WRITING Dancing On My Own

 


It's hardly ever discussed, that strange limbo state many writers find themselves in. Having signed with an agent a few years ago, but with no publishing deal on the horizon, what next for Jo Thomas


I’m a member of an exclusive writers’ club. It’s undoubtedly a privileged gang to be a part of, but equally it’s a strange kind of limbo that most people wouldn’t eagerly sign up for.

 

Of all the writerly topics you can spend your days happily procrastinating reading about, this isn’t something I’ve ever really seen mentioned. A few weeks back, I put a message on a popular writing Facebook group – with nearly 700 members – asking if anyone was in the same situation as me, and only one person replied to say yes.

 

So what is this mysterious situation I find myself in?

 

I’ve got a foot on the ladder, but only on the first rung. For over five years, I’ve been hanging around in the lobby, but I’ve still not been let into the party. In other words, I’m an agented but unpublished writer.

 

When us writers imagine the next chapter of the story after the euphoria of getting an agent, it usually involves a swift scene segue to more popping of corks, celebrating the even higher high of securing a book deal. But that’s not what happened in my case and anecdotally I know it’s not the case for quite a lot of others. Not that securing an agent wasn’t every bit as exhilarating as I’d always hoped it would be – getting the call from my agent saying she wanted to represent me still ranks as one of the happiest moments of my life. I’m welling up just thinking about it now. It’s just that the bit that comes after that in my writing journey isn’t quite as sparkly and joyful.

 

When writers imagine the next chapter of the story after the euphoria of getting an agent, it usually involves a swift scene segue to more popping of corks, celebrating...a book deal


I often wonder why you don’t hear about it more. Why do I feel like such a downer for bringing it up with fellow writers? I suppose it’s because people don’t want to think about the dream not quite going according to plan. It’s not the version of the journey to publication that sells writing guides or workshops or Masters courses or mentoring schemes. Everyone wants the dream to happen right away. We writers want to be discovered, snapped up, lauded and celebrated. Not rejected again just when we thought we’d made it. To be left sitting in the waiting room, no matter how comfy the seat might be, is not many people’s idea of a good time.

 

To be honest, my situation has probably been more drawn out than it might otherwise have been due to the small matter of having a baby and then a little old global pandemic. But the not-getting-published part of my journey happened before either of those things. Once I got my agent, it took just shy of a year to do two sets of rewrites and prepare the book to go out on submission. Then it took coming up to nine months for all the publishers to find time to read it and gradually, gradually let us know that it was… with regret… this time… a pass. 


From talking to my writer friends, these kind of timescales are normal. Maybe if I hadn’t had a job to do in order to pay the bills I could have turned my side of the rewrites around quicker. But as we’re told time and time again, yet can’t fully appreciate until we’re in the middle of it, everything to do with publishing is SSSSSLLLLLOOOOOWWWW. Of course, some writers are lucky enough to have publishers snapping up their book straight away, or even to have several publishers interested. But I don’t think that’s the norm.

 

As we’re told time and time again, yet can’t fully appreciate until we’re in the middle of it, everything to do with publishing is SSSSSLLLLLOOOOOWWWW


I should also explain that I couldn’t have asked for more from my agent. She is very highly regarded and extremely lovely. She’s always made it clear that she took me on, not my book. And she’s been so supportive as I’ve completely lost my writing mojo more than once – which is where the baby and pandemic come in. Not together, but spaced apart enough for me to just be recovering from one sufficiently to try to find space for writing before being pummelled by the other.

 

The only way out of my situation – the only way out of any sticky writing situation if we’re honest – is to write. With hindsight, this is what I should’ve done more of. When my book was out on submission, when I’d heard I wouldn’t be a published author yet, when I had even the slightest whiff of energy for something other than getting through the day. Now I realise, the more you write just for the hell of it, the quicker it is to get back in the saddle next time. To learn to love writing for its own worth, not because of what might come of it, that’s the real work of becoming a writer.


(Picture credit: KeepCalmAndPosters.com)


I can’t honestly say that I’ve ever had a writing routine, a sure-fire way of getting from idea, to draft to edited manuscript. Each time I’ve begun a new idea, it’s like I’m learning everything for the first time, and I’ve been at this game for well over 10 years. I think the sooner you can find a way to get into your own groove of writing, the better it will be as you go along. You can imagine that some article you read or a course you go on is going to catapult you past the hard graft to stardom. But ultimately, you’ve got to put the work in, in whatever way makes sense to you.

 

Just recently, I’ve discovered flash fiction as a good way to work out my writing muscles without pressure, without judgement, without expectations. Over the last decade I’ve worked out I’m a procrastinator perfectionist extraordinaire with a huge fear of failure, conditioned in all sorts of ways to value praise and approval from others above my own internal motivation (writing has a way of helping you dig down into your psyche whether you like it or not!). So it’s not surprising that there have been long periods of infuriating paralysis when I’ve not been able to work on the very story my heart wants to tell more than anything.

 

To learn to love writing for its own worth, not because of what might come of it, that’s the real work of becoming a writer


So, what am I here to tell you? In truth, what am I here to tell myself?

 

I suppose it’s that writing stories is its own party. Just in the simple act of doing it, of getting your words out, you’ve already got a seat at the top table. There may be practical hoops to jump through to get your book published, but why not let loose on your own little dance floor right where you are while you’re getting ready to leap?

 

*Header image: Javier Allegue BarrosUnsplash


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Jo Thomas lives in South Wales. The day job is freelance copywriting and editing but the daydream is always her middle grade fiction. Jo says: 'I'd love to hear from others in a similar situation or any writers with any questions. Come and say hello on Twitter and Instagram: @jotwriting   www.jotwriting.com


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Fran Price is Deputy Editor for Words & Pictures magazine. Contact: deputyeditor@britishscbwi.org


1 comment:

  1. Nicola Brooks-Williamson5 July 2022 at 11:32

    Loved reading Dancing On My Own. Encouraging- which i need at this moment. I did try to follow you on twitter but the account is not currently live. Keep going Jo

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