Hi all, and a huge welcome to 2018,
The sun set on 2017 with me in desperate need of a creative recharge after a busy year of writing, editing, querying and travelling. When you’re a mother of three juggling work-from-home commitments with a family life reminiscent of an out-of-control octopus, the brain can feel a little fried come December – especially when you top off your year with a NaNoWriMo 50,000-word burst. Just to add more to an already full plate.
Sorry to complain but, come December, I felt that I’d done a bloody lot of work with minimal result, other than a spreadsheet of queried agents for one manuscript (not to mention 50,000 words requiring major editing for the next).
You see, there was the querying for my completed YA novel. I’d extensively researched the publishing industry and picked agents I believed (and still believe) to be the best fit for my story. I’d prepared query letters specific to each agent, detailing why I was querying them, and had sent accompanying manuscript pages to those who preferred them. I’d received some partial and full requests for my manuscript, much to my excitement, and had promptly sent them off.
Fast forward to today: I’ve yet to hear back from several of the agents who requested my material, even after a polite follow-up many months after it was sent. Other agents have responded, all with a pass, but many with comments that implied I was close, soooo close. Two commended me on the strength of my writing, asked if I was working on anything else, and followed that up with a request to read my next work when it is ready. Positive stuff. But still a pass so far for my queried manuscript.
As the end of the year loomed, I sat back and thought about all of the work I had done in 2017 and on what had, and had not, come to pass. So to speak.
And I realized something.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t enjoying my writing. I wasn’t having fun. Why? Because my year had centered around output: what I produced, how much I produced, how many agents I queried. Yes, I’ve had many stories and feature articles published, but I yearned to be a published novelist. Writing became a pursuit of this goal, a goal I have yet to attain. It simply became work. And all work, no play, does not a happy writer make.
I remembered writing the first draft of my YA novel. I’d head to the library or cafe with no preconceived ideal of what I would achieve, not in terms of word count or completed scenes, not in terms of viability and publishing. Although I had an outline, I wrote the detail of my story from the well of inspiration that bubbles to the surface once words start to form on the page. I wrote for sheer joy. (Actually, most of my published work to date has been written from this place.)
I missed that experience.
And I realized something else. I wasn’t reading half as much as I used to – between researching and querying, there was little time for that. And I LOVE LOVE LOVE reading.
So I decided to take two months off, two months away from my self-imposed treadmill. Other than a couple of blog posts, I have not written ANYTHING since November. Or queried any more agents. I’ve done other things – celebrate Christmas, for a start, and take an interstate family trip. Things that remind me I am not only a writer.
And I’ve read. And read. And read. I’ve read a stack of novels, for the first time or the second, for fun or to examine. I’ve read writing books and taken notes on key points. I’ve also consolidated agent comments, and pinpointed areas in my writing to strengthen. And bookmarked upcoming conferences and workshops to help rectify weaknesses as well as build on my existing writing community.
I’m reminding myself what I love about writing.
I’m doing all this as, at the end of the day, any book of mine that is published is nothing without ME. It’s nothing without someone who relishes what she has created, who is confident in what she has created, and who enjoys the process of creating it.
When the sun rises on February, I’ll return from my self-imposed exile. I’m reinvigorated. I feel I’m ready. And I plan to have fun.
I hope you have fun, wherever your creativity takes you,
P.S. Apologies – this post is longer than most, but it was important to say 🙂
Have you ever taken a break from your writing or other creative pursuit? Why did you take it, and was it beneficial?