Shirlee McCoy's Blog, page 4
August 17, 2010
Did You Think It Was Going To Get Easier?
So, here's what happened.
On Saturday, I dragged my butt out of bed at six so that I could be at THE MEETING by seven so that I could step on the SCALE and be found acceptable or NOT based on whatever number the scale spewed out.
So, I stepped on the scale. It spewed out a number. The cult WW leader said, "Wonderful! You had another good week."
And, I said, "No. I didn't. It was a hard week.Every week, I come here, and I think...next week will get easier. But it never does."
And this woman, this trained enthusiast, this constant source of inspiration and never-ceasing you-can-do-it attitude said, "Did you really think it would get easier?"
I looked at her with what must have been absolute horror, and I said, "Yeah. I guess I did, but I guess it doesn't."
And we both laughed, but I wasn't laughing inside.
Because I WANT it to be easier.
Seriously, Saturday was my 25th Weight Watcher's meeting, and I have lost over 46 pounds. Shouldn't it be easier?
Probably, if you came here to read about writing, you're wondering where I'm heading with this.
Well, friends, here is the deal. I've written eighteen books for Harlequin. Eighteen books. Now, I've launched myself into book nineteen, and I'm thinking, as I plod through one page after another, shouldn't this be getting easier?
I mean, in some ways it is. I understand the flow and feel of a story much better than I did when I began. I get it. I know how to create a story out of an idea, how to create likable (usually) characters, how to write chapter one, the end and everything in between.
Yep. That has gotten easier.
The other stuff has not.
I still struggle to balance my two very diverse roles. On the one hand, I am the traditional stay-at-home mom. I've added a twist to that by homeschooling my clan, but, in all other respects, I am the woman who cooks and cleans (sometimes) and does the laundry (usually) and scrubs toilets (yuck) and bakes cookies.
On the other hand, I am Shirlee the author. I have deadlines and copy edits and AAs and art fact sheets. I go to conferences and I try to connect with other writers. In the past couple of months, I've talked about the writing process at an elementary school, talked about achieving life goals at any age at a senior luncheon and talked about fulfilling dreams at a community college GED class. I love what I do, and I am passionate about it.
But it has not gotten easier, this balancing act. It is not a simple thing to stay on track with writing and while maintaining quality time with kids and husband and friends.
Maybe that is what it is all about, though. Not the destination, but the journey.
And this is my journey. Tough as it may sometimes be. Challenging as I might sometimes find it.
Does it get easier once you're published?
In some ways, yes. In others:
Did you really think it would?
On Saturday, I dragged my butt out of bed at six so that I could be at THE MEETING by seven so that I could step on the SCALE and be found acceptable or NOT based on whatever number the scale spewed out.
So, I stepped on the scale. It spewed out a number. The cult WW leader said, "Wonderful! You had another good week."
And, I said, "No. I didn't. It was a hard week.Every week, I come here, and I think...next week will get easier. But it never does."
And this woman, this trained enthusiast, this constant source of inspiration and never-ceasing you-can-do-it attitude said, "Did you really think it would get easier?"
I looked at her with what must have been absolute horror, and I said, "Yeah. I guess I did, but I guess it doesn't."
And we both laughed, but I wasn't laughing inside.
Because I WANT it to be easier.
Seriously, Saturday was my 25th Weight Watcher's meeting, and I have lost over 46 pounds. Shouldn't it be easier?
Probably, if you came here to read about writing, you're wondering where I'm heading with this.
Well, friends, here is the deal. I've written eighteen books for Harlequin. Eighteen books. Now, I've launched myself into book nineteen, and I'm thinking, as I plod through one page after another, shouldn't this be getting easier?
I mean, in some ways it is. I understand the flow and feel of a story much better than I did when I began. I get it. I know how to create a story out of an idea, how to create likable (usually) characters, how to write chapter one, the end and everything in between.
Yep. That has gotten easier.
The other stuff has not.
I still struggle to balance my two very diverse roles. On the one hand, I am the traditional stay-at-home mom. I've added a twist to that by homeschooling my clan, but, in all other respects, I am the woman who cooks and cleans (sometimes) and does the laundry (usually) and scrubs toilets (yuck) and bakes cookies.
On the other hand, I am Shirlee the author. I have deadlines and copy edits and AAs and art fact sheets. I go to conferences and I try to connect with other writers. In the past couple of months, I've talked about the writing process at an elementary school, talked about achieving life goals at any age at a senior luncheon and talked about fulfilling dreams at a community college GED class. I love what I do, and I am passionate about it.
But it has not gotten easier, this balancing act. It is not a simple thing to stay on track with writing and while maintaining quality time with kids and husband and friends.
Maybe that is what it is all about, though. Not the destination, but the journey.
And this is my journey. Tough as it may sometimes be. Challenging as I might sometimes find it.
Does it get easier once you're published?
In some ways, yes. In others:
Did you really think it would?
August 10, 2010
In, Out, and In Again (or...So, You Think You Want A Writing Career)
I've decided that there is a difference between being a writer and having a writing career.
When I am just being a writer, I write stuff like this, or this. I write because the words are there and because I can and because it's fun or cathartic.
When I am working as a career author, I write because I must. That is not to say that I don't want to, but simply that sometimes I must force myself to. Words don't always flow freely when a writer must write. Sometimes, pulling words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs and paragraphs into chapters is as painful as pulling a tooth that isn't loose.
The thing is, if a person wants to have a career as a writer, she must learn the art of beginning, following through and ending.
That seems so basic and simple, but it is not. It is very easy to begin something. Ideas (at least for me) come like sunshine in the desert. Words, though, words must be crafted into scenes that transcend page and ink. Once the idea is born, it must be babied and coddled and raised into a fully developed story.
And, then, it must be patted on the head and sent out into the great wide world.
In comes the idea.
Out it goes.
In comes the next (yep, that's my new contract!)
Out it goes.
Over and over and over again.
And that means writing and writing and writing, people. Whether we're in the mood or not. Whether the kids are grumpy or not. Whether there are piano recitals and ballet shows and homeschool field trips and cat vomit on the floor or not.
We must write.
Because we want to. Because we can. Because we're being paid to.
A career means a job. No matter how much of an art writing is (and, believe me, it is), if we want to have careers we must work every day.
In with the idea.
Out with the words.
In with the next idea.
Out with the words.
That's the way it works, if we want to have careers as writers.
When I am just being a writer, I write stuff like this, or this. I write because the words are there and because I can and because it's fun or cathartic.
When I am working as a career author, I write because I must. That is not to say that I don't want to, but simply that sometimes I must force myself to. Words don't always flow freely when a writer must write. Sometimes, pulling words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs and paragraphs into chapters is as painful as pulling a tooth that isn't loose.
The thing is, if a person wants to have a career as a writer, she must learn the art of beginning, following through and ending.
That seems so basic and simple, but it is not. It is very easy to begin something. Ideas (at least for me) come like sunshine in the desert. Words, though, words must be crafted into scenes that transcend page and ink. Once the idea is born, it must be babied and coddled and raised into a fully developed story.
And, then, it must be patted on the head and sent out into the great wide world.
In comes the idea.
Out it goes.
In comes the next (yep, that's my new contract!)
Out it goes.
Over and over and over again.
And that means writing and writing and writing, people. Whether we're in the mood or not. Whether the kids are grumpy or not. Whether there are piano recitals and ballet shows and homeschool field trips and cat vomit on the floor or not.
We must write.
Because we want to. Because we can. Because we're being paid to.
A career means a job. No matter how much of an art writing is (and, believe me, it is), if we want to have careers we must work every day.
In with the idea.
Out with the words.
In with the next idea.
Out with the words.
That's the way it works, if we want to have careers as writers.
