an author. The various writer's guilds will ignore all that work, and consider you to still be a non-author, and many of the websites and festivals that promote books will be the same. Additionally, whatever you self-publish will also be considered “published” if you ever try to take your manuscript to a traditional publisher. It sucks, but that's how it is.
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The second path is the harder one, takes a lot more time, and is particularly soul-crushing: Traditional Publishing. The basic rundown is: get an agent, get that agent to find a publisher, and have your book published. It sounds simple, but that doesn't seem to be the case for anyone but people who already have fame and/or fortune. The rest of us have to experience it the super-painful way, and make the climb in the dead of winter, uphill, both ways.

The first hurdle (and the biggest as far as I'm concerned, though that's probably because at the time of this posting I still haven't managed to make the jump) is to find an agent. While there are lots of agents out there, they get tonnes of queries all the time, and they're looking for any excuse not to like what your presenting them. It's kinda as if you went to a bar looking for some action, except that everyone there is extremely picky and you happen to be the least conventionally attractive one within five square miles, with the only caveat that you know that people exist who have fetishes, and one of those fetishes might just be for someone exactly like you. Point is, expect to be rejected... a lot.

Having written two previous novels, I've gone through this process several times, collected a nice figurative stack of rejections, and learned a number of things that might be helpful to you first-time submitters, and maybe a little something for those of you in the same boat as me. To start, you'll want a kickass query letter along with some kind of short bio, and different versions of a synopsis (here's a great article that'll help with the synopsis part. http://theeditorsblog.net/2012/07/15/clear-the-dread-from-the-dreaded-synopsis/ ).

Next, do a little research. Find a good twenty or thirty first round agents that are looking for the kind of book you've written (Hint: Young Adult and Middle Grade are huge right now. Regardless, here are two websites to get you started. https://www.agentquery.com/default.aspx   
http://mswishlist.com/profiles/agent/fantasy ).

The one thing that has helped keep me sane and optimistic is my attempt to stay organized. I made a file that lists all of the agents that looked promising, starting with the agency, then agent, the status (SENT or REJECTED), the date I sent it, and how many weeks I should expect before getting a response. The final note I put at the end was a simple “yes” or “no,” indicating if they were intending to respond to my query. (Apparently it's become common for agents to simply say, “I'm too busy to sent you a simple form letter as a rejection, and give you closure out of common decency.” About half subscribe to this philosophy, which I think sucks.) Once you get a rejection (or they haven't responded within a standard timeframe, which almost everyone agrees caps out at about 10 weeks) write them off as “REJECTED,” find another agent, and send out another query. Rinse and Repeat.

An agent is important to this process (I've read a number of blogs detailing the legal advise and expertise in negotiating having an agent will provide you), though you can circumnavigate them in certain circumstances. So, lets say you've gone through every agent you can find, what then? Try to find an editor.

This one is harder. Most of them say they don't accept unsolicited manuscripts, but there are a few that are looking. The other place you can meet both agents and editors are writer's conventions. These cost money, but it's one of the few places you can meet people face to face. And this is where the elevator pitch comes in. Practice it. Memorize it. LIVE IT. Or at least be able to recite it when you get the opportunity.

​And if you've beaten the bushes, buried yourself in rejections, flogged yourself to an inch of your ego's life and still haven't gotten a bite, then your still faced with two options. One: try self publishing; or two: set the manuscript aside, resign yourself to the idea that it just isn't the time for this one, and start the next masterpiece. Maybe that one with be The One.  

There's this myth out there of the lonely, solitary writer, sitting in a dark dank hole of a room surrounded by cigarette​ butts and empty bottles of booze, never to see the light of day until they emerge with a honed, polished and genius manuscript. I'm sure it's not wholly a myth. I'm sure there are people who can do that (and I have been known to have an empty bottle sitting next to me once in a while), but I am certainly NOT one of those writers. I don't know about you, but I write stuff so other people can read it, and very seldom does prose pour from my fingertips without either some serious forethought or some painful revision. I recently heard the term "pantser or plotter," meaning do you write by the seat of your pants or do you plot everything out. I'm not going to get into that right now, but either way, a Writing Community can help.

As I'd said before, I've been very lucky with writing groups, and I learned a great appreciation for them over the years which is what I wanted to talk about this week. (I already gave all the ground-work stuff for my Digital Writing Group in part one, so we'll get back to the nitty-gritty of it in a later post.)

My first writing group was a summer project my wife threw together around the time I'd decided I would start on my second novel. As she is an academic, she and her colleagues are expected to write, and, if you see where this is going, the group wound up consisting of me with my fanciful sci-fi piece, a handful of seasoned scholars with immaculate research articles, and one other author who'd been writing for decades. I'd never learned about commenting, or accepting and using criticism in high school, and since I never went to college, I didn't get a chance to learn it there either. This whole thing was exceptionally intimidating. My only saving grace was that my wife had gently coached me on my first novel, and so I'd already begun to understand how not to be defensive about constructive feedback, and an inkling of how to critically read other's work.

The experience was, as you would expect, educational, and it gave me my first insight into what a writing community can do for you. What I didn't really embrace then, that I spout whenever I can now, is that writing is a skill. So is reading, and so is giving feedback. Better yet, learning how to read critically helps make your own writing better, though, of course, the most important part about making your writing better is to keep writing.

My second writing group was a more formal affair. The rather successful author Richard Bausch hosts a yearly by-invitation-only writing group at Chapman University. You have to apply, and he only accepts a handful of authors each spring. I was honored by being accepted, along with eleven others. The format was, what I could only assume, a more standard model than the first group which had wrapped up with only five of us at the end. Richard's group had... well, Richard. He was a moderator that set the rules, guided the sessions, and interjected when he felt like (and boy did he. He liked to talk and tell stories, and really, who were we to say no? My favorite story of his was about revision, or the lack thereof. One of his manuscripts--he didn't specify which--wasn't sitting right with him, but writing it had taught him what he wanted to know about his characters. So, the moment he finished his first draft, he set it aside, and wrote the whole damned thing again from scratch. Which only emphasizes another point I often hear from my wife: writing is thinking.)

My third writing community wasn't really a group. It was a website full of authors called Jukepop, and doesn't exist anymore. Once the powers-that-be deemed you knew how to put a sentence together, they let you provide as much content to their site that you wanted for all the world to see. Anyone with a browser could read your work, and there wasn't really any monetary compensation, though anyone who belonged to the site could comment on your work. In that regard, it was a massive writing group. (It was also considered highly unprofessional by a professional writer I know. "You don't let the public see your work until it's ready for the public to see your work. First impressions are important." After consideration, I agreed and left.) That foray did help me sharpen my commenting skills, but mostly taught me the importance of every member having complete control over their own work. See, when I tried to leave, the staff of Jukepop wouldn't answer my emails. They were happy to have my content, but decided the best way not to lose authors was to ignore an author's request to close their account. I eventually had to go in and delete every chapter individually, and re-title everything "Null." Which, now that I think about would be a cool title for a sci-fi story. (I'm sure it already is.)

The most positive part of that experience was that there WAS a sense of community. There were people who supported what you were doing, and encouraged you to keep going, and, best of all, there were people who read what you were writing. Artists create art for the sake of art. Writers write, dancers dance, painters paint, and one of the greatest satisfactions is when you get to share that with others and it's appreciated. It sure would be nice to get paid for it though. 

That was pretty much my foundation for creating my own writing group. Well, and having a kickass wife who drills praxis, pedagogy, and theory into my head. That helps too.

Next time: Evolution of Commenting

If you're reading this, there's a chance you're looking for a writing group. That's great! Being a part of a writing community is a fantastic way to hone your skills as a writer. It can also cause all kinds of frustrations. I've been lucky, and I mean really lucky, to have been in a handful of really great writing groups. From what I've read online, and of the anecdotal horror stories of other writers, I know this isn't the rule. In fact, the rule seems to be: find a local writing group, meet odd people with poor social skills, seldom get your stuff read, and navigate a handful of bossy people who think they know everything. 

Well, after my good experiences and over the last few years, I've created and been a part of an alternative that doesn't completely negate those negatives, but lessens the impact of them, and still gets your stuff in front of eyes: the Digital Writing Group (or as I like to put it, the DWG (pronounced, of course, "dog")). The down side (if that's how you want to think of it): you create this group on your own, and this blog series is intended to be a kind of "How To."

Now, before you roll your eyes (at the idea of a digital writing group and/or creating it on your own and/or my punny title) let me give you the basics. The premise is: I personally know people who have always wanted to write a book, and they in turn know people I don't that also have always wanted to write a book. Through the use of Google Drive and email, I set up a small network of writers across three states consisting of friends, and friends of friends, to post work, comment on work, and get their work commented on in return. We are now nine, and nearing the limit of the functional size for a group like this.

I know, there are online writing groups out there, and I'm sure they're a good fit for some, but for me, I didn't feel comfortable with the anonymity of them. And really, it's scary putting your work out in public for all kinds of reasons. If that kind of community does sound like something you're interested in, cool. Here's a link to get you STARTED, or just search for "online writers groups" and jump to it. If you're like me, and want to be a little more "personal" in your approach to sharing, know that, like writing itself, my version of the DWG doesn't come easy, takes patience, and takes a bit of legwork. Though now that it's founded, it is pretty rewarding.

If you've heard enough, and are all like, "Damn, I wanna get me some of that sweet, sweet small-community-sharing goodness." I won't make you wait for the opportunity to create your own. I wrote a constitution of sorts containing the goals, rules, and guidelines the group is based on called, appropriately enough, DWG: GOALS, RULES, & GUIDELINES. At the end of that page, I've also posted a sample DWG: Bulletin Board (a group document needed to keep track of things) to illustrate what that looks like.

For those of you who are wondering, "What the hell does this guy know?" I'll give you a little rundown of my own limited experience.

I've been writing with the intent to get novels published off and on for about 15 years now. During that time, I've completed three novels, a novella, numerous short stories, and have collected a solid stack of rejection letters. Also during that time, I have been a part of two wonderful writing groups (not including the DWG), and an online writing community that no longer exists (and was also told some time ago by a professional writer that it had been very unprofessional to be a part of). My wife is a professor of composition and rhetoric, and also the director of a college writing center. Like any good husband, I listen to my wife, and because of that (and from the groups I've been in) I've picked up a whole lot about what it means to give constructive feedback. And through the moderating and creation of my own writing group, I've figured out a good amount of what does and doesn't work in the writing group format I've chosen.

Over the next few weeks, (hopefully a new post every Thursday or Friday) I'm going to share what I've learned.