Think you can’t get published? Think again

By: Angela Campbell 

I know what you’re probably thinking. Who is this strange person guest blogging for Tammatha Conerly and The Write Business Solutions? Well, I’ll tell ya who I am.

I’m a soon-to-be published author, that’s who I am!

This quirky little book I began writing well over 10 years ago finally snagged the attention of an editor or two, and Carina Press will soon e-publish the manuscript I slaved over for years and years.

Sound a little familiar — that slaving away part, I mean?

I have a feeling my sad, little biography will sound familiar to more than a few of you (and if it doesn’t, why are you reading this blog? Reruns of “Two and a Half Men” are probably on somewhere. Go on, now, shoo!)

One of my childhood dreams was to become a published writer. I lost my mom to cancer when I was 12, and she made me promise I’d never stop writing stories for fun since I enjoyed it so much. Being my mom, she naturally thought I was destined to become the next Emily Bronte or something. Poor soul. I conjured up some short stories here and there as I grew older, but none of them ever amounted to much.

In college, I became addicted to reading mass fiction rather than studying or even partying, and I decided that, hey, I could do that too! I could write a book as good as, if not better, than Michael Crichton or Nora Roberts or Dean Koontz or that Stephen What’s-His-Name guy. I pulled out my word processor (remember those?) and began typing away.

I’d start a story, get distracted by another, and toss it aside.

I’d start a story, get distracted by another, and toss it aside.

One day I realized, Hmmm, maybe this writing-a-novel-thing this isn’t as easy as I thought it was.

Oh, yeah, you’ve been there, too, haven’t you?

I never stopped writing, but life came calling in the form of graduation, a career in reporting, and a hundred other annoying obligations. About seven years ago I stumbled across one of my partially written manuscripts in an old box, realized I enjoyed reading it, and thought, “Who wrote this? Me? It’s good! Oh, no, surely I didn’t write this…did I?”

It was a quirky tale about a life-weary tabloid journalist being sent to a small town in South Carolina where a whole bunch of people had reported seeing a werewolf roaming around cornfields and along back roads. She thought the whole idea was stupid, but what’s she gonna do? It’s her job to cover crazy stories. And wouldn’t you know it, the editor of that town’s newspaper is none other than her old college nemesis (and former crush) who seems determined to tag along on her werewolf-hunting adventures. Think “The X-Files” meets “Lois and Clark.”

I transferred the files from an old floppy disk (I’m really blowing you young’uns minds, aren’t I?) to my laptop’s hard drive and began typing away. It was fun to get to know my characters again. They’d changed a lot through the years, but so had I. It seemed we had a lot to talk about.

Pretty soon, I had reached “The End.” I didn’t think anything in life would ever feel as good as that achievement. A completed 80,000-word manuscript, with my name on it.

Oh, yeah, life was good.

I felt certain I would have no trouble at all of finding someone eager to publish it. But where to start? I had absolutely no idea. I was a meager newspaper reporter with no publishing knowledge outside of the roaring press that churned out the comics every evening as I walked out the door. I went to the library, checked out a dozen or so books on “How to Get a Book Published,” and went home to devour every single piece of advice they could offer. And scratched my head.

I scratched my head a lot as I thought, Hmmm, maybe this getting-a-novel-published-thing this isn’t as easy as I thought it was.

I gave it the old college try anyway. Query letters to agents because you need an agent to find a publisher. Then came the rejection letters — if I was lucky to hear anything at all — piling up my mailbox. Attending writer’s conferences in hopes of making a valuable connection, only to be told “No” in person rather than in a pesky little form letter.

My book was never easy to pitch either. It wasn’t exactly a romance, but it had romantic elements, sure. It wasn’t exactly a horror story, but I’ve been told by more than one person that reading it gave them nightmares for weeks. And comedy? Oh, yeah, there are times when my book aims to get a chuckle out of you, too.

I can’t tell you the number of times I heard friends or family say, “Well, have you ever thought about self publishing?” Sure, I could have self published my book, but call me old fashioned. I wanted to do it the hard way. I wanted a completely unbiased editor or publisher somewhere to say, “Guess what, Angie? We love your book so much, you don’t have to self publish because we’re gonna do it for you!” They don’t call me Nutso for nothin’!

I just knew I was destined to be a writer. Even on those days when I want to toss my laptop across the room because I don’t think I have any more words left in me, I always eventually find myself typing away again.

I tried another year of query letters and writer’s conferences and probably should have been completely discouraged by the reaction I received. “No.” “Sorry, your story isn’t a good fit for us.” “You’ve got a great writing style, but…”

I’m convinced this is how the Publishing Deities weed out the people who just want to be published from the people determined to be published.

My armor of determination got more than a few chinks in it before I got lucky, but Determination became my middle name! Years passed. I tried querying directly to publishers and found I had slightly better luck than trying to find an agent. Instead of one-paragraph form letters, I started receiving two- or three-paragraph form letters sprinkled with some positive, personal feedback like, “You have a great voice, but your story seems kind of far-fetched.”

Far-fetched? Why didn’t you say so? Well, I can fix that!

This is the part of my story where I have to give a thunderous round of applause to the many people, like my friend Tammatha here, who kept encouraging me to keep on fighting the good fight. I consider one of my most blessed moments to be the day I was accepted into an online writing critique group, which was populated with a multitude of talented writers willing and eager to take a gander at that old manuscript of mine. Some published. Some trying to get published, just like me. In other words, a gold mine of different viewpoints and talent.

The feedback I got from them was incredible. I found myself slapping my forehead more than once. D’oh! Why hadn’t I seen that gaping plot hole? If I had been in a Mack truck, I would have driven right through it! What do you mean, my hero seems kind of mean? Really? I quite adored him!

More query letters. More rejection.

But by this point, I was confident of one thing. I now had a publishable story on my hands. But more time passed. More query letters. More rejection.

One day, someone in my critique group e-mailed to ask me if I’d found a publisher yet. Then she suggested I try querying her e-publisher. “Your story is too good not to be published,” she wrote, nearly three years after she’d read my story (and which I took as a great compliment in and of itself).

E-publishing? Ack! No, no, no, no, no! In one of my weaker moments, I had queried an e-publisher and gotten an acceptance letter, only to decide at the last minute that I could do better than that.

Remember how I told you I was old-fashioned? I was holding out for the golden prize — print. But then I began to wonder if I wasn’t being too stubborn or prideful. We live in a day and age where Kindles and Nooks have overtaken our corner bookstores as the No. 1 place to buy the next bestseller.

Carina Press is Harlequin’s e-publishing division. I figured Harlequin was a well-known publisher, even if Harlequin itself hadn’t been my first choice of publisher either. Still. It was Harlequin.

So I swallowed my pride and told myself, “This is it. Your last shot. If these folks say No, you’re giving up because obviously no one likes your book that much anyway. End of the line.”

You’ve probably been there too, haven’t you? 

More than 10 years after that much-younger me had started tying away on a silly little book I’d hastily titled “Cryptid,” I had pretty much forgotten about the query letter I’d sent to Carina Press in January in regards to the much more polished finished product I’d retitled “Eclipse of the Heart.” I was on vacation in New York City with my niece in March, walking around Times Square, when my cell phone alerted me to the fact I’d missed a call.

I listened to the message that had been left and then nearly began bouncing all around Times Square like some kind of lunatic.

Angela James, editor of Carina Press, had personally called to tell me that quite a few people on her staff had read my manuscript and absolutely loved it. Then those words every struggling writer yearns to hear. “We want to publish your book.”

I will never, EVER delete that voice message from my cell phone. Ever.

Sure, I’m still learning the joys of line edits and rewrites — and my book is getting a new title too and still awaiting a release date— but I’m having fun soaking up this new knowledge of the publishing world, even as I finish up my next manuscript — a fantasy series I plan to pitch to Carina Press or another publisher soon.

If you take anything away from this blog post, I hope it’s encouragement. I’m living proof that if a writer has a whole lot of determination, is willing to do a little bit of hard work (okay, a whole lot of hard work), is willing to compromise here and there, and maybe has a little bit of talent too, she can finally achieve that prize that we all hope for someday — publication by someone other than herself.

Eh, so what if Carina Press is an e-publisher?

I’m pretty darn proud of myself!

And, for the record, I haven’t given up on print yet.

Two Friends Publishing First Novels!

Recently two of my friends received contracts to publish their first novels. Both will be ePublished, the other will also be in print. I will be helping both with PR work.

I am very happy for both of them, and I am looking forward to adding more PR to my portfolio. I will be working with the marketing department of at least one of the publishing houses, and I hope to learn a lot and be able to use these experiences to further my writing-related business in the future.

On another note, I am a tad jealous. Why isn’t my book being published? I have had more than one former classmate ask me on FaceBook what name I’m writing under because they have been unable to find my books. Uncomfortable, awkward silence follows my response that I don’t have anything published. I quickly add that I have made my living writing articles instead and have formally worked as a reporter. But why haven’t my books been published? One reason is that I haven’t finished anything.

I have never submitted anything or even tried to submit anything. Of course as a non-established and unpublished author you would have to actually write the manuscript before you could submit a portion of it to a potential agent, editor or publisher.

Over the years, my writing has seriously suffered. I haven’t submitted a query letter to a print magazine in forever and I haven’t written anything personal other than a blog that serves as my diary/journal and poems in years. How can I call myself a writer then?

The success of my two friends has served as a wakeup call. I have to step up my game and now is the time. I have mentioned quitting and giving up more than once but those who are closest to me won’t hear of it. They refuse to let me give up. Why? Because they believe in me. I trust and respect these people so I need to believe in me as well. I can do this. I really can.

I know depression has played a major role in all of this. The depression didn’t set in until I was in Wyoming. Before Katrina and the ill-fated move to Wyoming, I was doing fine. I was growing my writing business and I was able to pay all of my bills from payment I received from writing and writing related-work. My family and I also had some fun money, not a lot, but enough where we could go out and eat when we wanted to and take a trip to the beach. Oh how I miss those days.

Now my days are filled with me sitting in front of the computer and trying to write. Not trying hard enough and I know it but I am trying. I get bored very easily, which was a problem I didn’t have before while I was working. It was a job and I would do the research and write the article the same, as I would do whatever task I had before when I worked in an office job. I have to find a way to get back to that routine.

I also took time every night to work on my private writing. I believe the isolating myself from the world causing a severe lack of a social life and now being able to reconnect with friends on and through social networks has hindered this. I want to play with real live people, not just the voices inside my head. What I have to do now is find a balance. I miss my writing. I want to finish my stories, not just to submit them for possible publication but to be able to say I finished a story that I didn’t write in middle or high school.

I am considering self ePublishing a short I wrote during high school. I am considering attempting to expand the story though and if I do I am concerned how self publishing could affect any possible chances of having it published.

Living with depression is hard. In my mind, being a professional writer, accountable only to yourself multiply that depression at least 10 fold. Add living with a depressed and ill mother whose health, welfare and care are your sole responsibility, and at times it is near impossible to even contemplate rising above. I will continue to try though.

Again, congratulations to my two friends, and I will keep trying and I will keep you updated on my writing progress.

Write on.  

Why do you write?

By Tammatha R. Conerly

I write, well, because I am alive and I must. I am a writer. Sometimes I don’t do a very good job of writing. Sometimes about the only thing I think I write that is worth anything isn’t worth anything, monetarily, at all – my personal blog.

I pose this question because of a recent article I read about HarperCollins limiting the number of times a library can lend out an e-Book to 26. That doesn’t sit well with me.

First of all, I am a writer and I like getting paid. I have bills to pay and not being paid means I can’t pay my bills, and I’ve rather grown accustomed to indoor plumbing, electricity and having a roof over my head. I also drive a vehicle, and at over $3 a gallon for gas, it costs a small fortune to fill up. I need money. However, I also use my local library as does my mother and my daughter. We check books out. I haven’t jumped on the e-Reader bandwagon just yet. It’s in my not so distant future though and when I do, I’m certain I will be utilizing the e-books available through my local library. So, limiting a library to 26 check outs per book means that if it’s a really good book, I probably won’t be able to read it unless I’m one of the first 26 people to want to read it electronically.

Which made me ask a question of myself as the writer, “Why do I write?” I write to make a living, but before that, I write to be read. I write to reach my audience. I write to entertain. It is a part of who I am. These characters that live inside me drive me out of my mind and scream at me in the middle of the night until I give up on any and all attempts at slumber and get up and write their story. I write to tell their story; I write so others can read and enjoy their story.

I’ve been poor. I’ve been homeless. I’ve lost all of my collection of beloved books. I’ve not had access to television, and the only source of entertainment I’ve had is reading, and without libraries I wouldn’t have been able to read.

Yes, I understand that print books are still available; I believe I mentioned I don’t have an e-reader yet myself. However, I would like to think that if I had one, and a book I wanted to read was available on it, and the library had a copy of it, I could check it out digitally.

As a writer, I want people to read what I write. Yes, I still want to make a living, but I also want to share with some of the less fortunate, or just someone who utilizes their library. I want what I write available to my audience. I like people to purchase what I write, but I also want it available at libraries. I don’t want a number cap put on how often a book I write can be checked out. The more times my book is checked out the better; just like the more my book is purchased is better.

Some are saying that digital publishing will take the place of print publishing, and within a few decades there will be no more newly printed books. Personally, I don’t think so, and I really hope I’m right, especially if other publishers follow this trend of limiting how many times a library can lend out a book.

So, back to the question at hand, why do you write?

Learning how to write after depression

By Tammatha R. Conerly

As a writer, I am supposed to live in a fantasy world of sorts. At least, that’s what I’ve always believed and I’ve even had a fellow writing bud tell me that I have to be able to live with my characters and see and hear them to believe they are real or no one else will be able to either. I enjoyed living in my fantasy world for many years and for many reasons. However, one of the reasons was because I was hiding and in some cases running away from life.

Now I have known I was a writer since I was in the seventh grade. I lived in the real world, played in my fantasy world, and interchanged the two constantly in the beginning. Then I became very depressed and I escaped into my fantasy world only functioning in reality but never living in it. That was how I survived.

Now, I have a problem. My life is going really well. I’m having problems writing though. I suppose you could say it is a writer’s block of sorts, I am having problems writing for clients, general articles and I haven’t been able to touch fiction in ages. I can write an occasional poem but nothing that is going to support my family. What’s the problem you ask? My life is interesting and my imagination can’t trump it. I’m having a problem writing for clients and the general articles because they are boring and my life is exciting. I can write some pretty great things and create wonderful worlds but the one I’m living in right now, I just participate in, I feel physically, and when reality is really good, it’s hard to beat. While it truly is nice, it ain’t exactly paying the bills. Now I have to learn how to mesh my fantasy world in which I write fiction, my writing career world and reality into one.

When I first started freelancing and writing fulltime, I was very disciplined. Somewhere along the way, I lost that. I can blame the depression, it truly is hell to live with and work with but I have to take some responsibility here. I allowed myself to get off track and to become lazy. Much of my depression I fueled myself because it was related to finances, or my lack thereof. Yet I had enough work within my reach to make what I needed to pay my bills and actually have a little money left by working roughly four hours a day. Four hours a day and I could pay all my bills and have money left over for some fun. Yet I couldn’t pull it off. I would “go to work” every day by sitting at my desk and turning it on. I would try. I would pull up the site I was going to submit to, I would Google the topic I was writing on, I would open Word, yet I would rarely write anything and certainly not finish an article. From time to time, I would write a few articles but in the end, the depression would take over and I was unable to write. It didn’t make any since to me and I felt even worse. I could see the amount of money at my fingertips well within my reasonable reach and I knew it was a lot more than I actually needed yet I couldn’t pull it off.

Now, I am much better. I am still struggling with the writing though. I think it’s because I went so long without actually living that now I want to make up for lost time as much as possible and let’s face it, playing beats working regardless of what type of work you do or how much you love it. I’ve got to keep in mind though that I’ve got to learn to balance the two or I won’t be able to afford to play at all and I’ll slip back into that dark, dark whole of depression.

Discipline is the key and having a structured schedule works well for me. I actually have a few schedules for my workday so I can keep it flexible still allowing all the fun and still get my work done.

Do you have a set schedule you work with for your writing? Have you ever encountered a problem with disciplining yourself in order to get your work done?