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| There from me from the beginning |
The great Jennifer Weiner (author of
Good in Bed, In Her Shoes, and, my personal favorite,
Goodnight Nobody) doesn't need to give advice to the legions of writers salivating over her wild success. With nine bestsellers and 11 million copies in print, she could easily spend the rest of her life in seclusion, mailing out manuscripts for instant publication, and cashing in royalty checks.
Instead, she is constantly going on Twitter to make adoring fans laugh; on Facebook to provide glimpses into her life; and all over the web to answer questions and make hope-swollen writers feel a little bit at ease.
A few years ago, when I decided to stop dreaming about becoming a novelist and do something about it, I found a great deal of guidance from a spot on her website. In addition to the numerous pages reflecting her success, there was one titled "
For Writers."
I was intrigued. For writers? For me? I wasn't sure. Sure, I'd been a journalist for five years, edited a newspaper, and won a handful of awards, but fiction was new to me. Who did the great Jennifer Weiner consider a writer?
Written with her trademark wit, Jen's "completely idiosyncratic, opinionated, flawed and somewhat sassy take on some of the steps you can take to get published" made me feel simultaneously terrified, energized, and cautiously optimistic. No doubt it continues to do the same for many.
Some of her criteria sounded perfect:
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Major in Liberal Arts (but not necessarily creative writing)
I have a bachelor of arts degree in English and communications (plus a minor in history, for good measure) from Boston College. Check.
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Get a Job (not an MFA)
Until reading this, I'd been convinced all those MFA students and publishing house interns were miles ahead of me. Jen gave me a huge boost in confidence here. Like her, I began my career as an entry-level reporter at a community newspaper. Over five years, I steadily climbed the ladder to features editor, assistant editor, and, finally, the first female editor in the publication's 100-year history. Her description of this "occasionally frustrating, desperately underpaid" time, as well as her affinity for feature writing, could have been written in my diary. Perhaps mine wasn't such a bad start after all.
Other points were a bit less encouraging:
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The Unhappy Childhood
Well, as a redheaded kid with freckles, I was an easy target for schoolyard bullies; that was pretty unhappy. But at home, I had a big, loving family. In a world of literati obsessed with divorce, discontent, and tragedy, I wondered, would that make my work obsolete?
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The Miserable Love Life
Yes, I experienced high school and all the teenage angst, heartbreak, and all-consuming crushes that go with it. But was that miserable enough?
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Find an Agent
Umm, sure. Was Joanna available?
Then there were two pieces of advice that turned out (many sleepless nights, crumpled drafts, and rejection letters down the line) to be invaluable:
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Be a Smart Consumer
In other words, don't jump for the first agent who shows interest if your gut is screaming against it. It's lonely navigating these waters some (nah, let's face it,
most) of the time. And when you're ready to drown in self-loathing, it's hard to pass up anyone. Jen's advice gave me strength I desperately needed when the first offer came. Hearing that an insanely successful author whom I greatly admired went through something similar (and survived) made all the difference. Now I can proudly say that I'm represented by Michelle Brower of Folio Literary Management. Sometimes life does give us a few happy endings.
• GET A DOG
Finally, we arrive at the reason I began writing this post in the first place. Few fans of Jennifer Weiner don't know that the lovable Nifkin character in her debut novel
Good in Bed was based on her rat terrier, Wendell (RIP). She has said his appearance is the only thing from her real life that she translated into her book. No doubt that was a cameo well earned with countless afternoons sitting by Jen's side as she typed, tearing her from her writer's cave for a walk around the neighborhood, and forcing her smile when the stress of writing tempted her to cry.
(Of course, I don't know exactly what went on between Jen and Wendell, but this has been my experience with Shadow - for which he most certainly earned his cameo in
Desperately Ever After.)
The life of a writer is so often a solitary one. Had it not been for Shadow, I probably would have drowned months ago in all the rejections, the second-guessing, and the painfully upbeat answers to "So I hear you're writing a book." But Shadow was always there - his mouth curled into a massive smile, his back arched to pounce, his tail swinging back and forth like a hypnotist's talisman summoning me to play.
Even now, while I sit here and wonder how many editors will and won't relate to my characters, or like how I start the first chapter, or stumble with the rhythm of my writing style... at least I know I can make someone uncontrollably happy simply by throwing a ball. We all need that once in a while.
booty each time he went outside. We abandoned all hope of getting him to cover it up while inside the house, which turned out to be fine. Because the quick was already torn apart, I (cringing) cut the nail off completely so it wouldn't get caught on anything. Then I dunked his "toe" in 
