Making Friends in a New Town is Like Writing After You've Become a Publishing Orphan

Making Friends in a New Town is Like Writing After You’ve Become a Publishing Orphan 

by Debra H. Goldstein

The first time I was orphaned by a publisher, my book, Maze in Blue had been in existence for less than six months. Until, as my plane was about to land for my first Sleuthfest, I opened the e-mail telling me my publisher was going out of business, I’d been on cloud nine. The book, a mystery set on the University of Michigan’s campus, was selling well. I was enjoying the opportunity to hobnob with and fan-girl writers I’d admired from afar and to meet other newbies like me. Best of all, I was booked for conference panels, bookstore signings, and book club presentations for at least the next six months.

When my plane landed, I was in a tizzy. Every agent and author I spoke to at Sleuthfest gave me the same advice: “Write something new.” Great advice, but could I? For weeks, I only wanted to roll myself into a ball and hide, but I didn’t. I attended the panels, signings, and other presentations with a smile on my face that hid my inner turmoil. Even winning an IPPY award for the book didn’t change my personal feelings. Despite my emotions, I knew I had to take the advice to write something new, continue taking craft classes, and redouble my networking with other authors.

Basically, I had to fake it until I made it.

I had the same reaction when the publisher of my second book, Should Have Played Poker: a Carrie Martin and the Mah Jongg Players Mystery, decided to end its mystery line. Although I once again felt hollow inside, this time there were other authors who gave me emotional support as I followed the advice to write something new. Happily, things worked out with Kensington soon publishing the first of five Sarah Blair mysteries. 

As I write this, I’ve just moved from Alabama to Georgia. In doing so, I will be nearer to one of my daughters and her family, but I’m leaving behind a great network of friends. Although I know a few people in the Atlanta area, I’m going to have to force myself out of my comfort zone to make new friends. If you give me a microphone, I can be funny, but small talk and reaching out to people is much harder for me. From my writing experience and life in general, I’ve learned that it’s simply a matter of faking it until I make it. 

Fingers crossed that the lessons I’ve learned from writing will translate to being in Georgia.

Write by Number – A Story Problem* by Molly MacRae

In there with the elements of writing—alongside characters, actions, reactions, themes, plots, tension, climax, resolution, and setting scenes with more than stage flats so that readers see, hear, smell, taste and want to pack up and move there—there’s also math. If Millie writes a book of X number of words, how many words per day must Millie write to finish within Y days? Or, if Millie’s manuscript runs X pages, how many pages per day must Millie revise to finish in Y days? It’s not as creative as other elements, but I love the math of writing, too.

*I set myself a math problem with this short piece because I’m in the middle of living Millie’s revision problem. The problem I set: Can Molly write a piece about the math of writing in exactly 100 words? The above paragraph = 100 words. I love writing and the math of writing.

Molly and friend working on deadline

Molly MacRae writes the award-winning, national bestselling Haunted Yarn Shop Mysteries and the Highland Bookshop Mysteries. As Margaret Welch, she writes for Annie’s Fiction. Visit Molly on Facebook and Pinterest and connect with her on Twitter  or Instagram.

 

With a Little Help from My Friends

by Linda Rodriguez

The last year or so has been difficult at times for me with major health problems and serious illnesses and deaths of relatives and close friends. I have managed to come through it and meet deadlines and keep commitments primarily because of my family and friends.

There were those who came by with casseroles while I was going through surgeries and some bad side effects of them. Some people even went to the trouble to send me food from far away. A student in one of my online classes, who’s become a good friend, sent me big coolers of frozen tamales from the best tamale place in Tucson twice just as I returned from hearing bad results on pathology tests. Others sent me lovely cheerful flowers and Amazon gift cards so I’d have something fun to read while going through the whole mess. I can’t begin to tell you how much such thoughtfulness means when the bottom has fallen out of your world.

I’m not a person who wants visitors when I’m sick or hurt. I’m like an animal who wants to curl up in my cave and heal all by myself, but the cards and emails and Facebook messages were encouraging and healing. I was truly grateful for all of them, even when I didn’t have the energy or strength to see anyone but my dear, patient husband and my youngest son, who arrived home from graduate school in time to help take care of Mom through the cancer surgeries and aftermath. What fun!

Then there were the folks who picked up the slack for me. Here on this blog and on the other group blog to which I belong, The Stiletto Gang, other members wrote substitute blogs, posted blogs for me, and took up a good chunk of my load. On The Stiletto Gang blog, I was the de facto blog administrator, and several good friends on the blog pitched in to help with those duties. Now, there are four of us admins, which is all for the best. On Writers Who Kill, our blog admin, Elaine, took over my blogging time while I couldn’t manage it, and the other members have been patient when I’ve not been able to give critique on all the blogs before they go out into the world. (Fortunately, everyone on this blog writes so well that they don’t ever need much editing.)

Because of the generosity of all these people, I’m still blogging on both group blogs, as well as my own, and I have come through the worst of times in pretty darn good shape. As I head into a year that I hope will be a much better, happier time, I find myself overcome with gratitude for all the good friends who stepped in to help—in one way or another—when I needed it most.

Like The Beatles, I get by with a little help from my friends.

Putting Friendships to Paper

So, a confession: I’m on my eighth manuscript (or so) and I’m, for the very first time, writing a true friendship.

Seriously.

It’s funny, because writing friendship is something I totally did not realize I didn’t do until I made the conscious decision to include it.

The second I decided it belonged in this manuscript, the fact that I hadn’t really done it before slapped me right in the face.

That said, I don’t believe my previous main characters were friendless losers.

Nor were they loners.

Not even close.

Every single one of them had friends and family and people they talked to to make the story go round (duh). I mean, this is obvious. Even infamous loner Jack Reacher has people he can talk to. (Though, “Reacher said nothing,” might be one of the series’ most famous lines.)

But, as is the case with many mysteries, the friendships I examined in the past were that of coworkers. You know, people working together on a case, or who join forces to catch a killer. A coworker relationship is a level of friendship, of course, but it’s completely distinct when compared to people who are simply friends.

Plus, in my manuscripts as in many others, there’s often an element of romantic tension coloring the main friendship/working relationship. And that, whether it’s between coworkers or true friends, changes everything about the friendship you’re examining.

But this time around, my main character has a true best friend.

The kind who’d have matching half-heart necklaces if they were a bit younger.

They’re just a couple of girlfriends, who do things girlfriends do.

They call each other. They shop. They dish on boys.

Heck, I have an entire scene where they’re at a pizza joint on a Saturday night. It’s integral to the story, but the scene is really about their friendship (and demonstrating the nature of it) as much as it is about moving the main plot forward.

For some reason, the chance to write this sort of relationship feels liberating. It’s so different from writing boss-underling, coworker-coworker, worker-new worker, will-they-or-won’t-they-get-together “friends.” It’s fun. It’s fresh. And it reminds me of the girls I love and feel grateful to call friends.

How do you approach friendship in your manuscripts? Is there room for it, or does it hang out on the sidelines?