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 |