Look.
This is my farewell post for this blog. I've started repeating myself and I'm going to move on to a new less-Lesli-centric blog. (Not quite up and running, but it will be www.onceuponascotland.wordpress.com )
But before I go, let me just sum up what I've been trying to tell you since 2007. The only way to get past whatever it is you think is blocking your ability to write, is to take action. Write. Write crap you'll toss in the rubbish bin later. Write a list of things your character really hates. Write why you hate this blog, or anything else. Just as long as you write! Losen your typing muscles and your own writing goals will insert themselves while you're trying to remember where the q is, without looking down.
If you've spent a couple of years studying the craft, there comes a time when you should stop studying and start applying. If you've written a piece of crap and need to figure out how to fix it, pick up some books and start experimenting. Get off the internet and work.
If you thought writing a novel would merely be a long drawn out version of your free verse class, you were wrong. It's work. Back breaking, tendon swelling, sleep depriving work. Don't want to do it that way? Then go back to writing free verse and leave real writers alone. Don't come to our parties, our conferences, or our bbqs and claim to be one of us.
(If you are one of us, then by all means, come. Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we publish!)
So do what I always tell you to do. Piss, or get off the pot.
We writers are funny creatures. We're suckers for other writers. Need help? Just ask. We're full of all kinds of free advice and brotherly love. But if we smell a faker, we're going to pinch our noses and point at the culprit. Every time. Don't want to smell like a faker? Make a schedule and write at least a few times a week. We're not Nazis. We're artists. Some of us write pure crap, but it's not from a lack of trying. We're like nurses; a fart is as good as a bm. It's all about the trying.
And on that happy note...pthththththththththt!
Showing posts with label Piss or get off the pot.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Piss or get off the pot.. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Time for the "Life Is Short" Speech!
Yo.
Life is short.
One of my favorite lines, for obvious reasons, is from Shawshank Redemption.
"Either get busy livin', or get busy dyin'."
You think you'll still be around next year?
What if you're not?
Life is short.
Yo.
Life is short.
One of my favorite lines, for obvious reasons, is from Shawshank Redemption.
"Either get busy livin', or get busy dyin'."
You think you'll still be around next year?
What if you're not?
Life is short.
Yo.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Piss or Get Off The Pot--Seriously
I'll be gentle for those readers just joining this blog...
If you wish you were a dancer, do you tell people you're a dancer, hoping that someday you can prove you weren't lying?
No.
If you wish you could be a rock star, do you tell people you are a rock star and hope, by some flick of a wand, you will suddenly become one?
No.
Then why would you tell anyone you are a writer if you do not write? Writing is the key. Actually hitting those keys on a regular (or regularly sporadic) basis will do.
Let me give an example.
I was enrolled in a screenwriting class a few years ago. We all decided we would write screenplays and enter them into a major contest. We all cranked out what we thought was a brilliant attempt, which was probably complete dark sticky piles of ****. We entered and got lovely loser letters with a raised little Oscar on the stationery. It was very exciting.
Some of us were all hanging out in an office during a Sundance Event being held downstairs, in the art gallery, when our professer walked in. A very popular movie producer walked in behind him, and everyone scrambled to get out of their way. I didn't recognize the guy, so I stayed where I was. Then a great thing happened that I will always remember.
The professer introduced me. "Lesli, this is So and So. So and So, this is Lesli Lytle, a writer."
It wasn't that I got to shake the guy's hand and he treated me well. It wasn't that we made small talk about Robert Redford. The thrilling part was being called a writer.
After Mr. Big left, I thanked the professer for calling me a writer and said he'd really given me a thrill. He frowned and said, "I wasn't pretending you were a writer; you are a writer. You don't have to have a Guild card to be a writer. You have to write."
I've introduced myself as a writer ever since.
So.
Are you a rock star?
Are you a writer?
So, if you are a writer, are you selling your material yourself? How's that going for you?
What about an agent? If you're not trying to sell yourself to magazines or publishing houses, you must be trying to find an agent to do it for you.
No?
WHY THE HELL NOT?
You don't think your product is ready? When will it be? You don't know? Then you'd better be finding out. Find someone to read your baby. More importantly, when you find someone willing to take the time to read a chapter or two, ACTUALLY HOLD OUT YOUR BABY AND LET SOMEONE TAKE IT.
It's not going to be your only baby, surely. And if it stinks, you don't have to spend the rest of your life feeding it and trying to make it a pretty baby. You get to start over.
Here's some great motivation for you to aggressively seek an agent:
Pretend I can tell the future. For you. Just for you.
What if I tell you that you will find an agent only after you have received 30 rejection letters/emails?
What if I tell you that you will be published only after you have written four complete novels?
Here's the promise:
After you have queried 30 agents, and after you have completed 4 novels, you will have a really good grasp on what you need to improve in order to land an agent. Finding a publisher is the agent's business.
And when I say four novels, I don't mean absolutely pristine, polished-like-a-brass-doorknob finished. I mean finished. It doesn't have to be the Holy Bible, or Lord of the Rings, or Pride and Prejudice. It has to be you.
Four books and 30 emails. The only way to fail is to give up--and you know it. That's why you say you are a writer, to deny that you have given up. If indeed you have given up, I say, piss or get off the pot. Admit it and make your life easier.
If you haven't given up, then you'd better get your query letter ready and a list of agents. Make sure your first three chapters are as good as you can get them, and give yourself a time limit to get that done. (As in a number of days, not weeks.) When time is up, you have to stop and say "good enough".
I want to hear about it.
(By the way, I got my agent with my second book, but by the time I signed, I had four books finished and thirty rejections in the can.)
If you wish you were a dancer, do you tell people you're a dancer, hoping that someday you can prove you weren't lying?
No.
If you wish you could be a rock star, do you tell people you are a rock star and hope, by some flick of a wand, you will suddenly become one?
No.
Then why would you tell anyone you are a writer if you do not write? Writing is the key. Actually hitting those keys on a regular (or regularly sporadic) basis will do.
Let me give an example.
I was enrolled in a screenwriting class a few years ago. We all decided we would write screenplays and enter them into a major contest. We all cranked out what we thought was a brilliant attempt, which was probably complete dark sticky piles of ****. We entered and got lovely loser letters with a raised little Oscar on the stationery. It was very exciting.
Some of us were all hanging out in an office during a Sundance Event being held downstairs, in the art gallery, when our professer walked in. A very popular movie producer walked in behind him, and everyone scrambled to get out of their way. I didn't recognize the guy, so I stayed where I was. Then a great thing happened that I will always remember.
The professer introduced me. "Lesli, this is So and So. So and So, this is Lesli Lytle, a writer."
It wasn't that I got to shake the guy's hand and he treated me well. It wasn't that we made small talk about Robert Redford. The thrilling part was being called a writer.
After Mr. Big left, I thanked the professer for calling me a writer and said he'd really given me a thrill. He frowned and said, "I wasn't pretending you were a writer; you are a writer. You don't have to have a Guild card to be a writer. You have to write."
I've introduced myself as a writer ever since.
So.
Are you a rock star?
Are you a writer?
So, if you are a writer, are you selling your material yourself? How's that going for you?
What about an agent? If you're not trying to sell yourself to magazines or publishing houses, you must be trying to find an agent to do it for you.
No?
WHY THE HELL NOT?
You don't think your product is ready? When will it be? You don't know? Then you'd better be finding out. Find someone to read your baby. More importantly, when you find someone willing to take the time to read a chapter or two, ACTUALLY HOLD OUT YOUR BABY AND LET SOMEONE TAKE IT.
It's not going to be your only baby, surely. And if it stinks, you don't have to spend the rest of your life feeding it and trying to make it a pretty baby. You get to start over.
Here's some great motivation for you to aggressively seek an agent:
Pretend I can tell the future. For you. Just for you.
What if I tell you that you will find an agent only after you have received 30 rejection letters/emails?
What if I tell you that you will be published only after you have written four complete novels?
Here's the promise:
After you have queried 30 agents, and after you have completed 4 novels, you will have a really good grasp on what you need to improve in order to land an agent. Finding a publisher is the agent's business.
And when I say four novels, I don't mean absolutely pristine, polished-like-a-brass-doorknob finished. I mean finished. It doesn't have to be the Holy Bible, or Lord of the Rings, or Pride and Prejudice. It has to be you.
Four books and 30 emails. The only way to fail is to give up--and you know it. That's why you say you are a writer, to deny that you have given up. If indeed you have given up, I say, piss or get off the pot. Admit it and make your life easier.
If you haven't given up, then you'd better get your query letter ready and a list of agents. Make sure your first three chapters are as good as you can get them, and give yourself a time limit to get that done. (As in a number of days, not weeks.) When time is up, you have to stop and say "good enough".
I want to hear about it.
(By the way, I got my agent with my second book, but by the time I signed, I had four books finished and thirty rejections in the can.)
Friday, January 8, 2010
No Country For Casual Writers
Wanna be a casual writer?
Wanna write when your muse takes your hand and gently guides you to a pen and paper because the breeze tickling your sheer drapes has kissed her cheek and brought her out of her deep sleep and she's ready to dictate the lovely dream she's been having?
Do you want to write when the stars are aligned at the same time your family leaves you alone in the house unexpectedly?
In ambitious moments do you make a writing schedule and celebrate when you hit your goal a couple of days out of the month? Or even spend more time blogging or emailing about your writing than you actually spend on the manuscript itself?
Then you are a casual writer. Nothing wrong with that. You probably enjoy your writing more than most; it is a gift, not a chore.
For those of you less casual about your writing, I don't know if you've noticed, but the writing industry has turned into a GAUNTLET. It's no longer a row of desks spread out in the middle of a field like archery targets where we stand back and try to lob our babies from afar, hoping the desk it lands on, or bumps into, is the desk of someone who will appreciate said baby and if they dont, we'll pick it up, dust it off, and lob it at the next desk.
The new GAUNTLET is a damned busy public transit stop in Asia with thousands lined up waiting for the next train, to shoot their bodies toward the doors as soon as they crack open regardless of the people who are getting off and making room for more. With enough effort, after all, the agressive new group can push them out the other side of the train.
And these gentle human beings are anything but. While they wait for that train, they've either got their heads down, nudging their way forward, looking for familiar faces with whom they might gang up and weild more power, or they're trying to thin the crowd. "I hear the next stop has short lines...why don't you try it?"
Sorry to say, that if you're trying to get on this train, you should bring thugs with you (fellow writers) and embrace the gang mentality (writer conferences). At least you'll have a better shot of survival when the excitement gets people pushed onto the tracks. Friends, if they haven't been turned by the smell of blood in the air (angels), can at least pull you back up on the platform.
And once you're on the train, you'll have to fight like mad to get away from those doors before they open again. Grab any handle and hang on for your life. And if your work stinks, there are trap doors that will dump you out between the tracks. For pity's sake, DON'T STINK! You want some editor or agent to take one peek at the manuscript under your arm, think you smell like money, and offer you a seat next to him or her.
Screw the soft breeze. It's a rough wind that accompanies the publishing train and you don't want your nightgown blown around like a doomed ship's sail pulling you toward those sharp iron wheels. The only legacy you'll leave behind is a youtube video of that stupid surprise on your face, just as you're going under.
Have I thinned the crowd a little?
No?
Good for you. See you at the station.
Ainsley, the world traveller
Wanna write when your muse takes your hand and gently guides you to a pen and paper because the breeze tickling your sheer drapes has kissed her cheek and brought her out of her deep sleep and she's ready to dictate the lovely dream she's been having?
Do you want to write when the stars are aligned at the same time your family leaves you alone in the house unexpectedly?
In ambitious moments do you make a writing schedule and celebrate when you hit your goal a couple of days out of the month? Or even spend more time blogging or emailing about your writing than you actually spend on the manuscript itself?
Then you are a casual writer. Nothing wrong with that. You probably enjoy your writing more than most; it is a gift, not a chore.
For those of you less casual about your writing, I don't know if you've noticed, but the writing industry has turned into a GAUNTLET. It's no longer a row of desks spread out in the middle of a field like archery targets where we stand back and try to lob our babies from afar, hoping the desk it lands on, or bumps into, is the desk of someone who will appreciate said baby and if they dont, we'll pick it up, dust it off, and lob it at the next desk.
The new GAUNTLET is a damned busy public transit stop in Asia with thousands lined up waiting for the next train, to shoot their bodies toward the doors as soon as they crack open regardless of the people who are getting off and making room for more. With enough effort, after all, the agressive new group can push them out the other side of the train.
And these gentle human beings are anything but. While they wait for that train, they've either got their heads down, nudging their way forward, looking for familiar faces with whom they might gang up and weild more power, or they're trying to thin the crowd. "I hear the next stop has short lines...why don't you try it?"
Sorry to say, that if you're trying to get on this train, you should bring thugs with you (fellow writers) and embrace the gang mentality (writer conferences). At least you'll have a better shot of survival when the excitement gets people pushed onto the tracks. Friends, if they haven't been turned by the smell of blood in the air (angels), can at least pull you back up on the platform.
And once you're on the train, you'll have to fight like mad to get away from those doors before they open again. Grab any handle and hang on for your life. And if your work stinks, there are trap doors that will dump you out between the tracks. For pity's sake, DON'T STINK! You want some editor or agent to take one peek at the manuscript under your arm, think you smell like money, and offer you a seat next to him or her.
Screw the soft breeze. It's a rough wind that accompanies the publishing train and you don't want your nightgown blown around like a doomed ship's sail pulling you toward those sharp iron wheels. The only legacy you'll leave behind is a youtube video of that stupid surprise on your face, just as you're going under.
Have I thinned the crowd a little?
No?
Good for you. See you at the station.
Ainsley, the world traveller
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Pucker Up, Buttercup!
Brace yourselves, Effies!
The reports from RWA's National Conference are going to be a mixed bag, and the bags are due home in a couple of days.
What do I foresee in the mix?
I suspect the usual report of writer's and VIP's trying to keep a stiff upper lip in the economy. I expect the true and worthy advice about making sure your product is absolutely perfect if you expect to sell in these choppy industry waters, and I expect some desperate celebrations on the popularity of romance novels in a depressed society.
But I am guessing that the real juice to be wrung out of the RWA National grapevine is going to make us all pucker.
Newbies are a tough sell. Newbies are going to be THE TOUGHEST SELL this year. It doesn't matter what you write, or how good you are, how many awards you win, or the ever-reliable 'who you know'.
If you are a newbie, with no publishing numbers to set of the mousetrap, you're going to be laying in wait for the dumb luck of a mouse/agent stumbling and flying onto your cocked, but empty trap. And if you get lucky enough to have her at your mercy for a few seconds before she sets off again in search of negotiable cheese, you'd better have a big voice and something pithy to say.
So, my advice to you, before you hear it firsthand, is to brace yourself for bad news, determine whether or not you have what it takes to TAKE THE MOUSE BY THE BALLS, or go the other route and find a palatable exit strategy.
It can all be summed up with one of my favorite lines from The Shawshank Redemption, "You gotta get busy livin', or get busy dyin'."
To those of you queuing up for the River Stix Tour, I bid you a fond farewell. To those of you who decide to stand upon the battlements with me, I've got your back.
Ainsley
The reports from RWA's National Conference are going to be a mixed bag, and the bags are due home in a couple of days.
What do I foresee in the mix?
I suspect the usual report of writer's and VIP's trying to keep a stiff upper lip in the economy. I expect the true and worthy advice about making sure your product is absolutely perfect if you expect to sell in these choppy industry waters, and I expect some desperate celebrations on the popularity of romance novels in a depressed society.
But I am guessing that the real juice to be wrung out of the RWA National grapevine is going to make us all pucker.
Newbies are a tough sell. Newbies are going to be THE TOUGHEST SELL this year. It doesn't matter what you write, or how good you are, how many awards you win, or the ever-reliable 'who you know'.
If you are a newbie, with no publishing numbers to set of the mousetrap, you're going to be laying in wait for the dumb luck of a mouse/agent stumbling and flying onto your cocked, but empty trap. And if you get lucky enough to have her at your mercy for a few seconds before she sets off again in search of negotiable cheese, you'd better have a big voice and something pithy to say.
So, my advice to you, before you hear it firsthand, is to brace yourself for bad news, determine whether or not you have what it takes to TAKE THE MOUSE BY THE BALLS, or go the other route and find a palatable exit strategy.
It can all be summed up with one of my favorite lines from The Shawshank Redemption, "You gotta get busy livin', or get busy dyin'."
To those of you queuing up for the River Stix Tour, I bid you a fond farewell. To those of you who decide to stand upon the battlements with me, I've got your back.
Ainsley
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