Three Things from Early October

Tenacity, Tenacity, Tenacity...

Moody early morning photo of the girls on watch

What I’m Writing…

Last week I sent a finished draft of a new novel to my agent (and I say draft because even though I felt the euphoria of finishing I know deep in my heart that there will be many, many more drafts). That was 8 days, 7 hours, and thirty-five minutes ago. Not that I’m counting.

At the fabulous Ink Fish Books in Warren, RI

Although those 8 days, 7 hours, and thirty-five minutes have had lots of distractions, even fun—events with Marianne Leone for her new memoir Five Dog Epiphany, which is part of my Gracie Belle Books imprint for Akashic Press; an end of summer party filled with chefs and pizza and oyster and friends; opening night to see Robert Downey, Jr on Broadway in McNeal; a romantic dinner at the iconic Shun Lee Palace; a cheesesteak from Mama’s Two to bring comfort while I wait…and wait…and wait…

This and that during a week of waiting…

As you can see, I am trying to keep myself busy. I worked on an essay and sent it off (more waiting). I tinkered. I walked. I did errands and tasks. But Friends, there is nothing as nerve wracking as this period in the life of a writer waiting.

What I’m Knitting…

Epic fail. I think.

I mean, what is this?

Here is what the instructions said and what I thought I did:

But why are there two holes side by side, connected by a few threads? Where does, for example, my head go?

Knitters, weigh in please!

I sent out an SOS to my friend Jen, who taught me to knit twenty-two years ago this month. Desperate, heartbroken, grieving for the loss of my wonderful Gracie, someone suggested I learn to knit. “Get out of your head and do something with your hands.” Good advice, except the only class I ever got a low grade in was Home Economics (1970, ninth grade, Mrs. Wiley) because I could not figure out how to make the Simplicity pattern wrap-around skirt. My hands sweat. I poked myself with pins. Everything was lopsided. Or worse. And I swore off making—as we call it now—forever. Or, until October of 2002, when Jen taught me the magic of placing one stitch on a needle at a time.

And so it was to Jen I sent my SOS today as I sat in my car from 11-12:30 so that I didn’t get a ticket (Oh, NYC!).

It’s not about the result, I always say. It’s about the process. The click of needles. The feel of the yarn. But remember this?

Yes, Friends. More tenacity.

What I’m thinking about…

Yes. Tenacity. Again.

As chance would have it, in the past couple of weeks I’ve received letters from former students, all of them terrific writers, looking for guidance. One lamented that three agents had said no to his manuscript and so he was ready to quit. One spent a few months revising and was going to start querying agents. One wondered why she was getting no responses. One asked: “How long do I keep trying?”

The truth is, I cannot answer any of their questions. Only you can decide if you’re willing to keep writing, keep revising, keep trying. But if you are wondering the same things, let me try to help.

It takes time to get it right. The Stolen Child took me five years to write.

It takes revising, and revising, and revising to get a book just right. The first draft of The Knitting Circle was over 700 pages. Thirty-five revisions later, it was an international bestseller.

Catch-22 was rejected twenty-two times. Joseph Heller famously said: “It is really not funny on any intellectual level.” Still Alice was rejected 100 times, according to its author, Lisa Genova, before she self-published and sold copies from her car. (Beatrix Potter got so many rejections she also self-published). According to the Guardian, The Lost Get-Back Boogie, James Lee Burke’s fifth novel, was rejected 111 times over nine years. It was finally published in 1986; that year, according to the author, it was nominated for the Pulitzer prize. Donal Ryan’s Spinning Heart 47 rejections from publishers. But then it was long-listed for the 2013 Man Booker Prize and won the Guardian‘s first novel award that year.

And so, three rejections is just the beginning. BUT…perhaps for you, it is the end. How much time are you willing to spend on this book of yours? How many revisions are you willing to do? How many times can you try again? There is no shame in deciding that three or twenty or fifty rejections are enough. That you are going to self-publish and get your story in the hands of friends and family, neighbors and co-workers.

I heard Dennis Lehane say, in an effort to get writers to take their time, “What’s the rush? No one is waiting for it.” In other words, don’t race to send those fresh revisions off. Instead…you guessed it…wait.

One thing I know for certain: It is not necessarily my most talented students who get published. It is my most tenacious.

And also…

Can you bear to read one more tale of tenacity? Six years ago, I found the perfect coat. Not too bulky. Not too lightweight. Perfect for autumn, for light rain, for summer days in Ireland.

In Dingle, Ireland with Andre Dubus lll and my perfect coat

One day, I took my coat with me on a trip to NYC because rain was predicted. It was warm, so rather than wear it, I carried it. As soon as I got out and entered the train station, I realized I had left my coat in the Uber. I ran out, screaming and waving my arms wildly, but the Uber just kept going, with my perfect coat.

I called the driver immediately. She claimed there was no coat in her car. Surely she knew that she had just found the perfect coat.

Of course I went immediately to the Everlane website. They had the coat, but not in black. I kept checking. Nope. I wrote to them and was told they were never getting it in black again. Did I like khaki perhaps? I did not.

Every now and then, over these years, I’d check the website. No luck. And then, last week, there it was. My coat. In my size. In black.

One more thing…

I’m just bursting with pride that my beloved

Michael Ruhlman

won the IACP award for Best Cocktail Book. Whip up a whiskey sour and toast him.

PS…

Late yesterday I got three jabs: RSV, flu, and covid. So no surprise that today I feel less than my usual self. Should you find yourself in this same situation, or if waiting is getting you down, or you’re sick of revisions or rejections, I highly recommend getting flat on your back on your sofa with a cat purring on your chest. In case you don’t have a cat available, I offer you mine.

Thank you for reading this! I hope all the things you are waiting for come to you soon.