A Writer’s Life is a Roller Coaster. How Best to Avoid Whiplash
By Lorraine Devon Wilke
When I was in grade school, my class participated in a special pullout session to watch an interesting documentary about noted anthropologist Louis Leakey. I was mesmerized throughout, so when we were assigned to write an essay immediately afterwards, I jumped in, flush with enthusiasm.
Imagine, then, the blow of getting my paper back with a big “D+” circled in red with the sharply worded comment: “Much copied material!” Which was shocking (and inaccurate), given that it was written about a movie I’d just watched, with no reference materials to tap, and not a word of it from anywhere but my own fertile mind. It seems I’d enjoyed the film enough that I retained much of the information and wove that into my analysis and review. “Wasn’t that what I was supposed to do?” I internally caterwauled. Yet when I confronted the teacher to assert my plagiaristic innocence, she refused to believe “a child your age could have written anything as cogent and well thought-out as this,” and my hideous grade held. Talk about a back-handed compliment!
I kept that essay with its big, circled “D+” as a reminder of just how misguided and off-the-mark much about writing (and writers) can be. As both an art form and an industry, it’s rife with opinions, instructions, rules, mandates, perceptions, and demands that often, and sometimes quite loudly, contradict each other. And while we, the writers, are driven to express our narrative impulses from the purest places of creativity, most of us also want to be humble and open, learn from experts, and build goodwill in hopefully sustaining relationships. So when we get hit with those many contradictions and confusions—often found in “rules of writing” lists, personal critiques, and advice we don’t necessarily agree with but feel we probably should—there’s a struggle to know what to accept, what to reject, when to get a second opinion, and when to just shut up and do that page-one rewrite.
All of these options and elements comingle in the swooping up-and-down roller coaster life that is a writer’s. You know, that ride we clamor onto in pursuit of fulfilling our dream, building a career, working toward excellence, and finding success. It’s a ride that’s unpredictable and exhilarating, terrifying and whiplashing; one that, when it takes off, leaves us unsure of whether to raise our hands and scream in delight, or demand someone stop the damn thing and let us off.
Though it’s been over a decade since I finished my first novel, I still find myself shaken at times on that ride. Jostled, as I continue to sharpen my writing skills, query agents; evolve my thinking on options in the publishing industry, even work with other writers to help them polish their own work. I think (I hope) I have come to a place where I have thick enough skin, deep enough wisdom, and much less reliance on magical thinking, but I’m still amazed at how many of the questions I asked—or was asked—years ago that are still being asked today:
- Is self-publishing the kiss of death? (No)
- Does it really matter what our book covers look like? (Yes)
- I can’t afford an editor; can I put my book on Amazon anyway? (You can but definitely shouldn’t without professional editing and formatting.)
- Can anyone but romance writers find an agent? (I’m not clear on that … I just got a rejection letter from an agent I queried 2.5 years ago; it took her that long to even acknowledge my submission!)
- Are we allowed to call ourselves writers if we haven’t published anything yet? (If you’re writing, I say you’re a writer.)
- I heard that Stephen King said writers shouldn’t watch TV; did he say that and is he correct? (I don’t know if he actually said that. If he did, it might have been taken out of context. If it wasn’t, no, he’s not correct.)
- How many books do we need to write a year to be considered successful? (The metric of “success” has nothing whatsoever to do with how many books you write a year… or ever.)
The list goes on, but let me leap on that last one, as it’s a question that sparked a recent conversation with a writer friend of mine. It had taken her a good many years to fully develop, write, fine-tune, and ultimately prepare her current book for publication, and yet she kept reading about other writers who were cranking out three, four, even five books in a year, which astounded and confused her. “How can they manage that when it’s taken me so long to do my one? Is it possible some of us only have one story in us?”
She said she’d posited the question in her writing class and got lots of feedback: some commiserated with her query, wondering and feeling similar things. Others admitted that though they did publish more frequently, not all they wrote was particularly memorable (she thought that was bracingly honest, as did I!). And there were a few who took umbrage with her phrase “cranking out,” asserting they could write several books a year without any loss of quality. I weighed in with something like this:
“I totally understand your dilemma. And you’re not alone. I’ve taken years between my books and long ago decided that’s just the way it is for me. I’m not interested in quantity over quality, and for me to write what I perceive to be a quality book takes time, with lots of rewrites and editing and more rewrites, and with that sort of protocol you literally can’t crank out several books a year.
“I have seen some people crank out two, three, sometimes four books a year, and maybe they’re good enough for some readers, but upon further inspection I’ve found many don’t hit the mark for me. Often they’re quick and formulaic, sometimes lacking thoughtful editing or proper copy-editing. But it’s a choice people make, both as writers and readers.
“You do your thing, feel and tell your stories, however many or few you have, and don’t worry about the rest. You’re good.”
And I stand by that. Though, frankly, I don’t know why that debate persists. It shouldn’t. It’s a personal choice. Unless you signed a deal agreeing to a certain number of books for a publishing company (and then congrats to you!), how many books you write is as personal a matter as how much you weigh, how many children you want (or don’t), or why you suddenly hate musicals. That it’s become a flashpoint amongst writers is strange to me, whether it’s that weird point-of-pride for some who do “crank out” several books a year, or a “shame cudgel” for those who don’t, can’t, don’t want to. Both decisions are valid. Neither is more meritorious than the other. So let’s parse how to avoid the whiplash triggered by that particular roller coaster dive.
It can sometimes be hard for writers to take the long view of their art and the industry that encompasses it. Some put heart and soul into the work, believe in it, love it as they’d love a child. Others see it as less about love and more about commerce, using their skills and creative output to build income and popularity. Some fall somewhere in between. I think you have to, first, figure out where you see yourself on that spectrum, then construct a writing protocol and business plan that aligns with what you decide. Once you candidly and honestly do that, it gets easier to find answers to the issue discussed in your writing group … or any questions that arise over time.
Things like: What do I prioritize in terms of where I spend my time and money? How much critique do I need and want; how much do I seek out; how much do I implement? Which rules feel organic and productive; which are non-applicable to me? What publishing model suits how I want to do this? How many stories do I have to tell; how many books do I feel compelled to write?
No one can answer those questions for you, and anyone who tells you there’s only one way to achieve or perceive success—whether creative, critical, or commercial—is wrong. There are many ways, just as there are many versions of success. Though I’d certainly love all the perks best-selling authors enjoy as much as the next person, more important to me is telling the stories I want to tell the way I want to tell them: how they flow, how they feel, what they say, how the books look, how they’re presented in the marketplace, and so on. If that comes with perks, yippidy do dah! If it only comes with my sense of artistic pride and personal satisfaction, so be it. I can live with that.
Odds are you can too. You simply have to define your goal, decide your path, then buckle in for the journey you design to get there. Hopefully, you can enjoy the ride, get to your destination in one piece and succeed without pulling a muscle … you might even ask to be taken around again!
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Additional read: THE ART & CRAFTINESS OF CRITIQUE: Women Writers Women’s Books, February 25, 2022
Having worked in various literary mediums throughout her career, Lorraine launched her “novel era” in 2014 when her first, After The Sucker Punch, was self-published. Hysterical Love followed in 2015; her next, The Alchemy Of Noise, was pubbed by She Writes Press in 2019, accruing strong reviews and a slate of awards. Her latest novel, Chick Singer, will be out March 28, 2025, via Sibylline Press. Lorraine’s also an active essayist, most vibrantly at her Substack column, “Musings of a Creative Loudmouth”, also keeping her blog, Rock+Paper+Music, and column at Medium both flourishing. With music and photography still very much a part of her creative playbook, links to all can be found at her LinkTree.
CHICK SINGER
A former ‘80s rock singer is forced to excavate her mysterious past when her boomeranging adult daughter secretly — and successfully — posts her old music online.
Rock & roll stardom is something you dream about when you’re young, and for Libby Conlin the ‘80s and all their wild promise are ancient history. What pulls her attention now is the unexpected arrival of Bridget, her newly divorced daughter who’s home again despite their historically fractious relationship and the chaos it inspires. And, as if predestined, life quickly turns upside down when Bridget’s application to a local art school involves anonymously posting Libby’s old music online, music that’s good enough to garner the attention of industry gatekeepers. When Libby’s mysterious past—and all its dark secrets—comes roaring into the present, the reconfiguration of everything and everyone in her orbit is both bittersweet and life changing.
When fascination with rock & roll remains a never-ending draw, CHICK SINGER steps onto that stage with its raucous exploration of a complex mother/daughter relationship set against a backdrop of music, dreams, and love—and the art of redefining all three.
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Category: How To and Tips