Today’s post is by Brian Rendell.
Entering any new field is challenging but breaking into today’s writing profession is a daunting proposition. Publishers’ budgets are stretched, indie and traditional models appear to be colliding, AI is disrupting norms, and agents are overwhelmed with submissions.
I recently set sail on these choppy waters, hoping to find a safe haven for my historical fiction manuscript-in-progress. While still a newcomer, I have learned some lessons over the past eighteen months to help chart a course.
I offer three suggestions to assist new writers: Embrace It, Try It, and Maximize It.
1. Embrace it.
Thirty years in business taught me that opportunities abound during periods of turbulence. If everyone is feeling unsteady, then newcomers who haven’t yet gained their sea legs are at less of a disadvantage than they would be during a time of stability. Embrace this time of upheaval and jump in; you just might have something unique to offer.
First, take a deep breath, and accept that you are a writer. If you write regularly and want to achieve the dream of being published, you simply must be prepared to tell the world you are a writer. If you don’t take yourself seriously, how do you expect others to do so?
I received this advice during the first year of my MFA. I confess it took me a while to accept it. I had spent thirty years establishing myself in the finance profession, so it was hard to park that former identity and adopt a creative persona. I experienced the disquieting feeling of being an imposter and a dreamer. But I knew if I wanted to pursue my dream, I had to embrace it.
This advice was reinforced during a recent writing retreat-of-a-lifetime aboard the Queen Mary 2. I swallowed hard and took the advice of Jane Friedman and other instructors to heart. I no longer refer to myself as a “Retired Financial Professional & Aspiring writer”—far too lengthy a handle on social media—and have accepted that I am indeed a writer. It was liberating to put myself out there.
The good news is that I have the support of my former colleagues, who are watching me with interest and curiosity, and the encouragement of writers and industry members from a wide range of backgrounds and experience: fellow MFA students, mentors and lecturers, participants on writing retreats and webinars, local authors and members of writing groups across North America and the UK. This encouragement gave me the confidence to submit essays and articles such as the one you’re reading today. This has led to further connections and supporters.
I recently heard two insightful writing podcasters and agents (CeCe Lyra and Carly Watters) say “Book people are good people”—I love that! My experience has confirmed this.
After embracing the title “writer,” I reached out via email to three well-established authors expert in the history my manuscript explores. To my pleasant surprise, all three responded promptly to my outreach and provided answers to my questions with genuine encouragement. This confirmed for me that I was a writer who could engage with those more experienced in the field, as a peer.
Rather than feeling too inexperienced to deserve a seat at the table, I’ve embraced my place as a member of the writing community. Do I have a lot to learn? Of course. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have something to offer.
2. Try it.
A benefit of being a newcomer in turbulent times is you can take risks. You don’t have anything to lose and who will notice if it doesn’t work?
The first risk I took was enrolling in an MFA program. An MFA is not a prerequisite for success in the writing world, and not the route for everyone, but I recognized my need for structure and foundational building blocks. It was difficult, humbling, and intimidating going back to school in my mid-fifties, especially in a field in which I was inexperienced. But I was willing to be open minded, accept feedback, and work hard. In addition to learning writing craft and the business of publishing, it’s given me a supporting network of writing colleagues, expert instructors and valuable mentors. Most importantly, it’s given me confidence.
After a year of MFA experience, I embarked on a research trip to London. I walked its streets searching for locations relevant to my manuscript, including a townhouse in Belgravia. I was thrilled to find it and stood outside on the sidewalk for ten minutes taking photos and trying to absorb its surroundings to help me write from my character’s perspective in 1916. The building looked like it may be open to the public, but I wasn’t sure. I longed to go inside but imposter syndrome reared its head. I thought, “Who do you think you are? What will you say if you walk into a private residence? You’re not a ‘real’ writer.” I began to walk away when my fledgling writer’s confidence stopped me. I said to myself, “Who knows when I will be in London again? What do you have to lose?” I went back and approached the entryway.
To my surprise, the imposing black door automatically opened inward revealing three well-dressed attendants standing behind a desk, likely watching me via CCTV taking photos of their building. After a few awkward moments, I introduced myself (as a writer, of course), and explained how the building related to my manuscript-in-progress. Curious, they invited me inside and introduced themselves as employees of owners of a group of luxury townhouses. Rather than rebuff me as I feared, they were genuinely interested in my work and shared more details about the history of the building. After exchanging emails, one of the employees took me around back, past security, and provided more information about the building’s historic mews in the back lane. He gave me fascinating details about the neighborhood, including directions to a classic pub that was tucked away, down a narrow cobblestone lane. I visited the Grenadier, first built in 1720, for lunch, had a great chat with the manager and now have a new authentic location, new scene and a story twist for my manuscript.
It was exhilarating to step forward and walk through that door. My takeaway is to seize opportunities when they arise. You will never know what’s behind a closed door unless you take a risk and give it a try.
3. Maximize it.
When I began to prioritize writing in my fifties, I knew I’d be behind other writers in terms of reading and creative writing experience; I had forsaken those activities during my finance career. While I’m trying my best to make up for lost time, I know I can’t close the gap for having spent thirty years adrift in a corporate sea with few novels in sight.
What I learned, however, is the experience from my former career gave me skills I can transfer to the writing world. For example: meeting tight deadlines, maintaining focus and stamina, networking and being open to critical feedback.
In his book, StrengthsFinder 2.0, Tom Rath suggests identifying, honing, and maximizing your strengths. One of the identified strengths for me was “ideation”; I’m intrigued by connecting disparate phenomena. That’s a skill I didn’t use extensively in my previous career but one I find myself using a lot in my research and writing.
Undoubtedly, you too have unique skills and strengths that make you stand out. Discover what those are and maximize them to help in your writing.
Embrace that you are indeed a writer and enjoy the thrills and opportunities that come with that. Naturally, there will be setbacks and disappointments but that’s to be expected when you attempt something new; it’s part of the learning process. There’s no better time than now to dip your oar in the water while writing and publishing is in a state of flux and traditional paths are disappearing.
Try new things and look for opportunities. There isn’t a singular course to success in this field. Understand what makes you unique and maximize your strengths to navigate your own route.
and, as we say in Newfoundland and Labrador to wish someone positive wind in their sails, Long May Your Big Jib Draw.
Brian Rendell is nearing completion of the first draft of a historical fiction manuscript, inspired by his grandfather, and set in mystical Newfoundland and England during the beginning of the 20th century. He is in the final year of an MFA (Fiction) from the University of King’s College (Halifax, Nova Scotia) and serves on the board of directors of the Atlantic Book Awards Society. His essays have been published or about to be published in Brevity Blog and WORD Magazine. His decision to retire from a career in finance to focus on writing was featured in an op-ed in the Globe & Mail. For more about Brian and his work in progress, visit brianrendell.com.
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