- Joined
- Apr 14, 2009
- Messages
- 883
- Reaction score
- 74
I vividly remember waltzing into the local writers guild meeting with my head high and shoulders back. The majority of those folks had self-published. A real publisher had signed me. I had every right to be airy with my attitude. Even if they had a master’s degree in literature or had been fine tuning their manuscripts for decades, self-publishing had a taint to it that just made it laughable.
Yes I judged that. Yes I thought I was the cream of the crop. I don’t have the excuse of being young. I did when I wrote the novels maybe, mainly the first which was penned at eighteen to twenty-three. The sequel wasn’t even conceived until I was twenty-five and it was a few years more before I transferred the original handwritten pile of poppycock to the computer.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my stories, I love my characters and I love the foundation and heart of the story. The point I am getting to is that the writing is pathetic (Try saying that, not pleasant but absolutely the best thing I ever did). I am beyond ashamed of that harebrained chicken scratch – NOW. The truly damning aspect of it all is that it was published, meaning people have read those words and seen MY name attached. Stupid me didn’t want a penname, thinking I was proud of my masterpieces and wanted all to know they came from me. Now I have a file on my desktop with penname ideas so I can have a clean slate when/if I finish the current story.
To cover my tracks, sometimes I say they were my ‘practice novels’. Hoping to give the impression that the effort was not at full force and to lighten the stain. As a wise person said, writers who create bad books put in the same effort as those who write great stories. (Paraphrasing, but that’s the general gist I think) I agree with this. What I do not agree with is bad publishers putting in the same energy and effort as good publishers. Not even remotely close.
I was thrilled. Beyond the moon with joy when I learned the stories were going to be made into real books. I was an authentic author! Even have a couple of wonderful reviews on Amazon! (I don’t get it either.)
Sure seems I’m ungrateful doesn’t it? It’s true. I look back now as a more experienced mind and can’t help but think that the young aspiring writer could have benefited so much more if she had been rejected and told what she needed to work on. Instead, she was published with basically no editing and her own concepts for cover, title and so on. (I had to edit the editor, cause he changed crossties to crossfire – horse folks may understand) They even kept the stupid smiley face in her acknowledgements! I mean come on! It’s like letting a kindergartener supervise and perform surgery and the performance being met with wild applause. He thinks he did a great job but the problem is the patient was a doll. Wouldn’t be so great when he went to cut into a classmate to show off his celebrated skills.
Another interesting part of the experience is that they took both books, publishing the sequel (Woman of Honor?) about a year before they released the first one (Girl of Virtue?) Yep, Publish America is a learning experience and yep, I never showed my face at that guild group since then. I can only hope they have had other laughable guests to take the light off of this foolish girl.
I had more pride in those stories when the piles of loose-leaf papers were stashed in a suitcase in my closet. It’s all good though, I shall redeem myself!
Rachel
Yes I judged that. Yes I thought I was the cream of the crop. I don’t have the excuse of being young. I did when I wrote the novels maybe, mainly the first which was penned at eighteen to twenty-three. The sequel wasn’t even conceived until I was twenty-five and it was a few years more before I transferred the original handwritten pile of poppycock to the computer.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my stories, I love my characters and I love the foundation and heart of the story. The point I am getting to is that the writing is pathetic (Try saying that, not pleasant but absolutely the best thing I ever did). I am beyond ashamed of that harebrained chicken scratch – NOW. The truly damning aspect of it all is that it was published, meaning people have read those words and seen MY name attached. Stupid me didn’t want a penname, thinking I was proud of my masterpieces and wanted all to know they came from me. Now I have a file on my desktop with penname ideas so I can have a clean slate when/if I finish the current story.
To cover my tracks, sometimes I say they were my ‘practice novels’. Hoping to give the impression that the effort was not at full force and to lighten the stain. As a wise person said, writers who create bad books put in the same effort as those who write great stories. (Paraphrasing, but that’s the general gist I think) I agree with this. What I do not agree with is bad publishers putting in the same energy and effort as good publishers. Not even remotely close.
I was thrilled. Beyond the moon with joy when I learned the stories were going to be made into real books. I was an authentic author! Even have a couple of wonderful reviews on Amazon! (I don’t get it either.)
Sure seems I’m ungrateful doesn’t it? It’s true. I look back now as a more experienced mind and can’t help but think that the young aspiring writer could have benefited so much more if she had been rejected and told what she needed to work on. Instead, she was published with basically no editing and her own concepts for cover, title and so on. (I had to edit the editor, cause he changed crossties to crossfire – horse folks may understand) They even kept the stupid smiley face in her acknowledgements! I mean come on! It’s like letting a kindergartener supervise and perform surgery and the performance being met with wild applause. He thinks he did a great job but the problem is the patient was a doll. Wouldn’t be so great when he went to cut into a classmate to show off his celebrated skills.
Another interesting part of the experience is that they took both books, publishing the sequel (Woman of Honor?) about a year before they released the first one (Girl of Virtue?) Yep, Publish America is a learning experience and yep, I never showed my face at that guild group since then. I can only hope they have had other laughable guests to take the light off of this foolish girl.
I had more pride in those stories when the piles of loose-leaf papers were stashed in a suitcase in my closet. It’s all good though, I shall redeem myself!
Rachel
Last edited:
