Tell it to a Stranger

If you are like me, you haven’t told anyone you want to be a writer.

At least, you didn’t at first. And you especially haven’t said you want to be an author.

You have a big, big dream that is starting out as a tiny seedling fighting its way up through the forest floor. Any number of things can crush you down and make you wonder if you should ever try again.

So how do you begin to find out if you are any good? How do you get your writing out there, yet protect your fragile dream?

Send it to a STRANGER. And preferably a stranger who can buy it.

Yes, you heard me.

If it’s no good, you’ll get a rejection. If it’s good, you’ll make a sale. Get too many rejections and you’ll be willing to go to more strangers (a la critique group) for some help.

I know this past Wednesday Kitty recommended finding a friend who reads what you read and who already loves you and let them read your work. I don’t know what she was thinking! Or maybe she has more trust or faith in her friends and family than I do. <grin, Kitty!>

For one, I wouldn’t trust my friends and family to be honest with me. They would tell me it was great even if it wasn’t. And if the work was amazing and they told me so…I wouldn’t believe them. Secondly, their opinions matter more to me than anyone else’s and I don’t know if I could ever get my work polished enough for them to read. I would not want to disappoint.

When I first started out writing I didn’t know anyone else who wanted to be a writer…or at least no one was ‘fessing up. So I did the best I could and started submitting.

Back in university I think I shopped a novel idea around to two or three publishers and started my collection of rejection slips. Then I decided it was a lot of work to write a novel only to get rejected. So I learned about queries and sent out an idea or two for articles. More rejections.

At this point I was a university grad and had to get serious if I was going to be a writer (or better yet, an author) or my dad was going to fix me up in the family business. I picked out the magazine that I thought I’d most likely have a shot at and whipped off a query.

Sounds simple, but pre-internet this was a lot more work. To start, I had to send away for back issues so I could get a feel for the magazine. Then I had to work on my portable word processor—a bulky typewriter with a tiny computer screen. And don’t forget that drive across the border from Canada to the closest U.S. gas station/grocery/post office to buy stamps for my S.A.S.E.

And then there was the wait. (This part hasn’t changed much.)

Guess what? The editor wanted to see the article, on spec. Fast forward a few weeks and I received my first writing check from a national teen magazine for a two-page spread. Before the submission, no one else had read it. No one else had critiqued it. No one knew I had submitted it. Except the staff at the magazine.

Now, I thought, I can start telling people I want to be a writer!

Many moons later I am still working on that illusive book contract. I have less trouble telling people that I’m a writer. After selling that first article I worked as a technical writer and copywriter so I got used to the phrase rolling off my tongue. In fact, at work I always heard, “You’re the writer….can you write _______?”

All my current critique partners have started off as strangers and have become friends based on our mutual love of writing.

But even now, I have friends and family who have no idea I am working on children’s novels and I probably won’t tell them until I have a pub date to post on Facebook. Most people think I’m busy being a homeschool mom. Little do they know my late nights are spent submerged in an alternate reality. One day, soon, my writer-alter-ego will be revealed.

Here’s a fun question for our comment section today: Who was the first person you told you wanted to be a writer? And/or: Do you find it hard to tell people you are an aspiring writer?