Why a best seller isn’t on my to-do list

I found the formula for writing a best-selling novel recently. On the internet, of course, where all good solutions can be found. It was really quite simple.

Pick a topic in a popular genre and write. Submit your stuff to critique groups. Then submit it to one of the publishers who handles best-selling books. It’s a good idea to know your characters before you start writing and it’s also advisable to be sure your plot makes sense.

Now that I know how easy a best-seller is, I had to think about whether I want one right now.

I decided against it at the moment.  I need serious help because I don’t write popular genre stories. And I don’t want to do the interview circuit this year, although I do have to admit that the formula doesn’t say I have to. Maybe I could skip that.

I like marching to a different drummer and wonder how much would have to change in my life to fit the best-selling novel model. Would I have to do more marketing? More research into the better-selling genres? More work on craft?

More importantly, I want my work to convey my message and reflect my themes.

I am excited to report, though, that I start a new class this month offered by Jeff Goins entitled Tribe Writers. The class is about finding the audience that is eager to hear what I have to say and to share it.

I’m OK with that concept. And, really, I’m OK if that turns into a best-seller. Next year.

Remember?

I had coffee yesterday with a couple of friends that I haven’t seen in eight years. My family moved, they don’t do email, the friendship cooled over time.

 But they moved into my area and we met to catch up. We laughed over the Samsonite suitcase story and the 15-passenger van escapade (I’ll tell you those stories another time).

We remembered.  I’m looking forward to making new memories with them.

I’m writing a novel right now about a people, following a cataclysmic event many years before, who refuse to tell their children what happened. Their theory is that remembering brings pain and solves nothing. They throw themselves into coping but their children want memories.

Are answers submerged in memories? Or do memories hold us back?

I’m not going to disclose the ending to my novel. But the idea intrigues me.

We’re programmed to remember. At times, we enjoy the memories. At other times, memories hold us back. Does this trait help us? What do you think?

Why story patterns matter

Patterns always start with a first time and my pattern got rolling when I couldn’t figure out how to light the gas grill in my back yard. I’d just moved into the house and never had one before.

I found the knob for the natural gas on the front and then crawled around on my hands and knees, looking for a opening in the pole to poke in the match. Found it. Then I lit the match and shoved it in.

A fireball exploded over my head, flinging the grill lid skyward. The hinges held and the lid thumped down, putting out the fire.

I’m a quick learner. I never lit a grill like that again.

But there was the time when I had to light an old furnace in a rental house we were renovating. This time, I couldn’t figure out where the pilot light ignition nozzle was located. I did a little hunting with the lit match but this time I knew enough to stand beside the furnace opening, just poking my arm into the furnace mouth.

The match finally bit on some gas. There wasn’t a fireball this time. Just a loud roar that brought my teenage kids down to the basement where they scoped out my blackened arm and singed hair.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I said. They couldn’t hear me above their laughter. The pilot lit, though.

I wasn’t concerned the day I decided to cook hamburgers on our new grill.  I knew the routine. I turned on the propane and pushed the ignition button, just like I had been told. Clicks did not lead to a fire. Phooey. I needed a match again. So I went inside, found the box of matches, opened the grill lid and tossed in a match.

This one was more of a bang than a roar.

Why am I sharing this? I’m a writer and I continue to learn that stories create patterns. In novels. In articles.

And in life, where I am no longer allowed to hold a box of matches anywhere near gas. Patterns matter.

About being published

I don’t consider publication to be the end-all for a writer, even though it sure is nice. I know writers who share their talents in thank-you notes and encouragement letters. Not a bad gig at all.

I know others who exclusively blog. They are putting their insights on a medium that might be seen by readers worldwide. Not bad, either.

 Some writers produce works for their children or their own amusement. Nothing wrong with those goals either.

But I’ve felt the tug to submit for publication. I’m working on a novel right now but those take forever. I wanted to submit now. So I’ve begun writing short stories.

My first appeared in Harpstring’s summer edition. Apparently the pressure of a frantic deadline helped, because I whipped that story out in about three days.

Then came a notification about OakTara looking for short stories for an anthology Falling In Love With You. Because our love story is a little unique, I decided to submit a story for that, too.  That one was accepted and should be available by the end of the month.

Since then I’ve sent in a story to Chicken Soup and entered two short story contests. No word yet on those.

I still don’t consider publication to be the final plateau for a writer but I do have to admit that it’s fun seeing my name in print.

Now, back to my novel…

Falling in Love With You… coming soon

My short story “Unexpected Escape” will appear in OakTara’s anthology, Falling in Love With You, which is scheduled to be published by the first of October. Stay tuned.

I’m not generally a romance writer but my husband and I have a unique story of how we fell in love. And this story, “Unexpected Escape,” chronicles an interesting twist for us.

If you “like” OakTara’s Facebook page, you will then receive notifications on when Falling in Love With You is available – plus you’ll be able to purchase the book at a discount there.

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