~ September 12, 2022 ~
“Returned from the ACFW conference a couple days ago. Where to begin? Such a friendly meeting of strangers. So much kind wisdom shared with me. I’m thankful for the grandmas, mothers, and especially a few brothers I met and got to know. We had our enclave at an event predominantly attended by women.
“Much as I enjoyed the conference, a persistent pressure was on me for days leading up to it. I had walked on clouds at the Realm Makers conference because I was merely a sponge, no appointments, just learning. This time, there were high stakes as my first pitch appointment was on the docket. I prepped all I could, but these things never go like you expect.
“Boy, did it not. He tore me down and built me back up in 20 minutes. But hey, that’s 5 bonus minutes, so that’s something, maybe. Hard criticism and high compliments. I took some time to reflect privately, and made notes of what I could remember while it was still fresh–even the parts I didn’t want to hear.”
Ah, my dear brother, a father-figure in Christian fiction, never will I forget that appointment. I was lucky to get it, and heard from several others there who’d tried and didn’t get on his schedule. It was just first come, first served, nothing I earned. But I kept that in mind and didn’t take it for granted. It helped soften the blow, thankfully, for a blow it was.
Have you ever labored over something for years, putting in the time and making improvements, being your own harshest critic, then finally bring forth the “finished” product, only to be judged as an amateur? I had decades in the writing game by this time and felt more prepared than most. I’d even changed some book titles based on what I’d learned recently about the industry and marketing (changes my son was not pleased with). Lo and behold, even my titles were under attack. One was too religious, another wrong for the genre and “just weird.”
I’m reminded of Tolkien. He was 45 when he published The Hobbit in 1937. He insisted on publishing The Silmarillion next, which is quite different in almost every way from his first book (I love it, but many don’t). His publisher refused, so he sought another which eventually refused as well. Returning to his original publisher, he yielded, letting go his dream of publishing The Silmarillion, and told them he’d work with them to publish “any of this stuff” they were interested in. That’s why nearly two decades passed before his second book came out. His publisher chose The Lord of the Rings, which Tolkien wanted published as a “stupendously long” single volume. Another impasse arose. It was too risky paying to print such hefty books if it was unsuccessful.
(A Gutenberg, world’s first printing press)
Yielding again, Tolkien allowed them to break it up into a trilogy to reduce risk and printing costs. The publisher provided the three book titles, and it was many years before Tolkien referred to this work as a trilogy, insisting for the longest time it was The Lord of the Rings, a single volume split into three parts by others.
The Silmarillion was not published in his lifetime, though he labored on it long before the The Hobbit and long after The Lord of the Rings. His son published it for him posthumously in 1977, four years after he died.
Life’s not a fairy tale. If such a legendary writer’s journey was so rocky, should I expect no less?
Writing is solitary work, but publishing is a business. Collaboration is critical for success. I think that may be one of the biggest hurdles for writers. I suspect the majority are type A perfectionist control freaks (ahem). At some point, you’ve got to bring it out and let others take a crack at it.
It takes bravery to expose oneself to criticism, and humility to make use of that criticism. He was a professional, a veteran, while I was an unpublished writer at my first pitch appointment. It was par for the course, and actually went better than those of several others I spoke with later on and tried to encourage. As my day unfolded there at the conference, I changed from being offended to being open. He told me bluntly in the meeting that I needed to hear the off the cuff reaction of someone unfamiliar with the project, and he was right. I considered new titles. I should mention he loved the first one. It was the other two that didn’t fit. He suggested building on the first one so they would all be more connected.
In between times that same day, I mulled titles. A new one for the second book revealed itself. And a possibility for the third, though I wasn’t settled on it. One at a time. I wanted to get his take on the new title for book two, but I’d never get the chance.
Or so I thought.
At the awards ceremony that night, I walked in early to find a seat. I started my own table at one of few that didn’t have reserved seating. He walked right up to me and asked, “Is this seat taken?” What an honor. He’d had appointments with many others. Why not sit with one of them, whose proposal he’d accepted? Didn’t he have a reserved seat somewhere?
However it came to be, it was a blessing. The table filled in with him, another agent, bestselling authors, debut authors winning awards that very night–and me. I’ll take it. I was just glad to be there, nobody or not. Food was excellent.
And yes, much as I wanted to chicken out, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I came out of my shell and told him my idea for a new title for book two, while the whole table listened in. His reaction was awesome. “Perfect! I love it. It’s got a violent sound to it, and it’s biblical.” He even suggested a possible title for book three, which was the one I’d been considering. So that sealed it–new titles for the sequels settled.
Fast forward to this year, when I thought the development of my titles was over. I’m not changing them again; God used that first pitch appointment and that industry veteran’s wisdom. But I had to take something into account in the course of editing book three this year. I commented to my editor that a line in the book had been the working title for many years, and my son liked it better than the new title. Her response was, “Oh, dear. We might need to listen to your son. I love the current title, but . . .”
Life is fun, isn’t it? I’m always trying to get everything just so, signed, sealed, permanent, perfect. God is always stretching me, showing me new things, asking me to yield. So again, I open myself to collaboration, praying over it all. I learned long ago that if this endeavor is to come to fruition, I must invite others to put their fingerprints on it.
Is it hard for you to allow others a say in your efforts? Perhaps you’re naturally team-oriented. If not, if you’re like me, I encourage you to welcome the ideas and talents of others, inviting them to your cause, giving them their due, and incorporating their contributions. It’s not been easy, but as I look back now on the state of my books years ago, they’re vastly improved. It started with my wife, who’s left more fingerprints than anyone, and my son, even before the industry pros came along. I am so grateful for them all. It’s obvious now I never could have done it alone.
I know I’ve left some things unanswered. I’m sorry I can’t share any titles yet. But I am happy to share that yesterday I completed the revisions of the final book in the trilogy. It’s been to the editor and to me, there and back again. Finished. Fulfilled. End of an era.
I don’t know exactly what lies ahead, nor timing. I just have to keep going, keep listening, keep following. I’m anxious, but I must trust. With each book, I never thought I’d get it to the level it needed to be. Never be more than a hobby, never something fit for another to read. Breakthrough came for the first book, and I was amazed. Then immediately, I doubted I could ever make a worthy sequel. I did–no, He did. But then, I told myself, I’ve written two decent books, but how could I ever tie it all together? Too great a feat for me. Half-baked was all it would ever be, book three. Then God came through yet again in steadfastness, despite my doubting all three times.
This I must never forget. May He teach you and lead you as mercifully as He’s dealt with me. May you succeed in your endeavors and be blessed with compassionate collaborators, my fellow travelers.
Write On,
Fellow Traveler