The Devil Made Me Do It

Being an author is having angels whisper in your ear - and devils, too. ~ Graycie Harmon

In September, my publicist (I love saying “my publicist” – a term that I wasn’t even aware existed until fairly recently) sent pre-publication copies of my book out for review. The goal is for the reviews to come out in early December, just after the book is released. One copy went to a colleague who works for the same newsletter for which I write. Last week I spent an entire day with her and she didn’t mention the book once. I did not ask her about it, respecting her right to do her job honestly and unhampered.

However, there is this thing that happens when you know that someone has your book – you want them to read it and you only want to hear good things. This is a huge risk, because in general, many people will not read or like my book.

I could not stand it anymore, and I wanted to know the truth. In short, I succumbed to the voice of the devil whispering, “ask her.” I figured if she didn’t like it, I wanted to know sooner rather than later. So, I asked her, and she liked it and all is well.

Eventually, I will run into someone who doesn’t like it, and I need to be prepared for this. After all, the point is not whether people like the book – it is whether they find it helpful. What good would it be if people liked it but it didn’t help anyone? I think my ego can stand some criticism.

Prenatal Publication Syndrome

Publication - is the auction of the Mind of Man. ~ Emily Dickinson

I am starting to feel like a pregnant woman who just felt the baby drop. The book will be out in 5 weeks, and in this case, a premature birth would not hurt the baby and could help the mom. I am asking all the questions a mom would ask, such as “will I love it?” and “will it be OK?” I am starting to think about details like, “If someone asks me to sign it, what will I write?” A book about hepatitis C does not lend itself to, “Have fun reading the book.”

Gosh, the book isn’t here yet and already I am thinking about nursery schools…

My Affair with TED

Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. ~ E. L. Doctorow

When talking to the dog, my husband referred to me as “Our Lady of the Perpetual Computer.” This simple statement speaks volumes. First, it points out where I spend the bulk of my life. Second, it strongly hints that my husband grew up as a Catholic. And finally, it appears that my incessant attention to the computer leaves the dog as the only able-bodied being in our household left for conversation.

My reliance on the computer leaves me feeling schizophrenic. It is both a necessary tool and a distraction. This morning I was looking up a quote and moments later, I was watching TED videos. (If you don’t know what TED is, I don’t know if I am conferring a blessing or a curse by telling you about it. TED is amazing, but very distracting.)

Writing demands complete faithfulness to its craft, a faithfulness I willingly betray on a regular basis. I guess you can say I am having an affair with TED.

Interruptions

Writing is a way of talking without being interrupted.  ~ Jules Renard, Journal, 10 April 1895

This quote is true, that is, as long as I don’t interrupt myself. When I lose my determination to stay focused, I am continually yielding to distraction. This is like having an inner monologue that is actually a dialogue between myself and my interrupting self. I don’t like to be interrupted by my husband, so I suppose I should stop tolerating my own interruptions!

To illustrate my point, here is a little humorous distraction:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oHBG3ABUJU&noredirect=1 

Coaching

Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.  ~ Franz Kafka

A writer I greatly admire is surgeon Atul Gawande. He wrote an interesting article titled Personal Best for the New Yorker (October 3, 2011). Gawande noted that top athletes and singers have coaches and wondered why other professionals, such as surgeons, didn’t have coaches. Few of us will reach, let alone sustain peak performance, so why don’t we get help?

I attend writing seminars and read books about writing, but I don’t have a writing mentor or coach. My excuse is that taking time to learn about writing takes time away from writing—an excuse that is flimsy and ridiculous. I am open to having a coach, and although I am not actively pursuing one, I bet one will drop into my life as soon as I put the period at the end of this sentence. Do you have a coach, and if so, care to recommend him or her?

Here is the interview with Gawande (This link will take you to the entire New Yorker article): http://marketplace.publicradio.org/display/web/2011/09/29/pm-the-benefits-of-having-a-career-coach/