IF ONLY I HAD THE TIME
by Writers of the Future Contest judge and New York Times bestselling author, Kevin J. Anderson.
During the 2005 Winter Olympics, the world watched great athletes from all nations perform
seemingly impossible feats with breathtaking skill. When those well-toned men and women received their
medals, we admired them for their almost superhuman
abilities. Most of us didn’t kid ourselves (as we were sitting on the couch munching potato chips) that we
could be just as talented, just as fast, just as strong . . . if
only we had the time.
For some reason, though, a lot of people seem to
believe such an absurd thing about writing books. I’ve
had many people tell me that writing is easy, that they
themselves could do it, if they merely sat down and put
their minds to it. Here’s how the conversation often
goes:
A person at one of my book signings or appearances: “I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I could write a
novel.”
Me: “Oh? Why haven’t you?”
Person: “I just don’t have the time.”
Me: “Hmm. You know, nobody gives me the time, either. I have to make the time, set priorities, discipline myself to get my writing done each day, no matter how tired I am. I worked a full-time regular job while I wrote my first novels, scraping out an hour here or there in evenings and weekends. That’s how I’ve become a
successful author.”
Person: “Yeah, right. I think you’re just lucky.”
Olympic athletes usually start their training as kids,
practicing, competing, clawing their way up year after
year. Some of them get up before dawn just to grab
enough hours of training during the day. They strive to improve their performance, stretch their abilities,
beat their personal bests and then beat them again. They practice until they’re ready to drop, and then
they keep at it. Many are injured along the way. The
vast majority of those who try out don’t make the
Olympic team. They may win semifinals and regional
competitions, but only the best of the best become
part of the team—and only the very best of those will win a medal.
I’ve received dozens of letters posing the same
question: “I want to write a bestselling novel. But it seems to take so long, and it’s an awful lot of work.
Can you tell me what the shortcut is?”
Without doing a full count and comparison, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are about as many New York Times bestselling authors as there are members of the various US Olympic teams. The competition among bestsellers is just as tough, and your chances of success are just as slim.
But does anyone really say, “I want to win a gold medal in figure skating, but I don’t have the time for all that practice and training. In fact, I don’t even own ice skates. Can you tell me the shortcut to winning a medal?”
To make a short answer long, I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was five years old. I sat in my dad’s study and plunked out my first “novel” on a manual typewriter when I was eight. By the age of ten, I had saved up enough money to buy either a bicycle (like a normal kid), or my own typewriter. I chose the typewriter. I got my first rejection slip by the time I was thirteen,
had my first story published when I was sixteen (after
I had gathered eighty rejection slips), and sold my first
novel by the time I was twenty-five.
I have a trophy in my office proclaiming me to be “The Writer with No Future” because I could produce
more rejection slips by weight than any other writer
at an entire conference. My files now bulge with more
than eight hundred rejections. On the other hand, I
also have ninety-four books published, forty-one of
which have been national or international bestsellers,
and my work has been translated into thirty languages.
I’ve written almost ten million words, so far.
No, I don’t know any shortcuts. Sorry.
Where does this notion come from that just anybody can write a novel, if they could only get around to it? I never hear the claim that just anybody can be an
Olympic athlete, or a brain surgeon, or a space shuttle
commander. Even if we did “have the time” to raise
capital and invest wisely, few people could manage to be as rich as Donald Trump.
But somehow, publishing a novel apparently involves nothing more than unskilled labor, stringing a lot of sentences together until you fill enough pages with
words.
Every author has heard this one from a friend or a fan: “I’ve got a great idea for a novel. I’ll tell you the idea, you write the book and then we can split the money.” (As if the idea is the hard part!) In all honesty, I’m not short on ideas. In fact, I’ll never have time to flesh out all the novel possibilities that occur to me on a regular basis, so this proposition never ceases to amaze me.
I’ve often wished I had the nerve to reply: “I’m
pretty busy right now, but why don’t we try it the other
way around first? I’ll tell you an idea off the top of my
head, then you can do all the research, the plotting
and character development. You can write a hundred
thousand words or so, then edit the manuscript (I usually do at least five to ten drafts), sell it to the publisher, work
with the editor for any revisions, deal with the copy
editor, proofread the galleys, then do book signings and promotion after it’s published. After all that, we’ll
split the money. Sound fair?”
Now, I’m not comparing myself to an Olympic gold
medalist. I can’t even stay up on ice skates. I don’t
change the oil in my car (though I could probably figure
it out, “if only I had the time”) or balance the monthly
checkbook. But I do have a pretty good idea how to
write a novel. I’ve been practicing and training for most of my life.
Maybe as a public service I’ll write a self-help book of shortcuts for these would-be authors who live all around us. I could call it, How to Become a Bestselling
Author in Twenty Years or Less. Now, if only I could find
the time to write it. . . . |
Aleta Jackson, co-founder of XCOR Aerospace, spoke at the 2008 L. Ron Hubbard Achievement Awards and had the following to say to the guests as well as the winners being honored that night: 