Friday Fricassee

I think I'm in denial that it's actually July already.

So I'm feeling all clever today (well, not really, but I'm trying).  As such, I've got an analogy that will hopefully offer you a bit of encouragement along the bumpy way.

PART ONE: A story from Authoress's childhood:

One summer morning when I was 10 or 11 or 12, I joined a pick-up game of baseball with a group of neighborhood friends at the playground.  Our diamond was an overgrown field with makeshift bases made out of tee-shirts and such.  And, yeah, I was totally out of my element.  Me, the quintessentially non-athletic, artsy girl.  Right?

Yet--wonder of wonders--I hit a single! I made it to first, exulting in my success and tensing to run to second if the next batter made a hit.  And she did!  I took off toward the second baseman, because I couldn't see second base in the tall grass.  I slowed, looking frantically for the wadded-up shirt.  It was nowhere.

Desperate, I called out to the second baseman, "Where's second?"

He didn't answer.  Well, why would he?  He was on the other team.  So I stood there, mortified.  Idiot of the century. Artsy girl, failing at baseball in front of everyone.

Then I ran home.  Didn't look at anyone, didn't say anything.  Just took off as fast as I could go.

I quit.  And I still feel the shame.

PART TWO: A story from Authoress's recent vacation:

My vacation was awesome, but I experienced a sprinkling of Really Dumb or Mildly Upsetting things that might've derailed my joy, if I allowed them:

• DUMB THING:  I forgot to pack my bathing suits.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Here I am, preparing for a week at the shore, and I remember every last detail EXCEPT my bathing suits.  You can imagine the severe stomach droppage when I realized, while getting ready to change for the beach, that the suits weren't there. And that I had no memory of having packed them.  Needless to say, it was a terrible start to my week at the beach.
• MILDLY UPSETTING THING:  I lost one of my favorite necklaces, which was a birthday gift from Mr. A.  Didn't even realize it had slipped off my neck until I was ready to take my shower that night. It could've fallen off ANYWHERE.  And it was a unique necklace, made by a local artisan.  Gone forever, somewhere in my favorite beach town.
• DUMB THING:  My nose got sunburned because I forgot to put lotion on it. And I fretted over it for days, until it finally faded. Because who wants to go to New York to meet her agent with a PRACTICALLY MAGENTA and PERPETUALLY MOLTING nose?
• MILDLY UPSETTING THING: I lost my sunglasses.  Which isn't upsetting anymore, because I bought myself a new pair yesterday, and I like them better.
• DUMB THING: When Mr. A went to get the car and bring it to the apartment so we could pack up and leave on the last morning, the battery was dead. Because we'd accidentally left a light on inside the car. And we had no jumper cables. And it was seven in the morning and, well, who the heck is awake in a beach town at seven in the morning, except kitchen staff and the occasional, odd writer who likes to be on the beach at 6:30 to plot? (Who, me?) And we had to be out of the apartment by ten. In the end, we had to pay $68 for someone to come jump it for us. Like we really had $68 lying around after a week at the shore.

None of these are earthshattering, right? But an accumulation of not-earthshattering-but-not-happy-either things on vacation could, in fact, derail the vacation. Turn it into a "meh" memory instead of an awesome one.

Here comes the analogy:

All sorts of REALLY DUMB and MILDLY UPSETTING things happen while we are journeying along toward publication.  No one outside the industry understands WHY these things could derail us, but our fellow writers understand.  And shudder.

• DUMB THING: We misspell an agent's name wrong in a query email--and hit send.
• MILDLY UPSETTING THING: We receive a rejection on a partial from one of our Top Three Favorite Agents. On the same day our husband gets laid off.
• DUMB THING: We receive the in-line notes on our WIP from our favorite crit partner, only to discover we've sent her the wrong draft.  An earlier, sloppier one. That should have been burned.
• MILDLY UPSETTING THING: Our best writing buddy lands an agent and a book deal in rapid succession while we're still slogging through query hell.
• DUMB THING: We accidentally re-query an agent who has already rejected us, and the response is somewhat snarky (yeah, it happens).
• MILDLY UPSETTING THING: Our family gives us a hard time when, during the holidays, we just need a few hours to curl up somewhere, ALONE, and write. We feel perpetually misunderstood.
• DUMB THING: We don't put enough postage on a requested, hard copy full (which, yanno, agents shouldn't be asking for anymore, anyway...right?).
• MILDLY UPSETTING THING: We get interest in our novel from an editor at a good house, and it dies in committee.

I could go on ad nauseam.  But you already know the point I'm making: There are SO MANY THINGS that could derail us. I've been nearly derailed countless times.  My response is always a silent, "I will quit and not tell anyone."  That's exactly where I was when Josh was reading my full last August, and I was certain it would be another no-thank-you.  And as I lay on the floor staring at the ceiling (I do things like that), planning my quiet quitting, something different happened instead. I started planning my next novel.

"Press on" can begin to sound hollow, but you've got to do it if you want to succeed. Through all the dumb things and mildly upsetting things and even the occasional REALLY upsetting thing, you HAVE TO KEEP WRITING. Keep learning. Keep trying. Keep getting back on your feet. Keep BELIEVING.

You know I'm right.  I know I'm right.  So let's collectively stop whining or fretting or grumbling or despairing or quietly-planning-quittage, regardless of where we are along the way.  Because GOOD THINGS HAPPEN when we keep going.

Not being able to find second base was a DUMB THING. But I allowed it to become a crisis, and ran away instead of demanding the location of second base (I mean, you're supposed to be able to see the bases, right?).

Forgetting my bathing suits was a DUMB THING. But I didn't run away from the beach.  I ended up with a bathing suit AND a tan (which is fading, because who has time to sunbathe after three weeks away? I mean, the DUST in my house took on a life of its own while I was gone!).

And this writing thing? I'm in it for life, baby.  How about you?