Savvy or Sell-Out?

A popular post from January 2008

by Annette Lyon

Some time before my publication days, I was bemoaning the fact that my latest manuscript had been rejected.

A well-meaning friend discovered a "hot" market, bought me a book in that genre, and said, "Read this. You should write a book like it. These kinds of books are selling like crazy right now."

I took the book and stared at it, trying to find a way to explain to this person that I couldn't just up and write a book for a market for no other reason than the fact that lots of people are currently successful at it.

Trying to fit myself into a mold like that would suck out any life that my writing and story might have naturally. (I know; I tried once. That pathetic manuscript will forever gather dust.)

But at the same time, writing anything my muse fancied might not be the best plan, either. I had a stack of rejections (with lots of great feedback, but rejections nonetheless) that showed something wasn't working.

It's a fine line to walk between selling out (abandoning your passion, your voice, and who you are as a writer for the sake of a market) and being market savvy (tweaking your work to make it more marketable).

It's one thing to find in yourself a passion that happens to be something agents and editors are looking for, or to adapt something you love into something that is more likely to sell.

It's quite another to decide that since books about young wizards are selling like hotcakes that you should write one too--only make it a girl . . . and give her a birthmark instead of a scar . . . and . . . you get the idea.

Even if your hot idea isn't a copy of what's already out there, there's a very good chance that the huge trend on the bookshelves right now (today, think vampires) is over and done with in the publishing houses.

Taking a book from manuscript to press can take upwards of two years, so bookstore shelves are essentially two years behind what publishers are hungry for now. If you try to write something new to ride a trend, chances are, you've already missed the boat.

The upshot: Trying to twist your writing self into a pretzel to fit a mold is selling out.

So what does a writer do when there's still that marketability factor to contend with? First and foremost, be true to yourself. Don't write a supernatural-mystery-Victorian-romance just because you heard that several agents are looking for one.

On the other hand, if mysterious Victorian-romances happen to be your cup of tea, jump all over it. You can probably work supernatural elements into the genre you already love to give it the angle the agent is looking for.

That's being market savvy, not selling out.

The manuscript I mentioned earlier saw several rejections until I learned that the heroine was a few years too young for what the market's demographic expected. I aged her about five years, tweaking a few scenes as a result, and the piece sold.

Being market-savvy is important, but never lose contact with the more important element: your muse. The trick is finding a happy marriage between the two.

10 Random Things You Probably Didn't Know

A popular post from July 2009

by Annette Lyon

In today's post, I'm listing 10 things I've discovered over the years that a lot of writers learn over the years but are generally stuff you pick up along the way and aren't things you learn in your typical workshop class.

#1) Fake phone numbers always start with 555. In fact, no state in the U. S. will give out a phone number with this prefix for this very reason. It's reserved for fake numbers in TV, movies, and books. You'll notice it everywhere. Anytime a guy or girl on a show is giving out their number, it's 555-whatever. Sometimes they try to hide that fact by using the letters on the keypad (like "My number is JKL-4378," but JKL is still 555).

I'm just guessing that this came about after that song in the 80s that kept singing the number 867-5309 (you remember that song, right?). Whoever had that number surely had to change it.

#2) If a book is found in a book order (a happy day for any author, right?), then it's been sold at a huge discount. That means that even though the author will likely sell thousands, they'll get pennies per book. In one author's words, they get paid "in paper clips." And keep in mind, their agent gets 15% of those paper clips.

#3) Most books that are optioned for movies are never made into movies. An option means a person or company has paid the author for the rights to be the one to make the movie over a specified period, say three years. If that time runs out and they haven't made a movie, then the movie rights are up for grabs again. Options can be renewed by the same person/company or bought by someone else, and I've seen that happen. Hollywood is great at optioning. Not so good at actually making movies. That said, I'd be happy with getting an option. It would probably be more than I've made on royalties for a single novel.

#4) Most authors never meet their editors. Even if they live near one another. I lived within thirty minutes of my editor's office for my first two books and never met her. For my next three, I lived in the same city as her office, and finally met her around, oh, book five, I think. We had plenty of e-mail interchanges and phone calls, but there was really no reason for us to meet. We just didn't get around to it. We've seen each other several times since (ironically, usually at social events since she's left the company), and I find that's pretty typical.

#5) With some exceptions (usually at small houses), authors have no say in regards to their cover or title.

#6) As a corollary, sometimes (at least with the huge writers) you can tell how big someone is by how big their name is on the cover. With Danielle Steele and John Grisham, for example, there are times you have to hunt for the title because their names are so big on the cover. That's because of the authors' huge fan base. They don't really care what the book is called; they just want the next one.

#7) Grammatical bloopers, typos, and even factual errors can be put into a book without the author knowing it. This is done by well-meaning but idiot copy editors or others along the line who should be flogged, because the author is blamed for them, but he or she didn't get to see the final proof before the manuscript went to press.

#8) Some lucky writers get ARCs, or Advance Reader Copies. These are uncorrected galleys, meaning that it's the full story, and it looks like a full book, and it may or may not have the actual cover on it--but it hasn't been proofed yet, so it probably has typos and it may even have minor inconsistencies (Sarah's eyes might accidentally turn brown on page 218) or whatever.

ARCs are sent out to reviewers, particularly to large magazines like Publisher's Weekly and Kirkus Review, places where book reviews mean a lot. They require review copies 3 or 4 months before a book hits stores, which means they need it before it's actually gone to press. Hence the ARC, which isn't perfect, but it's as close as you're going to get it before the book is actually on shelves.

#9) There's a good chance your publisher will expect you to do 90% of the marketing and publicity. Just expect it. It's exhausting, and there's really no way of knowing what areas of your efforts are making a dent, but you keep plugging along hoping that something is working, because of:

#10) In publishing, they figure that the past predicts the future. If your last book didn't sell that well, then your next one won't either, they figure. That can mean a rejection. Or that can mean a new release date, during a time in the year when you'll have less competition against heavy-hitters. Or it can mean a gentle nudge to try a different genre. Or, again, it can mean a rejection.

On the flip side, if your last book was a whopping best-seller, then your publisher might be your new best friend, wondering what you can give them next and how fast. It's all a numbers game, a difficult road to travel. One not for the faint of heart.

Wow--didn't expect to go from something as light as fake phone numbers to something so serious.

Rejection's Not a Stop Sign

A popular post from June 2009

by Annette Lyon

I got the chance to attend the same teen conference that Julie wrote about yesterday. In addition to teaching a workshop, I was part of a panel about the process of getting published.

We talked about the "typical" submission/acceptance process: the query, the request for a partial, a full, what an agent does, when you can and cannot submit to an editor, how to avoid unscrupulous agents, and so forth.

(Dang, what I wouldn't have given to know this kind of stuff when I was 16!)

When each of us on the panel talked about our publishing history, of course rejection came up. A lot. It's part of the business. One of the authors on the panel actually had his first novel accepted on his first try. (Yeah, I know. We can all hate him.)

BUT . . . he has since experienced plenty of rejection.

We told the teens in the room that not only does rejection happen, but it will happen. Plan on it. Being rejected is part of the business.

Sometimes you'll be rejected because you stink.

But other times, it could be for a hundred other reasons: your story didn't speak to that particular agent. Your writing voice isn't one they prefer. They just sold a book similar to yours to another house.

The fact that there are books on shelves that I love and someone else hates (and vice versa) is the same thing: editors and agents all have their own tastes.

Sometimes, finding the right agent or editor at the right time is a matter or timing and luck.

You can't blame all your rejection on back luck, however: you have to do the work first. Work hard on your writing. Make your manuscript shine. Write several books to hone your craft.

Do everything you can to make sure that when opportunity comes knocking (or, rather, when you're chasing it down and the door finally opens), you're ready for it.

Never take rejection as a sign that you should stop writing. It may be a detour, a pause, a yield sign. Maybe a moment to take another look at your work or your query to see if you can improve.

But it doesn't mean it's time for you to give up.

(Go ahead and burn the rejection letter if it makes you feel better. Just get back to the keyboard afterward.)

Beauty Out of Context

A popular post from April 2009

By Julie Wright

Several years ago, the Washington Post convinced Joshua Bell, a world acclaimed violinist, to dress in simple jeans and a t-shirt and to take his $4,000,000 Stradivarious down into the subway to play for the masses. The experiment was to see if people recognized great art out of context.

Within 45 minutes, 1097 people passed by the violinist playing his little heart out. Only seven people stopped for any duration of time to actually listen. Joshua Bell is a man who can fetch seat prices of $100.00 for merely adequate seats in a symphony hall and much more for good seats. Joshua Bell is a master. Only 7 people stopped for beauty, recognizing it for what it was.

What has this to do with writing, and more importantly with you?

I recently heard an editor say that they don't normally take middle grade work, but if Neil Gaiman walked in, they would never refuse him simply because his protagonist's were a little young for this imprint. They could say this because they know Neil Gaiman. He's been declared beautiful by literary standards.

But what if he showed up looking like everyone else? What if he came in out of context? What if he came through the slushpile as an unagented author without the Newbery sticker? Would they recognize him for who he was? A few might . . . but I'd bet most wouldn't. (and by the way, I loved The Graveyard Book)

The point is that you may be the next big thing--stamped with the approval of the literary world. Your manuscript may be beautiful, but not recognizable exactly yet. Don't obsess or let it get you down. Joshua Bell stood in the masses and played beauty. Few actually stopped for beauty. It's not to say the music was any less beautiful down there in the subways, but that out of context, it was harder to see, harder to pay attention to as the people scurried about with thier lives. The world just works like that.

Life gets out of balance and the subjective nature of art makes rejection inevitable.

Take a moment to view the entire article as it is beautiful in its own way and deserves to be read:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html?hpid=topnews

Darkest Before the Dawn?

A popular post from February 2010

A friend of mine, J. Scott Savage, is doing a class on writing at a conference. I'm not exactly sure what his class will contain, but knowing him, the class will be twenty shades of amazing. I have an inkling of what he might say at this class because he posed a question to our online writer's group. The question was, "Could any of you who found success at the brink of giving up on writing e-mail me personally with your story or respond to the list?"

Finding success on the brink of giving up . . .

I know a lot of authors who've found success at nearly the same moment they decided to give up. Because at the same time they've given up, they also decided to give it one last push, to take one last step, to try one more time.

It's a strange place to be when you know you write well, you know you have talent, you've workshopped your manuscript and edited the thing until you could almost see your reflection in its polished shine, you know your story is sound, and yet the rejection letters keep rolling in. It's almost enough to make a writer more crazy than writers are prone to be naturally. It's almost enough to make us give up.

Madeleine L’Engle decided she was done writing. She had a couple of books published and then went nearly a decade of rejection after rejection. Throughout her thirties, no one seemed to want to publish what she wrote. She covered her typewriter and walked away in a huge show of renunciation. She wrung her hands and paced in circles and cried over her lost career. As she paced and cried, she realized that she already had a plot forming of a woman on the brink of giving up, but the story arc would be that the woman DIDN’T give up and finally succeeded. She realized that even the act of quitting brought plots and characters to her. She realized this wasn’t something she could just walk away from. She uncovered her typewriter, and went back to work. A couple of years later, she won the Newbery for A Wrinkle In Time.

Jessica Day George had many rejections. She had been to countless conferences and writing retreats and editor meetings in her attempts to break into a seemingly impossible market. The last conference she attended before getting a contract, she’d decided she’d had it. She told her husband that she was done—no more. He told her she had to finish the conference she was at because they’d already paid for it. The next day at the conference, she was at a critique group. Someone whispered over to her that they liked hers best and would she be interested in attending a by-invitation-only editor retreat. At that retreat, Jessica’s editor offered her a contract. Jessica had said that she was done and she’d meant it. She felt finished competing in a market she *knew* she was good enough to be part of, but that rejected her at every turn. If she hadn’t gone back to that conference, she wouldn’t have been invited to the editor’s retreat. If she hadn’t been at that retreat, she would have never been offered the contract that gave the rest of the world Jessica Day George. Jessica's newest book, Princess of Glass, comes out in May and is available for pre-order on Amazon.

For myself, it does seem that every time I think I’m done, something happens—even if it’s a little something. I think I’m done—I can’t go further in this maddening career choice, and I get a request for a partial manuscript. I think I’m done and I get a request for a full. I think I’m done and an agent says she’d like me to sign a contract. I think I’m done and my local publisher says they want another book. I think I’m done and SOMETHING happens to keep me in the game. Something happens that makes it impossible for me to walk away. And I finally realized that, like Madeleine, the stories won’t leave me alone just because I walk away from the computer. They’ll still be there, waiting for me to write them.

And *what if* the day you decide to quit, what if THAT day is like Jessica’s day—where there is only one more step to take to make it to the finish line?

You know you're good enough to compete, you've worked your manuscript, you've taken the pains and efforts to really learn how to write, you know you're good enough to play in the big sandbox called the national market. You just have to take one more step.

Well? What are you waiting for?

If anyone else has darkest before the dawn stories, feel free to leave them in the comments. We'd love to hear them.

Take Two Tylenol and Call Me In the Morning

A popular post from September 2010

By Julie Wright

I was reading in Scientific American last night and found an article that just might revolutionize the writing industry. Apparently, an inch behind your forehead lies the place in your brain that deals with physical pain.

And apparently, lumped into that same space is where we deal with mental or emotional pain as well. You hit your thumb with a hammer, fail a test you wanted to pass, or get rejected by your one true love, the hurt registers to your brain in the same place and in the same manner. So they did a test study where half the participants were given placebos, and the others were given two regular-strength Tylenol. Then they put them in situations where they could measure the stress and strain of rejection and failure.

Overwhelmingly, the people with the Tylenol felt better than the people with the placebo.

How does this revolutionize the writing industry?

Maybe those critiques we get from our critique groups and editors won't hurt as much if we take a couple of aspirin. Maybe, because it didn't hurt as much, we'll take the feedback objectively, rework manuscripts, become better writers, and find the courage to submit.

Once we submit, maybe those rejection letters won't hurt as much if we take a Tylenol and wait a half hour before we open them? If it doesn't hurt as much, maybe we'll submit more. If we submit more, we'll probably get a few more rejection letters, but we won't give up, because it won't hurt too much. Because we don't give up, we keep submitting, and ultimately sell books.

Maybe.

It's interesting to think about how many things we don't do--that we REALLY, REALLY want to to do, because it might hurt a little.

It's interesting to think how much more NOT doing those things will ultimately hurt, than the little rejections along the way. The little rejections are temporary--like slivers. Not going after what you really really want?
Now that hurts.

A Different Kind of Rejection

A popular post from April 2012

By Josi S. Kilpack.

The kind of rejection I want to talk about today isn't from agents and editors; it isn't letters in the mail we open while holding our breath, or emails we stare at until we have the strength to read the body of the message. Those rejections suck. Really, really suck and if you're going to be a writer, you have to find some way to deal with those rejections. However, this post is about the rejection that sometimes comes from people you love and care about, people who may have cheered you on in the past, who may have even encouraged your toward your writing goal. These people might be friends, neighbors, siblings, parents, children, or even a spouse--the people you expect to be in your court, the people who are supportive of many other things in your life. But then you proclaim yourself to be a writer and things change.

Here are some examples--not necessarily writing related:

A very close friend of mine is also an entrepreneur. He's started numerous businesses in numerous industries for many years and has been very successful. A few years ago he was telling his mother about the new business he was starting and she stopped him and said, point blank, "I really hate hearing about your businesses, can't we talk about something else." It's been three years, and he hasn't talked about his work or his passion since.

One of my closest-girl friends was so excited for me when I wrote my first book. She was the first person, other than my husband and sister, that I dared tell about it and she was so encouraging to me . . . until I got a contract. We had moved to different homes by that time (we previously were neighbors) and so we saw each other less frequently, but when we spoke, she never brought up my book or asked about my writing. Not one time. At one point, around the time when my second book came out, we met up and I brought up my book that I was so excited about. I actually saw her face stiffen and her eyes narrow and after a "hmmm, that's nice" she launched into things about her kids. It was so blatant and so hurtful, but I never brought up my writing again, even though by this time it was a major force of my life.

Another friend of mine chose to pursue writing but her husband thought it was a waste of her time. He saw it as a hobby, and a time-consuming one at that, and does not want talk to her about, listen to story ideas, or read her work. At this point she's hopeful that when she gets a publishing contract, he'll be more supportive and he'll see her writing as a real thing, but for now it's a secret affair she works hard to keep under wraps.

Lastly, another friend--a writer--found the success he'd been working towards for years; a national contract. It didn't take long before he started noticing some of his writer-friends pulling away. Through the grapevine he heard of things some 'friends' said about his book, that it wasn't that good, or they didn't know why it was selling that well, and they stopped talking to him about their books and their careers. It was as though his success became a barrier between him and some of those people he thought would be on the first row of his cheering squad--people who had encouraged him when he was working toward his goal.

Obviously, there is an element of sadness in all of these examples. Because you're reading this, you understand what an innate part of yourself writing can be. When someone rejects our writing, it's nearly impossible not to take that personally--our words and our stories are a part of us. When the someone that rejects our writing is someone we care deeply about, it can be emotionally damaging. But what can we do?

First, arguing doesn't work. If you set out to 'convince' someone who isn't supportive to be supportive, you will likely be disappointed with the results--it's like paying someone to take you to prom, you'll never think back on the night and feel like your date was there because he/she wanted to be. The entire experience will be tainted and even if you successfully get them to cheer you on, you'll always doubt their sincerity.

Second, people are entitled to their opinions. As much as we would love to have their support, and as dependent as we feel on their approval, they have the right to feel the way they feel. It might not be fair and it might really hurt us, but it's still their choice to do so. Each of us likely has opinions about someone else in our lives--maybe we hate a friend's wife, or our politics aren't the same, or we value something like education or marriage or fry sauce that someone else feels is superfluous. We are entitled to a difference of opinion on these things, just as other people are entitled to theirs.

Third, we are in charge of our own actions. Just as they get to choose how they feel, we get to choose how we respond and we are then accountable for our actions. We can react any way we want to--rage, tears, sarcasm, but we then own what comes next. We can not blame them for what we choose to do with our feelings about their treatment so choose wisely the best way to move forward in your relationship with them.

In the example about the entrepreneur friend, he could have chosen to tell his mother she was rude and that she was rejecting a big part of his life if she didn't want to hear about his businesses--he'd be right, it was rude and rejecting of her to be so dismissive. And then what? Perhaps some mother-son relationships could sustain that kind of conversation, but he didn't feel that his could. Their relationship was tenuous and he didn't want to lose what he had, so he shut up and though it's been hurtful, it's less hurtful than losing the relationship entirely. He chose to take what he could get and is content with his choice.

In my example with my friend I didn't have to make much of a choice on how to react, life has taken us different places and we no longer have much of a connection. Likely a big part of the distance between us is because my life became more and more focused on my writing, and she had already chosen not to be involved in that part. I didn't fight for our friendship, and I miss her, but I've made other friends that better understand what my writing means to me and I feel a 'whole' acceptance from them that she could not offer.

In the example of the husband and wife, she only writes when he's not home, she only goes to events or conferences that are held when he's going to be out of town or that are during the day so she's back home when he gets there. They don't talk about her books, ever. Now, in this case I would probably suggest that she be a bit more assertive than I was with my friend. Marriage is a complex and sacred relationship, and her husband owes her more support than he's giving, but, then, I don't understand the complexities of her relationship and maybe she's doing the just right thing. I don't, however, think her husband will change his mind when she gets a contract--more on that later--which means she'll have to make some more decisions if she reaches that point and realizes the problems are not solved.

And, finally, in regard to my friend who noticed walls go up when he became successful, he had other friends who did encourage and support his accomplishments. He also went on to develop freindships with other similarly-successful authors who helped fill the voids and, perhaps, had gone through the same struggle. There were no confrontations or battles with the previous friends who had a difficult time, he allowed to be where they were, but nurtured more encouraging relationships.

You'll notice there are some similar reactions in all of these examples--none of the people were confrontational with their detractors, none of them put up a fight, and none of their relationships turned around--at least not yet. There's a reason I included these situations instead of a dozen others I've seen or been a part of, and it goes back to the second point I made in regard to how to react to it. People are entitled to their opinions and if we make it a priority to change their mind, we will likely fail and make these relationships even more painful. What we need to do, instead, is the following:

1--Love them anyway within the sphere or your relationship. Understand that their lack of support likely has less to do with "you" and more to do with "them." Perhaps they're jealous, perhaps your writing and/or success makes them feel small, perhaps they are afraid your writing will take them away from you. Imagine, if this is the case, how hard this must then be for them. We all know that creating sympathy for our characters is important--imagine writing this 'person' sympathetically, think about what might be in the way for them in regard to accepting and supporting you, and love them anyway. If however, the relationships has always been ugly and unsupportive, perhaps you should be evaluating the relationship in it's entirety--I have no specific advice in regard to that. Find a good counselor :-)

2--Stand up for yourself. This doesn't mean putting on a face mask and confronting them, but it also doesn't mean completely hiding who you are to make them more comfortable. If it's someone in your own home you need support from, tell them you need it and set up ways they can support you such as respecting a certain space as your writing area, or specific times as your writing time. They might not like it, but if you don't respect what you do and find room for it it in your life, they never will either. This can be tricky--you don't want the paid-for-prom-date scenario--so just do one thing at a time and see where it takes you. I do know writers who have successfully changed these types of relationships, and it happened because the non-supporter finally realized how important the writing was to the person he/she loved. Don't try and ignore this part of who you are, but don't throw it in their faces either. This is especially important in marriage relationships, where people have promised to support one another--it's not inappropriate for you to pull the 'married' card on this, but do it in a loving way and see it as a growing experience.

3--Find relationships that do support you. And keep looking until you find them. They are there, I promise you they are, but they might not come from the people you're surrounded by when you start your journey--then again, they might. You may be able to make changes in long-standing relationships and make them more positive through this, but keep your eyes open for new freindships and professional relationships that can also nurture your writing.

4--Make sure you are supportive of the people around you. You could very well be an un-cheerleader for someone you love and not even know it. Take a look at your family and friends, your spouses and children--are you in the front row, cheering them on in their passions, or are you in the back corner, nurturing your own resentment and envy? If you are bitter, why? What is it about their choice that is so difficult for you? Do you see YOUR writing as more important than their goals or passions? If so, I challenge you to take the journey to identify what might be in your way of supporting them and see if you can't do better. Self-awareness is a valuable experience.

5--Write anyway. Even if you have to make adjustments or have limits with your writing in order to keep important relationships in tact, don't let someone else choose for you in regard to making writing fit into your life. Writing for most of us feels like a calling, a role we were designed to fill, find a way to fill it, even if no one thinks you should. If you don't have the support of the people who could make this easier for you, don't give up--find a way to make it work somehow, pray for guidance, continue to grow. While the husband-wife scenario related earlier is troublesome and easy to judge that the husband is a jerk-face, I very much admire the fact that the wife has kept writing anyway. THAT, more than anything else will likely be the factor that changes his view of her. She is being diligent, and I admire that very much.

If you haven't yet dealt with any of this, prepare yourself for it because I don't know a single writer who hasn't faced this at some point. Some 'rejections' are more intense than others, but I think all of us will have someone who otherwise loves us but is threatened by our writing in one way or another. It's a sad reality, but reality all the same and, as I stated, once this happens, it's up to us how to deal with it.

May we find those people who will always be on our front row and may we never be the un-cheerleader for someone else's accomplishment. I'd love to hear your stories and how you've dealt with it in the comments if you feel like sharing.

Happy Writing!

Dear Good Luck Elsewhere . . .

A popular post from May 2011

By Julie Wright

Dear Good Luck Elsewhere . . .

As I’ve grown through the years as a writer and gone on to complete over a dozen books, I’ve glanced back at some of my rejection letters. Some of them are priceless—hilarity on a sheet of paper, some of them are painful, like walking ten miles on shattered glass on your hands and knees. Some are insightful and helped mold me into a better writer.

I was doing a school visit with author Jessica Day George, and we both shared horror stories of our rejection letter woes with the kids. It's a surreal moment when you sit up and pay attention to another person's story because it sounds so familiar--so much like your own.

Jessica talked about her first rejection letter, how she received the envelope and thought it was awfully skinny and small to be holding her huge advance check and the contract that would name her the most brilliant authoress ever born. And so it was with horror that she realized the itty bitty slip of paper that looked oddly like a sales receipt was really a rejection letter. Several rejection letters later she got a one that was a couple of pages of personal notation by the editor. usually if the editor sends a personal note, it means they saw some sort of spark they want to fan. They usually only take time out of their busy lives to give personal messages to writers with potential, but this particular message wasn't sent with thoughts of helping this young author improve. Jessica describes it as being like a scene from Mulan, "Dishonor on your house! Dishonor on your family! Dishonor on your cow! Dishonor, dishonor, dishonor . . ."

My first rejection letter said something like, "Dear Conrtibutor, We're sorry but your submission does not meet our publishing needs at this time." That was all that was written on the quarter sheet of paper. I wasn't even worth a whole sheet and the use of my name.

The worst letter I ever received during all the years of submitting was the one where the editor told me they hoped my main character would DIE of a drug overdose because she was THAT unlikeable.

That one letter sent me into a miserable pitiable absurd state of existance for about a year.

That book was later published by a different publisher and to this day, I still receive fan mail for it. I guess not everyone wants her to die of an overdose . . .

The letters are part of the business. They are a horrible part of the business, but a part none-the-less. If you keep at it, you'll find success. Elana Johnson who has her amazing debut book "Possession" releasing on June 7th received many such letters, the kinds where they call you dear author, or dear contributor, or they fail to address you by any such dignifying title at all. Her absolute success came because she refused to give up. Jessica Day George is the same way. They are amazing women. They've done amazing things, and it shows that they are strong and capable when they refused to let the letters that send a visceral ache through them get the better of them.

It is a part of what we do but sometimes you can laugh at the silliness of it. (Yes Marion Jensen . . . I just pulled out the silly word).

So . . . what's the worst/funniest/craziest letter YOU'VE ever received?

2010: Looking Forward

by Heather Moore



I literally gained ten pounds writing my most recent book. It wasn’t really that I ate more chocolate (although that could be true), or ate more fast food to cut back on shopping or cooking time (although that might be true as well), but as I became so caught up in finishing the project, it seemed that every spare moment was be used in writing, not exercising.

This week, I managed to go running (30% running/ 70% walking) three times. This is a record since probably, oh, August. Because it’s freezing in my city, I dragged my 12 year old with me to the local rec center to run the track. Monday was quiet there, Tuesday was busier, and by Thursday it was packed.

As we maneuvered ourselves in and out of other eager runners, I told my daughter, “It will stay packed like this through January, then by the first week of February only a few will remain.”

Ah, the New Year’s Resolutions, and the initial burst of energy and determination that fades almost as quickly as it starts. I have seen this lately with many writer friends. Queries have been sent out in a flurry in November and December, many times unpolished. Rejections have already filtered in, and discouragement has set in. One of my friends, after four rejections in just a few weeks, completely gave up.

It’s hard to stay motivated and positive as we write and submit. We might spend a weekend researching agents and by Monday morning we have submitted to six or eight of them. But in a recent WD article, agent Ann Rittenberg says she receives 3,000 queries per year, and 75% are for novels. Of that, 90% are for first novels, meaning 2,000 queries are for first novels. Ann says that “80 percent of those query letters about first novels never should have been sent” (“Submitting Your Novel: Basics of a Solid 3-Paragraph Query,” Writer’s Digest, January 2010, 62). Ann also says that many of those queries are for types of books that she doesn’t represent, or it’s obvious that the writers “were not ready to be published and the books were not ready to be agented.” (ibid)

But what if we are ready? We’ve finished the book, gone through revisions with trusted editors, written a powerful query, and we are still receiving rejections? Do we stop going to the track? Stop running altogether?

Looking forward to 2010, my advice is:
1. Use rejections to improve your work. Slow down a little and put in the right effort to submit to the right agent. Researching agents and/or publishers will be worth your time.
2. Understand that the submitting process is a waiting game, which means that you need to have more than just one writing goal.
3. Stay open to ideas and options. There are many genres and avenues you can get published through.
4. Don’t just set "be all, end all" writing goals, but set back-up goals when you reach that left turn.
5. As we know, writing is not for the faint-hearted. It’s wonderful to create, but there will come a point when you feel as if you are slugging through the muddy marshes of revising.

James Michener said, “Being goal-oriented instead of self-oriented is crucial. I know many people who want to be writers. But let me tell you, they really don’t want to be writers. They want to have been writers. They wish they had a book in print. They don’t want to go through the work of getting the damn book out. There is a huge difference.” (as quoted in WD, Jan 2010, 46)

Will you still be “running” in February? I hope so!

Subjectivity and Quality

by Annette Lyon

Generally speaking, if you hand over a really bad writing sample to a qualified reader (such as an editor or agent), they'll likely recognize it as trash.

Do the same with a mediocre piece of writing, and the result will be the same.

But what about works that range from pretty good to really great?

Says who?

There's a huge range where opinion and subjectivity step in. It's why agent after agent passed on Harry Potter before someone decided they loved it . . . and it did what no other series has ever done in history.

It's why some people hate Twilight while others are obsessed with the series.

It's why you can find rejection letters out there addressed to some of the best writers the world has ever created.

And it's why some people love Faulkner while others can't stand him.

Once a writer reaches a certain skill level, "quality" becomes a bit vague. Objectivity exists only to a point.

Remember that when submitting your work. I've followed agent blogs where they admit that a writer had the chops, but that the style or topic just wasn't their cup of tea, or they didn't think they personally could sell it.

Recently I've been involved with a published author awards program and the judging involved with it. It's been fascinating to hear different judges' opinions. By and large, certain books had a consensus (this one was really great, that one was really poor). But several titles garnered totally conflicting opinions.

In several cases, judges were stunned that certain titles weren't finalists, while another judge might have seriously disliked the same book.

Each and every judge was extremely qualified. Yet none of them had the exact same opinion, and sometimes they clashed on what was a quality book and what wasn't.

Of course you should constantly try to improve. After a rejection, analyzing your work critically to see if they're right can only help.

But at the same time, remember that sometimes a rejection simply means that you haven't found the right person to look at your work yet. Maybe it is fantastic, and you just need to get it into the hands of someone who "gets" and likes you and your style.

Here's one more evidence that writing can be extremely subjective: personally, I never did see why so many people like Faulkner. Ugh.

The Mighty Dollar

by Annette Lyon

Take a guess at what type of letter I recently received that included the following phrase:

"You are a fantastic writer"

No, it wasn't from a reader (although I've certainly welcomed the few letters like that when they've arrived). It was a rejection letter.

Yup.

The reason this particular publishing company gave for passing on the project is the bane of many writers’ existence. Regardless of how the reason is phrased, it all boils down to the same thing: Money.

Publishing is a business, and if a company thinks that they’ll likely sell 15,000 copies of a book that’s moderately good and only 1,000 copies of a darn-tootin’ amazing piece that just isn’t quite as marketable, take a guess on which they’ll pick.

Some presses do take on the occasional book that they know won’t sell much—but they’re only able to publish it out of love because they’re making enough money on the cash cows they’re already selling. It’s the best-sellers that essentially finance the work of the occasional little fish they give a chance to, regardless of quality.

In my case, the target demographic was deemed too small to make the financial investment viable for them.

In your case, it could be any number of other things:

• The genre is currently saturated.
• The genre is no longer "hot" and sales are declining
• A book very similar was recently published (by them or a competing house)
• A similar book was recently submitted by a best-selling author (guess whose they’d rather take, a big-name author who will sell thousands just by having their name on the cover, or an unknown writer?)
• The target audience is unproven as eager book-buyers
• The publisher is unsure how to market the book and reach its target readers
• The manuscript is too long to make a profitable product with an unknown writer (Note how short the first Harry Potter book was. There’s no way anyone would have let even JK Rowling get away with a 700+ page tome her first time around. She wasn't the mighty JK then.)
• The book has lots of sub-genres, making it difficult to classify
• You don’t fit the publisher’s typical tone/voice/style
• And so on.

None of those mean your book isn’t well done or publication-worthy. It just means that the publisher isn’t ready to take a financial risk on a project that may or may not throw them into the red.

What do you do? Study the markets. Find where you belong. Revise your manuscript if need be so you can fit those requirements. Or find another market that's a better fit.

What you don’t do is throw it on the garbage heap.

Sure, indulge in self-pity and some Rocky Road for a little while. Then get back out there, keep writing, and submit again. And again.

When No Criticism Is Bad News

by Annette Lyon

As I judged a writing contest this last week, several commonalities struck me about the entries.

A few things cropped up over and over again:

• Point of View issues: No point of view. Or poor execution of point of view. Or some funky version of an omniscient narrator. None of which worked.
• Telling instead of showing, which is especially weak when it’s during moments that should be tense or emotional.
• Punctuation mistakes. Not only were sentences punctuated incorrectly (which editors hate), but a lot of the time the wrong punctuation made the text plain old hard to decipher. Good punctuation acts as sign posts so the reader knows what belongs where, who’s doing what, and where the pauses belong. It’s worth learning how to do it right.
• Awkward or stilted dialogue.
• “It was all a dream” cop-out endings.
• Starting in a boring place—often way too early—and including lots of extra back story and other elements that didn’t belong to the core story.
• Padding sentences with extra baggage, like the piece that used the term, “a forest of trees.” (As opposed to what, a forest of pretzels?)

As I made my way through the entries and jotted notes in the margins, I found a pattern: The worst entries had very little red ink, while best ones were covered with my scribbles.

At first that made no sense.

After a little reflection, the reason dawned on me: The best entries were ready for polishing. I could indicate redundancies, awkward sentences, or motivation issues. I could make concrete suggestions for improving a paragraph or a description. These authors knew enough to take such suggestions and run with them. They have the basics down and just need someone to point the way down the path and give them a nudge to get going.

What I’ll call the “non-winning” entries were on a different level altogether, and not in a good way. The majority had major problems—problems that went beyond what I could suggest or help with in a quick margin note. With these writers,“Show this,” “Begin with the moment of change,” or, “Be sure to keep a consistent point of view,” would be like speaking a foreign language to them.

So I had to sit and stare at those stories to figure out what to say to their creators. Where do you begin to point out a path to someone when they aren’t even on the map? To use a different metaphor, I can’t suggest how to decorate a house when the foundation isn’t even in place.

I tried to give some kind of constructive suggestions to everyone, but it was tough. The non-winning folks got a lot of “fun image”-type comments and have large sections with no red ink at all, while the winning entries almost look like I bled on them.

I feel bad about that; I hope the winners don’t get discouraged but instead see the feedback as a chance to grow and improve as writers.

Next time you enter a contest or get feedback from an agent or editor, keep this in mind: The more specific the criticism, chances are, the better writer you are. If you stunk, there would be no way to point out every weakness; the judge/editor/agent on the other end wouldn’t know where to start.

The moral of today’s post: Never look at feedback as merely cutting you down. Instead, open your arms and let it in. It only goes to show that you’re already good, and weighing the suggestions carefully will only make you better.

Who's Your Threshold Guardian?

by Annette Lyon

In a recent post I discussed common archetypes for characters and what their roles are in a story.

One of them is the Threshold Guardian. Often the TG is an actual person (the troll on the bridge who refuses to let you pass), but other times it's an event (Cinderella's dress is ripped to shreds, so she can't go to the ball).

Generally speaking, the Threshold Guardian isn't the main antagonist to your hero, although the TG might be one of the antagonist's underlings. But the big battle to defeat that person will come later.

What the Threshold Guardian does is throw up a brick wall to your character's progress, preventing your hero from making a big step forward in the story--a crucial step, something absolutely needed for the hero's growth and, possibly, survival.

At it's simplest, the meeting with the TG is a test. The hero's job is to prove himself or herself worthy of being a the hero of the story. It's also to prove just how badly the hero wants the goal at the end. (How much does Dorothy really want to get home?)

Your hero will encounter more than one Threshold Guardian, and always at pivotal moments, when two possiblilities are faced: turning back or making a big leap forward when the Threshold Guardian is overcome.

Lately as I've been contemplating this particular archetype, similarities to real-life situations have surfaced in my mind.

All too often we get a rejection on a manuscript or run into some other barrier in our writing or elsewhere in life and feel as if we have failed, that we've reached a dead end, that the universe doesn't want us to progress.

What if instead we seized the problem and recognized that these blocks are tests? What if we moved forward to prove ourselves, to show how badly we want to reach the goal at the end--so we know for ourselves just how much we want it and deserve it?

These are moments where the future hangs in the balance, and the direction the scales will tip is based entirely on what your next step will be.

Will you throw in the towel, deciding that this test is actually the end of the road? Or will you analyze your manuscript again to figure out why it wasn't acceptance-worthy? Will you rewrite and submit again? Will you quit? Will you whine and complain?

We are the heros of our own stories. When a problem rears its ugly head, recognize it as a Theshold Guardian and what that means: It's an obstacle that will give you the chance to grow, to learn, and to prove yourself.

Most of all, it's a temporary obstacle. And it's worth getting around, defeating, or making allies with so you can continue your progress, eventually reaching the end of the yellow brick road so you can click your ruby slippers.

What the Heck Does That Mean?

If you’ve ever received a rejection letter, you know that sometimes the comments you get back almost make you glad an editor or agent didn’t accept your work. I was looking back over some recent rejections, and I couldn’t help but wonder how I could interpret them to improve my writing for a future submission. In the end, I decided I couldn’t. But at least their responses told me where NOT to send my next manuscript in the eternal quest for publication.
Here are a few examples so you can see what I mean:

“Thanks so much for your suggested article. We will consider this as we plan our editorial calendar for future issues.” So, does that mean they might contact me someday? Should I wait around until they decide? Will they ever let me know? My questions are nearly the same for the rejection I got that said: “I’ll keep your name in my file.” Is that a good or bad thing? Should I worry or just wait for them to swoop across the internet lines, asking me to write a multi-million dollar project?

How about this one: “Thanks very much for your query. We appreciate your thinking of (small press publisher), but unfortunately, we have too little time and too little reader-power to give your project the attention and time it deserves. So until we have 26- or 28-hour days and many, many more readers, we must regretfully decline your query.” Huh? Are they saying I’m too good or that my project is too big for their house? Were they trying to be funny?

After nearly I year, I got this from a big name publisher: “While I enjoyed reading your manuscript, I am sorry to say that this particular project is not right for our list.” So glad they enjoyed it, but a year? Come on. Even I can do better than that with the 185 essays and short stories I get each week from my students.

When it comes to rejection letters like these and the houses they come from, I often find myself using the same phrase my husband hears at work on the film sets—Moving On!

Introducing Our New Critique Forum: MONDAY MANIA

The editors at Precision Editing Group are pleased to announce our new on-line critique forum.

And you won't even have to go anywhere. Right here, on our Writing on the Wall blog, we'll post YOUR queries or first page of your book [about 350 words]. You'll receive same-day feedback on your query or first page from our editors AND readers.

How it will work:

1. Each Monday, hereby called MONDAY MANIA, we'll post 1-3 queries and/or first pages on the blog. As a reader, you'll be able to read the queries and post your own comments. Please keep your comments constructive and in good taste. We want to set ourselves apart from other blogs and stay helpful and professional. Our editors will also be reading the submissions and posting comments as well.

2. Email your query or first page to: editor@precisioneditinggroup.com If we receive it by the Friday before, we'll post your submission the following Monday by 12:00 noon, MST. You are welcome to request that your post be shown anonymously. Please remove any highly-personal information.

3. You can email us your submissions any time. If there is a backlog, it may take longer to be listed on the Monday Mania blog. Keep checking each Monday for your submission. Meanwhile, feel free to comment on queries and first pages submitted by other writers.

We hope this will prove to be a constructive way to earn immediate feedback from two of the most challenging writing processes. When you submit to an agent or publisher, your query and your first page has only seconds to capture attention. We want your submissions to rise above the slush pile.

Pushing the Envelope

by Lu Ann Staheli

So many want-to-be writers have the same roadblock stopping them from success—they don’t send enough submissions.

For some, the fear of rejection stops them from actually sending their work out to editors. For others, they are so busy worrying about the arbitrary rules set down by publishers—no multiple submissions, agented submissions only, wait 6-10 months for a response, etc.—that they either wait months at a time for a rejection that is sure to come or they fail to send their submission to a house or publication that might be waiting for just what they have written.

All too often, today’s publishers do not even respond to submissions, SASE or not. The author who follows the rules might wait for a long time, never having the nerve to send the same submission to another house, always in hopes that the one place they’ve sent it will come through in the very end. I hate to break your bubble, but that scenario isn’t likely to happen.

So, if you want to increase your chances of publication, you have to break the cycle of follow-the-rules, then sit and wait. Here are a few tips to help you get around those roadblocks and into the fast lane toward publication, even if it means more rejection.

First, let me assure you, a fast rejection is not a bad thing. The quicker you find out who doesn’t want your manuscript, the better chance you have to find the right house or publication for your work. A quick rejection will help you cull the list of potential markets for all of your work, saving you the trouble of submitting again and again to an editor or house who isn’t a good match for your style.

Next, remember that multiple queries and multiple submissions are two separate things. There is absolutely no reason why you can’t send several queries out for a single project at the same time. The likelihood of more than one publisher wanting to grab it up is slim, and even if they did, what a great place to find yourself. That is how bidding wars that drive up an author’s advance and the final contract percentage happen with books. I know one writer who had two houses buy the same non-fiction book from the same query. The author took the same information and wrote one book from a humorous slant while the second was for the more serious sportsman. Two advance checks and royalties for the same work, all because he sent multiple queries for a project he believed in.

As for those editors who say they only accept submissions from an agent, this may not be entirely true. Some editors will accept queries from anyone, agent or not. Others will accept queries and submissions from people they have met (interpret this to include spoken-in-front-of) at a writer’s workshop or conference. If you’ve attended a conference, or if you belong to SCBWI, it doesn’t hurt to add a label on the outside of your submission envelope stating this.

Even a rejection of a particular manuscript or idea does not mean the editor has rejected you altogether. Pay attention to any notes or comments you might receive that encourages you to submit something else to the same editor. I use a self-addressed postcard with check-off options in my submissions. Many times editors will choose the option that states: “Although this manuscript does not meet my current needs, please feel free to query me on another project.” I always take advantage of that invitation, and so should you.

Editors can’t buy your work if they don’t know you’re out there, so, if you’re sitting around waiting for that response from a single editor, wait no more. Get busy and send your query out to additional places who buy the same kind of pieces. Every time a rejection comes back, send the query out to another house. Keep track of where and when you are sending, then be ready to smile when the request for a completed manuscript a contract offer comes through.

“Failing Like a Champ”

by Lu Ann Staheli

Several years ago, I attended a conference where author Jerry Spinelli (Eggs, Little Brown Young Readers) recounted his long path to success. He reminded the audience that failure is more common that success in the world of publishing. “It’s how you learn to deal with failure that determines who you are,” he said. “I wrote for twelve years, writing four books before I made my first sale. I was failing like a champ.”

Spinelli continued his advice with, “Never waste your failures. Whether you sell the book or not, what do you do? Write another one. Why doesn’t everyone see that?”

I’m sure many of us feel like we are failing like a champ. Although I’ve had publication success via many venues, there is still that elusive desire to sell a novel that burns deep within me. I could ignore those feelings which have lived with me since I was a child, forcing myself to be satisfied with all the other writing I have sold, but as any of you who are serious about writing careers will understand, quitting the dream is not really an option.

Next year celebrates the twelfth anniversary of when completed my first novel. Since then I’ve finished three more. True—none of them have yet sold, but I’m feeling my time is coming. I’ve had my failures, now it’s time to have my successes.

Maybe Jerry Spinelli and I will have something more in common, and someday having a Newbery of my own would be nice, too.

How Sweet It Is

By Annette Lyon

With all due respect to Stephenie Meyer of Twilight fame, I don’t think she can possibly get it. It’s nothing personal; she just can’t, because she’s never been there.

I mean, hurrah to her for having a raging success with her first attempt at a book and her first attempt at publishing (two things that are about as likely as getting hit by a meteor and lightning on the same day). Hurrah for selling insane numbers of books and having a raging successful series.

Sure, I’d love to have her royalty checks, her book tours, her movie options, her fans. Her royalty checks. (Oh—I already said that one.)

But you know what? I don’t think there is any way she can appreciate those things, not really. I read an interview recently where she admitted that she was very lucky, that most writers face lots of rejection and still might never get what she was essentially handed on a silver platter.

Good. I’m glad she’s aware on some level that she won the publishing lottery. But she can’t internalize what that means, because she has never faced the decision of wondering if she’s kidding herself for trying to get published after trying for way too many years—if the nasty note on her last rejection meant she was an idiot for pursuing her dream. She’s never worked and worked at her craft, slaving over every word and rewriting ten drafts to make sure it was the best she could make it—and then having it cut down again.

While I’d surely enjoy all the perks she has, there is a big part of me that doesn’t envy her one bit.

Why?

Because I have faced rejection. Lots of it. I’ve had to pick myself up, dig deep to pull out the dream I had of being a writer since I was a little girl and put myself out there—again. I’ve faced harsh criticism from editors and judges alike and managed to dust myself off and try—again. And again. And again.

I’ve learned a lot because of all that. I’ve developed a thick skin. I’ve matured as a writer and as a business person. Heck, I’ve matured as a woman. Another benefit is that rejection doesn’t sting so much as it used to—I know now it’s not personal.

But the best part is that I can bask in the glory of success, because it tastes so much sweeter after experiencing failure.

When I got the call from my publisher saying that they had accepted what became my first published novel, I managed to keep it together on the phone. Then I hung up and burst into tears and shrieks of joy.

Without the tough road behind me, I wouldn’t have had such complete satisfaction, the feeling of “Yes, I finally did it!”

When my first royalty check arrived, I bought a fantastic microwave (not a car or a house, alas). To this day few things are more beautiful to me than that appliance. Not for its “melt chocolate” setting, as much as I love that, but because it represents a long battle and ultimate victory.

Since then, I’ve continued to work hard. I’ve continued to have rejections. But I’ve also had a gradual increase in my successes.

And you know what? I appreciate every scrap of success that much more because it was earned, because I know all too well what it was like to not have success, yet to ache for it.

Meyer can enjoy her millions of copies in print. Meanwhile, I’ll be enjoying myself as I melt chocolate with my microwave—my personal symbol of just how sweet success can taste.

Writing school of self-taught

By Josi S. Kilpack

I was recently interviewed for an article and the journalist asked how I learned to write. I hadn't thought about this for awhile, and even after the interview was over I found myself going back to this one question. I do not have a college degree, I wasn't on the newspaper or yearbook staff in high school, I never won a writing contest or took anything beyond 101 writing classes in the one year of college I attended. I don't say this to brag, it's rather deflating to see that I missed so many opportunities--but I did. In many ways it made my road a harder one, I started several layers lower than most would-be-writers, and yet, I have written seven novels and my ability to write has definitely improved. Somewhere, somehow, I learned how to write. But how?

In dissecting the answer to that question I have found three points that were true to me, and I believe they are true to other writers in varying degrees as well. Not only were they helpful in the beginning, but they continue to be powerful. My challenge to each of you, is to consider each point in your own experience and your own writing, see how it measures up and if your current ability could be enhanced by going back to one of these points that perhaps has weakened.

1--What others Write--After I started writing my reading changed. I found myself taking apart books I read, even going as far as to write down what I liked and didn't like. I would often end up with things like. "I thought the main character was shallow." Then ask myself "Why?" At that point, I had to figure out why I felt that way so as not to repeat the mistake. Or perhaps I would observe. "I really liked the way the romantic tension increased" and ask myself "Why?" and I would ponder on this and answer it, thinking of ways I could use this information in my own book. This was MY university--the School of Other Writers. It's not simply 'editing' as you write, it's focusing on specific points, researching, putting into words the impressions you get.

2--Books on Writing. My first writing books were purchased without any recommendation. I simply went to Amazon.com and looked up writing books. They showed me the most popular ones and I bought three of them. To this day they are three of my favorite books, I go back to them again and again. Since then I have met many more writers, I've joined writing book groups, and I have a shelf of writing books to reference. No matter how many books on writing I have read, I find something I didn't know before. Rather than read them straight through, I often study a specific element such as "dialogue" and look it up in several resources to see what each author has to say about it so as to get a universal view.

3--Rejection Letters. The best thing that ever happened to my writing career was a lengthy rejection letter on my first book. Yes, I was hurt and emotionally wounded for a day or two. But when I got over my self-pity I realized it was like getting the answer sheet for a test in school. They rejected me, but they told me WHY. I was able to take different points of that letter and research them. Those weaknesses in my first book often show up over and over again. When I get a new rejection I get this "buzz" as I scan it looking for what I need to work on--it's like that friend who really will tell you if that dress makes you look fat. Are the editors always right? No--but they do read a whole lot of manuscripts and they didn't like mine. Knowing why helps me fix that one part rather than doing a complete overhaul.

All three of these things take effort and time--what have any of us accomplished without investing these two things? All three of these things are available to everyone, there is no discrimination, no entrance exams, no ACT scores required. And each of them will strengthen your writing--I guarantee it.

But Fear itself

Josi S. Kilpack

Fear is what stops most of us from writing or finishing our book--fear of rejection, mediocrity, and regret. The fear will paralyze us if we let it. So don't let it. Here's how:

1--Learn your craft; if you've never taken a writing class, read a writing book, or attended a writing conference--do you know how to write? If you don't know how to write, you will either a) Have no confidence in your writing and avoid finishing it because you know it's not very good b) Have too much confidence in your writing that has no basis in reality what so ever.

2--Set yourself up for criticism; join a writing group, submit articles, enter contests. You WILL need a thick skin to be a published author. There is no way around it. Once you get some criticism, some rejections, some failures, you'll realize it didn't make your head explode and that you survived it, which means your head likely won't explode if a publisher rejects your work down the road.

3--Keep going; when I hit a road block (which I do OFTEN) I set my timer for 30 minutes and make myself write. When the timer is up I breathe a sigh of relief and do something different, with the knowledge that I did my 30 minutes that day, and by doing so I am still moving forward a little bit at a time.

Regardless of whether you take this advice, I will make you these promises:

You will be rejected
You will be criticized
You will always question yourself
You will never overcome your fears completely

So, if you will experience these things anyway (and remember, I promised that you will) why not take my advice and face it as head on as you can. Learn to write, take rejection, and keep going. It's the only way to get to 'The End'. Writing is hard, fear and self-doubt sucks, so...write anyway :-)