Some of this describes so well my own experience, it's funny. It's a relief in a way that I wasn't alone in my feelings.
Which is most of the reason to post it <g>.
I never realized how easy it could be to fill 700+ manuscript pages.
Me too :/. I've finally figured out, some umpteen hundreds of thousands of words later, that I really really really have to stomp on viewpoints if I want to keep things at a reasonable 150,000 words. My current universe doesn't support this.
The first novel I finished was the first novel I sold. No trunk novels. This was bad in a way--I think I would have felt more confident knowing that I could formulate multiple universes with their own distinct casts of characters.
CJ Cherryh said, when she was GOH at a convention in Toronto, that it's sometimes harder to have success come too quickly (she was thinking of both myself and another writer friend she knows); that in her day, she would wait by the mailbox for those initial rejections that contained no information whatsoever, and that in the end, enduring the whole rejection and isolation made her toughen up enough that the rest of the publishing process wasn't so deadly. Except, of course, she said it better, with humour and a certain wry wisdom I don't have.
Each time I start a book is like the first time for me. I know I've done it in the past, but I still wonder whether I will be able to pull it off one more time. It's been getting harder, not easier. A friend told me that this is because one expects more from oneself, that one has learned more about the craft and thus raised the bar.
This is me. This is very me. This is so much me it's almost shocking <wry g>. Right down to the advice from friends...
... but sometimes I still need the reassurance that I can write lucid sentences.
I keep hoping that I get over that, but I'm not holding my breath.
Me either -- because this is me, as well. I usually reach a point at the beginning of the book where I know that this is the beginning. Of course, it's varied -- it could be my first attempt or my 12th (in the worst case), and I could have spent 6 pages or 600 (in my worst case) -- but at this point in my career, a little alarm goes off that says Right Here, and at that point, I usually pass it on to the spouse for vetting.
In the middle, though, each and every book has been the Worst Thing Written by Man. Or me. Or both. It's the book that will kill me. It's the book that no reader of mine will ever forgive me for. It's the book that will cause them all to say "I waited two years for this??" My husband is so used to this, he plugs his ears. If it helps, I have another friend who is exactly the same, and we make fun of each other where appropriate, but gently <wry g>.
It's only when I've hit that end stretch that things run, and I almost can't stop the book. But... I wasn't sure that SC had a good ending, and, since I've been thinking about it, I'm wondering if that wasn't part of the anxiety and the strain. I know endings. I may not know anything else, but dammit, I know when my endings work. And if I don't have that sense of certainty... blarg.
Mind, it's the only thing I'm certain about for the most part, and even then, my spouse says I waver.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2004-08-20 09:00 pm (UTC)Which is most of the reason to post it <g>.
I never realized how easy it could be to fill 700+ manuscript pages.
Me too :/. I've finally figured out, some umpteen hundreds of thousands of words later, that I really really really have to stomp on viewpoints if I want to keep things at a reasonable 150,000 words. My current universe doesn't support this.
The first novel I finished was the first novel I sold. No trunk novels. This was bad in a way--I think I would have felt more confident knowing that I could formulate multiple universes with their own distinct casts of characters.
CJ Cherryh said, when she was GOH at a convention in Toronto, that it's sometimes harder to have success come too quickly (she was thinking of both myself and another writer friend she knows); that in her day, she would wait by the mailbox for those initial rejections that contained no information whatsoever, and that in the end, enduring the whole rejection and isolation made her toughen up enough that the rest of the publishing process wasn't so deadly. Except, of course, she said it better, with humour and a certain wry wisdom I don't have.
Each time I start a book is like the first time for me. I know I've done it in the past, but I still wonder whether I will be able to pull it off one more time. It's been getting harder, not easier. A friend told me that this is because one expects more from oneself, that one has learned more about the craft and thus raised the bar.
This is me. This is very me. This is so much me it's almost shocking <wry g>. Right down to the advice from friends...
... but sometimes I still need the reassurance that I can write lucid sentences.
I keep hoping that I get over that, but I'm not holding my breath.
Me either -- because this is me, as well. I usually reach a point at the beginning of the book where I know that this is the beginning. Of course, it's varied -- it could be my first attempt or my 12th (in the worst case), and I could have spent 6 pages or 600 (in my worst case) -- but at this point in my career, a little alarm goes off that says Right Here, and at that point, I usually pass it on to the spouse for vetting.
In the middle, though, each and every book has been the Worst Thing Written by Man. Or me. Or both. It's the book that will kill me. It's the book that no reader of mine will ever forgive me for. It's the book that will cause them all to say "I waited two years for this??" My husband is so used to this, he plugs his ears. If it helps, I have another friend who is exactly the same, and we make fun of each other where appropriate, but gently <wry g>.
It's only when I've hit that end stretch that things run, and I almost can't stop the book. But... I wasn't sure that SC had a good ending, and, since I've been thinking about it, I'm wondering if that wasn't part of the anxiety and the strain. I know endings. I may not know anything else, but dammit, I know when my endings work. And if I don't have that sense of certainty... blarg.
Mind, it's the only thing I'm certain about for the most part, and even then, my spouse says I waver.