My blog has been on
hiatus while I participated in my first Nanowrimo Camp. Now that the camp is
winding down, and it’s looking as though I will make the 50,000 word goal, I
can get back to blogging regularly. An added bonus: I have a new novel to fine
tune this summer. For any writers who haven’t tried out National November Writing
Month, I highly recommend it. The event is not just in November anymore (which
was always my excuse t' NOT to) Writing camps are scattered throughout the year,
so chances are there will be one that fits your schedule. There’s no excuse.
Do Nano.
Not that Nano. Trust me, the one sponsored by the Office of Letters and Light is way cooler. (Oh, if only we'd been spared the sight of Robin Williams' rise to fame!) So anyway, I’ve been thinking about that
old cliché: A picture’s worth a thousand words, which got me thinking about
Sarah Simmons from The Voice. (I know. ADHD much?)
Here’s the tie-in. The Voice is a singing
contest based on blind auditions, which shot it over Idol in terms of must-see
TV for me. It also makes for a good parallel—at least in my pole-riddled mind—to
writing and the query process. Ideally, the query process should boil down to just
a literary agent or editor and your words. The big phone call is the equivalent
of Usher or Shakira hitting the red button and making their ridiculously large
chair rotate quicker than you can say anticlimax.
Except….for us there’s no audience for
first attempts. We get no applause, no gasp of wonder—not even when a polished
draft is read. None that we can hear, anyway. I send my drafts to critique
partners, who type out comments and email me back. Everything is delayed, all
emotions diluted by time gaps and distance. It’s positive reinforcement, but it
sometimes seems more like a homework session.
That’s why I’m so jealous of Sarah Simmons. I’d
probably body-slam her if she were in the room with me right now. And I would
do serious damage (but I’d avoid her vocal cords, because that would be harsh).
I think she’ll win The Voice, and that even if she doesn’t win she’ll get a
record deal. Bummer! It’s not that she doesn’t deserve it. She totally does.
What rankles about Sarah is that she gets to Wow everyone on her way up. Case
in point:
I mean, seriously.
Check out her dad. If my dad ever expressed even one millionth that amount of
pride in me, I’d pack up writing, torch my laptop and die happy. He never will,
because that's how he is, but also because my talent is pretty boring in comparison.
Who could blame him for not being impressed? Very few people are wowed by bundles of notebook pages
and/or computers displaying screen upon screen of unbroken text. Even
someone that gets excited about writing is bound to run the other way when I
pull out my notes and first drafts. I would run. It’s scary looking. In contrast, I could watch The Voice for hours.
What fascinates me about that show is the
behind-the-scenes glimpse it gives of the work those songsters-in-progress put
into practice sessions. What once seemed effortless is revealed for what it
really is: raw talent refined with old-fashioned hard work. It’s gratifying to see something like that. To
be a part of it. All I know is that this duet sucked when they performed it for
Adam Levine. And now look.
No one wants to see a behind-the-scenes compilation
of my rewrites. Nor will they want to stake a claim in a career that might not even happen. And there's no real proof that it will. If
I were an artist, a sculptor, a Slam poet, a filmmaker—if I engaged in any
other artistic pursuit, I’d have something tangible to show for it. So yeah, I’m
going to whine a little. It’s unfair that our struggle is the exact same as that
of the singers on The Voice, yet we don’t get to hear the applause or the swish
of those chairs spinning round. One might argue that it’s because we’re not yet
writers (in the professional sense). Then again, Sarah’s not a professional singer,
either. Yet.
Maybe I should take up sculpting.
