HUNKERING DOWN
Friday, October 22, 2010 at 7:00AM in Stephen Jay Schwartz It happens too easily, doesn’t it? This loss of time.
Where did it go? I look back, month to month, and identify the actions that kept me from writing.
It must have been a year ago that I turned in my final draft of BEAT. The first thing I did next was work on the proposal for my next book. I spent about two months on an idea set in the Los Angeles Harbor. Did a ton of research, digging into the lives and cultures of the people living in San Pedro. I took a four-hour tour of a container ship, led by the ship’s captain. I did tours of the harbor on a fireboat. I studied and prepared and learned what I could about my characters’ lives.
I wrote the proposal and I sent it to my agent and he nixed it. Didn’t feel it would sell. I began again.
I put my head into a cool idea about grifters. Ensemble crime piece with twisted characters and a fresh story. I wrote the proposal and sent it to my agent and…he nixed it. He suggested that I write an international thriller—possibly for Hayden Glass. I came up with another idea and wrote two proposals using the same storyline: one was a standalone and one was a Glass book. I wrote two twenty-page proposals and sent the Hayden one to my editor.
While I was waiting on his answer, my editor suggested I write a “Hayden” short story – something we could give away for free on Kindle and other e-book venues. Something to introduce new readers to the world of Hayden Glass.
It took two months to write “Crossing the Line,” a short story prequel to Boulevard. It documents the moment a younger Hayden Glass, just one year into the LAPD (two weeks into the Vice unit), picks up a prostitute, fully intending to arrest her, and instead “crosses the line.” It’s the first time his addiction appears on the scene. The story should show up any day now, and I intend to post a pdf file of it for download from my website.
After finishing the short story I waited for word on my book proposal, busying myself by marketing Boulevard, prepping and attending conferences like Thrillerfest, doing library gigs, working the day job, spending time with my family, dealing with the impending short sale of my house. There were plenty of things to keep me from writing a novel.
Ultimately, my editor suggested that I write a standalone, and my agent agreed. But a book deal didn’t emerge and I was instructed to write the standalone without a contract.
Once I determined what I was going to write, once I had my agent on board (after all, he’s the one charged with selling the thing, it’s a whole lot easier if he’s passionate about the story from the start) I settled in to do the research.
I spent a couple months interviewing professionals and reading books about the FBI. I somehow managed to finagle a trip to Europe for a little “boots on the ground” action. I set a hard-and-fast deadline to begin writing the novel, a date that should have given me plenty of time to prepare.
That date is November 1.
I haven’t finished my research. I haven’t even finished typing my handwritten notes from Europe into my computer.
Meanwhile, the launch of BEAT has required that I spend weeks doing interviews and writing blogs. I’ve thrown myself into the marketing, doing everything possible to give BEAT a chance. And then came Bouchercon and my SF launch and all the signings and touring leading up to the conference. And there are signings and touring still to come.
That elusive “start” date feels like it’s slipping away. My wife and I have to move the crap that has accumulated in our house over the past five years and move it to a small apartment in less than three weeks. We have yet to define what is garbage, Goodwill, recycle, storage or apartment-stuff. This could take all of my time, further derailing my plans to have a book out quickly. As it is it’ll take eight months to write the book, using weeknights after work and full weekend days, and then I’ve got to sell it, execute an editor’s notes, then wait ten months to see it released.
Tonight my wife told me not to let anything get in the way of my writing. She said that she would somehow deal with everything else. I’m responsible for keeping my day job and writing the next book and that is all.
I think I’ve done enough marketing. I’m not sure how much it helps anyway. And I think I’ve done enough waiting for others to tell me what to do next.
You know, Brett Battles told me this would happen. He said it would sneak up on me, that I should write the next book without waiting for permission.
And Bob Crais told me not to get lost in the machine, but to “write the next book, always write the next book.”
I know how I get when I write. Everything else falls to the wayside. Writing is all-consuming. That means I’ll have no time for anything else. I’ve been afraid to jump in, afraid that the house will fall apart, that I won’t spend time with my family, that the world around me will crash and burn. I’m going to have to trust that my wife can do what needs to be done. Homeschool the kids, manage the bills, pack up the house and move a family of four and a dog and a fish.
November 1st. Chapter One. First sentence. Time to write.
Beat, Boulevard, Stephen Jay Schwartz 
Reader Comments (29)
Many of them are grappling in the dark with much less prep.
Good luck!
BTW: You're blessed to have such an supporting spouse.
Good luck, however you get it done.
I could have written this post, with a few different details. I suspect we all could have. I keep forgetting my own rule about pages being the most important part of writing - churning out pages no matter what's on them and no matter what else is in your life, because that's what makes a book. But this week - pages. Every day.
Thanks for the nudge.
I'm not doing the NaNoWriMo challenge thing, by the way. I gotta have my own pace.
Hang in there, Stephen.
I bet every writer can relate to your post today. I did a similar thing on July 1. I committed to writing fiction every day. I can't do it full time; I have two active PR clients that take a lot of time (and bring me pleasure too). But I can write fiction daily. I can. I do. And I've never felt better as a writer in my life.
And, Louise...thanks for your support, but I ain't dissing my agent here. He's very frank about his beliefs and he's a top-notch guy. If I didn't feel his comments had merit I would have proceeded with writing one of the other books. Thanks for having my back, though.
And if you wanted to work in some historical fact, there was the explosion of the empty oil tanker 'Sansinena' - Dec. 17, 1976.
Every day, a new beginning.
AMEN!
By the way, Cornelia - I loved hanging out with you. God, I wish I could've stayed with that John Connelly party as it moved from the lobby to indoors...but that damn 8:30 am panel slot was staring me in the face, and I'd only had about five hours sleep combined during the previous three days. How wild did it end up getting?
No doubt you'll find the groove. I give you special permission to use my own sensitive motivational writing motto, which seems particularly apt in this case: Just write the damn book.
Spence
Shit, it sounds like too much work already. Maybe I should just go to Hawaii and work as a bartendar.
How does that oft repeated quote go? Something about fear being the "mind killer."
Geez, man. Have a little faith. Just write the damn book. Besides, if you're letting fear convince you to procrastinate, after all your success, that bodes ill for people like me. It tells me I should be afraid too. That maybe I should be typing some fucking notes into my computer instead of producing new pages. Knock it off. That goes for you too, Alex.
And hey, I once had to pack up and move a family of four, a dog and SEVERAL fish. Across two state lines. All by myself. My then-husband had already relocated and the kids were preschool age and I had a badly injured knee. Plus it was July. In the South. By the time moving day came, we looked like something out of The Grapes of Wrath -- all we needed was granny's rocker strapped to the top of the car. But I did it. Do not underestimate your wife. If she doesn't kick your ass, I will. Really, have a little faith.
Why are you reading this? Go. Write.
So where's your book? (Foot tapping sound in background) I'm so ready to read you after all of your great comments on this blog. : )
XXOXX
The fear never goes away. I doubt myself the entire way. Then I look at my book and know it sucks. And I try to fix it. Then send to my editor, thinking it's good, and getting it back and realizing it REALLY sucks, and rewrite the entire thing. It's taking me longer to write each book. People think I'm fast, but I'm not. I just spend a lot of hours writing and rewriting and rewriting.
You can get this book done Stephen. You've already written TWO books. Had them published. You can write the third. It won't be easier. But it will be done.