The Most Important Writing Resource: You

A new local bookstore, Purple Fern Books, has a lovely display of my books.

This week at the SFF Seven we're asking: What is the most useful resource you have for writing?

Usually with this sort of topic, we talk about reference materials or computer programs. I think this time I'll riff on last week's topic, which included an array of really good advice on self-care and avoiding burnout. I'm thinking about this because one of my Unpopular Opinions is that writers really don't need Stuff. It's one of the lowest overhead creative enterprises there is. Yeah, okay, to submit or publish work, a writer needs access to a computer at some point. That's the world we live in. But no writer actually NEEDS a fancy program or reference books or, or, or...

There are only two necessary resources for writing: a way to put the words down and ourselves.

I mention this because, in our quest for great tools, we tend to forget that WE are the critical component in the equation, the limiting reagent in the magical, chemical reaction that is bringing a book into the world. And yet we don't always treat ourselves as the treasure we are. Imagine if you had a laptop as expensive as the single-use body and brain you were gifted with. How much would you baby that laptop? Do you treat yourself that well?

I think my most useful resource is a rested body and quiet mind. Do I always go the lengths I should to make sure I'm running at top operating condition? Not always - but I try. I often get in bed around 8 or 8:30pm, if I'm sleepy enough, because getting plenty of sleep is key for my ability to sustainably create. Do people sometimes think I'm weird and crazy for doing that? Yep. Do I care? Nope. It's easy to let other people push and pull us to suit their ideas of how we should be, but we are the only ones who know what we truly need. Treat yourself as that expensive, delicate, and precious resource that is most important for your writing and see what happens. 

Jeffe's Three Joys

 

This week at the SFF Seven, we're talking joy!

As in, three things that give us joy. As many of you know, I'm a big fan of making decisions based on what will yield the greatest happiness. Thus choosing the happy means a lot of things in my life bring me joy. But I'll try to keep it finite.

1. Shiny new books
   While Christmas shopping yesterday, I bought myself a present - this Fairy Atlas! It's technically a children's book, but it has a lot of cool stuff in it from around the world that I'd never seen, and I love the illustrations. Perfect for what I'm writing now! And it looks pretty on my desk.
   
   
2. Friends
   I'm so blessed in the community of my wonderful friends, many of whom check in on me daily and remind me of what's important. From friends who've been part of my life for years to people who entered my world in just this past year, I am rich in companionship of simply amazing hearts and minds.
   
   
3. My profession
   Like any career, being an author presents its trials and it can be easy to focus on the difficulties, but this kind of poste offers an opportunity to step back and truly appreciate that I am able to wed my passion, my avocation, with my vocation. Making my living as a writer is a tremendous privilege and the realization of lifetime goal.

I am so blessed. 

 

What were you supposed to be?

There’s a tweet circling on the Internet that reads:

Going as Former Gifted Child for Halloween and the whole costume is just gonna be people asking “What are you supposed to be?” And me saying “I was supposed to be a lot of things."

That joke always hits home for me. I, too, was supposed to be a lot of things, and none of them was an author.

The list of my intended vocations has expanded over the course of twenty years of school and studies, and includes but is not limited to: professional musician, mathematician, archaeologist, architect, airplane technician, historian, forensic researcher, translator and dolphin trainer. (If that looks like a broad range of interests, I must note that my sister was even more creative: she insisted in kindergarten that her dream job was to be a roadworker).

The idea of being a writer never really made it onto the list of possibilities until a few years ago. Which is remarkable, considering I have been writing since I was old enough to hold a pen and not draw on the walls with it.

I was always the daydreamer of the family – couldn’t fall asleep at night because I was too busy working out elaborate plots, couldn’t walk into a museum without exclaiming “I’m going to use this for a story!”, and always carried a little notebook around to jot down names and interesting thoughts as they came to me. And my parents were not at all unsupportive. My father read my first (and utterly terrible) full story and sat down with me to discuss how I might improve it. My mother gifted me her old laptop so I could spend more time writing. But when I suggested at ten years old that I was going to write a book and earn money with it, they kindly replied that while it sounded like a fun idea, things didn’t really work like that.

I was a good kid; I listened to my parents. So I filed writing under the category of “impossible” and focused on a variety of other career paths.

Oddly, putting food on the table was not a concern ever mentioned when I eventually ended up majoring in the field of Comparative Indo-European Linguistics. If that sounds unfamiliar to you, it’s for a good reason: studying languages that died out thousands of years ago is not the kind of activity that makes the headlines. Nor does it earn anyone a lot of money.

It's respectable, though.

And that, I’ve come to realize over the past few years, was the main thing that held me back even when all I truly wanted to do was get these words out onto the paper, to get these characters out into the world – the idea that writing is somehow not a “real” career. Real adults don’t have jobs that require them to have conversations with imaginary people. Real adults sit in offices and do stuff with spreadsheets and talk about the weather. Somehow, somewhere in my life, I picked up the notion that writing is a choice to be ashamed of, that all that endless daydreaming isn’t something that should be indulged, let alone encouraged.

And if I’m honest, I’m still not entirely sure what eventually made me challenge that thought. Part of it was meeting other people who wrote their stories and seemed to be surprisingly sensible in spite of that. Part of it was discovering the indie book world and realizing there might be money to be made with words after all. Part of it was, unfortunately, being unhappy enough for long enough that I had no choice but to do some serious thinking about what I wanted in life. The answer, unsurprisingly, was that I wanted to write much more than I wanted to be respectable.

So I started publishing.

It doesn't yet make me a lot of money; it might never be more than a rather time-consuming part time job. I’m fine with that. It’s not the idea of earning a fortune with writing that’s made me so much happier since I started this business. Rather, taking myself and my stories seriously for the first time in my life is what has made all the difference.

And that's the one piece of advice I would give every writer struggling with the very respectable expectations of their parents or partners or past selves: take your own wishes more seriously. It’s not always easy and it’s not always fun, but it’s definitely easier than keeping those words bottled up inside.

If you're a writer, you know. And if you have stories to share, I don’t think there’s anything else you’re supposed to be.

Lisette Marshall is a fantasy romance author, language nerd and cartography enthusiast. Having grown up on a steady diet of epic fantasy, regency romance and cosy mysteries, she now writes steamy, swoony stories with a generous sprinkle of murder.

Lisette lives in the Netherlands (yes, below sea level) with her boyfriend and the few house plants that miraculously survive her highly irregular watering regime. When she’s not reading or writing, she can usually be found drawing fantasy maps, baking and eating too many chocolate cookies, or geeking out over Ancient Greek.

Find her at https://lisettemarshall.com/.

Putting Food on the Table™ and Other Wise Advice for Aspiring Novelists

This week at the SFF Seven we're discussing what we were supposed to be - the vocational advice young writers get because writing doesn't put food on the table™.

I really loved KAK's epic tale from yesterday (for some reason Google has decided I'm not allowed to comment anymore), in part because I am also not the author who Always Wanted to Be a Writer.

Not because I didn't love reading and writing - I always, always did! - and I even won a poetry contest when I was eleven or twelve and I wrote poetry (really bad poetry) all through high school. I contributed them to the high school literary magazine, anonymously because I was a weenie. I took AP English and my teachers praised my stories and other writings.

But, dear reader, never did one person suggest that I become a writer. Nobody ever thinks that a career as a writer will put food on the table™. To be fair, it generally doesn't, and it takes a long time to get there, unless you hit the literary equivalent of the lottery. Like all the pretty aspiring actors from the Midwest arriving in Hollywood on the bus, very few of us become superstars. Most of us get really good at waiting tables

Sometimes, though, I wish someone had suggested that as a career for me. Instead, like KAK, when I was told I could be or do anything, those suggestions shaded toward other careers. Science! Medicine! Biology! While I greatly appreciate that so many adults in my life recognized my strengths in the STEM areas and encouraged me to apply myself, I regret that I didn't direct some of that application to writing.

See, when I was headed to college, there was a scholarship offered for someone in English/Literature. You had to write an essay and the winner got... I don't even remember. Free ride? Fame? Glory? I can't even remember, but I wanted it. I had this idea of surprising everyone with my sudden literary talent. So, even though I was enrolled as a pre-med student, I wrote an essay for this scholarship in the lit department.

Now, my mom and I had this back and forth then, where she HATED that I put off schoolwork until the night before. I was a terrible procrastinator - something I had to change about myself in becoming a novelist - and I'd gotten pretty good at gliding by on last-minute efforts. That's what I did on this essay, whipping it out in a frenzy and I still thought it was brilliant.

And someone else - let's call her Brienne Merritt - won the scholarship. You can Google her. She's beautiful, blonde, athletic, intelligent, talented, and she won MY scholarship making her the ideal nemesis for a young me. I'm not tagging her because we aren't friends and never were, though we have a lot of mutuals. I kind of doubt she even knows I exist. I was that gal at the party in Say Anything that comes up to Ione Skye and babbles on about how their competition made her work harder and Ione finally says, "me too!" just to be polite. Brienne was busy doing her own awesome thing and never knew that I thought about her, and think about her still.

(I notice that Brienne is now a nurse, which makes for a funny reversal.)

Anyway, the advice I did get, that was the best vocational advice I received, came at the end of college from my Comparative Religious Studies advisor, Professor Hadas. I was trying to decide between many post-college paths and interests - medical school, it turns out, was not one of them - and he told me to stick with science. 

I know, right? Basically the same as everyone had been telling me all along, but he had wise advice along with it. He advised me to pick a career (and post-graduate education) that would put food on the table™. He told me I was fortunate to have strengths in areas that people would pay me to work on. And that having that income security would give me a foundation to continue to learn and grow, to follow my more esoteric interests. 

It was truly good advice. 

Three Things I Did to Sustain a Full-time Writing Career

The audiobook of BRIGHT FAMILIAR is now available! And GREY MAGIC in audio will be out very soon!! 

This week at the SFF Seven our topic is: Being a full-time writer – is it your dream? How do you pay for life and write, too?

In this instance we're defining "full-time writer" as someone who doesn't have a day job or other paying occupation that competes with writing. Most of us - unless we marry money or inherit a trust fund - continue to work jobs even after our first books are published. Sometimes for a LONG time after that. For myself, I continued to have essentially two careers for just over twenty years after my first publication. 

I worked in environmental consulting while all the while carving out time and energy to write. I kept waiting for my writing income to match my day-job salary - even not figuring in benefits! - and it never got there. Eventually life made the decision for me: my primary project got axed, our team dissolved, and I was laid off with decent severance. 

And, as it was absolutely my dream and my goal, I made the decision to try to have only one career at that point. 

It hasn't been easy! KAK's post from yesterday about being exacting with a budget is super important. This is especially true if, like her, you have only yourself to count on for income. Or if, like me, you are the primary breadwinner for your family. When authors give advice on managing finances as a full-time writer, it behooves you to pay attention to what other financial help they have. It might not be a trust fund, but having a spouse with a steady salary (and benefits!) goes a long way. Other authors live on retirement income or other, similar sources. 

So, how have I done it? 

1) Meticulous budgeting. 

As much as I can, I budget a quarter at a time. Writing income is volatile and, unless you're making buckets of it, you can't count on being able to pay the bills with income from a single month as you can with a regular paycheck. As KAK mentions, you can't figure your disposable income by simply subtracting your expenses from that month's income. You may need that "leftover" money for next month, or the month after. The financial gymnastics require creativity and flexibility.

2) Tracking sales

Data is everything! You can't afford to be only a dreamy creative. You have to wear your business hat and crunch the data from your royalty reports. You have to be ready to be stern with yourself and pay attention to which efforts generate income and which don't. You may find you can't afford those passion projects if your writing is what puts food on the table. OR, that you can afford them only if other projects are paying the bills.

3) Self-Publishing

If writing income is volatile, then income from traditional publishing has the lowest evaporation temperature. It comes, it goes - often on an annual or semi-annual basis. Quarterly is likely the most frequently you'll get paid, and every royalty check is a surprise! Again, unless they're cutting you BIG checks, it likely won't be enough to live on. This is why so many trad-pubbed authors also teach or have other side gigs. Self-publishing provides monthly income. Yes, it fluctuates, but you can also track sales and predict how much money will arrive in two months. Taking the surprise out of the equation helps immensely! You're also not subject to the whims of traditional publishing on a number of levels.

Those are three practices that have helped me manage a career as a full-time writing with essentially no other income. The other, quite obvious step, would be to make buckets of money and never have to think about budgeting again. 

Maybe someday!

What I'm Glad I Didn't Know When I Decided to Become a Writer

This week at the SFF Seven we're discussing what we wish we'd known when we decided we wanted to write.

It's an interesting question, and a fraught one. I first decided that being a writer would be the perfect career for me back in 1993. That's almost 30 years ago, so it isn't easy to think back to that younger self. At the time, I was completing a Ph.D. in neurophysiology and confronting the bald truth that I didn't really want to be a research scientist. I sat myself down, meditated, and asked the question: if I took away all the if's and's and but's, what would be the ideal life.

No one was more surprised than I was to hear that the answer was to be a writer. But I also knew it was a true answer and that, if I wanted to be happy, I had to do whatever it took to make that come true.

So, I cut bait on my Ph.D., got a Masters and a job as an editor/writer to start building my chops. I took night classes from visiting writers. I began writing, something, anything.

What do I wish I'd known then? It's tempting to say I wish I'd known how long it would take before I truly began earning a living as an author. My conception then of how long it would take was absolutely the largest lacunae of ignorance in my hopeful moonscape. I thought it would be a couple of years, not a couple of decades. I totally thought I'd hit it big. I thought my steady progression of successes, for which I am grateful, make no mistake, would have a steeper upward trendline. 

And yet... I'm actually glad the younger me didn't know how protracted that effort would be, how studded with setbacks and pitfalls. Had I known, would I still have done it?

I don't know.

Sometimes I think our ignorance at the outset of an ambitious enterprise works in our favor. Ignorance truly can be bliss, especially when it allows hope to flourish, hope that carries us through the difficult times. 

Maybe what I really wish I'd known back when I made that decision is that it was the right one. But then, I knew that anyway. 

2021: A Good Year for Me

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is: "It's Been A Year: Pandemic Year 2, Vaccines, New Political Administration, has it affected your writing? Better? Worse?"

I confess, this has been a good year for me. As James discussed on Monday, it's been a huge relief to me to have sanity in the White House again. Yeah, there's a lot of political stuff that's still not where I'd like it to be, but it's so much better than it was. I feel like we're at least working to solve the problems we're facing rather than digging ourselves deeper. 

I'm really happy we got vaccinated early in the year, too. My hubs and I took the opportunity to drive to Amarillo, TX to get ours. (A four-hour drive each way.) We got our second dose by March 8. That was an amazing, once in a lifetime experience (I hope!), knowing that sheer, sweet relief of being vaccinated against COVID-19. It restored a sense of safety and wellbeing that I'd missed for pretty much exactly a year.

Also, I'm one of those who became more productive in my writing during the pandemic, largely because I wasn't traveling, I think. I talk about this a lot, but having a daily writing habit carried me through even the worst of the anxiety. That habit is the foundation that allows everything else to be stable. I know this can be aggravating to people who can't write every day for various reasons, but I'm such a huge believer in the magic of ritual and building a habit that carries you through the rough patches. Still, I say this as a writer who spent many, many years not being very productive. 

This is way better.

So, though we're only 84% of the way through the year so far (and yes, I'm counting today, since it's morning for me), I'm calling it a good year for me. In particular, I'm thrilled by this graph of my income from royalties and book sales. As you can see, 2021 has been my best income-from-writing year ever, and that's with two months to go. It also doesn't count income from other sources, like teaching workshops and author coaching. 

I'm really proud of myself for the work I put in to make this happen.

How about you all - are things looking up in your neck of the woods?

The Pain and the Glory of Publishing

 

At the SFF Seven this week we're asking: What are your favorite and least favorite things about publishing?

How much time have you got?

Okay, okay - the question implies one of each, so I'll go with that, starting with the negative so I can finish on the positive.

Least Favorite Thing

The uncertainty. 

The uncertainty, she be a bitch. Unless an author really strikes gold, the uncertainty never goes away. And I'm talking serious gold here, not gold-for-a-season. I'm talking million-dollar sales. And even then, there's no guarantees. I'm thinking of a couple of authors who struck serious gold, have made millions and millions of dollars on a particular book or series, then can't sell anything else. This happens surprisingly often with phenoms. Whatever it is about that one book or series that attracted the phenom lightning, it rarely happens again. In some cases, where it was the idea that attracted the lightning and the writer themselves isn't all that great - or doesn't push themselves to grow - the likelihood of them penning another book that anyone but the most die-hard fan wants to read is super low.

For other authors, working away at their productive word mines, it's difficult to know what the next day or next year - or next decade! - will bring. There's no corporate ladder, no particular career path, no salary or benefits. Publishing is a fickle beast and I hear regularly from my author friends, some very successful, who hit rough patches and worry about the future of their careers. The ones who survive are ready to reinvent - and to be flexible and diligent in their efforts.

I'll be frank: a lot of them can't take the uncertainty and give up. It's not a career for someone who wants certainty and security.

So, why be a writer at all? Well, that's... 

The Favorite Thing

Writing for a living.

Seriously, it's the reason we put up with the rest. I've had other jobs and a nearly twenty-year career in another profession, and being a writer is the absolute BEST. It's amazing being a creator and the font of something that I alone bring into existence. From there other people can also have jobs, but I am the origin. The money I make is from my own self, not derived from someone else's thing, and that's an incredible experience. 

It kind of comes around to the risk/opportunity ratio. Yes, there's a lot of risk and uncertainty, but there's also an equivalent or greater measure of opportunity. Because there is no corporate ladder or career path, it's all up to me to create. And I love that. I love that all the meetings have to do with something I'm passionate about, that the phone calls are about me and my work. I'm serving my own creation and not someone else and that, my friends, makes all the rest worth it.