When I got in this business – by which I mean, when I actually sold – I was so scared of deadlines that I tried to finish books three to six months ahead of time.
This is relatively easy when you have one book a year, or even two. Because I write every day – or everyday there isn’t some crisis going on. Um… okay, half the days – I was always early with books and developed a reputation for it.
Then came a time when I had to take three/four contracts a year. And I started slipping a little. Yes, I write very fast. Yes, given a quiet day and eight hours, I can do twenty thousand a words. But a novel is not twenty thousand words and cap it. A novel is coherence, an idea that forms before hand, and in my case, SF or historical or even “just” fantasy there’s research and worldbuilding.
Some of this overlaps writing the last book, but it’s difficult. Say, you’re in the twenty fourth century and reading everything about Tudor England. Language leaks in, if nothing else.
Also, I always wondered if Misty Lackey was talking about writing when she came up with the magic for Valdemar. Trust me, when you write books back to back without down time, or – worse – using the downtime to catch up on editing and shorts and stuff, you get the sense that your “channels” have been “stripped.”
When you are, as I’ve been for most of the last five years (yes, yes, you don’t know, because a lot of those are closed pen names or other type of work) on six books a year, well… All it takes is one cold, and it pushes everything else forward, and suddenly you’re two years behind on a series (Noah’s Boy for the Shifter’s series) and wondering how the hell you got there.
Because, you see, this writing thing is not just writing. At least not for traditional press work (though I’ve found also not Indie. I’ll explain later.) You write, then send it out, then it comes back, usually, with an editorial letter of some sort. Then it goes back and comes back with copyedits. Then it goes back and comes back as page proofs.
Each one of these is GUARANTEED to come when you’re in the middle of the trance on another book – the part of the book where you’re eating, breathing and sleeping the characters and the situation. It stops work on the new book AND makes it difficult to “tune in” to the book under revision. Oh, and if it’s a messy revision requirement, it’s bound to come with “ASAP” stamped on it. Did I mention you have no control over these, which go at the house’s pace? Yeah. Once, I decided to go to the front room of our house to get something as the taxi that would take us to the airport and for a two week vacation in Portugal pulled up. While picking up whatever it was (I THINK a book) there was the “thunk” of a package on the front porch. Fedex. Revisions and mark upon one of the musketeer’s books, which had then to be accommodated in the suitcases. (Let alone if it had been five minutes later, it would have had to wait two weeks, which it couldn’t, by house schedule.)
Now that is one part where I can see Indie helping. Yeah, I know, I’ll still have edits and “revisits” to the book, but since it’s on my schedule, it’s easier to control. And maybe I can get a handle on this. OTOH as I’ve pointed out, for the foreseeable future I’m living in two worlds. (When I was little, I saw this act in a circus where a pretty girl stood with a foot on each horse, galloping side by side. I still have no idea HOW she did it, but I guess I’ll have to learn.)
What this means in practical terms is that on top of the madness above (and I have three books due at traditional presses this year – two overdue, which IS a full schedule for most authors, as well as a book overdue at Naked Reader and two more novels with them (Orphan kittens which already has cover, and a fantasy one and a collaboration with Amanda Green [Rye Crisp – a paranormal mystery]) and a few short stories too and a few books I want to finish for Goldport.) I also have to keep on top of software and the changes in platform at various retailers. And I have to SOMEHOW redesign my web site. And, oh, yeah, a bunch of the short stories I have set aside for Goldport Press need a rewrite. And, oh, yeah, the Marlowe mysteries short stories are doing well for me, and I’d like to finish the novel and give it a chance, but – as with the Red Baron one – this almost requires my going away and hiding so I can immerse myself in the time period.
And through all this, rewrites requests will continue to come, and requests for submissions, and page proofs and… And my health seems to be even more … uh… amusing than it’s been for years.
Who, complain, me? Did I ever say I didn’t want to live in interesting times?
If you need me, I’ll be under my desk, braiding my hair and studying a rewrite letter. Then this afternoon, I’ll be working on one of the late books. I have a nervous breakdown penciled in for 2020, and I intend to enjoy it thoroughly when the time comes.
It might be the only way to get some rest around here.
According To Hoyt 
“As soon as this rush is over, I’m going to have a nervous breakdown. I worked for it, I deserve it, I’m GOING TO HAVE IT!!!” [Very Big Grin]
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EXACTLY. I need a poster saying that for my office wall.
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Sarah, see: http://www.cafepress.com/circlebdesigns/3817110 [Wink]
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The solution to getting all of this writing and revising done ahead of time is really quite simple, Sarah. Cloning! I’ll let you know when I’ve worked out all of the pesky science part of this process, but I think it should be fairly easy.
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You best not let ‘them’ know you have that break down scheduled for 2020. ‘They’ will let you know that you already have a book tour scheduled.
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I am nowhere near your productivity or skill level, but I’m running into this as well. My goal is to set my precious morning hours to the New Work (whatever it is) and the evening hours to editing/rewriting/blurb writing for Old Work. I haven’t succeeded yet, but I’m still trying.
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Seems that you need to make more money so that you can pay the necessary help in order to make the money in the first place. ;)
Indie work can be easier on the scheduling side, yet some manage to back them self into a dark corner. Real life example: Releasing the first part of a series, written long ago, for free in a rather well circulated move to promote the upcoming release of the second book is is rather nice for a new author. (Or pen name.) Almost everything is right, including the announcement, release date and IIRC also an excerpt at the end of the book. Website is ok, social media usage too. So what was the problem? Not releasing the book on time or even close to it… Instead books one and two of totally new series were released, then followed by a rewrite of the original book. And no, $author does not write as fast as Sarah.
So, don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep. Yes, you authors get bitten by the muse and just have to write other stuff. Still, you should know if you have the next book ready on time before kicking of a 3 month promo campaign with culminates in the release of the same book…
Don’t back yourself into a corner unless you really have to.
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…and this is the Other Big Reason I’ve never bothered to try to get published: It isn’t so much Deadlines, as People Riding My A– About Deadlines (which also, in a way, includes the tale of the FedEx package appearing five minutes before leaving for vacation: Um, Dude — what part of the word “vacation” did you NOT F—ING COMPREHEND? Oh, you waited until the last moment to decide to send it back? Guess what my mother always told me? “Lack of planning on your part doesn’t constitute an emergency on mine.”)
[sigh] Yet another part of the Real World where I can never fit in.
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How much time do you spend organizing your future? I ask because if I was lucky enough to be in your shoes I think I would take a calendar, break it up into serviceable chunks (for me this would be 2 week segments, but you write so darn fast that one week segments might do), and then I would start assigning projects to those time chunks. I’d also add one week of “extra” for every 4 weeks planned, as things often go over their scheduled time.
I’d also prioritize my projects by money, and be really clear up front with other editors as to why their book will not be touched until your schedule opens. “Sorry, I’ve got a 20k novel on my desk right now. Yours will be finished just as soon as I am though with that one.”
I have absolutely zero idea of how reasonable an editor might be about when you can return changes on a novel, but knowing in advance that they are going to come up might at least let you set aside time for them. You might have to prod your editor to get you your edits in the time you allotted for them, but at least you will appear pro-active.
Finally, you know you can say no. Actually you can’t. No is a bad word. Never use it. Instead say yes, but them demand more money. This is doubly true of people you no longer want to work for. When that lousy editor calls with a 3k book deal that will take 5 years to see the light of day and demands all electronic rights forever, just smile and say you’d love to do it, but you’ve got 5 novels on your schedule already, and each of them is paying you 20k. If you want me to open my schedule, you have to pay me the same rate.
You probably do something like this anyway. If so, kindly ignore. All I know is that if I’m too busy with work it means two things: 1) I need to budget my time better, and 2) its time to raise my rate again. Sure its a job, and sure you like to write, but you HAVE to own it. It should never own you.
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Eric,
I do schedule my time. The problem is what I call the train wreck effect. I’ll schedule, say, a week between projects and then something happens and it’s two or three weeks. So everything gets pushed. Then something happens again.
Scheduling by money is difficult as a lot of what I’m doing is indie and ALSO as contracts are contracts, so…
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Ever hear of the Tragedy of the Commons? This is what very self-employed persons faces. Every person you do business with has a schedule. Each of them will work hard to not make their schedule slip. And each of them, even though they all are well meaning, will see passing off their scheduling problems onto yours as reasonable. If you only had one editor to please this would not be an issue, but when you have many, and all of them are vying for the same small piece of your schedule, then trouble ensues. Instead of death by a thousand cuts its death by a thousand scheduling conflicts.
My projects are on the whole much shorter than yours, but my deadlines much closer. For instance I’ll be going in to a client this afternoon on a project that was supposed to deliver last Friday. The network will demand their art on this Friday instead, but the reality is it will not get done until Monday. The delay in this case is all at their cause (they couldn’t commit to a design, mostly because it is a BIG show for them, and thus there are too many chiefs trying to help decide), so I have no problem telling them that great line from Toy Story 2, “You can’t rush art.” Except its not me saying that. Its my client telling her client that. (I don’t work for the networks, I work for an ad agency that works for the networks)
Anyway, this is why I now schedule my work based upon what they pay. Since everyone will want to drop off their problems onto my lap, I can either not do the work (which I am loath to do as I have developed a fondness for eating) or I can can make them understand (in the language of business; money) that their problems can be fixed, but only if they pay me for their mistakes. If I’m going to be a whore for their mistakes, you can damn well bet I’m going to be a high priced one. After all, I have my dignity to maintain. ;-)
I actually do quite a bit of indie work. A good friend of mine is a micro-publisher, and I often typeset books for him for a small royalty. I actually enjoy doing the work with him, and I don’t mind this kind of gamble (royalty money is always a gamble). But I had to learn (the hard way) that no matter how much I love a project, no matter how much I love working with the author, I cannot let the non-paying, or low-paying work take precedent over the work that pays my bills. I learned that the only one who is looking out for my best needs is me. No one else. And if I don’t stick up for me, who will?
For me at least it was never really an issue with scheduling, but one of self perception. I had to learn to see myself as important enough to not take shit from my clients. This was very difficult for me as I really like to make my clients happy, sometimes to the point where I am not happy. The funny thing is, changing my perception about myself actually increased my income. As I started to see myself as more valuable, so did my clients.
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Eric,
Very quickly — I have a blinding headache, which is why I haven’t blogged yet — you’re ignoring ONE thing. As an artist you have a bazillion possible customers. I have… the big six. If I get a bad reputation at one of them, I’m screwed. Beyond that, I’m up against “How things have always been done.” To take a page from my grandmother’s sayings “For far too long publishers have had the knife and the cheese.” Yes, this is changing, but for now the habits of interaction remain. IF I were so foolhardy as to set my back up and say “you’ll get this when you get it” or “you’ll have to give me edits at time x” it would be the last time I worked for them. And the laughter — gales of laughter — would shake the foundations of the Earth.
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Sarah, I suspect (and I think you implied this) that if you used that tactic with one publisher, then the other publishers would hear about it and “pass on” your next book to them.
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Not NECESSARILY, but it’s a distinct possibility, yes. I already have my political beliefs against me (yes from all sides. Why?) so I don’t need a bonus negative mark.
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Sarah,
I’m sorry you are suffering a headache. I hope it has passed. They are never fun.
Just so you know, I work in a small industry, a sub-branch of advertising. There are maybe 1000 to 1500 people working in this area, but because what I do is such a niche job, there are maybe a dozen or so people who can choose to hire me at any given moment, and at least that many other freelancers. The field is small and VERY competitive. Also I am for all intents and purposes the sole source of income for my family. Mortgage, school, groceries, etc. All on my back. Don’t think I don’t have any skin in the game. I’ve made major mistakes with my clients. One of which probably cost me north of six figures in terms of lost income. So when i talk about managing my clients (because I do to the extent that anyone can) you can be damn sure every decision is done with careful deliberation.
I also am very careful to nurture my relationships with my clients. I attempt to be polite and respectful to them, and I demand (softly but persistently) the same respect in return. I have a deep passion for doing each project well, and have a compulsion for speaking up when someone is not. I don’t get mad at the people, I get mad at the poor work. You might think this would be considered a negative by my clients, just like you might assume telling them you are too busy to work on their stuff would anger them. In my case at least, you would be wrong.
People are funny. They respect you more if you are perceived as “valuable”. Why? I don’t know. I only know it works. So I never turn down a client just to say no, but I often turn down work because I am too busy. For some reason this makes one the “forbidden fruit” or whatever. Like I said, I really don’t know why it works. What it does do is make them think I am a valuable property because everyone else in town wants me as well. So while I’m happy to share with them whenever I get 2-3 calls in the same day for my services, I NEVER tell them when I go a month without a phone call. It is an impression I attempt to maintain, to mixed success, but it does work.
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Tolladay, writing is probably one of the very few professions where scheduling can go to Hell in a handbasket before your feet hit the floor in the morning. Because most writers work at home, there are an infinite number of things that can — and do — happen to interrupt. Everything from calls from school to the electric company shutting off service in the neighborhood to repairmen coming by. Then there are the extraneous things — the neighbor who is having trees cut down, your cat that just ate something and is now leaving “gifts” all over the house. Any and all of which can take you out of the “zone”. Before you say you can leave and work somewhere else, that doesn’t work for a lot of writers. There are those who are able to work in only one or two very specific locations.
Then there’s the fact that sometimes your muse just doesn’t abide by your schedule. There are those writing jags that can last days or weeks when all you do is stumble to the bathroom, pray someone remembers to bring you food and drink all while you keep butt in chair as the words flow out. If you’ve never been held by one of these spells, it’s hard to describe. Basically, nothing exists outside of the story and you have to get it down. And that plays hell with any sort of schedule you might have.
As for scheduling edits, the only time you can do that is when you are talking about your own edits. You have no control over when your publisher is going to send you back the first round of edits or the page proofs. Nor do you have any control over how long they give you to send them back. And no, most editors aren’t going to take kindly to you telling them they are going to have to wait as you finish another project for another editor or, worse, for yourself. In fact, I can almost guarantee you that if you tried it, they’d go running back to look at your contract and see if there isn’t that horrible clause saying you can only work for them, or you have to submit your ideas to them before taking them anywhere else. And, yes, if they are petty enough — and I have heard of some who are — they will make your life miserable if you don’t kowtow to them.
One solution is to have enough money to be able to hire someone to clean the house and to deal with the mundane paperwork stuff that comes with running a household and being self-employed — which writers are. But most of us don’t make that sort of money. Hopefully, we will. Until then, we learn to exist on coffee and chocolate and less sleep than we should.
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Amanda, with all due respect, I do not believe there is anything intrinsic to writing that makes its scheduling any more difficult than any other complex task that needs to be accomplished over a specific amount of time and has a lot of people involved. That the task of writing/managing several books can be demanding, maybe even a major PITA, does not mean it cannot be done, or even done well.
Maybe I’m completely wrong, but its been my experience that with complex tasks there is always one person with whom the buck stops. I think most authors fit this description in terms of traditional publishing. I’ve spend a lot of time playing that role, and it can be very unfun. But it also can be very rewarding, if you can learn to thrive with the kinds of stressors involved. Managing one’s time budget is an art, that requires patience and creativity, both of which are traits that most fiction authors excel at. Assuming that something is “just the way it is” makes for a boring story, and IMO is a waste of perfectly good creative resources.
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I wish you were right, and I’ll grant that you are for some writers. But, if you look, you will see that they have a support system — be it spouse willing to be pushed aside and ignored for long periods of time or housekeeper/nanny for the kids and errands and such — and who also happen to be deemed “best sellers”. These are the only writers who can tell editors and publishers what to do and when to do it and that is rapidly becoming a thing of the past.
The problem is, in my opinion, that you are looking at writing like most “jobs”. It’s not. Writers are like long haul truckers in some ways. Yes, folks rely on us to deliver the product. But we are at the mercy of the “weather” and have many unforeseen delays, delays we have no control over. Once we deliver the product, we have no control over when it comes back to us. Sure, we can tell our editors that we are about to go on vacation and it’s their problem that we won’t get edits back to them on their time frame because they didn’t get it to us soon enough. But guess what, there is nothing in the contract saying when they have to get edits to us and how long we get to look them over.
More than that, unless you are a Stephen King or Nora Roberts, if you take that stance, you won’t get another contract with that publisher and they will warn others in the field about your “bad attitude”. For authors who want to go the traditional publishing route, that means you have just committed professional suicide.
There is something else to consider. While any writer can set a word or page goal for each day, that doesn’t mean they can write something that’s readable by doing so. There are writers who don’t thrive under that sort of pressure. Their muse shuts down. So you can’t say I will have this book written and ready to go to the publisher by X-day and I will only work on it for so many hours each day leading up to it. And, honestly, the writing part of the process is the only part where you have at least a modicum of control over scheduling.
Just as we quit using a certain artist for failing to deliver on time when I worked for an advertising agency, I know of editors who have dropped authors because they haven’t delivered on time — and it was the author not delivering according to the editor’s arbitrary schedule the author wasn’t consulted about. Because of that, when we get edits back from and editor and we are in the middle of something else, that something else is usually put on hold until we get the edits back — and that kills the schedule because it then takes time to get back into the voice of the work we’d had to put on the back burner to keep from pissing off the editor who, if they accept our edits, will then be sending us the next part of our “advance”.
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Almost everyone likes their think their particular circumstance is unique. I’m no different in this regard. That being said I find no evidence for the process of writing to be any more unpredictable than any other long-term complex project. Ever built a house? Written a piece of software? Practiced medicine in an emergency room? Worked in advertising?
I’m not saying authoring isn’t difficult, obviously it is. I’m not saying unpredictable change isn’t an aspect of the job. What I am saying is that one can learn to manage the level of change, to predict it, plan for it, and schedule for it. That doesn’t mean any unpredictable changes will go away, only that one is prepared for them when they do come.
It might help for you to know I don’t have a job, and haven’t in years. I’m self-employed, just like you. The only difference is my projects are much shorter, and the pay is better. But then again I have to work in advertising.
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We’re going to have to agree to disagree here. Just a word, just because you don’t find any evidence of something, doesn’t mean it’s not true. And to answer your questions — yes, I have built a house and written software and worked in advertising. The latter you’d know if you had read all my previous response. I’ve also taught and practiced law. So I am well aware of outside influences in delivering on projects. Since we are at opposite sides of this issue — and since I’ve been willing to admit there are some writers who do have the power to do as you seem to think we all should be able to do but they do it because they are “best sellers” and not the writer in the trenches — I don’t see any reason to continue the discussion.
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There is a story by Spider Robinson — it was in one of his shorts collections and I’ve no idea where I’ve mislaid it, and haven’t time or energy for digging down on it — about a pair of hapless burglars who break into an abandoned house (lawn unmowed, papers and mail piled up) only to find themselves prisoners of an author in throes of creation. Sort of a cross between Home Alone and Niven’s The Most Dangerous Weapon.
The collection also had, as intro to a story, IIRC, one of the finest tributes to good editors you’ll ever read. Ben Bova turned down a story submission, telling Robinson (then just breaking into the industry) to cut half the words and resubmit. The story was already as tight as Robinson could imagine it being, it was bloody perfect and he sent it around to the other magazines, accumulating various forms of polite demurrals.
Put in the drawer for a year, pulls it out during a dry spell, sufficiently desperate for cash to butcher the story in hopes Bova might still want it … and after cutting half the wordage discovering the story to be vastly better.
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Putting something in the drawer for a year is the best thing most of the time. I struggled with The Brave And The Free for six months, and knew something was wrong. It wasn’t till a year later, under the influence of Leonard Cohen I admit, that I realized I had the main character ALL wrong.
This is part of the “not being under contract” being a good thing. I can shove it in the drawer for a year, finish something else to pay the bills, then go back to it. Some things just pour out, around and over obstructions real life throws in the way, like A Few Good Men did, not even waiting for me to finish research, and yet, when I do research afterwards, proving right on target. And some come through “ill tuned” and need to go into the drawer for me to figure out how to go back to the drawing board.
On the writer in the throes of creation — LOL — my poor children grew up with this. Unlike Heinlein (reportedly) I don’t flop on the sofa and moan, but I do run to my husband in tears and tell him I forgot how to write, and I can never do it again, or even that the novel is smarter than I. I also become so foul tempered that even the cats avoid me. Then there’s the other side of this, when the muse is riding hard. I’ll start writing, stop only for meals, bathroom breaks and showers, (sleep is optional) then seemingly wake up two weeks later and find that the kids are recycling underwear, they’ve all been living on pizza and burgers (this was before diet) and there’s a an inch of dust and cat hair on everything. I think it’s telling my family doesn’t even complain anymore. The expression around the house is “mom came down with a novel” as if it were a dread disease.
To be honest, if I feel it coming, I’ll cook for a couple of weeks and freeze stuff, then iron enough clothes to last them that time. It’s, you know, like I’m going on a trip or something. (If I can afford it at the time, I DO prefer to go for a hotel for those jags.)
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Eric,
It shouldn’t be any different, and it annoys me that it is. It annoys me that my subconscious can shut tighter than an oyster with constipation (don’t go there) and NOTHING comes out. I’ve spent days on end, struggling to write, and unable to think past a sentence or two. My body has developed this fail-safe system too, when I try to force the writing. I’ll fall asleep. At the keyboard. Sitting up. And no, my chair is not that comfortable. This first started during a write-for-hire book that I REALLY didn’t want to write, but since then I’ve noted it happening whenever the subconscious deems it’s not “ready”.
Also, listen to what Amanda says about blacklisting in this field. I have a friend whose book sold massively for midlist and who was STILL blacklisted. Not even small press would buy her next book. Why? HER AGENT claimed she had a “bad attitude.” (For HIM she did. She demanded accounting!) Publishing is an insane business, and the fact they’re losing control seems to have made them crazier. I’ve heard stories about advertising, but I’m not sure publishing is saner. On the contrary.
Oh, and almost all mega bestsellers in this field had a spouse who also worked on their career. I don’t, because there’s that “food on the table” thing my husband does. Well, he helps with my career, but only in his spare time. And there’s the boys who eat both our lives. Not complaining. Our choice. But…
Ah, well, everything is changing, including our home life as the kids get old enough. In some ways that’s probably what’s making me jumpy.
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As you noted: another advantage for Indie Publication. A major factor in stress is being unable to exercise control over your time — say, by having an editor or two drop a manuscript back on your lap and telling you “I’ve scheduled it to go to press in # weeks, so I’ll need it back as soon ASAP,” disrupting the tale you’re trancing on, your attendance at the kids’ games/science fairs/presentations/bail hearings, the day at the spa getting your hands and fingers reset – ahem: massaged – and the planned gourmet dinner à deux with your spouse at the drive-thru.
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I am beginning to get the feeling that writing is like pregnancy and giving birth, in that once the process is begun it does not ask you when — and if you are lucky you don’t have complications or back labor.
Once again I conclude that those who write for a living suffer from a compulsion to do so. Otherwise, why would you put yourself through all that? It also seems that finding a way around the present gatekeeper system is worth the risk.
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Yes, it is a compulsion.
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