Why Writing A Novel is Only A Small Part of Being A Successful Novelist

I have this ridiculous fantasy of being a successful published novelist. The success, published work, or writing isn’t the fantasy part…though most days, it seems like it.

No, the fantasy is, my book appears on the shelves of booksellers nation-wide. And what I want do is go to a store like Barnes & Noble, hang out in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy section, and pretend to be thumbing through my own book. When other “customers” walk by, I’ll strike up a casual conversation, extolling the quality of the book (my book) and recommend it to them.

If they are receptive, I then reveal that I’m the author, we have a laugh, and maybe I sign the book for them and we take a selfie.

Like I said, it’s ridiculous…and might result in my promptly being removed from said bookstore.

But before I reach the potential to accost unsuspecting bookstore patrons, I need to get a novel published. I’ve got on in the works I think has the potential to end up on the shelf at Barnes & Noble, but I need to finish writing it first.

Guess how many pages I’ve written so far in 2021?

Two.

You might be thinking, “If you want to get your novel published, shouldn’t you, you know… finish writing it?”

A valid question. A simple question. A question which, I’ve come to learn, has a needlessly long and complicated answer.

As it turns out, writing a novel is a small fraction of getting it published and being a successful author.

By itself, writing a novel is hard. It’s not just sitting down and writing (which is sometimes a challenge in and of itself). The finished first draft is only the first step, one that may take years…unless you’re Norah Roberts. I once read an article about her in which she claimed her average writing time for a first draft was a mere 54 days.

For a novel, that’s warp speed.

For the rest of us mortals, from the first word to the polished, final draft, writing a novel is a painstakingly long process of finding time to write, writing, rewriting, revising, editing, rewriting again, restructuring the plot, double-checking for continuity errors, rewriting some more, editing yet again, all while consuming enough caffeine to give a bull-elephant a heart attack.

And that’s just step one.

When I made the choice to pursue writing, I had no idea what I was getting into. As far as I knew, all I needed to do was sit down and start writing.

As you might imagine, nothing I initially wrote was any good. While I loved creating characters and telling their stories, I lacked a knowledge of basic craft elements. I loved to write, but I didn’t know how to write the kids of stories I loved reading.

So I took some creative writing classes. I learned the basic tenets of craft, of character construction, of plot structure and elements. I took a poetry writing class. And while I am a horrible poet (I have the poetic prowess of moldy meatloaf), this class helped develop my use of language and imagery.

I even formed a writer’s group with some friends from one of my fiction writing workshops, which not only helped me become a better writer, but develop as an editor as well.

Now, I knew how to write a story, write it well, and edit the not-so-good parts.

Surely, this would be enough to write a novel worthy of being published.

Over the course of five years, I wrote the first draft. And after several revisions and edits, I had a polished final draft. I was ready to submit my novel for publication.

Or so I thought.

“We think you should rewrite this,” was the consensus from my writer’s group after they read my “final” draft.

What…what do you mean, “rewrite?”

“From page one. Just…the whole thing.”

If it was anatomically possible, steam would have shot from my ears…and every other orifice.

But, as much as I hated it, they were right. Because it had taken me so long to write the first draft, the story was filled with inconsistencies in plot, character, tone, and even writing style.

It was a Franken-novel, if you will.

So I started from page one and did a complete rewrite. I got feedback from friends, spent countless hours revising and editing, until I finally had a cohesive story.

Ok. I finally had a polished “final” draft. Again.

Can I be a published author now?

“No. First, you need to write a query letter and a short synopsis…so you can send them to prospective agents,” said one of the panelists at a writer’s conference I attended.

What the hell is a query letter?

“I’m glad you asked. It’s a letter you write an agent in hopes that they’ll represent you and sell your book to a publisher.”

…that doesn’t exactly help.

“It’s also so you can let them know about all of the short stories you’ve had published so they know you’re a credible author.”

Wait, what? I want to write novels. What’s all this about short stories? And how do I get those published?

“Sorry, we’re out of time.”

But–

“Happy writing, everyone!”

Son of a bitch.

After talking with several writer friends and doing some internet research, I learned that, before I can get an agent to seriously consider my query and look at my manuscript, first I have to write and publish several short stories.

To prove I can write novels….I have to write short stories?

This may come as news, but novels and short stories are not the same. And no, it’s not just the difference in length.

Writing a novel and writing a short story are two similar, but different skill sets.

Being able to construct complete plot and character arcs in under 10,000 words (though in my experience, most literary magazines are looking for stories that are around 3,000 words, with a maximum word count of 6,000) is different than constructing a plot which warrants a story of over 100,000 words with multiple plot and character arcs.

I need space. I need at least 100,000 words to write a full and complete story. My first novel is a good story (or at least I think so) because I take the time to show how the characters develop, grow, and change as they progress through a detailed plot.

The quality of my short stories is hit and miss. Some are really good, while others are not. But even the good ones pale in comparison to my novel-length works. Generally speaking, several of my short stories feel rushed and the characters feel under-developed.

I’ve often been told in my writers’ group that the short story I submitted for that month’s meeting was a novel trying to pass as a short story. And my fellow writers are usually right.

But, if I want to get a novel published, I need to slog through and write some publishable short stories.

So I wrote a shit-load of short stories, ones that weren’t novels I disguise (…for the most part), did a lot of research to find places to submit them (eventually a friend would introduce me to Duotrope), and sent them off to potential publishers.

A few of them got published.

Can I submit my novel now?

“Oh…were the stories you got published the same genre as your novel?”

…no. No one mentioned that.

“Yeah…if you want to write sci-fi and fantasy, you’re gonna wanna get some sci-fi and fantasy short stories published before you query an agent.”

Aw, dammit. Fine, I’ll do that.

So I went back to the metaphorical drawing board. I wrote a bunch of science fiction and fantasy stories.

Do you know how hard it is to get a sci-fi or fantasy story published? Do you have any idea how competitive that market is? If you’re a fellow genre fiction writer, you know. If not…how can I put this accurately without falling prey to hyperbole…

Do you know how hard it is to get an invite to the Playboy Mansion AND to be allowed to hang out in the grotto with the bunnies?

Yeah. It’s like that.

It took me two years of writing, revising, and submitting to every publication I could find. And I got more rejections than that speed-dating marathon I went to back in 2009.

However, through sheer persistence and grit, I eventually got some sci-fi and fantasy stories published.

*Leans over with hands on knees, breathing heavily and sweating like a glazed ham.

Can I submit my novel now? Please?

“Do you have an established readership yet?”

*Barely resists urge to put fist through wall.

How can I establish a readership when I can’t get my novel published for people to read? Seems like a cart-before-the-horse kind of situation.

“Well, are you writing a blog?”

What? No! Why would I do that while my polished novel is collecting digital dust on my hard drive?

“Because, before an agent will look at your manuscript, they want to know how many pre-sales you’re likely to get from your already-established readership.”

Why are we talking sales? You don’t know the first thing about my book.

“Publishers are in the publishing business to make money, you know.”

Well, sure, but there’s no guarantee that even if I have a readership, my novel will be well-received. Besides, wouldn’t you want to read it, or at least read an excerpt, to decide whether or not you want to publish it? Shouldn’t quality be the deciding factor?

“How’s your social media following? Got 10,000 Twitter followers yet?”

Wait, I thought we were still on the question about–

“Get back to us when you have an established social media presence.”

…I just wanted to write a book. Was that so much to ask?

“Can you believe this guy? He thinks the best way to get a novel published is to write a novel. What a dumbass!”

…that was rude.

So, as you can see, I’ve started writing a blog. As it turns out, I enjoy writing it. And I’m starting to see my followers list slowly grow.

“Great…but do you have an email list? You can’t be a successful novelist without an email list.”

Aw, COME ON! Seriously?

“Remember what we said about sales?”

All I remember was you skirted that question like a politician.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to write the kinds of books I liked to read.

Now that I’m an adult pursuing a writing career, I do everything but write my novel so that I might one day be able to write my novel. Such is the world in which we live…in which we write? Who knows.

On a related note, if you like my writing and would like to help me get back to work on my novel, you can sign up for my brand new email list here: Sign up here!

Thanks, and I promise not to fill up your inbox like a port-o-potty at a Texas Chili Cook-off.