Articles
Why a Routine
is Important | The
Trick to Rejections
Working
from home can be, in a word,
challenging. Between the
dogs barking at the dust
balls floating across the
floor, the cats sending faxes
to China, the teenagers inviting
the neighborhood kids in
for Hot Pockets and Doritos,
things aren’t exactly
quiet at my house.
Which
is why a regular routine is
essential.
When
developing a routine, start
by doing a personal inventory
of your writing habits. Are
you most productive first thing
in the morning, late at night,
or during the afternoon? I’m
referring to the first draft
writing aspect of the process
because for me, revising can
be done anytime.
I’ve
resigned myself to the fact
that, for me, writing in the
morning is about effective
as skating on quicksand. It
just ain’t
happening. Keep track of when
you get the most pages written,
the time of day you’re
really in the zone, and see if
there’s
a pattern. Capitalize on your
physiology’s natural
routine; don’t fight
it. Yes, that means if you’re
most productive between three
and seven in the afternoon
the kids are going to have
to make their own dinner.
Once
you’ve figured out
when you get your best work
done, carve out that piece
of your day, every day, to
write.
Let’s
say you’re
a morning writer (I envy you).
Set your alarm and get up and
write your pages for whatever
hours you’ve designated.
Have lunch about the same time
every day, take your afternoon
walk at the same time, etc.
Developing a routine stimulates
the habit of writing.
What
can you do to respect your
natural routine? I’ll
suggest paying attention to
the food you eat. Honestly,
I’ve noticed I need a
nap shortly after ingesting
simple carbs (sugars, white
flour, etc). Do certain foods
affect you in different ways?
I find that protein, veggies
and fruits are brain food for
me.
Also,
pay attention to what triggers
your muse. A few things that
come to mind: listening to
music, taking a daily walk,
reading poetry and…vacuuming
(I’m not kidding.) Somehow
the mindless motion of sucking
up tumbleweeds of dog and cat
hair seems to stimulate my
brain. (Sorry, I’m not
coming to your house). Don’t
dismiss mindless activity.
Think of it as a tool to detach
your creative mind from the
ever-present critic that lives
just beneath the surface, the
one that intimidates you into
NOT writing your pages.
In
my opinion, a routine helps
train your brain to tell your
body what’s next on the
agenda.
Every
day at exactly 6:30 p.m., my
golden retriever sits in the
middle of the kitchen, waiting
for his arthritis pill. It’s
his routine. Wouldn’t
it be great if at 9 a.m., every
day, your brain automatically
clicked into writing mode and
words spilled out onto the
page? It’s possible.
You just have to create a routine
in sync with your body’s
natural physiology.
Good
luck!
Rejections. They’re horrible.
Gut wrenching. Devastating. And
reading them is a complete waste
of your energy.
Or is it?
Sure,
when you first get your rejection
letter, describing in detail
what’s wrong with your
heroine, your plot, your writing
style, your hairstyle; your first
reaction is to go face down in a gallon of Moose Tracks
ice cream and come out five hours later.
But here’s
the trick: give yourself time
to throw your tantrum. Get it
out of your system. Drink your
red wine, eat your chocolate
(or even better, dip the chocolate
in the red wine), stomp around
the house, throw darts at the
publisher’s website, yes,
even shout back at the letter
if you have to.
Whew, once
that’s
over, play a game of “a
friend of mine just got this
letter and I need to help her
learn from it.”
I’m
not kidding.
And no, I’m
not drunk.
With a fresh,
objective eye, read it again,
considering each criticism as
a lesson. These rejections are
all your teachers, sharing insight
that will make you a better writer.
That said, please disregard the
letters that include comments
like “you
shouldn’t
waste anymore trees by trying
to write.” I call
these “diseased” and
they need to be destroyed so
the disease won’t spread.
Onto
a few lessons I’ve learned
from rejections.
Lesson
one: When an editor says “There’s
not enough conflict in your story” guess
what? There’s probably
not enough conflict in your story.
Remember, no conflict, no story.
Nada. Nothing. Conflict is, in
my opinion, the pulse that keeps
your story beating. A great reference
book on conflict is Deb Dixon’s “Goal,
Motivation, and Conflict.” (www.debradixon.com)
Lesson
Two: When an editor writes, “I’d
be happy to accept submissions
from you in the future” she
is not kidding and you’d
better send her something else.
Honest. Editors don’t have
time to be nice and make friends
with Amanda Author. They recognize
something they like when they
see it. If they see it in your
voice, and ask for it again,
send something.
Lesson
Three: Don’t take it personally.
HA! You knew that was coming.
Publishing is a business and
the goal is to make money. An
editor wants to buy authors who
are going to sell lots of books
and make the publisher lots of
money. Simple. You may not have
what they think will sell this
month, but six months down the
line, your writing will be that
much better and the tide may
have changed and they’re
suddenly looking for books like
yours.
Accept rejections as road signs
directing you to your ultimate
destination: publication!
© 2006, Pat White
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