I am so excited to have J.G. Lucas guest posting on my blog this week. Her book "Bright Aster" is one of the best books I have read all year. I would seriously read her grocery list, y'all (forgive the play on the line from "Fault of Our Stars", but it is true!). As someone who also was once a very sore looser this struck a cord with me and maybe it will with you too. Please enjoy this guest post.
- K. M. Hodge
(Wednesday Women Write)
- K. M. Hodge
(Wednesday Women Write)
Taking a Dive, for
My Writing (and My Sanity)
My brother used to
be a sore winner. He’s not now. He’s one of my best friends in
the world, now. But he used
to
be miserable to lose to, and he always won. I
used
to be a sore loser, and I always lost. (It might have been fairer to
start the story there, but it’s
my story. He
can tell it how
ever
he wants.)
Anyway, one day we
were playing racquetball together. I am slow and uncoordinated, and
he is not. He was kicking my butt and celebrating every point in the
obnoxious way only a 17 year old boy can manage. I was fuming and
indignant, sweaty and tired.
Suddenly, something
occurred to me: I didn’t
give a crap if I won or not. I never had, really. What a waste of
effort for something I was monumentally not enjoying. At the
realization, I started to have fun. I made ridiculous dives for balls
that had passed seconds before. I tripped, I spun, I swung at the
air.
“Oh fiddlesticks!”
I cried.
“Another point for you!”
I was no fun to beat
any more, and he gave up. He might
have
even laughed by the end of our time on the court. He certainly laughs
about it now. He always says I taught him a lesson that day. But
really, I was the one who needed the lesson.
Writing a book and
getting it out there takes a LOT of effort. If every moment of that
effort is monumentally not enjoyable, I’m
dooming myself to be that indignant, sweaty and tired loser, playing
a game I hate.
I feel really
fortunate to be writing at this moment in publishing. There are so
many options now, and so many ways to play. There used to be only one
way: Write your book, query an agent, if you manage to sign with an
agent, hope she could get you a publishing deal.
I know, because I
know me, that I would not have finished my first book under the old
rules. Once my characters starting introducing themselves to me, I
fell in love with them. I couldn’t
have allowed their story to play out knowing I was leaving their fate
to the dubious discretion of some dude in an office. I would have
been too disgusted.
It wasn’t
just the unlikelihood of the book being selected for publication,
what
with
its unusual genre (Magical Realism) and its female author (me). It
was the idea that IF my book was selected, someone else could change
these characters who had possessed me and were making my life so fun.
They wouldn’t be mine anymore, and I wouldn’t be theirs.
Someone in a dingy
office could reject them for who they are. Maybe an editor would have
a problem with two of my major characters being gay. Maybe someone
would want to clean up one of the characters’
cursing. Maybe they would want to take out my tiny tributes to
artists who have inspired me, James Hance, Doc Hammer, Frank Turner…
Writing query
letters and (eventually, if I was super, duper lucky)
battling with editors about my babies was NOT a game I wanted to
play. I conceded that point (goofily) to the industry. Not that it
cared.
There are other
games I have joined and taken a dive on, too. Trying to work
Facebook, trying to figure out Amazon rankings, keeping up with
Twitter. These are all tools that have their place, but it has become
clear that they are too saturated and arbitrary to make or break me
as an author.
I’m
taking my time now. I’m enjoying writing; I’m hiring good editors
and artists. I’m okay with not winning right away. I do like this
sport, and I’m treating it more like an endurance event than a
competition. The only score I have to beat is my own, and the only
way to win is to keep moving.
I have to learn,
train, try and fail, and try again. I have to keep enjoying myself
and celebrating my small gains. I have to, because writing these
stories makes me happier than almost anything else I’ve
ever done. And I intend to keep it up. I once trained for and
finished a marathon.
This feels like that,
and I know I can do it. (Oh
yeah, that was 26.2 miles. Take
that, racquetball boy! Just kidding. Love ya, bro.)
About
J.G. Lucas
I’m
a
writer with an accidental cat infestation (three), and a house that
is attacking my spirit. I enjoy mangling words to make them do things
they’re not supposed to do, and I’m currently using that
proclivity
to write a
the Bright Aster series in
the genre of Magical Realism-ish.
Wonderful post and some good lessons to learn! Maybe I will learn then one day, too ;) In the meantime, I will continue to love your writing and your characters, and wait for each opportunity I have to read your work. It may well be a marathon. But it's one I know you'll finish... And win.
ReplyDeleteOh, 1TR, you are the wind beneath my wings. Thank you, thank you, and thank you. For your kind words, and for you!
ReplyDelete