Cutman
Let me tell you about yesterday.
I woke at 5:00. Got my "Commuter Duo" off to school (Oldest Son and Youngest Daughter each commute to magnet schools--his commute is an hour and fifteen minutes each way). I worked 14 hours. Solid. Had a conference call at 4:00. Did four loads of laundry. Made beds. Vaccumed upstairs. Emptied dishwasher, and loaded it again. Ate a single banana (something that doesn't seem to aggravate Crohn's). Picked up Oldest Son and Oldest Son's Pal from commuter bus. I made Demon Baby breakfast and we played checkers. I wrote three pages of my new work in progress, tentatively titled Memory Falls. Blah, blah, blah. And at 2:30, like clockwork, the fevers started.
But here's the thing. Yesterday, I had a GREAT day. Oh, not glamorous, surely. But nothing about the pile of laundry, the pile of work, the long hours, or any of it got me down. Not even the afternoon fever. None of it.
The day before, when the afternoon fever started, I burst into tears. Big ol' sobbing tears. I didn't think I could get through another day, let alone feel GOOD about the day.
Today? Still have three loads of laundry to catch up. I need to work another very, very long day. Rewrite on a ghosting project. Need to really do something fun with Demon Baby. Need to take new kitten to the vet. Blah, blah, blah. And I feel happy.
So here's what they don't tell you about being a writer.
Attitude is a HUGE portion of the game.
Huge.
Because rejections abound, small disappointments happen [sold through on Magickeepers (!!), they owe me money . . . BUT . . . that little thing called "reserves against returns" means . . . nada money until spring--if that--but overall that's good, not bad], big disappointments happen . . . criticism. Stuck places in the writing. The occasional jerk crossing your path. Characters who won't cooperate. The project you love fails to sell. The project you love and nearly finished your proposal on . . . well, someone JUST sold a proposal exactly like in Publisher's Marketplace just yesterday in a "major deal." (Happened to me two years ago.) Whatever it is, folks . . . Self-doubt. I-Suck-Itis. Wondering . . . why do I do this? Am I meant to do this?
And in the end, if you want to make it? You better get a good cutman. You know the cutman in boxing. He's the one stitching up the fighter in between rounds. Either you need to stitch yourself up, or be lucky enough to have someone with some tape, petroleum jelly and Avitene.
Because in the end, whether you go on to the next round or not . . . it's you who have got to stagger up.
Attitude and a cutman. It'll get you through almost anything.
Thoughts?
29 comments:
You have a lot of cutmen, a lot f people cheering for you.
I think I have both (note the tinge of doubt) - my attitude is that you can have a little bad in a good day or a little good in bad day - but there's usually something good to focus on. My cutman is my CP. She's highly constructively critical, she pushes me to explore new things in my writing, she doesn't write what I write so she has a different perspective, yet she's "awarded" and published -- and when I say 'what the hell am I doing' she is the one that patches me up and sends me back to the ring. She is also the one person (whose not related to me) who is convinced that I'll get an agent and sell the book. We all need someone like that in our corner.
Joe:
Thanks!
E
Amy:
I totally agree. I hit a patch this summer where it was relentless bad until I really thought I was going to come apart at the seams. Overall (knock wood) things are peaceful and happy in my life right now. Allows me to see sunshine and light in even sick days.
I have a few cutmen. Essential!
E
I need a cutman, or at least someone to bitch slap some sense into me. I'm in the duldroms, but with no real reason.
Personally, I blame the weather. . .
magolla:
Consider yourself bitch-slapped. LOL!
:-)
E
Congratulations on selling through!
I could use someone to follow me around with petroleum jelly and tape. I think that would solve a lot of my problems.
I've noticed a huge change in my attitude in the past month, ever since we got that certain news. It wasn't writing related, but I finally feel like my life is back in MY hands, and that does wonders for your self-esteem.
Nice, yeah, I could probably use a cutman, too, although I think you and a few other of my blog readers--Spy, Stephen, Jude, Eric, Jon--often feel like my cut men, who after I whine and bitch and take the punches, say, "Okay, here's some water, take a deep breath, go back out there and knock 'em down."
I'm grateful. Really.
And yeah, as much as I crab and whine on the blog, I think people might be surprised that in real life I'm pretty calm and level and generally keep a positive outlook about the writing. Hell, if you can't, your life is going to be misery and you'd be much happier at a day job while writing in the evenings and weekends. Been there, done that, didn't work for me so much.
Melanie:
I agree. When too much seems out of your control, it can feel like a tide you can't swim against. Though I am a believer that very much more is out of our control, metaphysically speaking, I suppose.
Aww, Erica, Joe's right! You know, when you don't post for a day, I worry? I check Facebook to make sure you're still up and at 'em. And just last night, on the way home from a LOVELY day at the bookstore, I got another asthma attack. And I'd done four inhalers, and I just started crying because I really wanted to give up. I mean, the struggle is exhausting, and I LOVE the bookstore; it's my favorite place in the whole world. You know how much I love the bookstore.
But I think of all you've gone through, YOU, and I tell myself I'm a wimp and to pull it together, LOL.
Mark:
My cutmen are the blog as well. My critique group. My gal pals, who may not be writers but will listen to me just the same. Oldest Daughter, too.
E
Natasha:
You know, it's all relative. I kind of block out the worst of the years. This is a blip. I feel better today than yesterday, and better yesterday than the day before. But around 2:30, I have no doubt I will feel like I need a cornerman again. :-)
E
I'm lucky to have so many great writers in my life. I whine a bit and someone always rushes in with a Kleenex and a whip.
I watched my old Broncs get bowled over by the Steelers last night. They seemed to fall apart, not just in line, but in their togetherness. Not a lot of smiles and rallying calls on the sidelines. More shouting and muttering. No happy glances up at the crowd, look they all came here to watch us play. Just sinking deeper.
It made me think a lot about attitude last night. My husband has lost his job. I can't seem to meet my sales goals this year to save my life.
And yet, I went to bed last night and read a good book. My kids acted sweet and looked absolutely adorable riding their scooters to school this morning (the older glancing back to make sure the younger is keeping up.) I have friends. My mommy is coming to visit on Friday...
It goes on. So yeah, focus on the fun stuff.
I hate vacuuming. Don't mind bathrooms. Wish we lived a little closer so we could trade, Erica! :)
I'm in your corner too. Maybe not a cutman for you, but I care a lot.
I have different "cutmen" for different aspects of my life. My husband and children and cousin and some wonderful neighbors who support me through the day to day grind, who are there when life seems to cave in on me.
For writing, which seems to require it's own kind of support people, I've got my crit. group (who are not above an occasional B-slap,LOL), and the gal I call my writing mentor. She knows the ropes, has played the publishing game and won many times over. She's probably my cutman in the truest sense of the word.
This post got me thinking, it's probably time to send a note to my cutmen and tell them how much I appreciate their support.
I've got a wife who swings a mean club and is handy with a surgical stapler (now available at WalMart).
I get suckitis all the time. Just when I think things might actually turn around, I realize that everyone know I am a fraud and all of my writing sucks.
Fortunately, Carey comes along and creates a need for the stapler just under one of my eyes.
I sometimes think she want me to succeed at writing more than I do.
My CP is my cutman when I'm discouraged. Even without her, I'd continue on. But because I admire her writing so much, when she tells me I'm good, I believe her. It makes a difference.
My other CP inspires me by example. She's fighting her 7th or so round of cancer (the damn cells keep clustering). Yet she works full time, she gets up at 4 or 5am to write, she has a 10 year old, she has an active social life... She's my hero.
Erica, you're a hero, too.
Starbucks:
I am so sorry about your husband's job loss.
But I know what you mean about those "moments" when you look around and think, "Man . . . I've got it good!"
Hi Beth:
Aw . . . thanks! And what a great idea to send a note of appreciation to the cutmen in your life.
E
Allen:
Aww . . . how cool that you have that.
E
Edie:
Wow . . . you know people like your friend who keep on fighting? They just rock. I admire the fighters in life.
E
The hard thing about being a cutman is not being able to take any lumps for the people you're stitching up.
And I agree, attitude is everything--but I think that the tears need to make way for the smile some days.
In the wise words of Toot, from Toot and Puddle's You Are My Sunshine (Holly Hobbie) "Sometimes you need a big whopping thunderstorm to clear the air."
I'm in your corner come 2:30.
Erica, you have a great attitude. Very inspiring. I love reading your blog. It is so sincere and thought provoking.
A cutman? I love that image!
My wife, Dana, is my main cutman and I hope I am hers, too.
When I'm in the downs, I try to write about the downs. When I'm in the sillies, I try to write about the sillies. But when I'm in the I-Suck-At-This, there doesn't seem to be a cutman up to the task. It's just wait it out.
Heather;
Yeah, sometimes you have to come through a really crappy day to have a sense of perspective.
E
Paul:
My dad raised me on watching the fights. I know all the lingo, LOL!
E
Alex:
Yeah... I hear you on that.
E
Ah come on, Adrian, it's true. I was nobody. But that don't matter either, you know? 'Cause I was thinkin', it really don't matter if I lose this fight. It really don't matter if this guy opens my head, either. 'Cause all I wanna do is go the distance. Nobody's ever gone the distance with Creed, and if I can go that distance, you see, and that bell rings and I'm still standin', I'm gonna know for the first time in my life, see, that I weren't just another bum from the neighborhood.
Maybe that's what we all want to know, that we're not just another bum from the neighborhood. And it always helps when we can serve as cutmen for each other. :)
Around 2:30 a giant bunch of bananas will land at your doorstop. Well, metaphorically. Anyone know how to send those little .gif's?
I hope you're doing better. I hope payment for Magickeeper's comes as an unexpected check just before Christmas.
Fortunately for writing, I've built up a pretty tough skin and the rejections no longer get me down. I think I've had too many of them, lol.
This may change, and probably will, once I get past the agent hunting stage, but for now, rejections? I eat them for breakfast. :)
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