This Old Manuscript

by Annette Dashofy

Have you ever taken on a project or a job or a task that you knew from the get-go was going to be way too much work and take way too much time?

No, I’m not talking about being a conference coordinator, although that definitely falls into the category.

A few months back, my friend Nancy Martin proposed a summer project for six local writers. A critique boot camp. Four measly weeks, mid July to early August, during which we each pledged to submit 25 to 50 pages each week and give thorough, written critiques of the other five members’ submissions. In theory, that’s potentially 250 pages to read and comment on, in addition to our own writing.

I jumped on it very much the same way I jumped on the conference coordinator gig four years ago. These things always sound so far in the future that I’m certain I’ll have all sorts of time by then.

It’s a form of insanity. I’m convinced of it.

Also, in my defense, at the time we were planning this, I was going to run a completed manuscript through it…one that I had ready to start submitting.

Then, one week before our first submission deadline, I received one of my older manuscripts back from an agent I’ve been working with. It came with two pages of editorial notes and lots of comments in the margins. In other words: a lot of revision work to do.

I considered taking the easy way out. Stick to Plan A and use the polished manuscript for the boot camp. But I didn’t want to put off revising the one that had sparked an agent’s interest, especially since she’s put an awful lot of time, thought and effort into it. Plus, I’d be a fool to skip the chance to receive feedback on it from these five other writers, all of whom I respect immensely. It would be like tackling a complete home renovation alone when the THIS OLD HOUSE team was ready and willing to assist.

So I’ve been in panic-stricken revision mode for the last several weeks. I’ve turned down lunch invitations, put off doctor’s appointments… Heck, I even passed up a lucrative paying job (not a writing one) in order to focus on rewriting and revising This Old Manuscript.

We had our first meeting this past Sunday. The feedback was invaluable, as I knew it would be. But it also showed me that I need to revise my revisions. Again. How many times have I rewritten Chapter Two over the years? I’ve lost count.

Our next submission deadline is TOMORROW. Will I have at least 25 pages?

I keep thinking of Jonathan Maberry, who completed a manuscript DURING the Pennwriters Conference this year. In the middle of the bar. Between workshops and keynote speeches. All to meet his deadline the day after the conference ended.

So, YES. Between writing blogs, teaching yoga, and giving a mini-workshop for a Pennwriters meeting. I will have at least 25 pages by tomorrow.

Feel free to demand to know my progress as the day wears on. But don’t be surprised if I disappear for great stretches of time. 

YOU WROTE A BOOK.

By Patricia Gulley



You…wrote a book.

You wrote a book!

You wrote a book?



Think about these three sentences with the emphasis on either the first or last word. Then think of all the different tones of voice that could be used while saying each of them, and you will have yet another thing an author faces after assuming she/he has finally scaled the insurmountable wall called ‘Published’

And most of these comments come from people you know not the great sea of readers out there in the world who don’t know you from Eve, who you are hoping will buy your book. No, mostly it comes from people you’ve met over the course of your life.

Disbelief that you had any qualifications to do anything, leads to a nanosecond of doubt that they may have misjudged you, followed by the thought that you printed it out on your computer and are hand-selling something that comes on paper with dolly wheel edging. Or they may give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it is an autobiography or family history, and they are pleased they don’t have any interest in it.

Then there is surprise and pleasure that you may now be a celebrity and they can claim they know you. That is usually followed by shock that you haven’t received hundreds of thousands of dollars in advance to be followed by millions more in royalties, and ending with disappointment that you will not be taking them out for lunch.

Fear that you are going to expect them to spend money.

Fear that you are going to expect them to read your book, even though there is the expectation that you will give them a free copy.

Over the years I have read many an author’s first efforts at going out and trying to do the promotion thing. Some have worried about their ability to stand up in front of an audience and talk about themselves or their book, because they remember public-speaking classes from school. To their surprise, this is not half the problem that getting people to show up becomes. From then on, it is the stomach wrenching, ulcer on the way terrors of finding no one has come to see or hear you. Or, they may find themselves sitting or standing at the entrance of a bookstore having to ‘hawk’ the book. I have worried about these things and can understand the Pure Terror it causes.

But no, there is an audience, they know who you are and they have come to see and hear you. Some are good friends, and others are acquaintances that you haven’t seen in a while and you are so pleased they remember you. Until! Skip back up to the top of this blog.

I don’t know if there is a question here, if the published writers have experienced any of this, I’d hate to ask you to recall the incident, much less comment. For the unpublished, it may bring back memories of people to whom you’ve mentioned that you are writing a book, and have experienced those same three sentences.

And to think I thought it would be all marketing and traveling and having a wonderful time trying to find time to write the next one. Oh well!