Otherways- Fiction Fanatics

Since I am two weeks out from the American National Welsh horse show, wherein I will be showing a couple of ponies, and running the awards, I may have horse shows on the brain. Whether you show or not, though, there are a few things that are pretty much the same between showing a horse, and trying to get a novel published.

For instance, if you want to win, you can’t just pull Dobbin out of the field and show up, even if you are just doing halter. Horses are big animals, and they love to be outside, but they’re like five year old kids. If there’s dirt, they’ll find it. If you are lucky enough to be showing one of the ‘brown’ horses, like a bay or chestnut, one bath may be plenty. On a golden palomino, or a silvery gray, it isn’t going to do the trick, trust me.

Rough drafts are the same. Let’s say you’ve got a good draft, with a solid premise, great characters and dialog, and no major plot holes. It still isn’t going to fly without some serious polishing. If you want, you can just brush it off and send it in the ring to compete, but I wouldn’t expect much out of that approach. In a decent sized halter class, where your horse is judged just on how well he or she is built and how well they represent the breed, there are often twenty or more horses vying for the same title.

For a publisher, with one or two spots open for a particular genre, it may be hundreds of novels, all wanting that same slot.

No, a single misspelled word in an otherwise flawless work isn’t going to eliminate you from the winner’s circle, but you need to be head and shoulders above the competition if you expect to win.

Herein lies the major problem for both worlds: you only learn how to achieve the best results by applying perfectionism, and getting yourself out there, but that same perfectionism can be emotionally crippling.

Fortunately for novelists, your written work is unlikely to feel your fear, become scared itself, overreact to stimuli and dump you on your tail in front of dozens of onlookers. Horses certainly will. What does happen to writers, though, is that they let their insecurity creep into their cover letters, telegraphing to the editor that even they aren’t sure their work is worth publishing. Naturally, that leads to even more rejection.

Often, this cycle makes writers give up. They stop writing, stop submitting, or both.

Giving up is the only sure way to lose. If you eventually want to win, then you are going to have to learn to play the game. That means, in either field, that you practice every day. You seek advice, and strive for incremental progress. You celebrate your successes, and learn to laugh at your failures even if they still sting.

Perfection is a myth, but striving toward it is a great way to better yourself. You will make mistakes, you will find glaring errors in the manuscript you thought was perfect, usually right after you sent it out to your first choice of publisher. You will start on the wrong side of the cone in a major horse show, execute a flawless pattern, only to realize you’ve totally disqualified yourself. It happens, don’t let it eat you alive, just learn from it and move on.

You don’t have to be perfect, just better than the competition on that given day. With persistence, that day always comes.

Cheers,

Michelle