HOW TO BE A WRITER IN (insert number here) SIMPLE STEPS

        My sister is a lawyer by day, improv comedian by night. Yes, she’s a fantastic human being. Today I texted her the following:

ME: Have you ever received advice on how to be a lawyer from someone who isn’t a lawyer? 

HER: Not that I can think of

ME: Have you ever received advice on how to pursue improv comedy from someone who isn’t a comedian?

HER: Ha. Ummm yeah

HER: This is about people always telling you how to make it as a writer, isn’t it

Every writer I know experiences the phenomenon. Often it’s in the form of an article, shared on social media by a friend or family member with no personal writing aspirations or experience. “Saw this and thought of u!”, they type, never knowing how deeply they’ve offended us through their omission of ‘y’ and ‘o’.  Then we see the title of whatever article they’ve forwarded and a part of our soul dies: HOW TO BECOME A WRITER IN THREE SIMPLE STEPS. HOW TO PREPARE TO WRITE YOUR NOVEL, IN THREE DAYS. HOW TO FINISH YOUR NOVEL, IN THREE MONTHS. HOW TO BECOME A BEST SELLING AUTHOR, IN THREE HOURS. Etcetera. Etcetera.

As I graduated from an MFA program, most of my writer friends also have writing degrees. Other friends have their master’s in graphic design, photography, and theater. All of them made a commitment to their art, both intellectually and financially. And all of them still, even after getting a professional degree, are regularly inundated with outside advice on How To Be An Artist.

When I spoke with my fellow artistically minded friends on this subject, we imagined if similar outside advice was dispensed for non-artistic pursuits.  Included below, because my friends are perfect:

“Here’s an article about how to raise your child in five easy steps!” 

“I know I’m not a doctor but you are so I thought I’d show you this list of things to do if you’re a doctor!”

“Your wrinkles! Read this interview with someone who got rid of hers!”

“All of your debt problems solved! OMG just click this link! Seriously read this!”

“READ HERE to learn how to get dressed in the morning!”

Hilarious, yes, and yet - to my writer friends and myself, articles on How To Be A Writer are equally hilarious. Why do these articles even exist? Why are so many non-writers sending them to us? Why does society think that there are simple formulas for achieving artistic success?

I planned to attempt answering that question in this post but instead I’m going to fall back on the old writing workshop fallacy of “SHOW DON’T TELL” (note to self: write a future post investigating the fallacy of “SHOW DON’T TELL”) (note to self: I don’t need to see that! ….The Comeback? Anyone?). Thus, I’ve created my own article for my fellow writers to distribute to their non writer friends. Behold!

HOW TO GIVE ADVICE TO A WRITER, IN THREE SIMPLE STEPS

So, you know a writer and you have some advice that would guarantee them unending literary success! Never fear! Just follow The Lurking Novelist’s Three Simple Steps to successfully impart advice to any - that’s right, ANY - writer!

STEP ONE: ASK YOURSELF IF YOU ARE A WRITER 

Are you a writer? 

If YES: Impart advice! 

If NO: Do not impart advice! 

If you’re struggling with this complicated concept, write down your profession or a hobby you’re passionate about. Ask yourself if you would take advice on whatever you’ve written down, from someone who has no experience with what you’ve written down. If you’re confused by the above, please get in touch with your writer friend and ask them to explain it to you.

STEP TWO: ASSESS THE DEPTH OF YOUR CONNECTIONS TO THE WRITING WORLD

Do you believe you are exempt from STEP ONE because you have a connection to the writing world, even if you aren’t a writer yourself? Step 2 is for you!

A) Is your connection in the writing world someone you actually know well? 

((Examples of knowing someone well: You have this person’s contact information (both phone number and email). You communicate regularly with this person. This person would recognize you on the street and stop to say hello.))

If you answered YES, continue to part B!

If you answered NO, do not share your connection with your writer friend!

B) Do you know the job title of your connection, and could you describe it in detail? 

((Examples of knowing & describing your connection’s job: My connection is a literary agent who represents Young Adult Fiction. Or: My connection is an editor at (insert name of publishing house) and has worked on (insert titles of projects).))

If you answered YES, continue to STEP THREE!

If you answered NO, do not share your connection with your writer friend!

STEP THREE: ASSESS YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF YOUR WRITER FRIEND

Do you know what type of writing your writing friend does? 

Do you know if your writer friend is working on a specific project?

Do you know if your writer friend has a finished project? 

Do you know if your writer friend’s finished project IS COMPATIBLE WITH your writing connection?

((Examples of compatibility: My writer friend is a fiction writer with a finished science fiction manuscript, and my writing connection is a literary agent who represents science fiction authors! Or: My writer friend is a poet and my writing connection runs a literary magazine that takes poetry submissions!))

If you answered YES, impart advice to your writer friend by sharing your writing connection!

If you answered NO, do not impart advice! Do not share your writing connection with your writer friend!

IF AFTER READING YOU ARE STILL UNSURE ABOUT WHETHER TO IMPART ADVICE, REFER AGAIN TO STEP ONE.

Ta-dah! Next week on the blog, HOW TO REINFORCE YOUR OWN SELF-WORTH THROUGH ACERBIC BLOG POSTS.

That Writer In Your Creative Writing MFA Program

Which writer are you? Not THAT writer, surely.

-that writer who name drops
-that writer who tweets their word count on the daily
-that writer who has only ever written in the first person
-that writer who always says their writing is horseshit when it's obviously not
-that writer who has absolutely no idea that their writing is horseshit
-that writer who you have only seen on social media, never once in real life
-that writer who wears fingerless gloves
-that writer who inexplicably knows all about lit mags
-that writer whose thesis would've been finished a month ago if they'd actually worked on their thesis for every minute spent on social media typing about their thesis
-that writer who has taken unpaid work from every big name NYC publishing house and lit mag
-that writer who won't stop talking about reading 'Infinite Jest'
-that writer who posts about their bank account balance 
-that writer who hides that they're financially comfortable because #starvingartistculture
-that writer who invents witty hashtags, preferably heavy on word play, for their thesis/thesis group
-that writer who overtly dresses up for a selfie with their completed thesis
-that writer who wants to be George Saunders
-that writer who instagrams the book they're reading, and also probably their cup of coffee
-that writer whose cup of coffee doesn't contain coffee
-that writer who is NEVER EVER EVER living outside Manhattan
-that writer who commutes from Connecticut
-that writer who uses writing jargon in real life conversation ("My CPs are reading my WIP, the one with three POVs")
-that writer whose number one priority is publishing a Modern Love column
-that writer whose thesis reads suspiciously like a collection of rejected Modern Love columns
-that writer who 'checks in' at readings
-that writer with the short story collection who made a few character name changes during thesis semester in order to call it a novel
-that writer who uses inanimate objects and/or food imagery as a metaphor for heartbreak
-that writer who has gotten a lot of literary mileage out of that time they changed their appearance/worked in manual labor/went hiking
-that writer who's all, "read this fantastic blog piece I did all about my amazingly talented classmate"
-that writer who's all, "read this fantastic blog piece all about me by my amazingly talented classmate"
-that writer who's all, "my amazingly talented classmate wrote a fantastic blog piece about my other amazingly talented classmate, zomg read all about it"
-that writer who always posts about how they're not going make their deadline and then always makes their deadline
-that writer who is totally writing fiction, it's just a coincidence their protagonist is exactly like them, with a slightly edgier name
-that writer who finished their thesis over a month ago but pretends they're behind so people won't hate them
-that writer who trolls
-that writer who is so busy trolling others they don't realize they're being trolled
-that writer who, with four days until thesis deadline, spent all afternoon writing a list of tropes about writers in her MFA program.

On George RR Martin and Writing Speed

This past Friday George RR Martin's publisher told The Guardian "there are no plans" for a 2015 release of The Winds of Winter, and the internet went collectively batshit. 'There Is Now No Chance George RR Martin's Books Will Outrun HBO's Game of Thrones', Forbes proclaimed. 'George RR Martin Has Some Very Bad News For Game of Thrones Readers', said MTV, while the BBC similarly observed that "This is not great news if you're a fan of the Game of Thrones books." (By the way, BBC & MTV, the correct name is 'A Song of Ice and Fire' not 'Game of Thrones', but hey - whoever heard of journalistic accuracy?) Moviepilot dot com stretched its creative wings with 'Winter is Coming...But Winds of Winter is not!'. Social media got predictably ridiculous - no doubt BuzzFeed will gather a compilation of screenshots and label them "GAME OF THRONES FANS ARE FURIOUS BECAUSE FEELINGS". You know. Etcetera.

Let's leave out the fact that Jane Johnson, Martin's publisher, never said that TWoW isn't coming in 2015. Her exact words were "I have no information on likely delivery" - not the same thing. (note, Harper Collins made similar statements in late 2010/early 2011, and Book 5 came out only six months later.) I don't want to speculate over release, but instead discuss the opinion that Martin fails his readership with his 'slow' writing speed.


I've spent a good few hours on my phrasing here, and I'm still struggling because frankly, I'm at a total loss. I really cannot understand why so many people feel that
A) GRRM's novels should be published immediately because readers really want to know what happens next
B) GRRM's novels should be published immediately so as to provide canon source material for the TV show
C) Book 6's lack of release date is offensive (and offensive enough for readers to feel they have the right to complain about it, publicly)
and, most prevalently,
D) GRRM should be criticised for anything he does that *isn't* working on Book 6.


Points A & B are simple. Fans love the story and they're anxious to continue the journey. The constant speculation re: the TV show irks me because if the show runs out of source material, well that's the show's problem. Surely Weiss & Benioff are in frequent contact with GRRM about the time table, but whether they are or aren't is *their business*. Social media perpetuates extreme fandom, with active communication between fans and the artists; the result is fans now believe that loving something begets ownership. They think that they have a say, simply through fandom.

This is a very difficult notion to accept (especially if you're a TwiHard) but You Do Not Own Something Just Because You Love It. The incomparable Neil Gaiman said it best nearly 6 years ago with this blog post: George RR Martin is not your bitch. Amusingly, Gaiman's post was written in response to complaints over *Book 5's* lack of release, two years before 'Game of Thrones' hit the screens.

GRRM not being your bitch matches my earlier point C) - the idea that not releasing TWoW imminently is offensive. FOR SERIOUS, people: HOW and WHY is it offensive? Because you want this book and you want it now? When did we all become Miranda Priestly's daughters? Furthermore why do we assume we know better than the author himself? If we love these books why don't we trust GRRM to get the job done, and trust that if there are six years between book releases that's because he needs six years to write the best possible novel?

The fans I'm judging say "Have you read his blog? All he talks about are sports teams he follows! Why is he writing about football instead of writing TWoW?"  EW wrote on Jan. 30th "George RR Martin was on Conan last night, which means that we have conclusive proof that he spent last night decisively *not* writing The Winds of Winter". I don't trust EW anyhow (they repeat both 'last night' and 'that' in the space of a few words; my MFA workshop would annihilate that sentence), but these comments are just utterly absurd. In what universe do we expect the writer of a popular book series to work ONLY ON THAT SERIES, ALL THE TIME? That's the equivalent of telling a 9-5 office worker "How dare you come home in the evening and have interests outside of your profession?" 


This loops us back to my final and most important bullet point, D). There is absolutely no precedence for criticising GRRM when he does things other than writing. He is a person. He has a life. Continued speculation that he should write speedily due to his 'advancing' age is crude and hateful and I refuse to participate in that fixation. 


So. This post officially became a rant about 1000 words ago - oops? As an aspiring novelist I'm curious why GRRM suffers a running commentary on his writing speed, especially compared to many other writers. Is it because of the television show? Because he's a series writer? Where are the articles criticising Donna Tartt's release schedule? Is Tartt exempt because she writes award winning literary fiction? Do readers think fantasy writing is easier or should take less time? Do people forget that the books in ASOIAF are over three times as long as the average novel? Do we not comment on Stephen King's age (he's actually older than GRRM) because King regularly releases two novels a year? What is the collective set of circumstances which led to pressure aimed so particularly at GRRM? I really don't know.

I also love 'A Song of Ice and Fire'. I reread the scene of Arya on the Braavos bridge in the rain so much that the page fell out of the book binding. I spent hours laughing over this. I think Jaime is one of the most masterfully written characters in literature. I'm in a creative writing MFA program because I wanted to try every day to write something I could love half as much as I love these books. I love them, I love them, and I am absolutely desperate for The Winds of Winter and A Dream of Spring. But I have no right to demand the books, or feel resentful at the lack of them. The thrill I will experience upon their release is resolute, whether release comes this year or ten years from now.

That, children, is what you call fangirling.

No Resolution(s)

Were I a different type of blogger, this is where I'd insert a jpeg of Anaïs Nin's new years resolution quote written in calligraphy and then meander over the inspirational and saccharine for six paragraphs. 

I'm aware the 'new year, new you' fixation on goal-setting exists most everywhere throughout January but it takes a particular form amongst the writing community. Lately my social media feeds are mostly declarations posted by the literarily-like-minded: word counts, pictures of macchiatos and typewriters, check-ins at amazing new cafés perfect for day long writing sessions, lamenting the failure to finish a chapter over a bottle of red. 

I find this ubiquitous but completely unsurprising: we're creative people and we strive to be inspired; New Years is a built in excuse for inspiration. 'This year I'll actually stick to my writing schedule,' we say, feeling incredibly important, while swirling Yamazaki in our recycled glass tumblers and thinking in sepia tones.

One of my closest writer friends came to my apartment a few days ago for an afternoon of red wine and cheese (seriously. This is our life right now. We never want to graduate) and inevitably the conversation turned to writing goals and social media - specifically, how sharing about writing on social media so often takes up time that could be spent just writing. My lovely friend sipped his cab sauv and quoted one of the numerous authors who adhere to the 'stop telling us about it and write your damned book already' philosophy. Of course by that point we were nearly finished with the bottle and I can't remember who he was talking about. Oops.

Truth, though. New Years aside, any given time of year I could find countless writer friends talking/typing/blogging/tweeting about the work they're doing, or want to be doing. This is where the hashtag "amwriting" comes from, yes? And every time I see #amwriting, I think, 'Are you writing, though? Or are you typing out a hashtag declaring that you're writing?' Behold, my inherent alienation from the online writing world: instead of retweeting, or liking, or commenting 'way to go, productive fellow writer!', I'm judging. I don't tweet about my writing process while I'm writing, I don't compose blog posts in between chapters. Frankly I'm just not that good of a multitasker. 

Hence, the lack of my writing resolutions: any time spent setting goals for my work, or agonizing over attempts to achieve these goals, is time I personally could better spend actually doing the work. I struggle enough with time management - I can't set aside additional time to dictate the rate of my process or, even more intimidatingly, redesign my process entirely. (This could segue into all the wide variances of writing processes, and which process if any is best. I get asked that all the time, by the way, especially from people who work in professions far outside the creative realm: what's my process, do I write every day, how do I stick to deadlines, and on and on again. I usually answer politely but privately feel annoyed; 'My process is to not talk at length about or analyze my process,' I want to say, which of course isn't anywhere near true but, writers = liars, etc.) 

I understand that everyone works in a myriad of different ways and this opportunity for goal setting against the backdrop of a new calendar breeds success for many of my colleagues. This is successful for me:

I resolve nothing because I can't afford to, literally. Choosing to forgo work and income for graduate school brought me vast amounts of student loans and I cannot afford to spend time *thinking* about how best to write. I have one semester of school remaining before I'll be unemployed and in debt. I can't think or talk about writing; I have to write. Yes, this is my 'there is no try'.

I have to finish my novel. I can't resolve to, I have to, because my novel is also my thesis. 

I have to find work that I enjoy doing, within the writing community, to justify my decision to pursue this MFA over my previous passionless career.

I have to prioritize my friendships with other writers, because these friendships not only make me a happier person, they improve me as a writer. I have to prioritize maintaining these friendships, especially after graduation when I won't have the guarantee of seeing these wonderful people every day.

I have to set constant deadlines with my thesis adviser. And I have to meet every deadline, even if its a deadline I suggested, because I have these few precious months to work with her daily. She is an infinite resource, my tuition has bought me this time with her, and I cannot be wasteful.

And, I have to submit. I have to submit articles and short stories. I have to submit my novel. I have to write query letters and prepare for sending my finished manuscript to literary agents. Half-assing doesn't work on the submitting front. One is either submitting or not submitting, querying or not querying, trying to sell their work or not. If I want to be a working, published writer, I have to submit.

I also probably have to stop starting sentences with conjunctions. Or stop apologizing for starting sentences with conjunctions. One or the other; I'm on the fence.



And, we're done. I'd say share your own resolutions in the comments, but this isn't a lifestyle blog. If you really want to have that conversation you'll have to buy me a drink first.

I need some fine wine and you, you need to be nicer.

...otherwise known as, how a terribly judgmental introvert made friends in graduate school.



On paper, my MFA program nailed new student orientation. All the first years, invited to the fifth floor of the 11th Street building for an evening of eating cheese and imbibing at the open bar. A significant step up from ice breaker games a la the human knot, yes? Despite my hermitage I wasn't too worried. Give me Pinot Noir, I thought, and I can make small talk with anyone.

Before they let us anywhere near the bar, though, we each had to stand up and introduce ourselves. Ah, impromptu public speaking. My least favo(u)rite thing after running into distant acquaintances at a supermarket, or amateur cooking blogs. After seventy-ish quiet creative types stuttered through their own three sentences of self summary I made a beeline for the bar, where I was amongst the first three people to be served.
       "This is where we find the talent," a professor remarked. "The ones who line up first for free drinks." He sounded eerily genuine. I offered my standby half-smile which often segues to smirk, got a cup of red and went to the cheese buffet.

That's where I stood, for the next forty odd minutes: against the wall, loitering over the food table, fully expecting to either be approached or accept that, 25 years after a kindergarten teacher told my parents I was socially behind, I need to sometimes make the first move in talking to people. The only person I eventually conversed with was a second year, who said he was crashing the event for free booze. He was 24 years old. I told him I had to go to the bathroom, and left.

Riveting, I know.

All appearances to the contrary, making friends in the program mattered to me. I needed any friends, period; I was alone in a new city, with my British husband across the ocean waiting for his US greencard. Beyond general contacts, though, I spent years aching for creative companions. I wanted friends I could call up, meet at a bar and bitch about passive voice over a dirty martini or three. People who I could look at and say, 'I have this new idea for a novel' and actually witness excitement in their reaction, because this is the shit that matters to them.

Note, this is also one of the primary reasons I lurked in the online writing community, rather than participate - I'm too guarded, and frankly too judgy to make writer friends online. I need to meet someone (in person) and know & trust them, weeks/months before I can throw around the term 'friend' much less 'critique partner'. I think it's lovely the community works for so many people; I wish I were one of them. Alas: leopard, spots, etc.

Nearly two months of classes passed before I made friends in the program. For me, this is a rather respectable timeframe. Hilarious; I know. I'm incredibly discerning with people I choose to spend time with, and I'm also rather prickly (especially sans wine): even if someone makes a good impression on me, I take a while to warm up enough to make a good impression on them. I knew a few weeks in that I wanted to be chummy with most of my classmates, but wanting wasn't enough. After every class my exceedingly extroverted husband would call and ask if I'd made friends and be aghast when I told him I 'just couldn't make myself'. My one victory was a chat on the subway platform with a girl from my workshop; she was a similar age to me, cute clothes, lived in my neighborhood, we even had the same first name. Plus, her day job was fishmonger. The lady was cool. 
"WHY didn't you exchange numbers?!" hubby scolded. 
"She didn't ask," said I.


I've typed all of these recollections up as though building toward a big reveal. In truth, I've no clue what changed in me - if anything. A few weeks post-subway platform chat, I watched The Fishmonger and a few other classmates leave together at the end of our workshop. They headed down 11th, crossed 6th Ave, and kept going towards the turn for Greenwich Ave, where our program's fabled bar of choice sat in wait. I'm told by the others this moment was not nearly as dramatic as I remember, but I see me pausing at the intersection for several long seconds, willing myself beyond the comforts of my solitude, then eventually running into the crosswalk and dodging taxicabs, finally catching up to my classmates at the other side.

"Are you guys going to bar?" I asked. "Take me with you!"
This part, at least, is an accurate recollection. I was out of breath and I half-laughed, because I knew I was pathetic. I literally chased them down and demanded they include me.
"Sure," said The Fishmonger.


A year later and The Fishmonger and I see each other almost every day. We've stayed out until four AM way more times than is age-appropriate, sharing a bottle of wine and talking about our manuscripts, our goals, our drunkenly bullshit views of our selves. She has keys to my apartment and I'm currently babysitting her plant (its name is Audrey). More to the point, we've taken all of our writing workshops together and I trust no one more than her when it comes to honest, productive feedback to my work. As a nice bonus, she's eons more socially talented than I and we've picked up other wonderful friends along the way, mostly due to her possessing skills that I lack. She makes my life - and, more importantly, my writing - better. I wouldn't trade her for all the online writing friends in the world.


So, ta dah! Run after your workshop classmates en route to the bar and someday you, too, might have a collection of writer friends. They won't be as good as mine, though. As aforementioned, I hold out for the best.

This is not the blog you're looking for.

Welcome to The Lurking Novelist, in which a(n) (aspiring) (professional) writer relocates from London to New York in pursuit of, amongst other things, an MFA. 

Full disclosure: the relocation and the beginning of my MFA program happened a year ago; now, after fourteen months of NYC-specific lurking, I'm dipping my heavily discounted Michael Kors ankle boots into the writing blogosphere. Full disclosure part 2: said ankle boots = the one bright spot in a year devoid of clothing purchases. Shopping was the first casualty of my grad school tuition mixed with Boerum Hill rent. I will inevitably cover this topic in numerous future posts lamenting my plight as a starving artist, the black hole of student loans, and really wonderful / terrible life decisions such as buying forty dollars worth of books instead of groceries. 

I'm embarking on 'The Lurking Novelist' because, most simply, I've lurked around the online writing community for years and never felt enough at ease to emerge from self-imposed hermitage. I'm admittedly *exceedingly* introverted and the self-indulgent aspects of blogging neither appeals nor comes naturally to me. I don't like oversharers, I don't like a written tone that's unfailingly upbeat or conciliatory, I don't like instagrams of typewriters or details of a song that reminds you of your red-headed rebellious YA heroine. I don't like many things; that's just me. I'm designing this blog as a niche, and if I'm the only one to take up residence, then, hey - at least I don't have to share my wine supply.

This is not a Creative Writing MFA-centric blog, nor is it a place where I'm striving to achieve perfect prose or capture the attention of the publishing industry. This is a blog about writing, written by a lady who doesn't like blogs about writing. If I last a month, I'll be thrilled.