I Have No Magic, No Secret by Kathryn Magendie
“Hard days, lots of work, no money, too much silence. Nobody’s fault. You chose it.”
—Bill Barich
At a conference where I stare covetously at beautiful covers on beautiful books by beautiful authors I decide were sprinkled by magic stardust as they walked under the sky at just the right instant (and know talent and timing are twin powerheads in the publishing business), I’m approached by a woman who’d sat next to me during an author panel. She says, “I’m writing a novel!”
I say, “How exciting! Are you having fun with it?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, there’s intrigue and romantic situations, but it’s not a romance or mystery, and anyway…I want to ask what you think about my chances.”
“Chances for what?”
“For getting it published.” She opens her canvas tote and takes out pen and paper, looks at me expectantly.
“Well, I don’t know.” I then ask, “Is the novel completed?”
She taps her chin with her pen. “What kind of money do you think I’ll get? I need about one-hundred thousand to start.”
I blink. “One hundred thousand dollars?”
With fervent hope, she says, “I don’t want to get too invested in it until I know for sure what I’ll make, and I figure that amount’s a good start, right?”
“Well, anything can happen, but—
“—look at Grisham, lives like a King, right?”
“Well, you should write it first; that’s the fun part.”
She laughs. “Well, see, I want to quit my job, and then I can go on tour, stay in nice hotels, talk to fans about how I came up with the idea. It’s so exciting to be a writer, isn’t it?”
Should I tell the truth and pop the sparkly bubble that hovers above her? How she needs to actually write her novel, then revise it and revise it and revise it and revise it; and once this is accomplished, begin the query process—write a compelling letter to agents explaining why her book is ten stories above all the one-story fiction queries that are piled upon the agent’s desk. If an agent is acquired, then the agent must convince an editor to take it on, and the editor must convince the publisher to publish it. Finally, if the publisher publishes it, the author will for the most part have to market the book herself, as publishing houses rarely foot the bill for a grand book tour.
Should I further mention how the author must prepare for financial disappointment? That unless one is catapulted to a best seller’s list and Oprah’s Book Club and a big movie deal, money will not flood the bank, but instead trickle in languidly, or even eventually evaporate away?
Meanwhile, the author must glue her butt in the chair and write another book, one as good as or better than the last, and convince everyone the next book should be published. Sisyphus at last rolls the rock to the top of the hill, only to have to do it again and again.
Yet, this writing life is mine. I chose it. I write with the knowledge I may never be a financial success, much less a literary one. I write with love and care and commitment. John Steinbeck said, “You start out putting words down and there are three things—you, the pen, and the page. Then gradually the three things merge until they are one and you feel about the page as you do about your arm. Only you love it more than you love your arm.” Steinbeck has reached into my heart and extracted the perfect words to describe this beautiful madness of mine.
I tell the woman, “I do wish you all the best.”
She stops smiling. “That’s it? That’s all you got?”
I level my gaze. “Except this: Write your words. That’s where I’d start. Write the words you love, and the rest will work itself out one way or the other.”
“Okay, I guess so.” She puts her pen and paper back inside her tote, turns and walks away.
I’ve let her down. I’ve not said anything magical. I think about how many writers there are swirling about in some massive, dark, loud, debris-filled tornado who hope to find Oz behind the curtain and ask The Great One where home and heart and courage and intelligence lies. Inside the storm are also those who call themselves writers who rarely write, who strut about with flimsy intentions; or sadly, those who really are writers and are afraid to call themselves that; or the ones who give up after a few rejections. I think about how writers are not always respected by the industry we try so hard to make our mark in, maybe because at times we can seem desperate and scared and strange; maybe because we tumble about, looking for our place in a giant swirl of words and people and agents and editors and writers and writer wannabes. What a mess! I have no magic to give! I have no secret to success except for stubborn tenacity—the ability to sit down and write the words, even when there is no surety the words will find Home.
I leave the conference, go to my room, open my laptop and work. There is lovely silence, except for my sighs and the tapping of my fingers against the keys. I stop to wonder if the woman will write her novel and if it will give her everything she desires. I hope so. I really do. I write, and I write, and I write, and I write. That’s what I do. What about you?
(A version of this was first published in The Guide, Waynesville, NC)
Kathryn Magendie is Co-Publisher/Editor at Rose & Thorn Journal and the author of Tender Graces and its forthcoming sequel Secret Graces. Visit her at kathrynmagendie.com
As an addendum, since this was written for The Guide, I have published two novels and another on the way - and I don't have an agent (will I try to get one; maybe maybe not - I don't know) . . . so, sparkly dreams do come true, but only if you are willing to work your arse off - at some point, before, during, after - or all three.
Have fun.
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Sigh. Poor woman. She will probably never finish her book because she will never see that the magic lies in all the work a writer does.
This is how I see myself: writing, revising, revising, revising. And doing it all again day after day.
You're right. There's no special secret to it all.
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Such is the reaction of the shallow. I wish this woman well, but frankly, she just doesn't get it. In one of my favorite sites, www.victoriamixon.com, Victoria sums it up nicely. "... It means creating the literature you long to create, getting down in just the right words the story that only you can tell.
And knowing you did it." For me, that is worth so much more than fortune or fame. This is the call of the writer's heart.
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You've said it all here. (I'd think maybe that conference woman was me, but I don't have a canvas tote.) LOL.
And PS, you ARE magical!
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Thanks for this post! I've seen people act like that before - thinking that a book will bring them riches and fame. Not likely. I write for the writing alone, and if I happen to sell a few copies with traditional publishing or even self publishing, I'm happy.
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Elizabeth, thanks for the link in your comment! What a delight to come here and find that all the comments are from familiar folks.
This is a lovely essay, Kat. And I will tell you all frankly that there's no use wasting energy on people like this woman. I get contacted by them all the time. I give them what they hire me for and send them on their merry ways. No one will ever hear from them again.
I also get contacted by serious writers, and with them I spend my long, luxurious, working hours, crafting their visions into the novels they knew they could be. It's hard work, it makes us grow and change, and it takes a really long time. And we love it.
There are two writing tornadoes currently out there: the big, messy, modern, marketing one in which people hope to make a killing off this "writer" business, and the little, precious, old-fashioned one in which those of us afflicted with the writing bug spend our lives writing our blessed little hearts out because it makes us feel more alive.
I'm with Steinbeck.
Love your arm.
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“I have no magic, No Secret” is written by Kathryn Magendie. It is about a woman who is in pursuit to become a writer. She has just started a novel. She is not having fun with it. Actually she is confused, whether someone will be ready to publish her book. She wants to get money before she formally starts the novel. She wants to be a very famous writer without any hard work. She wants to live life king size.
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Excellent article!
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