15 Years, 12 Books, and 25 Years of Teaching

What I’ve learned writing, publishing, and coaching

Photo by Leah Newhouse

This past June was the 15th anniversary of the release of my first published book, Accidental Lessons: The Memoir of a Rookie Teacher and Life Renewed. (Strategic Publishing, 2009) Was it really that long ago? At times, the birth of that book seems an ancient memory and at other times it feels like it was just yesterday that I held the first copy in my hand.

I worked with an agent back then, but it was eventually my own efforts that sealed the deal with the publisher. Not to diminish agents, of course. The right ones can get you through doors you could never do on your own. We had some “big” publishers interested. But as you quickly learn, a publisher’s decision on taking your project or not, many times, has more to do with sales and marketing than your writing. Oh, sure, you better write a good sentence, in fact, you better write many, but publishing, in the end, is a business, not an art. One learns that lesson early on.

And there are other lessons learned. Some through time spent, some through trial and error, some by mistakes made, and some with the help and support of others. So, after more than a decade of writing, publishing, and more than two-decades of teaching creative writing, documentary, and journalism, I thought maybe a bit of my own self-assessment could benefit Writer Shed readers, too.

Some of these you’ve heard before in some fashion or another but need to be repeated. Others may be new to you.

• Write regularly. (You’ve heard this many times) That could be every day, but it doesn’t have to be. Find a pattern, a discipline to the work. Patterns and routines lead to finished stories. Discover your pattern. It’s a crucial element to simply getting the story down on paper. There is no secret here. Sit down and write. Then do it again, and again. Stop finding excuses.
• Almost anything can be shortened, and probably should be. Keep it simple. Succinct. Less is more. This creates readable narratives. There’s a time for that 100-word sentence. But it’s rare. This is not to say that you should edit the life out of your prose. It just means that many times the most powerful paragraph is the shortest.
• Fear and lack of discipline are what stop most potential writers. Most people don’t write because they don’t think their story is worth it. It is. There are no bad stories, as the journalism adage goes, only stories poorly told. Tell yours. But stop the dodging. There is always time. You must simply make it. Get up earlier. Go to bed later. The time is there. Seize it.
• Be patient. Publishing houses work slowly. When you submit work, try to forget about it. You’ll know when you know. Don’t waste time waiting. Spend your time writing and reading.
• Find a good editor, maybe even more than one. Beta readers and the like. Do not proofread your own work before making submissions. (I’m horrible that this. If you see a typo in this post, forgive me.) You need eyeballs, not just your own, on your work to clearly see the content, narrative flow, and that errant comma.
• Read. Read, Read. All good writers are voracious readers.
• Writer’s block is not a thing. It’s an excuse. Do not wait for inspiration or “the muse.” Get to work. Grit it out. It will pay off.
• Don’t have an idea of what to write about? Just write, anyway. Write anything that comes into your head. Maybe it’s absurd. Weird. Incoherent. But in there, somewhere, and through the actual process, something will reveal itself. Promise.
• Fall in love with good verbs. Not adverbs.
• Be honest. Whether it’s memoir or fiction, write the truth.
• Write in scenes.
• Use your senses. All of them.
• The first draft is crap. The second is most likely more crap. It’s the editing — the over and over and over editing — that brings a story to life.
• Submit. Send your work out into the world. Online journals. Publishing houses. Literary magazines. Get it in the best shape you can, and then let it fly. Do this a lot. Do it often.
• Journaling is wonderful. It stretches the writing muscles. But if you don’t do it regularly, don’t sweat it. There are many ways to journal, keeping your thoughts and ideas together. Do it as a routine but make it 100% yours.
• Be careful of writing conferences. They can be wonderful for networking, but not every workshop is for you, your writing, your approach, or your style. They’re like the internet. There’s a lot of good information to be found there. But there’s also bad information, including tips and ideas that are not for every writer. Pick and choose. Be selective. Spend your time writing, not attending all those conferences. Same with writing “retreats.”
• An MFA in Creative Writing is a wonderful thing. But it’s not for everyone. And it is certainly not necessary to write well. Again, like the conferences, take from a MFA what best works for you and leave the rest behind. (If you’re going to teach at the university level, yes, that MFA might be essential, but remember it is only academia feeding on itself.)
• You don’t need an agent, but it helps. There are plenty of places to submit work without an agent. But it’s true, a good agent can get your work in front of people who you would never be able to. Submit to agents, but don’t think it’s the only way to get your work to readers.
• Live creatively. Pay attention. Be aware. Listen to music. Play music. Write poetry. (Even if you think you are terrible at it.) Paint, sculpt, color. It’s all the same. Living creatively embodies a lifestyle, a way of seeing the world. Be part of it.
• Walk, Live in nature. Don’t bring your phone. There are endless examples of great writers who also have been avid walkers. “Pursue some path, however narrow and crooked, in which you can walk with love and reverence.” — Henry David Thoreau.

David W. Berner is the author of several award-winning novels and memoir. He is a writing teacher and coach for Gotham Writers and regularly conducts writing workshops.His newest book, Daylight Saving Time is now available for pre-order.