Nothing Personal

Because I seem to be missing the gene for alcohol appreciation, I'll leave that topic to those most suited to it. I'll delve straight into 'what I learned from my day job'. Or, in my case, two day jobs, the SQL Database Administrator gig and the acting thing.

The DBA job taught me to recognize priorities, to operate on an interrupt-driven basis and how to remain calm while putting out potentially catastrophic, if metaphorical, fires. In that series of jobs, I learned that I have a reliable, predictable pattern of response when someone challenges a decision I've made. In this case, we were talking about the ideal build out of a datacenter. Perfect world build outs are always insanely expensive. Inevitably, management tells you that you have to find a way to build a stable, secure server farm on a quarter, possibly an eighth of the budget your design called for. When that happens, I discovered I get angry and claim it can't be done. Then I go home. And my brain starts popping up 'what if' scenarios for ways to do exactly what I'd said couldn't be done.

The writerly analog: Edits. Dev edits. Critiques. Beta readers. Whoever. If you write, you're going to hear that not every single word is brilliant. You'll be told that entire sections of your work don't make sense. When that happens, you'll react. It's human. It's instinct. But once I recognized my particular response pattern from the day job, I learned something very important: Shut the F*ck Up. Listen. Take notes. Feel anything I want to feel, but keep my yap shut. Because as wrong, wrong, wrong as all the critiques are, once I get home, it's going to happen again. My traitorous brain will start in. "You know, your CPs had a really good point on this bit...you could try..." And those awful people who just didn't GET what I was trying to say? They turn out to have been 100% right. I make the changes and end up with a much better story.

The point is that if you can identify your reaction pattern and short circuit the defensive portion of it? You can make your changes - or not make your changes - but because you didn't get all defensive and whiney, you can masquerade as a professional. I can pitch a complete toddler-inspired fit on the inside without looking like more of an idiot on the outside than is completely necessary. Bonus.

Acting pounded an equally important lesson into my head that applies as much to writing as it does to acting. It's not personal. Rejection isn't a rejection of *you*. Writing and acting may be about art to you - but to the people buying your product? It's a business. It's about money. When you're work is rejected, it could be for a reason as simple as your hero reminds an editor of her ex. She can't tell you that, and it isn't something you can control, but it isn't about you. Now. This isn't to say there aren't some publishers out there who send some truly crappy rejection letters saying specifically that the writing just isn't good enough when a 'thanks, not for us' would have sufficed. Only you can decide if you want to work for so callous a business. But again - even though that sounds personal, it isn't. Or if it is, it's not personal about *you* - a rejection like that says more about the person it came from than about who it's sent to. If that makes any sense.

So what's the take away on this last bit? Just this. Rejection happens. Yes. I meant to do that, because the thoughts are synonamous. Remember that it isn't you being rejected and wait for specific, actionable information before you begin revising. Your baby isn't ugly until someone points out the cowlick or the pigeon toes. People can intimate and hint all they want, but until someone gives you a specific, resist attacking your work in reaction. By all means, whine, mope, phone a friend, eat a box of chocolate, but don't touch that manuscript until you have an agent or editor say 'I had a problem with x'. Then and only then do you have enough information to act on - and even then, I'd argue that you shouldn't operate on your manuscript without a second opinion.

Does it help? Knowing it's not personal? Or does that make this business all the more crazy-making?

Lines Between Friends and Colleagues

I've been running a series over on my own blog about lessons I've learned from my day job that have trained me for my writing career. There have been a lot of interesting discussions, so I thought I'd challenge the Word Whores this week for their own working life lessons.

This weekend my friends and sister Word Whores Laura Bickle and Marcella Burnard have been visiting me. They are also my critique partners. It's a multi-layered relationship. We talk about writing a lot. We know each other's books nearly as well as our own, so it's easy to wind into conversation at random over some plot point we're mulling. They're also good friends, so we talk about our lives. We can invoke the Cone of Silence and save all our writer rantiness for those conversations with each other, that we trust will go nowhere else.

They are both my friends and colleagues. They, along with a few other writers, form my first circle.

Now, I am also friendly with both of my editors, and one of the executive editors. We have easy relationships where we exchange emails and and tweets. There are several agents I'm also friendly with and I enjoy those relationships.

However, I never forget that these are professional relationships.

At my day job, my immediate boss is someone I've been working with for over ten years. Laurie has been with the company a few years longer than I have, she's a few years older than I am. We have a close and rewarding working relationship. Because we travel extensively together and because we naturally mesh well personality-wise, we have become good friends. One of my closest friends, in fact.

However, I never forget that she is also my boss. I can make jokes about various things, gripe from time to time. But would never discuss with her something that would put her on the spot. Like if I was surfing the internet instead of working, for example. (Laurie - if you're reading this, I would totally NEVER do that. :D ) I know where the line is and I'm careful to observe it.

My presses have authors' loops that the editors also participate in, to greater or lesser extents. They're meant to be discussion forums for us to help and support each other. The editors wade in on questions from time to time, or to banter on various topics. But sometimes authors get ranty and the editors are forced to put on their corporate hats and explain the rules. Those things are based on business - that's their job. Still, sometimes the writers get offended.

This is blurring the lines.

The upshot is, the relationships between writers and those in the publishing industry are professional ones, first and foremost. Being friendly with and enjoying the people you work with is one of the great bonuses of a good professional life. But the line should always be clear.

And the Cone of Silence is the place for venting. No exceptions to that.