EPIPHANY FROM THE DIET WARS

Last summer I decided it was time to get serious about a slimming regime (aka a diet) that I could incorporate into my lifestyle and maintain long-term. Three years ago, my husband totally changed his diet from a horrorshow of unhealthy fare to low-carb, non-processed, sugar- and starch-free nutrition. As a result he lost 50 lbs and has kept if off ever since. Although I lost weight and gained energy on the same foods he ate, it wasn’t as much and I often let myself stray.

I tried to analyze why I had a much harder time losing and maintaining than he did, besides his being a guy, and I concluded there was a major difference in how we respond emotionally to “diets.” For a slimming diet to work for me, I need hard, fast rules so I don’t have to make judgment calls. He, however, is miserable with rules and does better with an eating philosophy, especially if it’s one he formulated for himself. Once I discovered the right combination of rules and choices for me, I managed to get to my goal within a few months.

This epiphany got me thinking about writing. Over the years I’ve attended lots of how-to writing workshops—how to plot, how to add tension, how to market yourself, how to write a bestseller. The best instructors tell you upfront “This works for me. It may or may not work for you.” Others, however, are happy to inform their audience, “This is how you do it and it works if you do it this way.” And when it doesn’t work for me, does that make me a bad writer/person/student? Nope. Someone else’s rules will not make anyone a great writer. True, learning craft is essential, but without the je ne sais quoi of inspiration and hard work it only goes so far.

In my daily life I use rules to avoid spending mental energy on mundane decisions, but in my creative life I know I have to fashion my own path and not be afraid to try a bunny trail now and then. As craft becomes more automatic with experience, I try to focus on freshness, originality and emotional impact. At times I give myself permission to write crap knowing my laptop has a delete key that will be used liberally on the next draft. That's fine. To quote Nora Roberts, "You can't fix an empty page." And some of the very best writing breaks a whole lot of rules.

How about you? Do you like rules, guidelines, boundaries, or are you more comfortable with limitless freedom to do whatever strikes your fancy?

THE HELP – The Long and Winding Road to Publication

With movie version of THE HELP highly visible during this awards season, I thought about its road to publication. When I read Kathryn Stockett’s story of writing THE HELP  and finding an agent, I was awed by her tenacity and faith in her story. My own luck in connecting with my wonderful agent seemed miraculous by comparison. As I read, however, I was struck one paragraph in particular:

“After rejection number 40, I started lying to my friends about what I did on the weekends. They were amazed by how many times a person could repaint her apartment. The truth was, I was embarrassed for my friends and family to know I was still working on the same story, the one nobody apparently wanted to read.”

I’ve been working on a manuscript for over four years. Sure, it’s been out on submission for a few months, but I re-wrote the story three times and revised extensively many, many more. I don’t even count the initial drafts or all the editing along the way. When I signed with my agent two years ago, I never imagined I had two major re-writes and a lot of revising to do before she was confident it was ready for submission. And all that time my friends and family kept asking if I’d sold my book yet. Even the other writers in the local RWA chapters looked at me askance when I said I was still re-writing.

While I didn’t go so far as to lie to my husband and sneak off to write, I was embarrassed that I was still working on That Story. As much as I believe in what I wrote, I avoided talking about it with everyone except my critique partner and my husband because I was sure the world was bored hearing about a novel that never seemed to be finished. It didn’t matter that it was “finished” in my mind a half dozen times. I understood that until it sold, my writing would never be more than a time-consuming hobby to my friends and family.

Kathryn Stockett’s success is an inspiration to any aspiring author. But for me, the feelings she had and the long, lonely journey she was willing to make—and share with the world—reassure me that the only failure is giving up on something you truly believe in and love. I'm not giving up on my writing and one of these days I may even mention to friends that I’m working on a follow-up story. Or maybe not.