Hello, faithful readers. I’ve already posted once before on this blog, and I figured that would be more than enough to sate you, but apparently not. I’ve been informed that I have to keep doing this ‘blog’ thing regularly, just to keep people happy. (Very important people who are in no way made up or imaginary.)
So, since you demand more, I assume there are swarms of you trampling each other, trying to claw your way to the top of a heap of people—which I picture as a furiously combative, writhing mound of flesh, teeth and razor-sharp fingernails—in a valiant effort to read my second round of musings, and thereby gain my approval. (You there— yes, you! The one on the top holding the flaming pitchfork, with blood smeared on your face like war paint! That’s good work. Keep that up.)
I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I’m going to be a non-stop font of relevant content. But being relevant isn’t what I’m about! I’m Gideon U. Eklund! I’m here to demonstrate my non-stop incredible wit, talent, and GOBS of humility! As I frequently inform people: my humility is THE BEST. It kicks the crap out of other people’s lesser, flawed humility. These other people usually appreciate how humble I am, or ask me to “please get off of the table and stop shouting, sir, because this is a Denny’s.”
That being said, I have decided that I’m going to throw you guys some tips that I’ve personally adopted in my own life, mostly in regard to being a writer. (You may find a gem or two in there, or find it all to be complete garbage, but whatever. I’m not responsible for your horrible taste.) These are things I hold true to, and if you want to throw some more suggestions in the comments, feel free, but keep in mind that I’M the important one here. Don’t steal my thunder.
There’s no rhyme or reason to these, and they aren’t in a specific order of importance, but they’re advice from Gideon U. Eklund, so obviously, they are ALL important. Strap on your swim caps, (but seriously; we need to talk, because that swim cap makes you look like a nerd,) and let’s dive in!
1.) Refer to yourself as a writer, but don’t overdo it, and don’t be a smarmy dick about it.
Yeah, you may have a day job— who doesn’t? We all need to pay bills. Not everyone is a published millionaire author, so most of us have jobs, because life is cruel and unfair. Your forty-hour-a-week job at that call center might be how you pay the rent and support your ill-advised coke habit, but unless you plan on living your life telling people about great travel packages, or how to reset their high-speed internet modem, you aren’t a “call center employee.” To clarify: there’s no shame in telling people what your day job is if you want to. (Especially if your day job is ‘Space Cowboy.’ You should always open with that. Why are you even here?)
But, if you want to feel like a writer, you need to be a writer. Not because that’s where your paycheck comes from, (it may not, yet,) but because that’s what you do. It’s who you are inside. You don’t have to have a dozen novels under your belt, or published articles in fancy New York magazines like all rom-coms say you should have; but if you are a writer, and are genuinely working to make that your career in some way, then you need to own that shit.
It’s the mental version of the old saying, “The Clothes Make The Man.” If you spend your time passionately writing, and working to become an author, then you, my friend, are a writer. It’s about mentality. Some folks may think they’ll sound douchey, but if you don’t overdo it, or try to act like you’re the second coming of Hunter S. Thompson, (you aren’t,) you’ll actually be fine.
When I stopped perceiving my writing as ‘just a hobby’ and realized that I genuinely wanted to put published stories out in the world for a living, that’s when I started referring to myself as a writer. Honestly, that one simple change really started to motivate me. Before I knew it, my work ethic went up—granted, not a high bar to hurdle—and I had amassed a pool of test readers for criticism and feedback. I wasn’t published professionally, and I have yet to make a dime off my work, but as far as I’m concerned, I am a fucking writer, and until I become a space cowboy, that’s what I introduce myself as. I even joke, “I mean, I haven’t gotten anything published yet, but who has, right?” while hiding my secret pain.
This doesn’t have to work just for writers, obviously— it works for all sorts of creative fields. You could tell people you’re an artist, or a musician, or whatever it is you are actively working to become. Do you rap, and work to expand your rap career? Then you’re a rapper, my friend! Because that’s the work. That’s your job.
Author’s Note: This does not apply to doctors, lawyers, or other fields involving legal certification to do their jobs. Put the bone saw down, Steve. You aren’t there yet. Hit those anatomy textbooks like a good med student.
Try it— the next time someone asks, “What do you do?” Tell them, “I’m a writer.” Make some jokes about how you’re a starving artist or something, but don’t feel like you need to justify it. You write. That’s the justification. You don’t have to label yourself a waitress if you don’t want to, and YES I’m talking about YOU, Karen at Denny’s, because I’ll shout from the top of any table I fucking want to! THIS ISN’T NAZI GERMANY, KAREN!
2.) You are writing a manuscript, not a book. Call a duck ‘a duck.’
This one is a short one, and kind of a personal pet peeve. (It’s not even a hundred percent accurate, really.) When you are writing something to be published, like a novel, the thing you are writing is the manuscript, not the book. The book is the thing manuscripts get made into.
Sure, you can tell people you’re working on a book, or working on a new novel, or whatever; but the thing you are typing out or writing down is the manuscript. I have a few manuscripts I’ve completed; and since they aren’t published yet, they aren’t books. (Arguments can be made about it technically being an e-book, I suppose, but don’t nitpick my peeves.)
3) Take a dive into the Shark Tank, and stay for a while.
When I decided I wanted to make writing my career, I had no idea where to start. There was so much to know, and so much to learn, and I could barely keep all the conflicting advice straight. Ironically, one of the early resources I found when trying to get my head above water, was the Query Shark.
Linkies!
https://queryshark.blogspot.com/
This brilliant blog will show you exactly how a publishing agent will look at a query letter for a manuscript, because it’s written by one, and she will (politely) tear examples to shreds before your very eyes. Go through the entire archive. (Yes, I mean that— go through the entire archive.) It may take you a few days, maybe weeks, but it’s not a slog; it is a must-do bare-minimum.
Reading this blog changed my work for the better, dramatically. If it doesn’t change yours, then you didn’t read the entire archive, and you need to go back now.
…Yes, now.
4.) Get a nice hat. I do not mean “get another baseball cap.”
What does this have to do with writing? Nothing. I just like a good hat; it makes people look sharp. (Fedoras are iffy in this age of neck-bearded ‘nice guy’ rage nerds, but some folks can still pull one off.)
I like a nice bowler hat myself, and used to own one, until an incident on a road trip from Seattle to Las Vegas. I currently own a pork pie (with a fedora top, but not in a sketchy way,) and it is my go-to hat for now. Go to a hat store. Bring a friend with an opinion you trust, and get something you can pull off. Don’t go overboard with some sort of crazy top hat or something; unless, of course, you’re at fancy-dress event and already have the topcoat and tails to go with one.
Take it off when you’re sitting down to eat or order at the bar, though. Don’t be that guy. Come on.
5.) There is no “right” or “wrong” writing program. (…Notepad is iffy, though. Grow up.)
For a long, long time, I couldn’t figure out what sort of amazing writing program I could use for getting my manuscript to look right. Word is perfectly serviceable, and everyone uses it. That’s pretty much the answer everyone goes with. “Writing something? Use Microsoft Word. What are you, a caveman? Jesus.”
Honestly, I can’t say why I don’t use Word. Oh wait— I can. It didn’t come installed on my laptop, and for some reason, I like OpenOffice. (Yes, yes; judge me.)
I’ve tried Scrivener, and I hear good things from other authors who use it; but after my third hour of tutorial left me with a single virtual note card stuck to a virtual tack board with the phrase “Sample: Dirt Pie” written on it for some inexplicable reason, I thought, “Perhaps I’m either too old to learn this, not giving this program enough time to learn it properly, or this program is not for me.”
Ultimately, I hit it with a rock, and backed away like a chimp at the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey.
There’s no wrong answer. JK Rowling wrote notes on napkins, as the myths claim, and George R.R. Martin murders your favorite characters using a DOS program. I’m pretty sure, if your work is good enough, you can write it on a McDonald’s wrapper in barbecue sauce with a french fry, and you’ll be fine.
Author’s Note: That’s what the 3am crackheads do. Don’t do that.
Pick a program and love it. Change to something else if you want. Nobody cares what you write with. I regret planting that ‘barbecue sauce’ seed in your mind, though, because you’re probably going to try it now, you ridiculous nutjob.
6.) You probably didn’t notice that I skipped number 4.
Yeah— scroll back up. Check for yourself. I’ll wait.
7.) Formatting your manuscript is important, and yes; publishers judge you on that shit. That’s why it’s important.
Yeah, I totally didn’t skip number four, but if you checked, know that I am laughing at you right now, and feeling pretty smug. Also, hats are important, you should get one, and formatting your manuscript is even more important. Here’s a link to an article with a perfect description of how your manuscript should be formatted:
https://thewritelife.com/how-to-format-a-book/
After I re-formatted to this standard, my work looks and feels far more professional now. I have a very early manuscript I finished (Easily over fifteen years ago,) and it is still on my hard drive, embarrassing me with it’s rookie writing style, and narrow print, all crammed together on the page like I knew what I was doing. Oh, and I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING. It’s like when you look back at a picture you drew ten years ago and realize, “Wow— I’m a garbage person.” Then you light your house on fire, and lay in bed.
…So, format.
Okay, guys— I think that just about wraps up this overly-long post. I have lots of other things to say, and tips to give out, but I’m holding on to those for future use, should any of you go rogue, and need to be destroyed.
Love me because I’m awesome, and I’ll see you next time!
Seriously, Karen. Don’t be such a dick about your tables.