Rancher to Writer
... And what they have in common
In the beginning I considered writing a selfish endeavor. It pitted me against my parents. My normally supportive mother wanted family secrets locked up tight, unsavory events buried and the slate kept clean for future generations. My father, the Rice engineer who lived life in black and white, considered the pursuit of a writing life “a waste of my abilities.” My husband at the time said, “I’m glad you found something to occupy your time,” said without malice, but still crushing.
So, for many years I was a closet writer who stole time in the middle of the night, or before the household stirred. I wrote in the carpool line, or the pediatrician’s office, or on an airplane, anywhere.
"It's easy to get swept up into the mystery of being a writer without understanding what it takes to succeed. My degree in statistics and finance did nothing to further my goal of self-expression. Over the years, I talked my way into graduate writing workshops, enrolled in countless writing classes offered by four different universities..."
Looking back…without regret, I spent thirty years as a volunteer, fundraising in Texas, Colorado, and Oregon, and actively serving on fifteen nonprofit boards, such as Zoo Friends and the Zoological Society of Houston, Houston Ballet Guild and Foundation, the University of Colorado Leeds School of Business Advisory Council, President Portland State University, as well as Inprint, Inc. in Houston, Texas and Literary Arts in Portland, Oregon. And many more organizations, such as Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, American Heart Association, American Cancer Society, and the Ronald McDonald house. While those endeavors were worthwhile, they got me no closer to a salable book.
Writing is like clearing brush
It's easy to get swept up into the mystery of being a writer without understanding what it takes to succeed. My degree in statistics and finance did nothing to further my goal of self-expression. Over the years, I talked my way into graduate writing workshops, enrolled in countless writing classes offered by four different universities, joined writing groups, and attended writers’ conferences and seminars from Houston to Seattle. Through it all, I wrote one book after another, five in total, honing my craft. And still I failed.
A big mistake I made was to waste twenty years writing and rewriting my first book. It did not matter if I changed characters, point of view, or the storyline, I could not get it “right,” or sold. Rejection followed rejection. I worked on the book until I’d beat it to death. In the process I learned something about the craft of writing fiction, and not giving up.
I suspect my journey is not unique to emerging writers. The struggle to find one’s voice is not pretty. It’s littered with sacrifice. Writing steals time from family and friends, and early on, my guilt held me back. But once I made clear my intention to live a writer’s life, and demonstrated my dedication to see my dream come to fruition, my family got onboard. They may never understand what it means to face the challenge of a blank page, or my utter euphoria when my words hit their intended mark, but they’re with me.
If a writer’s goal is publication, it behooves her to land an agent. Easier said than done. When a friend discovered I was a writer, she asked me to call into her new radio talk show and pose a question to her guest, a NYC book agent. No one else called in. At the end of a pleasant hour, the agent asked, “Do you have a book you’d like me to read?”
Maybe not conventional, but that’s how I landed an agent.
I was under the illusion that it was clear sailing after that. But alas, no.
Still, craft skills and my imagination only carried me so far. I doubt my literary mystery would exist had I not lived the life of the authentic ranchers depicted in SLASH PILE, and gained an understanding of the challenges they faced, challenges not so different from those of a writer determined to beat the odds..."
Each rejection, albeit “good ones,” left me more determined to write a better book the next time. To me, if I gave up, my pursuit of writing would be a selfish endeavor. But if I am able to write a novel that stirs a reader’s emotions, moves her to smile or cry, or offer a peak into an unfamiliar world, then the years spent on something I thrive on will have been worth it all.
Still, craft skills and my imagination only carried me so far. I doubt my literary mystery would exist had I not lived the life of the authentic ranchers depicted in SLASH PILE, and gained an understanding of the challenges they faced, challenges not so different from those of a writer determined to beat the odds of seeing her work in print.