Since the SCBWI grant and what it might mean to me is still on my mind…
I want to go on record as saying that none of the editors I’ve ever met at conferences have treated me like a cold virus. They actually have all been very kind and warm and helpful. And I would encourage all writers trying to get published to go to as many conferences as they can afford.
It’s just that I’ve been around for several years now and I’ve done a lot of watching and thinking. And I, being able to do basic math, can see that there are a lot more writers than there are open spaces on the bookstore shelves.
And I’ve also seen a lot of people who aren’t very good writers, hounding editors, trying to convince them that they are good writers.
I suspect that to the editors, the sea of unknown faces, all look like hound faces. I think they might assume you can’t write, and then wait for you to prove you can. The opposite of the “innocent until proven guilty” deal. Because, let’s face it, most writers at conferences think more highly of their writing than they ought. It’s an occupational hazard. You have to have a certain amount of confidence to put your bloodied manuscript out there for people to snicker over.
What’s more, I’ve seen writers, over and over, jump on the first agent or editor who gave them an offer, and later regret it. They’ve rushed. Been published too early. Not sold well.
When I started out I had a desperate mindset. I thought, “I’ve written a novel, it’s better than a lot of other junk that is selling, it’s ready, someone sign me up.” I went to conferences to be discovered.
The last few conferences I’ve had a whole different attitude. I am not desperate anymore. I love my work. So much that I don’t care if it’s ever discovered, really. It can’t hurt me to hold it close to home, because it’s not written for publication–it’s written because I’m enjoying it.
I hope someday to find an editor who will love it, get it, and help me make it way better. I’d love some day to share it with thousands of readers. But I don’t feel a desperate need to make these things happen.
So, when I got the call from SCBWI I couldn’t even remember which grant I’d applied for or which manuscript I’d entered. I’m that relaxed about the whole journey these days. (For one thing, my husband died last year and after your husband dies, everything else falls into perspective. Publication is cool but not the be all and end all of existence.)
I’m different now than I was four years ago when I took my first completed book to a conference hoping to find a buyer. More confident and more humble at the same time, if that makes sense. I’m a better writer now. I’m happier with my stories. I like them and I don’t really care who rejects them. So I’m more confident than I was back then. But I also can look back at how good I thought I was–how ready I thought I was–and see how wrong I was. I had a lot to learn–about writing and about publishing. That humbles me. I’m aware that I still have a long way to go and will have room to grow until the day I die.
The great thing about being more relaxed about the whole process, is that you feel a lot better, and you can kick back and enjoy the journey. There’s also, ironically, a great side benefit. It makes you more attractive to editors, too. Someone–I wish I could remember who–said at a conference recently, “Nobody wants to date the desperate girl.”
I love that line.