Write Good or Die

not mention any names, because there are probably several dozen in your immediate vicinity. Open it and read the first page. By the third paragraph, something is happening. Nine times out of ten, it is something important, life and death, love or loss, something that makes you want to know more. Something that makes you—GOTCHA—turn the page.
    As writers, we are often tempted to impress other writers with our stylistic genius. Believe me, I’m still enough of an average reader to know that we don’t care about your genius. We want a story, we want it fast, and we want it to teach us something about being human. We don’t care what you mean to New York. All we care about is what your story means to us. The greatest form of genius is that which isn’t noticed. We want a hack, and if you deliver the goods, we’ll keep coming back to gather around your campfire again and again.
    And we may even keep the flames roaring with some of those oh-so-smart hardcovers that tried to be the Great American Novel.

    Scott Nicholson— http://www.hauntedcomputer.com
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5. The Freelancer’s Survival Guide: Discipline
    Kristine Kathryn Rusch
    http://www.kristinekathrynrusch.com

    I don’t want to write this post. I have half a dozen reasons—some of them very good—as to why. First, my chronic illness has flared this week, so I’m struggling against my health. Second, Thursday is one of my annual days off, and I usually post the Guide on Thursday. If I were working a regular job, this day off would be on my calendar—and would have been since before I was hired. Third, I am moving my office and it looks like this week is D-Day for the desk, computer, printer, and calendar, the very things I use to write 95 percent of the time.
    Those are the good reasons. Here are the whiney reasons: First, my office cat died two weeks ago. I really don’t like going into my office when she’s not there. Second, I gave up my non-fiction career for a reason twenty-three years ago. I don’t like writing nonfiction. It’s work. Fiction, on the other hand, is fun. Third, I’ve been doing this Guide for a while now and it’s no longer new (or as my husband would say, it’s not bright and shiny), so it’s become a chore—something with a deadline that must be met, instead of something I look forward to doing.
    I might admit the whiney reasons to friends. But here are the final reasons, the ones that come up when I’m tired and not feeling well, like today. First, I’d rather be reading. (Honestly, I’d always rather be reading.) Second, I want cake. (That’s Thursday.) Third, I want to watch the news. And get e-mail. And go on Twitter. And surf the net. And, and, and. . . .
    I don’t want to be sitting in my empty office, groggy from a nap that only left me feeling marginally better, writing part of a book that isn’t under contract and might never be.
    So why am I here?
    Because I anticipated this day. Seriously. I knew this day was coming. And I planned for it.
    Here’s why I’m sitting in my empty office, groggy from a nap that left me feeling only marginally better, writing part of a book that isn’t under contract.
    You.
    I have met my deadline on the Freelancer’s Guide every week since April second. I post, you make comments and e-mail me. Some of you have donated to the Guide, and some of you have subscribed, so I have a very real obligation to hit the mark, week after week, until this project is done.
    That’s the main reason. In fact, that’s the only reason I’m here this week.
    That reason negates all the complaints I had in the first paragraph.
    But the complaints in the second—the ones I call the whiney reasons—have come up before. And despite the fact that two of them sound project-specific, they’re not. They come up, with different rationales, with every single project I work on.
    I would always rather start a new project than work through the middle of another project. And the Freelancer’s Guide is in the muddy middle. How far into the middle, I can’t tell you. I can never estimate easily how much material I have left.
    And honestly, some of that depends on you. The questions are getting fewer and farther between. Either I’m answering them or you haven’t thought of them yet. But the more questions I get, the longer the Guide will be.
    Finally, I love beginnings. Not the actual moment of work, which can be hard as I try to figure out how to approach the project, but grooming the idea and