Write Anyway

Having declared myself a “writer” about 20 years ago, I’ve since enjoyed a couple of minor successes. With a few short stories, essays and articles, one novel and half another under my belt, I dream constantly. I want more. I want to see a novel I’ve written … no, actually, I want to see a whole series of my novels on an actual bookstore shelf, on the New York Times best-seller list, on the cover of Publishers Weekly or, heck, even in the “just released” section of the local library. Recently, I was reminded why none of these dreams have yet materialized.

This past week I attended the 2009 Bouchercon, the world’s premier annual orgy for lovers of the mystery genre. It took place for the first time in Indianapolis, where more than 200 published writers and more than 500 fans flocked for a love fest that maybe rivaled Woodstock. After mingling, listening, talking with and observing writers, I’ve done a lot of thinking. I’m convinced that there’s only one simple act that separates me and a highly successful, famed and revered published author: Doing it.

Although I consider myself a conscientious, purposeful doer, I whine that after spending my weekends running errands, cleaning the house, doing laundry, paying bills, shopping, surfing the Internet, answering email and catching up on my movie watching, there’s no time left to write. But you know what? The published author has responsibilities and finds a way to write anyway.

I bellyache about having to work eight hours a day, drive more than an hour to get to work and more than an hour to get back home. I also sleep eight hours, spend an hour with my dad each evening, take an hour and a half each weekday morning making myself presentable for work and spend at least a half-hour winding down before heading to bed each night. But the published author does these things too and still manages to write anyway.

I use up numerous vacation days each year seeking out ever-more sage advice by published authors at exciting writers conferences, as well as spending untold hours poring over the latest books on writing. But the published author plops her butt in her chair, pulls from her life experience, confidence, talent and determination and gets the job done anyway.

I spend months revising my manuscript-in-progress in an effort to make it perfect before moving on to the next chapter. The published author writes and keeps writing, fully aware that there will be time to make revisions once the entire story that’s swirling in her head is committed to ink on paper.

After that, the published author has the nerve to actually send her manuscript out to agents and editors in an effort to sell it. If the thing comes back with a rejection letter, she doesn’t crumble into a heap and declare herself a failure. She sends it out again. And again. And again. And again. Fifty times. Eighty times. A hundred times. If that manuscript doesn’t sell, she uses what she learned from the experience and writes another one.

The 2009 Bouchercon provided a marvelous opportunity for mystery-writer wannabes like me to rub elbows with real-life, published, working writers who were once struggling wannabes too. While getting up close and personal was exhilarating, I must confess that the high point of the event was the revelation that there’s only one difference separating me from them: They all have busy lives and distractions, but they write anyway.

And so now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve procrastinated long enough. I have a ton of crap that I should be taking care of. But I’m going to write anyway.