes out today! No, not Clockwork Angel, though I'm sure that book will be plenty cool. I'm talking about my dear friend Kiersten White's book—Paranormalcy!

Have you checked out my contest yet? You should if you're a writer—it's not everyday you have a chance to win a full manuscript critique. A picture of Paranormalcy in the wild is your ticket to entry.

You might get tired of me talking about this, but I swear I won't go too overboard. It's just so exciting! Paranormalcy is OUT THERE—in bookstores! on real SHELVES! you can order it online and it's not a pre-order anymore!

It's amazing that it's finally here. I'm so happy for Kiersten. Having watched her work so hard, go through every up and down of trying to get published, I know how much this means.

Sometimes, getting a book published seems like nothing short of a miracle. So many things have to line up just right. There are so many steps—so many people to please—and all it takes is one thing to throw it all off. Every publishing story, even the "fairy tale" ones, come with a lot of hard work and waiting that people seem to forget about.

I met Kiersten before Paranormalcy was even a thought, before she had an agent, before she'd written the book that got her an agent. Two and a half years ago, we were both just two aspiring writers with nothing to show. Okay, scratch that, she had a novella published in Leading Edge. But I certainly had nothing to show.

We had a lot of crazy dreams—getting agents, getting published, hitting lists, and, yes, even going on tour together. It's amazing that even a couple of those have actually happened, because looking back I don't know if we really knew what we were getting into.

I remember reading Flash. I remember being awed by how good she was and knowing I had a long way to go. When she got her agent off that book, I cried I was so happy. She deserved it.

There's something about writing friends. They get this weird business, how hard and yet rewarding it is. She was there for me when my dragon book ultimately failed in querying. I was there for her when Flash ended up not selling. She was there for me during nine long months of revisions and the offer of representation that came after. I bawled again when she called to tell me about her book deal.

We've been through a lot together—good and bad, happy and sad. I think it's that roller coaster that makes this day so huge for me (uh, and for her). Today isn't just one day. It's the culmination of years of writing, working, waiting, and hoping. Today her dream is officially REAL. And I'm so happy to be able to share this moment with my dearest friend, because in a smaller way it was my dream for her as well. I wish I lived in San Diego so I could celebrate with her! Oh well, I suppose I can wait eleven days.

But I can't wait to go to the bookstore today, to see Paranormalcy there. I can't wait to pick it up, to flip through the pages. I will probably cry. Again. It's kind of what I do.

Congrats, Kierst. It's finally The Day! Enjoy it, okay? :P

Deadlines, Punishments, and Rewards

I like deadlines and goals. I know, crazy, but I really do. I'm the kind of person who works better when I feel that clock ticking, when I know I only have so much time to get something done. (Hey, editors out there, please take note. I'm just sayin'.) If I don't have a deadline, then I just put things off and actually work slower.

Usually I have no problem setting my own deadlines and pushing myself to reach them. I outline what I have to do, plan how much I need to accomplish each day, and follow my plan come rain or snow. Step by step, the work gets done. If I need a little extra push, I pick a reward I can have when the work is done. It's never anything huge—maybe taking myself out to lunch or a new pair of shoes. For getting an agent, it was an orange purse. And if I ever get a book deal, it'll be a real desk (I currently work at a card table, heh).

But lately, my writer self-esteem issues have been getting in the way of my goals. I've been ignoring my deadlines because sometimes it feels like accomplishing stuff isn't important like it used to be. Of course this feeling is false, but I feel it nonetheless. Funny how that works.

This is where punishment comes in. Oh, yes, punishment.

I ask my writer friends to give me deadlines and punishments for failure when I can't get my butt in gear. Kiersten told me I had to finish Transparent by a certain date or risk following Tweeters who consume your feed with endless and constant updates (no, I won't name names). Renee has finally warned me that if I don't finish reading her MS in the next two weeks I will be drawing her something (she knows how to punish, getting something else cool if I fail and all).

Not everyone works well with deadlines, but I highly recommend them, even if you don't have an agent or editor to give them. It's good practice, right? Finishing a novel isn't an easy thing no matter how many you've written or how long they are, and sometimes it's nice to have that extra push when things get tough.

Friday Sketch

Writers are weird, weird people. We spend a lot of time moaning and groaning about how freaking long it takes to finish a book or how much work it is. And then we finish (like I did yesterday), and what's our first thought?

"Hmm, what should I work on next?"

Seriously? Not "How long should my vacation be?" Or maybe "Let's not do that again for a while." Or "I should really clean my house, read all those crits piling up, and take a big chunk out of my TBR pile."

No, here I am thinking about the next project—what it should be and when I should start it and how I can make it the best thing I've ever written. I'm rather disgusted with myself, to be honest. I'm a freak of nature. So far I've decided to start my "first" round of edits on Transparent next week and to work on something new.

The new project isn't really that new. I wrote like five chapters a while back, but then forced myself to put it away and do my "real work." Well, after digging through my manuscript graveyard yesterday, I've decided that I want to pick this one up again.

This drawing is one of my MCs, Corbin Parr. I didn't have a good picture of him in my head, so I decided to draw him. I'm not totally happy with it, but at least I know he has brown hair and gray blue eyes. That's something.

Corbin is moody, restless, and more daring than his father would like. But he can't help himself—the Shepherds, an alien race now occupying Earth, took his brother, and he's determined to find him even if the chances are slim. That is, if he can escape his father's compound first.

I like him, even though he's kind of a pain in the butt. Anyway, those are my plans for the rest of the year (plus reading all these crits, sorry crit partners!). What are yours?

The Rewrite: In Hindsight

Last night I did something I've been wanting to do for, oh, six months or so. I finally, finally finished rewriting Transparent! It's DONE. Okay, not done, but you know, the first draft is all the way written. There's a beginning, a middle, and an end. Some of the sentences might even make sense!

*Sigh*

Right now I'm mostly feeling relief. I know I have lots of revisions left, but I did it. For a while I wasn't even sure I could finish, so it's nice to know that I could at least do that!

Rewriting—as in starting completely over from blank document—has been quite the experience. In some ways, it was easier than I thought, and in others much harder.

When I first began, I thought I'd be scared. I was starting over! I had to write the whole book again, after I'd spent the last six months editing it and the three before that writing it. The idea should have been daunting, but it wasn't.

Once I wrote my first chapter again, I knew the book would be better. It was exciting! You know how sometimes in life you wish you could have a do over? Yeah, it was like actually getting one! I had the hindsight of the old story. I knew how to make it better. I could just write it all over again and pretend the bad version never happened!

It was liberating in a way. Suddenly it felt like I could fix ALL my old books! Rewriting wasn't so bad. I mean, I had this outline for the new and improved version, I already knew the characters, I knew what mistakes to avoid. All I had to do was follow my outline until it was done, right?

Yeah...or not.

What I didn't expect was the emotional impact of rewriting. I mean, having to write your book again, no matter how you put it, implies failure. I failed so badly at the first attempt that not even six months of editing fixed it. I had to start over completely.

It hit me about 50 pages in—this feeling of utter incompetence. How was I supposed to know this draft was any better? What the heck did I know? Hello, I'd rambled on for 68k words, never thinking once that what I was writing might not ultimately work. Add in some other rather traumatizing writing events and, wow, I was a wreck.

I felt stupid. There's no way around it. I felt like the stupidest writer ever born. I doubted everything about my writing. How should I know if my outline was any good? What if my characters were as lame as ever? What if I put in all this time and just mess it up all over again? Obviously, I hadn't learned as much as I thought I had in the last few years—I couldn't even put together an acceptable book when I tried!

Not really the best mentality for writing. This is where alpha readers become vital, because if it weren't for Nick, Kiersten, AND Kasie (yes, I had to ADD an alpha it was that bad) I never would have finished. The only thing that really kept me going was their encouragement. Them saying it was good would give me just enough faith to get through the next chapter before I wanted to give up again. And sometimes I didn't even believe them, but their nagging pushed me through.

I wish I could say it got better after a while, but it didn't. It wasn't the book—it was me. My mentality got worse as I ventured into the middle. It felt like I was repeating myself (uh, because I kind of was). It seemed like there was no tension (though my alphas claimed there was). It felt like the book was the most boring, stupid thing ever. I didn't want to finish. It didn't seem worth it.

I stopped for about six weeks to work on another project. And though that work ultimately had its own challenges, the time away from Transparent was a godsend. It gave me a chance to step back from all those awful feelings—to see that it was me who had the problem, not the book.

I may not have been bouncing-off-the-walls happy when I got back to it, but I was pleased. I felt like maybe it wasn't so worthless. Maybe it would turn out okay, and that was enough to push me through the last 20k or so.

So now I'm done. I think I'm more proud that I got through it than anything. I know it needs a lot more work, but I'm glad I survived emotionally. That was the most unexpected challenge. It made all the others seem like cake.

If you're rewriting, my heart goes out to you. If I can do it, you can too! It doesn't mean you're a bad writer or that your story sucks. Sometimes you just don't know enough that first time around—I didn't truly know the conflict of my story until after the 8th edit! That's when I realized I'd skipped ahead and it was all messed up.

And to those of you who haven't rewritten, I guess be prepared for a serious roller coaster of emotions. You can get through it, that's what I learned, and no matter what you feel your book will be better. That, somehow, is worth it.