I have a terrible confession to make

The horsie moves funny and can jump over people.

 

This is me. I've started a couple of stories, written maybe a thousand words when inspiration strikes, and then have a hard time coming back to it. My inspiration usually strikes at about 1 a.m. as I'm drifting off to sleep, which doesn't help.

I've also found that I get a little self-conscious when I try to write fiction. My professional training is to keep 95 percent of my stories to 800 words or less. I can certainly expand off of that and write a good, long feature, but even those typically top out around 2,000 words by necessity.
So when I try to dive into fiction writing and ponder plotting, painting a scene, giving some exposition, etc., there's a voice in my head telling me to dial it back and get to the point instead of running with it and building a little world. It's probably OK to spend 5,000 words in a book just building to one scene, but it's hard to break that mindset.
For those who have written books, how do you get over that?

 

Try writing first thing when you wake up. Lots of those dreamtime inspirations are still floating around. Grab 'em.

For a novel, work from an outline - even if it's only the general contours of what happens to whom and how. And maybe try writing in units or modules rather than thinking of one long project. It's very hard to imagine in its entirety a novel of 100,000 words. It is much easier to think of a scene that's 200 words long. So write that scene. Then the next. And the next and the next. Eventually you'll have that novel.

Writing in units is an easy way to divide up a big imaginative project. It's also a handy mechanism for editing, in that you can move things around much more easily.

So if your head has been trained all these years to write nonfiction in units of 200 words or 500 words or 750 words, let those be the units of your fiction, too.

But don't forget, fiction is more than novels. It's short stories. And short-short stories. It's whatever length the material can bear. If you think of a terrific 250-word story, write it.

Believe me, there's a place to publish it.

Writing fiction is mostly the act of getting out of your own way.

Think less. Write more.

And good luck to us all.

 

I agree with @Azrael 100 percent about breaking a big project down into its smaller parts. The scale of a book is just so different from what most of us are accustomed to writing, it can be overwhelming if you think about the whole thing too much. Of course, you do want to think about the whole thing, at least in the beginning, so you know the shape of it, but day-to-day, I try to focus on my word quota or writing a particular scene as well as I can. Every now and then I'll stop to consider an entire chapter or the structure of the book, but usually I do that on a day when I'm not writing.

 

There has been some discussion of book money on the John Rocker thread, which I thought I might try to talk about here. I fear that it will come off as bragging. It shouldn't, because it includes quite a few unkind confessions about myself. I hope it's helpful. That's what I mean for it to be.

I've written about this experience before, but when I first signed a book deal, it was when I was just starting out, maybe 24 or 25. As someone mentioned on the John Rocker thread, a lot of people want to write a book so badly, they might do it for less than they're worth. That was me. I signed a two-book deal, because in my mind that meant the publisher would have to publish a second book. It was like a guarantee that I would get write another one. I signed a deal for $15,000 for both.

I wrote the first book, really quickly and not very well. Tried to slam it in between my usual writing, like a mechanic going home to work on his car. I didn't get a ton of editing, and the copy editor was garbage in hindsight. (The mistakes were my fault, but he also got paid to catch them.) It came out filled with typos that still bother me and sold exactly 712 copies. It is not very good. I sweat a little when I think about it.

It did, however, help me get better journalism work. One part of the book-writing calculus is the book itself. Another part is what simply having written a book might do for the rest of your career. It separated me from other writers my age, and it was proof that I could write at length, however badly. It definitely helped. How much, I'm not sure. It's hard to measure what that might be worth.

Because my career took off a bit, so did my reputation, and so did my worth. I was approached by another, much bigger publisher to write a book. (Everything I'm talking about here is non-fiction.) The advance was mid-six figures, huge money for me.

But I'd signed a two-book deal with another publisher.

Long story short, I had to pay my original publisher $30,000 to get out of my contract. So writing that first book cost me money. It was worth buying myself out, but man, that sucked large. So here are three very important lessons from that time:

1) Just because you really want to write a book, don't let a publisher prey on that desire. Books are a lot of work, and that work is worth money.

2) Never sign a two-book deal.

3) Always have an agent. I didn't at the time. I sure as shit do now.

I wrote my second book. It was much better than my first, but I still don't love it. Again, I tried to write it around my other writing, and I think that's probably a mistake. I get that it's a necessity for a lot of writers, especially if you're writing your first book for not a lot of money. But ideally, if you're writing a book, that's your job. You treat it like a job. You're disciplined about it. And you do better work because it's your sole focus. You make something that you can be proud of.

4) Try to make the book the centre of your working existence, not a side project. That's backward. Other writing should supplement the book.

Because I was struggling to find the time to write it, I didn't enjoy the process of writing very much. (I normally really enjoy writing.) The problem there is that it means you're putting all of your hopes on how the book is received, which is the one part of the process you can't really control. A book is so much work anyway, if you hate writing it, you're never going to be rewarded in a way that makes the fight feel worth it. That book, the publisher approached me, so it wasn't my idea. I liked it well enough, but I wasn't in love with the subject the way I should have been. I wasn't excited to sit down to work on it. That feeling that it was a chore rather than a labour of love coloured the whole project. And when the book came out and did okay, not great, it felt like it wasn't nearly worth the stress that it had caused.

5) Only write a book if you love the idea. If it consumes you. If you think about it at night.

6) Try to enjoy the process of writing the book. If it's well received, that should be a bonus. It shouldn't be the only way for you to feel good about what you've done. You should feel good because you did good work.

I didn't do another book for years. Oh, I signed another book contract, low six figures, took the money, started work on it. But I struggled to get the necessary momentum. Missed several deadlines. The book was about sports history in some ways, and the history changed. Which meant the book wasn't relevant anymore. Which meant I'd wasted a lot of time as well as my publisher's time. Which also meant that I had to give back the advance. At least I hadn't spent it. I'd stuck it in the bank. Which makes me a genius.

7) Hit your fucking deadline.

8) Don't spend your advance, or spend as little of it as possible, until you deliver the book.

(By the way, advances are usually divided into thirds: upon signing the contract, upon delivery of a manuscript, and upon publication.)

I was then approached by a subject of mine to write his book for him. I'd never ghost written, and I can't say I've ever loved the idea of it. But I liked the guy, and I liked the idea of working on a book without the pressure of being totally responsible for a book. It was his book; I'd just be helping to write it. He wasn't in a position to sign a contract, so I started working on the good faith that we'd sell the book when he could sign a deal. I'd get 20 percent of his advance. (I had no doubt that the book would sell. He's famous.)

I wrote about 20,000 words. For most of that process, he loved the book. Then he decided he hated the book. We had it out. He fired me, basically. He wrote the book with another writer, who I'm sure took a far lesser percentage. But he got an advance of $5 million in the end. So that stung.

9) If you're going to be a ghost, sign a contract, and make sure you're working with a good person.

At that point, I decided I'm done with books. Too much heartache. Too much work. Good money, but not a fair trade. Fuck that shit. But I also didn't want to keep my day job. So, um, I needed to make some money.

Then I get approached, within the space of two weeks, to write two books. (Both offers came through my excellent agent. See Lesson 3.)

One, another ghost writing project, which is the book I'm writing now. Having learned Lesson 9 all too well, I made sure that I love the person I'm writing with—I do—and I didn't write a word until I'd signed a contract. Wrote a proposal (which is quite a lot of work—don't underestimate that, and we can talk about that process if anyone wants) and my subject's agent brought it out to market. Bidding war, seven-figure deal. Jackpot. Fuck you, other guy who fucked me.

10) Writing books is like any other kind of writing. Some people make no money. Some people make a little money. Some people make a lot of money. Maybe you'll be the one who makes a lot of money. You won't know until you try to sell it.

The second book, a publisher read a story of mine which gave him an idea. I love the idea. But I already nave one book on the go and told him: I want do the book, but I can't do it right now. Will you wait for me so that I can do it right? (See Lessons No 4, 5, and 7.) I think in a weird way he was more impressed than disappointed or jealous. Publishers are investing in you, and they want to know you care. He gave me an extra year—and some extra money. Mid-six figure advance.*

(*My feeling is that a good non-fiction proposal of national appeal, sold to a New York publisher, will earn six figures or close to it, and possibly much more than that. And because we're talking about at least two years of work, it should.)

11) Don't over-promise or over-commit. Make sure your publisher knows that you're going to give your all to his or her project. You expect to be paid and paid well, but you're going to earn that money. This is what's known as being a professional.

I am now essentially a full-time writer of books. I'm also screenwriting. I no longer have a "job" in any real sense. I am very happy with my working life. I'm 44, and it's probably taken me this long to reach the point when writing long—really long—makes sense for me. I feel confident in my work and my worth. After a lifetime of doubt, that has a value to me beyond measure.

I know a lot of people on this board have had similar career and personal struggles and still have the desire to write. I hope you get the same chance.

12) Wait until the time is right.

13) It can be a slow build.

14) It's worth the wait.

15) You can do this, too.

 

Um, sorry. I didn't meant to write a book about book writing.

 

Great insight. The sizes of your advances are a little larger than I would have thought. I got $50K and thought I was rolling in it. At the time, I had never made $40K in a year. And I was a columnist.)

I’m tapping away on a phone right now so my patience to post is limited. But for now I will add that I agree with you on: (1) An agent. Best 15 percent you’ll ever spend; (2) A proposal. Mine was 50-60 pages, I think, and included a chapter-by-chapter summary. I doubt I stuck to it, but it showed I had skin in the game already, a plan; (3) I wish I had treated it more like my only job. It wasn’t my nature at the time. If I’m not doing 10 things at once, I feel like a slacker. Silly. I’m not that way now.

I never got to see if it would help my career, because by the time it was published, I was well along onto another career path.

 

Typefitter is right in everything he says here. Print that and tape it up next to your computer if you are a writer of books making your start.

He and I are very fortunate. We found ways to make a living writing. That's becoming harder and harder to do. As so many folks here know.

But I'll remind everyone reading this - as I remind my students when I'm teaching - no one can stop you from writing, ever, no matter what you do for a living.

Drive a truck, run a forklift, sell restaurant equipment. Doesn't matter. There's always an hour in the day for your book or your poem or your story.

Every writer I've ever known has at one time or another sustained themselves with a straight job.

If you need to write, you'll find the time to do it, no matter how you earn your living.

Again, good luck.

 

For the first time in my career I am not making my living as a writer, and that has spurred my personal writing in unforeseen ways. All the mental and linguistic energy I used to expend as a journalist or a blogger is now focused in one direction. I wish in some ways I’d found a job outside of writing and editing earlier. But the job I have now is not a job I could have gotten without the experience I garnered over the years.

 

I fucking love this site.

 

Well that certainly fits perfectly with the thread title.