While we wait for #PItchWars and #WriteOnCon results to roll in, I thought I’d let one of my favorite (GREEN!) characters of all time help me explain the writing process.
Enlighten you, we will.
So you’re struck with this awesome idea for a story. This story will be like none ever written before it. You must write this story because you owe it to mankind. It’s just that good.
New York Times Best Seller, you will be.
You grab your laptop, crack your knuckles and face the blank page. You can do this. You’ve done your research, checked your genres, calculated word counts, considered POV, planned your plot development. You’re ready.
It looks something like this:
You’re writing. You’re clicking away. You’re pulling words out of places in your brain that you didn’t know existed. It feels awesome. Like you drank the blue stuff in the Cantina.
Then somewhere along the middle of the manuscript, this happens.
And you think, “What I was I thinking? I can’t do this. Writing. Is. Hard.”
After a temporary freak out that probably involves chocolate, ice cream, or wine, you pull yourself up by the bootstraps. Somewhere deep inside you something urges you to keep going. The Force is strong within you.
So you keep writing.
There is no try, people. There is no try.
You’ keep at it. You show character growth. You increase the conflict. You even manage to throw in a love interest (that isn’t the MC’s brother.) You’re balancing it all like a pro.
Then somehow you manage to get to the place where you type THE END (Or actually ####### if you want to get modern). You did it.
Finished, it is.
So you hold your breath as you send it to your Crit Partners or Beta Readers. As the Force would have it, they return your MS with helpful notes and suggestions. (Or they breathe heavily into a black mask.)
Now it’s time to revise.
Revise, you do. And edit, and revise some more. You slash out filter words, you cut unnecessary scenes, you light saber the crap out of your little darlings.
Now your MS is ready to Query.
First you spend almost as long writing the Query letter as you did the MS. Then, you send it to unsuspecting agents with a prayer and unspoken plea to LOVE IT, PLEASE PLEASE LOVE IT!!!
Help me, Agent Awesome, you’re my only hope.
Then you get a rejection letter.
And maybe another.
And possibly a lot more. In fact, you start to think that there’s not a Tauntan’s chance on Tatooine that any agent will want to pick you as a client.
But one day. One, grand and glorious day, you get “THE CALL” from an agent who wants to talk about representation.
Gets your work, she does.
From there, it’s just a short trip in an X-Wing fighter to publication. And by that, I mean: revision, waiting, editor feedback, publishing house submission, waiting, more revision, marketing, foreign rights, more waiting, probably more revision, packaging, droids, and contracts.
And then your day arrives. The Ewoks are saved! Your MS is now a book.
Published Author, you are.
To my writing friends and Jedis: May the Force be with you.