Lessons for Baby Author Me — Jennifer Latham

Today, I am excited to welcome Jennifer Latham to the blog! She is the author of the YA novels Dreamland Burning and Scarlett Undercover. 

Now sit back and enjoy these words of wisdom from Jennifer Latham to her wee Baby Author Self. She may not have done it right the first time around, but maybe you can learn from her mistakes 😉 Over to you, Jen:

Hey you. Yeah, you—the one who’s been revising that manuscript for over a year, playing footsie with an editor who won’t even end up being the person you eventually work with.[1] Remember that time your last manuscript made it to acquisitions at Scholastic after a year of preliminary revisions over there? And remember how your agent called you after the meeting to tell you they’d passed?

That sucked, huh?

Well, here’s the thing: Scarlett Undercover is going to sell. And that does not suck at all. In fact, it’s pretty freaking amazing. But before you get all caught up in celebrating, I’m going to tell you a few things about how it’s going to be. And since you’re me, I’m not going to sugarcoat any of it because you’ll see right through me.

Ready?

Here goes.

1. You are going to feel like you have to build an amazing website and develop your brand and get fabulous swag and churn out clever Tweets in order to be a real author.

You do not.

In fact, you’ll realize very quickly that when it comes to brand building, you’re just not that into it. Yes, you’ll always feel a pinch of insecurity when you see the amazing stuff other authors do to promote their work. And yes, if you were to go ova-out and pour yourself into marketing with all your heart, you might possibly move the needle on sales a tiny bit. But overall, you will end up deciding that your time is best spent on making books. Because you, my dear, write at the speed of molasses in the pre-global warming Arctic Circle.

2. You will have many different editors. Two for Scarlett Undercover, in fact, and three for Dreamland Burning. Because the editing business is wicked hard and wears a whole lot of people out very quickly. But each of the lovely people you’ll work with will contribute something valuable to your manuscript. Just remember that they are no more infallible than you are, and that, in the end, your name’s the only one that ends up on the cover.

3. Which brings me to the next thing. Reviews.

You will read them and take all but the most over-the-top bonkers ones to heart. And that’s okay, because you are going to grow a thick hide and learn how to cope. And sometimes you’ll go read all the awful reviews you can find for books you LOVE, and you’ll feel better because there are a lot of readers out there and you can’t please everyone.

4. You are going to hate school visits at first because you’ll know you’re terrible at them. Eventually, though, you’re going to figure out that historical fiction makes your light blink. And you’ll write a book about something you care about so deeply and think is so important that you will make yourself a better speaker. You will work and re-work that slideshow so that kids don’t fall asleep or pick their nose or text while you’re talking.[2] And, in the end, you will LOVE getting to spend time in schools.

5. People will always want to know what your process is, and you will eventually learn to say, “Hell if I know!” and have it be mostly true. You’ll be a hermit and shy away from critique groups, which is okay. You’ll say you hate drafting, but when you have a good couple of hours at it, you’ll know it’s a lie. You’ll end up liking that stupid Alphasmart that Ally Carter told you to try for, like, two years before you actually did. You’ll re-read and edit and stress over word choices too much.[3] You’ll feel selfish for not paying enough attention to your kids and frustrated that you don’t dedicate enough time to your work. And you’ll remind yourself over and over that it’s all good, that you’re a person and not a bot.

6. You will one day decide that there are three main things at which a writer can excel: plot, characters, and voice. Some people are good at one. Some are good at two. And a few assholes nail all three, which will make you jealous and give you potty mouth. So just be grateful you’ve got one in the bag and keeping working on the others.

7. Finally, here’s the real scoop: good writing is a combination of aptitude[4], hard work, and craft. You think you’re pretty hot stuff right now (or you will tomorrow when you find out Scarlett sold), but you’re about to learn that every manuscript is tough. Nothing in publishing is easy. You are not as good at craft as you thought, but craft is a thing that can be learned. So dig in, babe. Grab a laptop. Start typing. Because this is the only job you’ve ever really loved, and as long as you write today, you can always quit…

tomorrow.

[1] Note: I’m playing along here and pretending to be talking to myself on the night before I find out I’ve sold my first manuscript—even though it was such a bizarre, circuitous path that I don’t actually remember the moment I found out I was going to be published.

[2] This is a lie to keep you optimistic. You can’t stop them from texting.

[3] Please note previous comment about molasses, Arctic Circle, global warming, etc.

[4] As in, you have to be able to string words together coherently to have a chance at getting published

Wow…can I just say how much I LOVE the fact that Jennifer Latham included footnotes! Footnotes!!! Yes, that deserves all the exclamation points. Thanks so much for stopping by, Jen.