What Kind of Writer Do I Want To Be?

WritersConference

Oct 28

It’s one thing to complete a novel, and something else entirely to navigate what happens next. The first-ever Gotham Writers Conference Oct. 25 and 26 at the Ace Hotel in Manhattan left me inspired and open to the question: What kind of writer do I want to be?

Far from painting a cookie-cutter vision of what defines success, panelists portrayed each writer’s journey as unique and project-specific. They challenged assumptions about social media and the nirvana of landing an agent, while acknowledging the difficulty of maintaining a creative career as we enter the 2020s.

Author Kody Keplinger described herself as a “hopeful pessimist” and began her path to publishing thinking, “it’s probably not going to sell, but I might as well give it a shot.” I found her advice very helpful: “Authors need to ask, What kind of novelist do I want to be? One and done? One every two-to-three years? One every year?” Her question was not a judgement, but acknowledgment of different realities, and different ways to publish.

I loved Author Joselin Linder’s guidance to be flexible and forward-thinking: “Hope the project sells, and be ready to move on to the next.” One thing is certain, and I agree with Joselin: “If you don’t go for it, nothing will happen.”

A presentation on “Embracing Rejection” by Author Kim Liao hit the mark. “There’s an opportunity to be rejected at any point, even after landing an agent,” she said. “Agents are waiting for you to lay the golden egg so they can sell it.” A fun and salient observation, particularly if your project never gets agented.

Everyone knows authors need to be all over “Social,” right? I cracked up when Weike Wang, award-winning author of Chemistry, revealed she flat out quit Facebook because it sent annoying notifications. She dislikes social media, along with the majority of the writers I met at the conference. I think social media works for people who have tons of followers they don’t know, but if the majority of your followers are friends, it makes no sense to blast them more than once about buying your book.

Day 2 of the conference featured 10 pitching roundtables, according to genre. Two agents at each table went over query letters and the first two or so pages of our manuscripts. It was insightful, but also disheartening: no one at my table was asked to submit either a partial or full. We each need to assess what’s next. Some may revise, some may file the project away, some may ultimately indie-publish.

But we all learned what Kim Liao had told us Friday, “You don’t have control over if other people like your work.” We can only control our reaction, and figure out what makes sense. Some projects are right for agents, most are not. It’s OK and part of self-definition. For me, sales of The Banished will allow me to join the Horror Writers Association, a major step toward the writer I want to be.