For Road Trip Wednesday, YA Highway wants to know:
“What’s everyone’s reaction when they find out you’re writing a book?”
I talked ranted about one of the most common things I hear last week, so I won’t talk about that one again.
Aside from that, the number one response I get when I tell people I am writing a book goes something like this:
“Oh, how nice. I have always wanted to write a book. I will have to do that someday.”
To which I reply, “That’s awesome. Do it.” And almost immediately regret saying so*. Why do I regret it? Because what follows usually irritates me and then I have to use all my willpower to not hop up on a soapbox and start preaching screaming at the nice person who was just trying to hold a conversation.
Oh, okay. Because you asked nicely, I will let you in on what follows my suggestion to actually write the book you have always wanted to write. the possible responses are:
“I would, but I really just don’t have the time.” News Flash: When God gave us 24 hours in a day, he didn’t secretly dole out extra hours to novelists, rocket scientists, or goat herders. Everyone gets the standard 24 hours each day (if I am wrong about this, please please please tell me how you scored your extra hours). Sure, some people have more responsibility than others, but everyone is busy (and if you are not, please tell me how you managed that also). You know how you find the time to write a novel? You make the time. Give up watching TV (except Dexter, let’s not go crazy here). Spend less time on the internet. Stay up a little later or get up a little earlier. Write during lunch breaks and when in lines. If you really want it, you make the time for it.
“Well, I just don’t know how to write a novel.” Does anyone know how to write a novel? I don’t think so. No two novelist have the exact same approach to writing. The only way to learn how to write a novel is to put the words on the paper (or on the screen, as we are wont to do in this hoity-toity technophilic era). Start with a couple different approaches. Write one novel on the fly, no outlining allowed. Write one with an extensive outline. After you have written a few books, you will know what works best for you. Even then, you won’t have a definitive answer on how to write a novel.
When in doubt, remember Stephen King, who says, “When asked, ‘How do you write?’ I invariably answer, ‘one word at a time.’”
“Yeah, I guess someday I will get around to it.” It is more the way this one is said than the actual statement that gets to me. This one always comes across with an air of apathy, like the person doesn’t really care about writing but, yanno, getting published would be cool so why not? Guess what? Writing is hard. Editing? Hard. Getting an agent? Hard. Getting published? Hard. If you don’t want it, and I mean really want it, then there is no sense in doing it. This sense of apathy makes me think you don’t really want to write a book at all, in which case why in the name of Mork did you say you have always wanted to write one?!
Ahem. Okay. Calming down now.
So, there you have it: responses I get when I tell people I am writing. And my responses to those responses. Maybe someday I will write about the responses I get when I tell someone I write Young Adult Fiction, but I will have to save that post for a time when I want to really get my blood boiling. Like maybe before my next cage fight.
*Someday I will learn the causality of this regret and stop answering this way. Perhaps I should just shorten my response to, “That’s awesome.”










2 Comments
Funny. I never meet people who dream about writing. Mostly, I meet people who question my capacity to do so, but, fearing a face smash of unquantifiable proportions (I am growing a full beard and admit I look scary), they just say “that’s nice” and back slowly away. I promise, my brain is as big as my bicep. Frustrating.
I know buddy. I have read little bits of your writing, and I am impressed. I think your brain might even be BIGGER than your biceps (is that possible?).
Also, I think I need to see a picture of this beard. Yanno, just to make sure you are as scary as you look.