Mentor Magic

Not long ago, I received a phone call from a woman I'd met earlier this year. During our initial meeting at our local library, I'd offered some advice on breaking into the publishing world. We talked about things like crafting query letters, composing punchy pitches, and pitching projects.

No one knows it all. Seriously. Ask for help!

I did not read her project (a young adult novel) or comment on it. I scanned the first few pages enough to see that she knew how to put words together, and knew a thing or two about punctuation. Our meeting didn't focus on the writing -- it was more about what to do with what was written.

It appears that she went right home and worked on what we'd talked about. (Side note: I can't tell you how gratifying it is when someone asks for your advice -- and then follows it.)

She called to let me know that a BIG agency had responded to her query and requested the first three chapters of her manuscript. She had a few questions about proper format -- but mostly, she was just excited. And she wanted to say "thanks."

I told her how proud I was of her, and told her to let me know when she'd landed an agent and sold the book.

Urgently needed: Fashion mentor. Stat!

No one knows it all. And -- praise God! -- we don't live in a vacuum of isolation. We all need mentors. We need people who are willing to point out the path we should follow.

How can you tell if you need a mentor? Five sure signs:

1.) You have done your best, and have progressed as far as you are able to on your own.

2.) You have specific questions that someone else can easily answer or you lack specific skills that someone else can easily demonstrate.

3.) You are ready and willing to learn.

4.) You are ready and willing to act on what you learn.

5.) You are ready to stretch yourself, but you need someone with experience to help show you the way.

If you exhibit all five signs, you owe it to yourself to find a mentor willing to help you grow.

Seek.
Ask.
Learn.
Fly.

No one can make us follow a particular path, or use information that's been given to us. And no one can walk the path for us. But I'm always grateful when someone who's a little further up the publishing ladder is willing to give me the benefit of his or her experience. And I'm happy to help people who might be able to learn from what I know. The magic is in realizing that we're not on this trip alone.

When the Raptor Comes

My husband and I returned home near dusk. We were met at the driveway by a squawking, terrified chicken, running about as if she’d had her head cut off. I thought perhaps I’d left the gate to the chicken pen open and headed over to see what was the matter.

The gate was firmly closed, but the entire little flock was twitterpated. As I approached the fence, I saw the problem: an enormous raptor – a rough-legged hawk – in the pen with my chickens! He flew off as I approached, but he took his time doing it. His huge wings spread out and sent the birds into new paroxysms of terror.

Inside the coop, the oldest chicken (a 4 year-old Barred Rock who has been going through a most embarrassing molt) cowered in a corner. Her breathing was too fast, and her eyes were closed. I saw no blood or signs of a struggle. She had simply shut down and was waiting for the end to come.

Since chickens will often keel over and die from a heart attack after a stressful situation, I fully expected her to be gone by the end of the day. Surprisingly, however, after 15 minutes or so in a near-comatose state, she stood up, stretched, ascertained that the executioner was NOT nearby, and ran out of the coop as if nothing had happened.

While the hawk terrifies my chickens and could destroy them, he is not really a nuisance to me. I often see him at the back of our property when I am riding, and he never fails to inspire awe. He is magnificent. Just having the opportunity to see something like that is one of the reasons I love where we live.

But there is no denying the fact that he is a real menace to the chickens. They are not equipped to deal with him. They would literally rather die than confront him. They cannot see the beauty and power that he holds. They will never soar where he does.

Ah – of course there is a lesson in all this. When the raptor of success comes knocking at your door (and it will, if you give it half a chance and put yourself in a position to encounter it), will you be inspired to reach within yourself and rise to new heights? Or will you cower in a corner, give up without fighting, and wait for the end to come?

I once did a book edit that ended up becoming a total rewrite because of such a raptor. The original writer was so impossible to reach, I dubbed him He Who Will Not Call. His representatives informed those of us working on the book that Himself simply could not be burdened with any more work at this time. He was going through a Difficult Period. He was Very Busy. He was indisposed.

Things got so bad, the publisher was forced to send all communications via certified mail just to verify that HWWNC received the materials.

If I stay here, it will all just go away...

Regardless of whatever reason for why He couldn't respond to my content questions, all I could see was that giant hawk circling overhead. If HWWNC would have seized the opportunity to rise to the challenge, the manuscript could have been completed in a matter of weeks. (As it was, it took months. Many, many months.) Himself’s part would have been finished. All he would have had to do would be to wait for the royalty checks to arrive.

Instead, however, he probably only saw the amount of work still to be done. And since he had never written a book before, the task must have looked as daunting as an Araucana hen fighting off a bird of prey. So he chose to give up – to cower in a corner in the coop and pray for a swift end, so we'd all stop bothering him with editorial questions.

There’s a lesson here, and it’s an important one. When you agree to tackle a new project – something you’ve never done before… something that scares you… something that will force you to learn new things in order to finish it -- decide at the outset how you will face the inevitable challenges that arise.

Will you crawl into a hole and refuse to come out until all possibilities of success have passed, thus making your fear of failure a self-fulfilling prophecy? Or will you find a way to find the strength to leave the confines of the comfortable behind you and soar toward success?

Happy flying…

Magnum as Tigger, P.I.: Why Archetypes Work

Remember Magnum? Thomas Sullivan Magnum, private investigator, Thursday night staple throughout the 1980s, remember him?

I confess, when I watched the show as a kid, I just loved the sheer visual noise of it. Mike Post and Pete Carpenter's theme song still plays in my head as the ultimate car chase accompaniment.

I thought I remembered Magnum. Those dimples! That Ferarri! The mustache! But lately, WunderGuy and I have been bingeing on Magnum, P.I. I discovered I'd forgotten many aspects...

Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

I'd forgotten what an anti-hero Magnum is. He suffers from PTSD. He's essentially homeless -- or he would be if he wasn't in Robin Masters' good graces. He commits several murders in cold blood (All with good reason, of course. "Did you see the sunrise this morning?"). He's cheap. He's manipulative. He's not above lying to his friends to get what he wants. And yet... his irrepressible optimism trumps all. Thirty years later, he's still loveable.

Magnum's a Tigger. His friends are his real family. When he blunders into trouble -- which is often -- his first instinct is to get physical. Whatever he does, even if he does it badly, he does with gusto.

"My dear Pooh," said Owl in his superior way,
"don't you know what an Ambush is?"

If Magnum is Tigger, Higgins is Owl. He's erudite, a bit narcissistic, and pontificates at the drop of a hat. He is the star of every story he tells.  He looks down his nose at Magnum's lack of decorum. He is continually dismayed by Magnum's lack of refinement.

However, Higgins isn't all blowhard. When the chips are down, he is quick to help -- though that help often comes with a rather wordy soundtrack.

T.C.? Well, T.C. is Pooh, of course. He's all heart. He'll do anything for his friends, but he has his own interests, too.

He's more grounded and less volatile than Magnum. While Magnum spends his free time training himself for competition, T.C. spends his coaching kids. His sense of loyalty will never let him turn down a request from a friend -- even if he knows from past experience that the request will probably lead to trouble.

Pooh was just beginning to say that it was
all right now, when he found that it wasn't.

At least once an episode, what I call the "Oh, bother" scene occurs, where Magnum wrangles T.C. into doing something both of them know T.C. would be better off not doing... Still, like Pooh, T.C. can never say "no" and make it stick.

And what about Rick? He's Rabbit. Knows everyone. Extremely hard working. Knows the rules and expects people to follow them -- though he's often guilty of ignoring them himself.

"Hallo, Rabbit," he said, "is that you?"
"Let's pretend it isn't," said Rabbit, "and see what happens."

Rick likes numbers and lists, which makes him a good manager as well as a bookie. He can be judgmental, unethical, and bitter. He tends to be rather harsh. He likes a good fight every now and then, but if given the choice would always prefer to be known as the Brains rather than the Brawn. Though he's not above making a scene, he's easily embarrassed, and can hold a grudge for a long time.

Once, at a dinner party, a friend of a friend waxed eloquent on his theory of how the whole world is peopled with characters from Winnie the Pooh. I've often had reason to think about his theory and wonder if he's right. A.A. Milne understood the importance of archetype. In the denizens of the 100 Acre Woods, Milne created a few that endure.

There is a reason archetypes work. They help writers keep characters consistent. They allow the audience to get an immediate feel for a character. As the relationship grows, the characters eventually amass their own history, their own quirks, and take on a life of their own. But the underlying archetype -- Good Guy, Pontificator, Life of the Party, Hard Ass, Bigot, Softie -- remains, providing the foundation for the rest.

My friend, the lovely Yi Shun Lai (@Gooddirt), blogged about lessons learned from bingewatching Magnum this summer.

Me? My big takeaway is the fact that the wonderful thing about archetypes is Magnums are wonderful things...

"Flying is Just Impossible" - Thoughts on My Daughter's Sixth Grade Goals

My darling daughter breezed into the car after the first day of sixth grade, fired up and ready to take on the world. She loves school. Her day was great! Her teacher is awesome!

"What did you do today?" I asked.

"We set goals for things we want to accomplish this year!"

Curious, I asked for more information about these sixth grade goals. With my daughter's kind permission, I have posted them here:

And now, I am exercising my parental prerogative to offer some thoughts on the list... ~ahem~

First, I love the self-portrait. Too many of us make grandiose plans, listing our goals and hopes and dreams, without stopping to indulge our Inner Artist. I am smitten by the idea of drawing a selfie to head every list of goals I create in the future.

1.) "Learn how to care for pets."

Actually, dear Daughter, when you told me your list, you said your goal this year was "To learn more about zoology."

"Why did you write 'pets,' instead," I asked.

"I wasn't sure how to spell 'zoology,'" was your reply. Which only makes me wish you'd put "To learn more about spelling" on the list, but I know better.

I heartily approve of this item. How can I help? Perhaps if I stop saying "Does your guinea pig have food and water?" every night, you will learn what happens to said pig if you *don't* feed and water it every day. The same holds true of the parakeet.

What would you like to learn? How much keeping a pet costs? I would be happy to contribute to your achieving this goal by allowing you to assume responsibility for your dog's expenses, including food, license, shots, fluffy stuffed chew toys she can shred into dust particles, and vacuum cleaner bags for storing the roughly 3.7 pounds of black fur she sheds daily.

Efforts to teach computer skillz continue...

I can't complain about how you are taking care of the two cats you're catsitting. I have never had to remind you to feed or water them, or to clean out their litter boxes. The only thing you have left to learn about them is how to say good-bye gracefully when their owners return to claim them in December. That's going to be a tough one.

You do a good job caring for your parakeet. You also willingly help feed and care for the horses, chickens, ducks, Quakers, and the other dogs and cats that share our home.

Why do I suspect that this item is cleverly disguised code for "Acquire MORE pets?"

Allow me to reiterate: No hedgehog. No. While I'm at it, no foxes, no otters, no snakes, and no hamsters. We already live in a zoo. So I would like to add "I already have" as a qualifier to the end of #1.

2.) "Work on computer code."

Your father can help you on this one. He's the computer guru. I know enough about html coding to know that I'd rather have anesthetic-free oral surgery while hearing the audio book of Snooki's novel than sling code for extended periods of time. ::shudder::

You do love your otters, don't you?

This is a good example of a non-quantifiable goal. It doesn't have a clear, identifiable end for you to know when or if you have achieved it. When I asked you why you wanted to learn coding, you told me you wanted to build an interactive website "Like Animal Jam, only cooler."

I suspect it's because Animal Jam has recently added otters (no doubt at your suggestion), but they are only available to paying members, which you are not, because I said you had to use your own funds if you wanted to throw money away on online gaming.

I find acquiring a skill so you can do-it-yourself admirable. When I told you about Code Academy, you immediately looked it up and bookmarked it on your phone. I'll be interested to see if you follow through with this. I hope you do.


3.) Know Christ more.

That, my dear, is between you and your maker. I'll do everything in my power to help you achieve that goal.

Very well... Carry on...


4.) Study LSAT's again.

Erm.

You are the only eleven-year old I know of who thinks reading "How to Prepare for the LSAT" books is fun. I know you want to be a lawyer -- and the good Lord knows you are a world-class arguer. But kids your age are generally not even thinking about the PSATs yet, let alone concerning themselves with getting into law school.

You've wanted to go into law for as long as I remember. Why? So you can work with environmentalists to save endangered species, especially otters. I don't generally admire lawyers. I also don't generally admire vipers or electric eels. But they serve a necessary function. As long as you keep #3 on your list, you'll make a great lawyer.

So, go ahead. Keep on reading that LSAT book you keep checking out of the library. I have ten years to figure out how to pay for law school. Maybe by then, your mastery of #2 on your list will have paid off...

5.) Write a book.

Good for you! You write and illustrate manga books all the time, when you're not filming movies starring your LPS creatures or reading. Why not take the leap and focus solely on telling a story with text?

I told you about National Novel Writing Month in November. You've lived through the madness with me. Now, you can experience it for yourself.

As your Number One fan, I can't wait to read what you've written. I hope you'll include me as a beta.

But a caveat, Dear One. If you want to regularly put food on the table, and be able to feed the critters you love so much, may I humbly suggest following either #2 or #4 as a career path? Because I can tell you, when #5 is your calling, it makes you rely a WHOLE LOT on #3...

One day's worth of reading. Yep. That's about right.

6.) Read all of 2,000 books.

Well.

That IS ambitious.

This is the only truly quantifiable goal in the list, but have you done the math here?

If you're going to finish 2000 books by the end of the school year, that's over 10 books a day. Which is totally doable for you; I just wanted to make sure you realize the scope of what you hope to accomplish.

"I know it's ambitious," you told  me when I pointed out the magnitude of the goal. "What I wrote down first was 'learn to fly.'" But, while that would be so cool, flying is just impossible. I don't have wings. So I wrote this."

Ah. I see.

Sometimes a goal appears doable as a whole, but when one begins picking away at the reality of achieving it, one becomes overwhelmed at the sheer scope. Still, what overwhelms one may motivate another.

(Case in point: #MadWritersUnite -- wherein writers pledge to write 2 full books, between 70K and 90K words, total, during the month of September. I hope they do it! I wish them every good thing. But as for considering something similar myself, I can't even...)

You read like a fiend. You read all the time. You love to read, and I can't find fault with that. So, as long as this goal doesn't interfere with your chores ("I can't clean out the dishwasher; I'm reading" is not an acceptable statement in this house) or your health (You will go outside and play every day. Seriously. Go.), I'll support it. You've already finished the Junior section at our local library. I'm not sure they have 2000 books there that you haven't yet read...

My dear, you have set some high bars for yourself this year. I'm proud of your enthusiasm and your ambition. I'll be interested to revisit this list in a month or so, and see where you are on it. Let me tell you: whether or not you have wings, if you stick to it and see these goals through to the end, you WILL fly.

My daughter's friend (and my godson), in the same class, said: "My goals are to be more helpful and keep my mouth shut more."

Any thoughts I may have had on his goals are moot. Before I could offer any observations--

He paused. He sighed.

"I'm not optimistic."

Going Above and Beyond the Fine Print of Friendship

When I was a kid, my favorite vice was bite-sized Milky Way bars. I'd eat 'em like... Well, like candy.

Thirteen-year old me after a Milky Way binge.

Once, some kind soul bought me a bag of them. (Mine! All mine! Mwah-hahaha!)

As I was scarfing down the chocolaty, nougaty, caramelly goodness, I pulled a wrapper out of the bag that was flat. Sealed tight, but empty. A dud.

My adolescent self was appalled. Convinced I'd been cheated, I wrote a letter to the Mars candy bar company detailing the problem and enclosing the offending wrapper as proof. No lie. I took my candy very seriously.

Some time later, I received a letter from (no doubt) some poor lackey with nothing better to do all day than respond to complaints like mine. The missive explained how the crucial "sold by weight, not by volume" legal loophole meant my dud wrapper was not, in fact, a personal affront. My bag of candy, as a whole, was patently not defective.

Oh.

But then the letter writer did something else. He said that Mars, Co., the manufacturer of the object of my obsession, valued me as a client. The company didn't want to lose me over a little misunderstanding. So he was enclosing a sheaf of coupons for -- sweet Vidalia onion! -- free bags of Milky Ways.

That experience taught me several things. To begin with, it cemented in my mind the power of the written word. From a certain point of view, my letter of complaint was my first paid writing gig.

More importantly, however, it illustrated the merits of exceeding expectations, showing how going above and beyond what was required had real merit.

Lately, I've had the pleasure of encountering several people who have gone above and beyond the norm.

Going above and beyond: Fly! Be free!

One is photographer Scott Gane, the husband of Kim Jorgensen Gane, my #Write2TheEnd Writing Workshop co-facilitator. Scott was so enthusiastically supportive of #W2TE's mission to help writers set a goal and finish it that he became a #W2TE sponsor, offering his photography expertise to provide all Summer, 2014, participants with professional headshots. I was blown away by his generosity.

Then there is Alyson Peterson of Dirty Green Jello fame (@crzywritergrl on Twitter), one of my dearest virtual friends. We've never met, but we've Skyped and IMed and texted and emailed so often that I feel as if we've known each other since my Milky Way snarfing days. Not long ago, thanks to a friend's expertise, I was able to help Alyson with a problem that had been plaguing her. I was happy to help...

... but Alyson epitomizes "going above and beyond." She showered both my expert friend and me with heartfelt tokens of her appreciation. Which was totally unnecessary; we were just glad we were able to help. But that's what going above and beyond means. It transcends the original experience and elevates everyone involved.

A few weeks ago, my mother had a nasty fall that resulted in fractured facial bones, a brain bleed, and a lifeflight trip to UPMC. She's recovering well in a rehab hospital in Pennsylvania at the moment, while we all plan for what happens next.

Upon hearing of Mom's accident, my friends immediately offered to help. One, in Ohio, volunteered to take what remains of her vacation and use it to help me pack up Mom and Dad to move to Michigan. One offered to take her full-size van to PA to transport Mom here. Several others offered to either watch our place, to help with chores, or to help with the impending move. I don't know whether I'll take anyone up on their offers, but the point is -- they readily rose to the occasion.

I am so grateful for friends like these. They sweeten my life much more than a bag of bite-sized chocolatey decadence ever could. I am honored and humbled to be surrounded by so many people who routinely go above and beyond what convention dictates the "norm" should be. They may have read the fine print that says friendship is sold by weight and not by volume, but they ignore it on a regular basis, and together we all soar.

Hop Like a Writer

Some hop, but that's not how I roll...

My friend, blogger, writer, and fellow #Write2TheEnd facilitator Kim Jorgensen Gane, of GANE Possible, invited me to participate in this blog hop, in which writerly people discuss writerly things. I am honored to be included.

Being a part of such a blog hop is a great excuse to be able to talk about one's own writing. ("I didn't ask the questions! They did!")

So, for those of you who've been wondering what I've been up to -- especially if you follow me on Twitter and see me posting pictures of falcons, researching the history of crossbows, and talking about the crazy crush I've developed on the character who was originally the novel's antagonist, but who looks (in my mind) so much like Christian Kane it's impossible NOT to love him -- come, hop with me!

Blog Hop Questions: 

1.) What am I working on/writing? 
My current project is an epic historical fantasy set in pre-Arthurian Britain. "Before Camelot, there was Shalott."

KNIGHT FALL -- the tale of a good guy who goes bad, a bad boy who tries to be good, and the women behind the scenes who are pulling their strings -- is the first of three books in the series.

Finishing the trilogy is my top priority for 2014. If I don't, several longsuffering beta readers who have been waiting for this story have sworn to lynch me.

2.) How does my work/writing differ from others in its genre?

The problem w/ dream casting: characters steal the story...

I rarely write characters who are black and white. I'm more interested in the subtle, seemingly insignificant, everyday happenings that can tip the balance of allegiance. History in hindsight often follows a path that seems clear and true. But to those living through it, their choices are much murkier.

My writing spends time with the people who don't realize (and, if I do my job right, neither does the reader, at first) how much hinges on every decision they make. I want to tell a story that explains the origin of legends we accept as canon. That involves focusing on the people relegated to the shadows at least as much as those who have stolen the limelight.

3.) Why do I write what I do?
This project began as an obsession with Tennyson's poem "The Lady of Shalott." First, I wrote the screenplay, focusing on the tale of star-crossed lovers -- a damaged knight on the edge of legend, and the imprisoned girl who holds his heart.

But the story stuck with me and insisted on more attention. So I spent a NaNoWriMo November turning script into novel, which resulted in 80,000 words and the realization that I had enough story for three books. The project overwhelmed me because I didn't have the time to dedicate to it, so I shelved it while I wrote a few books for clients and edited a major project for the USHJA. But my medieval characters -- especially the aforementioned antagonist, who has now commandeered a starring role in the entire series -- wouldn't leave me alone.

Why do I write what I do? Because I can't shake it off. I can't shelve it. The characters in it are as real to me as people I know. And I'm the only one who knows their story. If I don't write it, no one will.

4.) How does my writing process work?
My process is different when working on contracted projects for other people. But I'm going to answer this question solely with regards to working on my own, "spec" stuff....

At the beginning of the year, I made a resolution to dedicate a portion of my time every day to working on my own writing projects.

This may seem like a no-brainer ("A writer writes!"), but it was the end result of a difficult, soul-searching process. See, I write a lot. All the time. Much of the day. But I had allowed working on others' writing projects -- helping with research, or brainstorming, or editing, or book-doctoring, or mentoring, or muse-ing -- to take precedence over my own writing.

Why can't I get the blasted ball rolling...?

One day, after working for eight uninterrupted hours, I realized that I had put in many eight-or-more hour days over the past few months, but hadn't written Word One on my novel. I talked about it, made copious notes in the wee hours of the morning when my characters interrupted my dreams and insisted I pay attention to them, and dreamed of that wonderful day when I would have nothing to do but write.

But that day never came. If I allowed it -- and for the greater part of the past few years I have allowed it -- I spent my creative energies helping other people solve their writing problems instead of working to solve my own.

Why?

I wrestled with the question through most of the last holiday season. It took me weeks to finally hit upon the reason:


Working on my own writing was fun. Really fun. And for some inexplicable reason, I had allowed myself to make "fun" synonymous with "not important." Therefore, I was only allowing myself to do it when everything else -- clients' work, laundry, meal-making, housework, chores, etc. -- was finished. Which never happened. Kind of like my writing time.

So, since January, a huge part of my process has been to reclaim my writing time, to jealously guard it, to value it, and to make it a priority.

I rent studio space (which I affectionately call The Burrow). The space is mine, all mine! It contains only items directly related to my current project. Every single thing within its walls pertains to my work in progress.

I go to The Burrow at least four days a week. There, from 9 a.m. till 3 p.m., while the kids are in school, I write.

I start the day old-school, with a cup of coffee, a pad of paper, a pen, and my dog at my feet. I write out my next chapter longhand, as long as the muse strikes.

(I have learned that I am weak and the internet is my kryptonite. If I come to work and immediately fire up the computer, as I used to do, hours can evaporate as I check my emails, get on Twitter, and follow the various rabbit holes of social media. Since I know my own weaknesses, I choose not to feed them. I will not get on my computer until I have at least one whole chapter written down. Then, if I fall down a rabbit hole, at least my day has been productive, and I have dedicated the best part of myself to my writing, instead of watching YouTube videos of funny dogs.)

So far, this process is serving me well. I'm making regular, solid progress on the book, and am loving where my characters are taking me. As the school year comes to a close, I have already informed my family that I will keep my writing schedule during the summer. I refuse to let my commitment waver. I am blessed to have their support. (My husband is an alpha reader, which helps, because he keeps clamoring for the next chapter...)

I guess my short answer to the question is that the biggest part of my process is making my writing a priority.

Enough about me.

I am thrilled to pass the Bloggy Hoppy torch to YA fantasy writer Alyson Peterson (@crzywritergrl) and crime novelist Marguerite Ashton (@msashton_writer). Check out their posts next Monday, Memorial Day, May 26.

Alyson Peterson is an amazing writer, with acerbic wit and snappy snark to spare. (She's also a fabulous artist, but that's another story...)

She writes about wizards and displaced heirs and interplanetary mayhem and magical horses. If you like young adult urban fantasy, you should be clamoring for a publisher to discover Alyson and get her books in print -- STAT! My 11 year-old daughter is an avid reader, who ranks Alyson's books right up there with Harry Potter and the Warriors series. Seriously. She's that good. Someday you'll see.

In the meantime, while she's waiting to be discovered, she blogs about life at Dirty Green Jello. Go check her out. She's aces.

Crime writer Marguerite Ashton is a founder of the popular blog Criminal Lines and Co-founder of the Crime Writers’ Panel. There, she works alongside Joe Giacalone with other panel members to educate writers on the importance of showing accurate portrayals of criminal investigations and law enforcement procedures in their novels.

Marguerite's radio show, Criminal Lines Radio airs bi-monthly, bringing together law enforcement and authors in an open forum.

A member of Sisters in Crime, Marguerite grew up in Colorado, but now resides in Wisconsin, where she is currently working on her next book. (Which I've read and helped edit. You'll love it! I promise!)

Four Words Every Writer Needs to Hear

(Note: this is an updated version of a post from several years ago. Why? Because every writer STILL needs to hear these four words...)

In 2000, while attending the Maui Writer's Conference, I had an eye-opening, life-changing experience. I had scrounged up money that was earmarked for things like house payments, food, and insurance (you know: frivolities) and had jetted halfway around the world hoping to further my career.

I had been a featured presenter at some smaller writers conferences, had a finished YA manuscript, and a screenplay that had held its own in the Nicholl and Austin film competitions. Other than some magazine articles, I had nothing of note in print. The Maui conference appealed to me because it featured panels on both screenwriting and fiction writing. And because it offered pitching sessions with Real Live Agents. And so, knowing I had much to learn (and hoping to find someone who thought I was brilliant and who signed me immediately), I went to Paradise.

I learned many things.

One of the most painful was that I had no idea how to pitch. (How fast can you say "crash and burn?" Believe me, it takes longer to say than to do!)

One of the most helpful was that the agents & film industry professionals were not interested in eating me alive. (I am eternally grateful to Alison Rosenzweig for suffering through my first-ever pitch attempt. My thoughts: "Oh my God, I'm babbling and I can't shut up! Someone please kill me now." I can only imagine hers. She let me regroup, kindly offered some suggestions, and let me practice on her. Bless her.)

But by far the most influential thing I discovered was that Someone Out There believed I would make it.

Here's what happened:

After a panel discussion with Hollywood insiders on the realities of the film business, they fielded general questions. Someone asked the inevitable "Why does Hollywood keep saying they're looking for great writing while churning out bad movies?"

(I remind you that the year 2000 saw such film releases as "Memento," "Requiem for a Dream," "X-Men," "Gladiator," "American Psycho" (which I still maintain is a comedy), "Castaway" and "Chocolat." Ok, it's true, it also inflicted "Scary Movie," "Charlie's Angels," "Me, Myself & Irene," and "Battlefield Earth" on humanity. But still: it wasn't a terrible year...)

The panelist, a VP of Production at Paramount, answered the question using the analogy of ordering ice cream to feed a group. Individual members of the group may like various flavors, but the group as a whole probably won't all agree on something extravagant like Double Chocolate Macademia Nut or Salted Caramel. And so, in the end, everyone goes with tried and true: Vanilla.

This kicked off a spirited discussion about the ills of the industry and a general trashing of the state of filmmaking.

Finally, I couldn't stand it. I stood and said that I was happy every time I went and saw a bad movie. It gave me hope. Because as long as Hollywood continues to make bad films, I find it easy to believe with all my heart that they need me.

Afterward, the Paramount bigwig tracked me down, introduced himself and shook my hand. He told me he liked what I'd said. Then he said the four words that I'd been desperate to hear:

"You will make it."

I remember very little of the rest of the conference. Four years passed before I got a book deal. I'm still working at finding the chink in the film industry's armor that will let me in. But those words, coming from someone who wasn't related to me, fueled my determination to persevere in ways that the speaker will never know.

I daresay that there is a secret to sticking with any artistic endeavor through the inevitable rejections and dry patches that accompany a creative career, and it is this: Find someone who believes in your success and who tells you that you will make it.

If you're in southwestern Michigan this summer, and looking for a community of writers who will band together to jointly support you while kicking your butt to achieve the goals you have set for yourself, I encourage you to consider joining us at the #Write2TheEnd Writer's Workshop, beginning in June. If you're not in southwestern Michigan, consider starting your own #Write2TheEnd chapter.

Even if we don't immediately achieve our goals and realize our dreams, knowing that someone out there is pulling for us to do so encourages us to make progress on them. And progress, not perfection, is the key to ultimate success.

If you're a writer, an artist, or a creative soul, and you are looking for a reason to keep on keeping on, here it is:

Keep learning.

Keep creating.

Keep growing.

Keep putting your work out there.

Never give up your dreams. And one day, you'll see --

You will make it.