It seems like such a daunting title, "writer." Because to say I am a writer means that I have to write. That's maybe the most daunting part of it, admitting that you want something. What if it doesn't work out? What if it takes a turn and suddenly you're floundering with no footing?
What if you put all this effort into becoming the "writer" only to realize that it's not what you want?
I'm a fairly private person. I don't voluntarily share much of myself because I got this idea ingrained in my head around middle school that people won't want to hear about the things I'm excited about. My friends have different interests, different lives, everyone's busy. Surely no one wants to listen to me talk about my writing for hours on end.
But I can. Because I have them now. I have books, plural, and I'm only writing more.
How did I get here? Well, it all started on a cloudy day in April. (That's not true; I actually can't remember what day it was or what the weather was like. And that's kind of the point, it was just another day.) On this day, I was scrolling Pinterest when I saw a writing prompt: Put your music on shuffle, click play. The first song that comes up is your protagonist, the second is the next character you choose (antagonist, side kick, etc.), and the third song is their relationship.
I don't remember what songs came up, I just remember that the result was a tendril of an idea. A girl who was lost, exiled, and lonely. A boy who was so similar and yet so different. And a world of magic in which the two were born enemies, only to find their way together.
And as I sat and thought and considered, I realized that this little tendril of an idea that came to me was something I would want to read. But it didn't exist. So, if I wanted to read it, first I had to write it.
When I was in grade school, I had attempted the task of writing a book. (When I was feeling really adventurous, I attempted writing in French--I am very not French.) But I never got past the first chapter or two. I had a brilliant idea, I wrote the scene in my head, and then nothing. My brain emptied and the project was abandoned.
So when this idea was presented to me, I knew that if I wanted to complete it, I couldn't just sit down and write. I needed to outline. I needed to plot the story from beginning to end so that--even if it was terrible--by the time I finished I would have a book. (Read: I needed to find my own writing process and commit.)
And it was terrible. I was so proud of it. I thought it would only need a couple passes. A few edits and the thing would be polished and ready to query. In my young, idealistic writer brain, I would be done by the end of the year.
That was 2018.
I started drafting in May of 2018 and I finished drafting in July 2018. I ripped those words from within in the span of about 7 weeks. And then I let others read it thinking that it was so great and automatically everyone would love it.
My readers were gracious. They gave me so many helpful pointers, but the reality was I had no idea what I was doing. And draft after draft, I began to realize that. But at that point, I knew that I could do it. I knew that I could write one book, and therefore I could write another.
So I did.
I alternated between projects, drafting and editing and back again. I managed to balance college and writing and self-care until my final semester when I was so overwhelmed with classes that I had no choice but to take a break.
Each new project, I learned something new to apply. The first manuscript was a trial run. I had to learn everything from the ground up and it was rough but we made it through. The second manuscript, I learned to outline better, to create character sheets, to world build. The third manuscript I outlined and built in just a couple days.
I also learned my process. In those years, I developed a set of guidelines to get me from point A to point B. It refines a little each time, but the core has remained the same. And, for me, that means that I don't need to know everything to start drafting, just the important parts.
Then, in October 2020, I met critique partners. Let me tell you, beta readers are fantastic. They know what to look for as readers, but meeting people that are in the same line of work as you, that are as invested in your projects as you are: game changer. Not to mention they will look at your work from a writing perspective: are you getting those messages across? Is your character arc consistent? Is it working? Does it each scene further the plot?
I've learned more about myself and writing in the past few months than in the two years prior to that moment. My work is stronger for it, I have an excellent support system, and I now know that I love to mentor and be mentored. I love to learn and share what I'm learning.
Today, I have three books written, one being drafted, one outlined and ready to draft, and ideas waiting on the table. I'm also planning to query my first book in the next few weeks, only a handful of years after it was first conceived.
So to sum up some of the key lessons that I've learned:
Find your people. Find people ahead of you, at the same level as you, and behind you. Each one is a new learning opportunity. And when you find those people, trade your works. Trade it with an open mind. You are here to help your fellow writers get their message across. What's the best way that you can do that?
Be realistic. Set goals, have dreams, but look at your work like you look at anyone else's work. Where can it be improved? What might you be holding on to that needs to change? But also trust your instincts. This is your work, just because someone else might write your book differently doesn't mean that their way is more correct.
Take time. Don't push a project just to have it completed. Leave space between drafts to come at it with fresh eyes.
Read. Read anything. Fiction, non-fiction, craft books, friends' manuscripts. Everything you take in helps you to know what's out there, what you like and don't like, what works for someone and what works for you.
Don't compare. Everyone out there in the writing field is just as invested as you. Don't look at someone else's work and compare it to your own for better or worse. It will either make you insecure for not being as good, or proud for being so much better. Celebrate your fellow writers. Lift them up. The publishing industry is small and these are the people that will be standing beside you one day as colleagues.
Learn your process. Writing is such an individual thing. What works for one writer may not work for you. Take the time to get to know how you write, research, organize, because trying to copy Leigh Bardugo's process or Sarah J Maas's process will probably not work.
Don't stop. If writing is what you want to do, don't just write one book and bet your whole hand on it working out. Keep writing. Write more books, practice building words and characters. Work on anything else in between but don't. stop. writing.
Believe in yourself. Everyone starts somewhere. I started between semesters at college on a whim thinking I would write one book and be done with it. (Ha, little did I know.) The books you see on the shelves weren't just natural talent. They were years of edits and emails and marketing and countless other hands making that one book appear in book stores. This is a tough job. You have to have a thick skin and a drive to motivate yourself. But it's so worth it.
I would absolutely love to hear how you got started writing. Feel free to shoot me an email or leave a comment. Or you can find me on Instagram and share your story that way.
Happy writing,
Erin Ogilvie-Fisher
