I loved reading your notes Elizabeth and I don't know why but the image of the soil on your allotment captured my attention, I guess at some point the significance of that may come to the surface.
I have found handing my manuscripts over to be most challenging, they almost have to be wrenched from my arms as I clutch them tightly to my heart. It is never not traumatic. Have I done right, will the publisher like it, I have left any spelling mistakes, the list goes on.
It is when the editors get hold of the pages that times really become interesting for me. Thousands of hours I have laboured over my love and now some stranger is going to come and begin telling me, me where I have gone wrong, what needs to be cut, what doesn't make sense and on and on and on. I have learned, am learning that this is where I grow. Deciding which hills to die on, accepting that a professional editor may know one or two things, realising and fessing up to admitting that particular section, paragraph, sentence makes absolutely no sense. And then the other side of this same coin, sticking up for my baby, protecting it from those that seek to blow it off course, reduce its power, lack understanding.
There always came a time when I would be wishing for the print run to begin, then nothing more could be taken away or changed. Of course, there was little to change, it was mostly in my head, and with one exception the book that sits on the booksellers shelf is much the better for the help from everyone else.
I guess that is no different for any other writer, Proust, Poe, Hemingway, Joyce, Kerouac, even Salinger. It's the cost of entry, giving ourselves and our children into the trust of complete strangers. We survive and think next time it will be easier.
Ah thank you, Paul 🙏 it’s so helpful to read about your experiences. “I have learned, am learning that this is where I grow” — I think I am learning this too!
It’s such a strange experience, of wanting to trust and connect and share my work with others, but also wanting to cling on and never finish and keep my work safely from the eyes and minds of others. Thanks for your insights. And for sharing your story and words so generously and trustingly with others 💚
♥️ Loved reading your earnest and tender words today. The mulling over of words and how they resonate, feel, conjure. Mmmmm - thanks for sharing - what a delight and honor to bear witness to your experience. xo
Ahh thank you Beth Anne 🙏 how kind. I’m so glad it resonated — and thank you for witnessing 💚 (And I am often overly earnest! — I sometimes wish I could write more cool and witty…but I’ve made peace with that just not being my style 🤷🏻♀️)
You’re quite right about letting go, Elizabeth. I have only belatedly realised the need to let go of my relentless intent to find an agent for my book. You have already succeeded in that submission so that should give you some confidence in the next phase, that it’s worthy of the success. And it’s exciting too: savour the anticipation. I found I needed to clean out some old rubbish in my head from the past and spring clean my house too. You can find more on that on this link if I can get it to work
Thank you, Charles. I find the same, that the inner and outer are so often in alignment. Spring cleaning is a good chance to dig into clutter, wherever it is -- I hope you continue to find clarity through the process. And in your post -- I was interested to see you've spent time on Iona. What a special place! -- we stayed a few years ago.
Oh, good luck, Elizabeth! Going on submission is a strange space. Wishing for you a wonderful editor and publisher, who you can love working with, and will nurture your words into magnificent maturity to bless us all xxx
Ahh Hannah, thank you 😊 yes, it feels like a strange space. Please send any advice my way! 🙏
And how kind about my words. It’s such an odd jumble of feelings; to want to write yet to feel so uncomfortable at the thought of people actually reading what I write 🤪 I suppose it’s natural, the fear of exposure. Still, thank you for your encouragement 💚
I loved reading your notes Elizabeth and I don't know why but the image of the soil on your allotment captured my attention, I guess at some point the significance of that may come to the surface.
I have found handing my manuscripts over to be most challenging, they almost have to be wrenched from my arms as I clutch them tightly to my heart. It is never not traumatic. Have I done right, will the publisher like it, I have left any spelling mistakes, the list goes on.
It is when the editors get hold of the pages that times really become interesting for me. Thousands of hours I have laboured over my love and now some stranger is going to come and begin telling me, me where I have gone wrong, what needs to be cut, what doesn't make sense and on and on and on. I have learned, am learning that this is where I grow. Deciding which hills to die on, accepting that a professional editor may know one or two things, realising and fessing up to admitting that particular section, paragraph, sentence makes absolutely no sense. And then the other side of this same coin, sticking up for my baby, protecting it from those that seek to blow it off course, reduce its power, lack understanding.
There always came a time when I would be wishing for the print run to begin, then nothing more could be taken away or changed. Of course, there was little to change, it was mostly in my head, and with one exception the book that sits on the booksellers shelf is much the better for the help from everyone else.
I guess that is no different for any other writer, Proust, Poe, Hemingway, Joyce, Kerouac, even Salinger. It's the cost of entry, giving ourselves and our children into the trust of complete strangers. We survive and think next time it will be easier.
Take care and good luck. Paul
Ah thank you, Paul 🙏 it’s so helpful to read about your experiences. “I have learned, am learning that this is where I grow” — I think I am learning this too!
It’s such a strange experience, of wanting to trust and connect and share my work with others, but also wanting to cling on and never finish and keep my work safely from the eyes and minds of others. Thanks for your insights. And for sharing your story and words so generously and trustingly with others 💚
♥️ Loved reading your earnest and tender words today. The mulling over of words and how they resonate, feel, conjure. Mmmmm - thanks for sharing - what a delight and honor to bear witness to your experience. xo
Ahh thank you Beth Anne 🙏 how kind. I’m so glad it resonated — and thank you for witnessing 💚 (And I am often overly earnest! — I sometimes wish I could write more cool and witty…but I’ve made peace with that just not being my style 🤷🏻♀️)
You’re quite right about letting go, Elizabeth. I have only belatedly realised the need to let go of my relentless intent to find an agent for my book. You have already succeeded in that submission so that should give you some confidence in the next phase, that it’s worthy of the success. And it’s exciting too: savour the anticipation. I found I needed to clean out some old rubbish in my head from the past and spring clean my house too. You can find more on that on this link if I can get it to work
https://open.substack.com/pub/charlescallis/p/mirrors-as-mirrors?
Thank you, Charles. I find the same, that the inner and outer are so often in alignment. Spring cleaning is a good chance to dig into clutter, wherever it is -- I hope you continue to find clarity through the process. And in your post -- I was interested to see you've spent time on Iona. What a special place! -- we stayed a few years ago.
Oh, good luck, Elizabeth! Going on submission is a strange space. Wishing for you a wonderful editor and publisher, who you can love working with, and will nurture your words into magnificent maturity to bless us all xxx
Ahh Hannah, thank you 😊 yes, it feels like a strange space. Please send any advice my way! 🙏
And how kind about my words. It’s such an odd jumble of feelings; to want to write yet to feel so uncomfortable at the thought of people actually reading what I write 🤪 I suppose it’s natural, the fear of exposure. Still, thank you for your encouragement 💚