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Today, Norm Goldman, Publisher & Editor of Bookpleasures.com is pleased to have as our guest, Rob Costelloe, author of Coinage of Commitment.

Good day Rob and thanks for participating in our interview.

Norm: When did your passion for writing begin? What keeps you going?

Rob: I wrote earlier in life, including a teeth-cutting first novel, then I abandoned writing altogether. But I continued to study romantic love as a potential source of fulfillment in people’s lives, and I enjoyed studying love stories in books and films. In 2005 I read an otherwise well written novel whose denouement was so suddenly despairing that I felt outrage on behalf of all the women readers who were disappointed by this disjointed outcome. Within twenty-four hours, I started writing Coinage of Commitment.

Norm: Will you share a little bit about Coinage of Commitment with us?

Rob: Sure. Coinage of Commitment offers a different kind of love story, a drama of characters who love at a higher level than what we see all around us. But this is not portrayed as just a case of spontaneous feelings conquering all. Rather, our lovers develop a hunger and capacity for higher love by reflections and experiences they have before and after meeting. The story gives a glimpse into the unique challenges such a pair would face in striving to reach the zenith they seek. The plot does feature a love triangle, so the novel is actually two love stories that culminate dramatically in a surprise ending.

Norm: How did you get the inspiration for this book? Did you have a hard time fleshing out characters initially?

Rob: The inspiration, or at least the creative energy for the project, was driven by this concept of love at a higher level, one requiring a thinking basis as well as an emotional one. Some nonfiction books that offer advice for improving relationships deal with this issue extensively, but fiction has not risen to exploring love that’s anything higher than merely spontaneous emotions.

You asked about character development and, yes, it was difficult. These are not characters who would ever be mistaken for plain vanilla. The male protagonist had to be recast from the first draft to realistically portray the conflict he experiences before the lovers find union.

Norm: How much real-life did you put into your book? Is there much “you” in there?

Rob: My contribution was that I’ve experienced love at a higher level and for a long enough time that I could define its elements from experience and inject them into a story of lovers who have class, financial, and religious differences to overcome, as well as opposition from both families, before they can reach the destination they seek.

Norm: It is said that if you want to write a good story or novel you need to create struggles of powerful descriptive individuals and not just issues. Through their accomplishments and travail, we very much comprehend the issues. How is this applicable to your book?

Rob: I agree with your premise and that’s why I put a lot of effort into refining and, in some cases, redefining the main characters so that the story would center around them more than the plot elements. At the same time, they need to be believable and appealing to readers who want and deserve to be immersed in characters they can relate to. But as you’ve indicated, it is really the setbacks and challenges the characters must resolve that make them all they can be in a story. Watching them struggle onward, never losing that certain air that we ourselves admire, is what makes them memorable to readers.

Norm: What kind of research did you do to write this book? What are your hopes for this book?

Rob: I had to get acquainted with the Penn and Drexel campuses, where the story is set. In a way, the research was more difficult because the story takes place in the late 1960s, and many of the settings I used no longer exist, or have changed. Cavanaugh’s Restaurant, realistically set in the first chapter near 31st and Market in Philly has since moved. The movie theater used in the Chapter seven date scenes was real, and I used it because it was very popular at the time. But it has since been torn down. Recovering its address was quite an adventure. Little things can be challenging: like researching the legal driving age in California in the early sixties.

You asked about my hopes for the book. In a way, Coinage for me was a labor of love, an attempt to give something back for the life I’ve been blessed with. My hope for the book is that it will sell well, that readers will enjoy it, feel enriched and uplifted by it. So far, reader feedback has exceeded my expectations.

Norm: What motivated you to write a book pertaining to romantic love, and what is your definition of romantic love? How does it differ from other kinds of love?

Rob: Believe it or not, one thing that got me started on this journey was a case of bad science. Sometime during the sixties, a widespread notion got established that romantic love did not exist except as a trivial permutation of the sexual impulse. Instead of being viewed as a unique emotional capability that is obviously separate from the sexual impulse, romantic love was derided as this maudlin quirk of the sexual impulse itself that teenagers experience and then grow out of as they mature and grow up.

I kept reading these articles, by Ph.D.s who should have known better, claiming that romantic love was an illusion, produced as an unfortunate byproduct of sexual chemistry, and that the sooner one got over it the sooner one could settle into an “adult” relationship based on calculated mutual benefit and, of course, sex. Yes, this was a kind of underside of the sexual revolution. I grew alarmed that people were lowering their expectations about what romantic love could provide in their lives because of crackpot science. I also watched it affect our literature, as stories featured more sex and a more watered down, primitive sort of love, one based mainly on impulse and sexual attraction. I started writing, partly to contribute what I could in the way of damage control. It was painful to watch the needless harm that was done to millions of emotional lives. And it took another whole generation for science to finally condescend to legitimizing the same romantic love that flourished in the Middle Ages.

You asked about a definition of romantic love. Well, let’s see. Romantic love is that affection between the sexes that augments and usually stimulates the sexual urge. Often an initial sexual upwelling serves as an emotional attractant, and the couple falls in love. It is more volatile than others kinds of love–such as maternal love–and it has been known to change from adoring affection to murderous hate in a matter of minutes (given the right kind of adulterous news). It can burn brighter than any other kind of love, and often does, but it is hard to maintain. The higher love I write about is an attempt to examine how that brighter state might be enhanced and sustained by intellectual and behavioral means, while also giving readers a good story to enjoy.

Norm: I read where Dr. Helen Fisher, author of Why We Love: The Nature and Chemistry of Romantic Love believes that romantic love is a universal human feeling that produces specific chemicals and networks in the brain. Do you agree with Dr. Fisher?

Rob: I agree, but really…how could romantic love not be a universal human feeling? From literature, we’ve known about it since ancient times. The Bible even has a book of poetry dedicated expressly to it. And on top of that, from the Middle Ages through the nineteenth century, a well developed and very feminine-flavored form of romantic love was a feature of Western culture that distinguished it from all others. The Russians ridiculed it during the cold war; the Japanese adopted it as one of the first things they copied from us after World War II. As far as chemicals and networks in the brain are concerned, I am happy to see this kind of quantitative progress. I am especially happy to see the scientific community catching up to reality and verifying a feature of our basic humanity that many of us have long viewed as indisputable.

Norm: Can you tell us how you found representation for your book? Did you pitch it to an agent, or query publishers who would most likely publish this type of book? Any rejections? Did you self-publish?

Rob: I never did come close to landing an agent. The agencies tend to be hidebound conservative, and I was peddling a love story unlike any other. And it is written in a more emotionally vivid style than is currently fashionable. The sales figures tell me that that works well for readers, but the agencies wouldn’t touch it. I went through five hundred rejections in three months until I came across a group of small royalty publishers who have sprung up in the last five years. They do not accept returns, they provide little in the way of promotional help, and they sell mainly through Internet outlets–although their books are carried by the major distributors. Among this group, I ended up with three contract offers. I went with Saga Books because they offered the best contract, and they thought the book good enough to publish it in three months on a fast track basis.

Norm: How have you used the Internet to boost your writing career?

Rob: Without the Internet, the publisher who produced my book would not exist. Many of the watchdog groups that have sprung up to protect writers from shadier elements of the publishing universe are Internet-based. They helped me greatly, and I offer them my thanks, especially Victoria Strauss of Writer Beware. The Internet has helped create an environment closer to a truly free market festival of ideas and expression than we have ever had.

Norm: Is there anything else you wish to add that we have not covered and what is next for Rob Costelloe?

Rob: I will be writing fulltime starting next month. My next project, another love story, is about one-third drafted and should be ready before mid next year.

Thank you for this opportunity to reach out to my readers. This was my first interview as an author, and you made it fun as well as educational.

Norm: Thanks once again and good luck with all of your future endeavors.

Since every literate person can write, most people think they can be writers. Interestingly enough, we all can speak quite well, but few of us would deem ourselves ‘speakers.’ However, this prevalent belief encourages beginners to say the oddest things that make professional writers want to cringe (or preferably strangle them with a thin wire). If you find yourself saying the following, please stop:

1. “I can write a book in a weekend.”

I’m certain you can mutilate a couple hundred pages with words; however, that doesn’t mean that anyone will want to read them. Yes, I know there are prolific writers who can write a book in two weeks (Voltaire supposedly wrote Candide in three days). Usually they are professionals who have mastered a style and understand the craft of writing. Have you?

2. “I can write those ‘trashy’ books and make tons of money.”

Bwahaha! I love this one.

Many new writers see a 200-page romance or mystery and scoff. These things are so easy, they tell themselves. I can write this in a day. I doubt it, but maybe you can. If you do, will anyone pay you to read it? That is the difference. Those who sell in these genres usually have a passion for the craft that translates onto the page. Hate romance? Think mysteries are ridiculous? Believe sci-fi is for loonies? Then don’t write it, editors and especially readers can tell.

3. “If this crap gets published, I bet I could get a contract in six months.”

Define crap. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Don’t be arrogant and think the world should concede to your every taste (that’s what critics are for). Every writer is not meant for every reader. Just because you don’t like a book doesn’t mean it’s not good. It’s just not good for you. I don’t like okra; however, that doesn’t mean I need to start an anti-okra campaign. Diversity is what makes life interesting.

Okay, okay you’re not talking about taste. You’re talking about horrible, poorly written books. Yes, I know there are some truly bad books out there. Here’s the hard truth. Some bad books (poor grammar, poor structure and poor execution of a plot simpler than a fairy tale) get published. I have plenty of dents in my wall from an effective toss. However, these books are probably ‘placement’ books to fill a hole in a publishing list. Usually, these books sink and their authors are rarely heard from again.

Unfortunately, the existence of these books convinces people that getting their book published should be a breeze. Sure, and every person with a dream to sing will become the next International Idol. Is it fair? No. Do they care? No.

4. “I can write better than that.”

If you can, shut up and write. Nobody wants to hear about it. It’s as annoying as listening to someone explain what they would do if they ruled the world&ndashwell you don’t. Next!

5. “I’d write, if I had more time.”

You’ll never get more time; steal it. That’s what the rest of us do.

6. “I have the perfect book already written in my head.”

Sure, and I have the secrets to the universe taped to the bottom of my shoe. People who say this remind me of the naked emperor walking down the street trying to convince his kingdom that he’s clothed. You’re fooling no one except yourself and you look ridiculous.

Writing is work. Writers make it look effortless because that’s our job (imagine the disappointment you would feel seeing a dancer straining to leap off the ground).

I encourage anyone with a desire and passion to write fiction to do so. Write with meaning; write with truth and skill. Write because you must, not as a path to riches and stardom. It may come; it may not.

The real writers (beginner and pro) don’t talk about it; they do it. Be one of those.

My publishing journey has been unusual enough that friends and publicists alike have suggested I write about it, especially the part about being a man writing love stories in a woman’s genre. But it’s not just the genre. The whole publishing and agency world I encountered was dominated by women. Sound interesting enough? Okay. There’s just one little hitch. Now that I’m sitting in front of the keyboard, I find that there’s not much to tell that’s dramatic. Most of the women editors treated me fairly, and I worked well with the ones who gave me room to turn in.

If anything, being a man may have given me a certain advantage, you know, from a novelty standpoint. Not only was I a male engineer (of all things!), with no detectable writing credentials, daring to show up with a love story, but I was touting it as a love story unlike any other, one written of love at a higher level. Well, at least it made them look up from their keyboards. Even from clear across the Internet’s vast ether, I could feel their skeptical smiles.

I did have advantages related to temperament. Women have always been my epitome of beauty, and I have long admired the feminine spirit and disposition, the nobility of her biological calling, the sophistication of her romantic instinct. As a result, I have always worked well with women. Plus I am grateful. Everything I ever learned about romantic love at a higher level I learned from a woman.

The other advantage I had was acquired: I had studied love stories for decades and I knew the intricacies and jargon of the genre. At one point, an editor who was intrigued by my sample chapters started an e-mail conversation that escalated to a phone discussion. I knew this was curiosity bringing opportunity to my door. She was a Romance novelist as well as a Romance editor, so I was nervous as I dialed her office number. I could tell that she was surprised then delighted to meet a man who could discuss nuances of love story plot and characterization ranging from risk factors in portraying heroines as less than physically perfect, to pet theories for best lead up to denouement. I knew before the conversation was over that she would offer a contract. Not only did I address some reservations she had about my characters, but I had done so in the professional jargon she knew. As a result, she knew she could work with me for the editorial portion of the project.

With all this said, let me offer an opinion based on what I experienced. To the question about whether the bar is higher for a man writing in this genre, I would say yes, at least in a certain sense. If you are a man who writes mediocre romances, then I think it will be harder for you to get published than a mediocre woman writer. But if you are a man producing material that matches the top ten percent of the genre, then the reservations that woman editors naturally have about you won’t matter. You will get the consideration you deserve. Know the audience you are targeting. That counts for a lot. And be sure you can defend the theory you have chosen for how you spun your characters and how you wove your plot.

Authoring as a Risk-Taking Endeavor

Being an unpublished novelist poses all sorts of dilemmas. Writing is entrepreneurial in nature, more than most people realize, and it is fraught with make or break decisions. Which side of the political spectrum do you show yourself? Do you embellish this or that social issue, perhaps the one most fashionable, or do you hide from them all?

If your goal is publication for its own sake, and you’ve decided to write, say, Gothic romance number 214,386, then you do need to follow the Gothic template. But you also need to make it stand out from most of the 214,385 Gothics that came before. The burden to distinguish is higher for unpublished writers because they have no track record to give their work advanced credibility or benefit of the doubt. Yet if the novice distinguishes herself too well, then her originality may be viewed as too risky in itself.

This need to balance risks even extends to things that look simple and straightforward on paper. Take the question of how good your manuscript should be before you query it. The reference books are all unanimous in urging that your manuscript should simply be the best you can make it before submitting it. But it’s not that simple in real life. First off, many amateur writers don’t know how good their writing is relative to their own potential. This is especially true if you are trying to achieve a literary end that’s new or different, say, push a new frontier in poetry, or achieve new levels of fright in horror.

In my own case, in writing Coinage of Commitment, I was bent on writing a love story unlike any other, a mainstream tale of love at a higher level. That made this project so different that even the style I adopted needed to be distinctive, a vivid way of expression that leads readers through the characters’ souls to glimpse romantic love at breathtaking heights. That’s not exactly stock stuff, making it risky to submit and hard to know when it was good enough to send out.

Not realizing what I was getting into, I polished the manuscript as best I could, then sent it out. Two months of querying later, when on a whim I sat down to reread it, I was shocked to discover that it was not the greatest love story ever written, something I suddenly discovered was important for me to achieve. Important enough that I pulled the ms off the market and sent it to not one but two independent editors in series. Three rewrites and seven months later, I resumed the query campaign. But by then, I wondered about the stability of my improvement progress.

Sure enough, despite best intentions, my writing ability kept jumping ahead of itself. I simply couldn’t keep my hands off the ms for wanting to make it better. That meant that the sample chapters I sent out kept changing. Even after the ms was accepted for publication, I could not quench my hunger for better prose. My publisher, Saga Books, in a fit of artistic benevolence, held the presses for the extra weeks it took me to equilibrate at deciding, finally, that I could not improve a single word.

Yes, I realize that this is an unusual account. But it shows that every publishing journey is bound to be unique. So when you read simple instructions like: submit only your best work, don’t be surprised if the path in execution is more tortuous than you ever dreamed it could be.

Today, Norm Goldman, Publisher & Editor of Bookpleasures.com is pleased to have as our guest, Rob Costelloe, author of Coinage of Commitment.

Good day Rob and thanks for participating in our interview.

Norm: When did your passion for writing begin? What keeps you going?

Rob: I wrote earlier in life, including a teeth-cutting first novel, then I abandoned writing altogether. But I continued to study romantic love as a potential source of fulfillment in people’s lives, and I enjoyed studying love stories in books and films. In 2005 I read an otherwise well written novel whose denouement was so suddenly despairing that I felt outrage on behalf of all the women readers who were disappointed by this disjointed outcome. Within twenty-four hours, I started writing Coinage of Commitment.

Norm: Will you share a little bit about Coinage of Commitment with us?

Rob: Sure. Coinage of Commitment offers a different kind of love story, a drama of characters who love at a higher level than what we see all around us. But this is not portrayed as just a case of spontaneous feelings conquering all. Rather, our lovers develop a hunger and capacity for higher love by reflections and experiences they have before and after meeting. The story gives a glimpse into the unique challenges such a pair would face in striving to reach the zenith they seek. The plot does feature a love triangle, so the novel is actually two love stories that culminate dramatically in a surprise ending.

Norm: How did you get the inspiration for this book? Did you have a hard time fleshing out characters initially?

Rob: The inspiration, or at least the creative energy for the project, was driven by this concept of love at a higher level, one requiring a thinking basis as well as an emotional one. Some nonfiction books that offer advice for improving relationships deal with this issue extensively, but fiction has not risen to exploring love that’s anything higher than merely spontaneous emotions.

You asked about character development and, yes, it was difficult. These are not characters who would ever be mistaken for plain vanilla. The male protagonist had to be recast from the first draft to realistically portray the conflict he experiences before the lovers find union.

Norm: How much real-life did you put into your book? Is there much “you” in there?

Rob: My contribution was that I’ve experienced love at a higher level and for a long enough time that I could define its elements from experience and inject them into a story of lovers who have class, financial, and religious differences to overcome, as well as opposition from both families, before they can reach the destination they seek.

Norm: It is said that if you want to write a good story or novel you need to create struggles of powerful descriptive individuals and not just issues. Through their accomplishments and travail, we very much comprehend the issues. How is this applicable to your book?

Rob: I agree with your premise and that’s why I put a lot of effort into refining and, in some cases, redefining the main characters so that the story would center around them more than the plot elements. At the same time, they need to be believable and appealing to readers who want and deserve to be immersed in characters they can relate to. But as you’ve indicated, it is really the setbacks and challenges the characters must resolve that make them all they can be in a story. Watching them struggle onward, never losing that certain air that we ourselves admire, is what makes them memorable to readers.

Norm: What kind of research did you do to write this book? What are your hopes for this book?

Rob: I had to get acquainted with the Penn and Drexel campuses, where the story is set. In a way, the research was more difficult because the story takes place in the late 1960s, and many of the settings I used no longer exist, or have changed. Cavanaugh’s Restaurant, realistically set in the first chapter near 31st and Market in Philly has since moved. The movie theater used in the Chapter seven date scenes was real, and I used it because it was very popular at the time. But it has since been torn down. Recovering its address was quite an adventure. Little things can be challenging: like researching the legal driving age in California in the early sixties.

You asked about my hopes for the book. In a way, Coinage for me was a labor of love, an attempt to give something back for the life I’ve been blessed with. My hope for the book is that it will sell well, that readers will enjoy it, feel enriched and uplifted by it. So far, reader feedback has exceeded my expectations.

Norm: What motivated you to write a book pertaining to romantic love, and what is your definition of romantic love? How does it differ from other kinds of love?

Rob: Believe it or not, one thing that got me started on this journey was a case of bad science. Sometime during the sixties, a widespread notion got established that romantic love did not exist except as a trivial permutation of the sexual impulse. Instead of being viewed as a unique emotional capability that is obviously separate from the sexual impulse, romantic love was derided as this maudlin quirk of the sexual impulse itself that teenagers experience and then grow out of as they mature and grow up.

I kept reading these articles, by Ph.D.s who should have known better, claiming that romantic love was an illusion, produced as an unfortunate byproduct of sexual chemistry, and that the sooner one got over it the sooner one could settle into an “adult” relationship based on calculated mutual benefit and, of course, sex. Yes, this was a kind of underside of the sexual revolution. I grew alarmed that people were lowering their expectations about what romantic love could provide in their lives because of crackpot science. I also watched it affect our literature, as stories featured more sex and a more watered down, primitive sort of love, one based mainly on impulse and sexual attraction. I started writing, partly to contribute what I could in the way of damage control. It was painful to watch the needless harm that was done to millions of emotional lives. And it took another whole generation for science to finally condescend to legitimizing the same romantic love that flourished in the Middle Ages.

You asked about a definition of romantic love. Well, let’s see. Romantic love is that affection between the sexes that augments and usually stimulates the sexual urge. Often an initial sexual upwelling serves as an emotional attractant, and the couple falls in love. It is more volatile than others kinds of love–such as maternal love–and it has been known to change from adoring affection to murderous hate in a matter of minutes (given the right kind of adulterous news). It can burn brighter than any other kind of love, and often does, but it is hard to maintain. The higher love I write about is an attempt to examine how that brighter state might be enhanced and sustained by intellectual and behavioral means, while also giving readers a good story to enjoy.

Norm: I read where Dr. Helen Fisher, author of Why We Love: The Nature and Chemistry of Romantic Love believes that romantic love is a universal human feeling that produces specific chemicals and networks in the brain. Do you agree with Dr. Fisher?

Rob: I agree, but really…how could romantic love not be a universal human feeling? From literature, we’ve known about it since ancient times. The Bible even has a book of poetry dedicated expressly to it. And on top of that, from the Middle Ages through the nineteenth century, a well developed and very feminine-flavored form of romantic love was a feature of Western culture that distinguished it from all others. The Russians ridiculed it during the cold war; the Japanese adopted it as one of the first things they copied from us after World War II. As far as chemicals and networks in the brain are concerned, I am happy to see this kind of quantitative progress. I am especially happy to see the scientific community catching up to reality and verifying a feature of our basic humanity that many of us have long viewed as indisputable.

Norm: Can you tell us how you found representation for your book? Did you pitch it to an agent, or query publishers who would most likely publish this type of book? Any rejections? Did you self-publish?

Rob: I never did come close to landing an agent. The agencies tend to be hidebound conservative, and I was peddling a love story unlike any other. And it is written in a more emotionally vivid style than is currently fashionable. The sales figures tell me that that works well for readers, but the agencies wouldn’t touch it. I went through five hundred rejections in three months until I came across a group of small royalty publishers who have sprung up in the last five years. They do not accept returns, they provide little in the way of promotional help, and they sell mainly through Internet outlets–although their books are carried by the major distributors. Among this group, I ended up with three contract offers. I went with Saga Books because they offered the best contract, and they thought the book good enough to publish it in three months on a fast track basis.

Norm: How have you used the Internet to boost your writing career?

Rob: Without the Internet, the publisher who produced my book would not exist. Many of the watchdog groups that have sprung up to protect writers from shadier elements of the publishing universe are Internet-based. They helped me greatly, and I offer them my thanks, especially Victoria Strauss of Writer Beware. The Internet has helped create an environment closer to a truly free market festival of ideas and expression than we have ever had.

Norm: Is there anything else you wish to add that we have not covered and what is next for Rob Costelloe?

Rob: I will be writing fulltime starting next month. My next project, another love story, is about one-third drafted and should be ready before mid next year.

Thank you for this opportunity to reach out to my readers. This was my first interview as an author, and you made it fun as well as educational.

Norm: Thanks once again and good luck with all of your future endeavors.

Since every literate person can write, most people think they can be writers. Interestingly enough, we all can speak quite well, but few of us would deem ourselves ‘speakers.’ However, this prevalent belief encourages beginners to say the oddest things that make professional writers want to cringe (or preferably strangle them with a thin wire). If you find yourself saying the following, please stop:

1. “I can write a book in a weekend.”

I’m certain you can mutilate a couple hundred pages with words; however, that doesn’t mean that anyone will want to read them. Yes, I know there are prolific writers who can write a book in two weeks (Voltaire supposedly wrote Candide in three days). Usually they are professionals who have mastered a style and understand the craft of writing. Have you?

2. “I can write those ‘trashy’ books and make tons of money.”

Bwahaha! I love this one.

Many new writers see a 200-page romance or mystery and scoff. These things are so easy, they tell themselves. I can write this in a day. I doubt it, but maybe you can. If you do, will anyone pay you to read it? That is the difference. Those who sell in these genres usually have a passion for the craft that translates onto the page. Hate romance? Think mysteries are ridiculous? Believe sci-fi is for loonies? Then don’t write it, editors and especially readers can tell.

3. “If this crap gets published, I bet I could get a contract in six months.”

Define crap. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Don’t be arrogant and think the world should concede to your every taste (that’s what critics are for). Every writer is not meant for every reader. Just because you don’t like a book doesn’t mean it’s not good. It’s just not good for you. I don’t like okra; however, that doesn’t mean I need to start an anti-okra campaign. Diversity is what makes life interesting.

Okay, okay you’re not talking about taste. You’re talking about horrible, poorly written books. Yes, I know there are some truly bad books out there. Here’s the hard truth. Some bad books (poor grammar, poor structure and poor execution of a plot simpler than a fairy tale) get published. I have plenty of dents in my wall from an effective toss. However, these books are probably ‘placement’ books to fill a hole in a publishing list. Usually, these books sink and their authors are rarely heard from again.

Unfortunately, the existence of these books convinces people that getting their book published should be a breeze. Sure, and every person with a dream to sing will become the next International Idol. Is it fair? No. Do they care? No.

4. “I can write better than that.”

If you can, shut up and write. Nobody wants to hear about it. It’s as annoying as listening to someone explain what they would do if they ruled the world&ndashwell you don’t. Next!

5. “I’d write, if I had more time.”

You’ll never get more time; steal it. That’s what the rest of us do.

6. “I have the perfect book already written in my head.”

Sure, and I have the secrets to the universe taped to the bottom of my shoe. People who say this remind me of the naked emperor walking down the street trying to convince his kingdom that he’s clothed. You’re fooling no one except yourself and you look ridiculous.

Writing is work. Writers make it look effortless because that’s our job (imagine the disappointment you would feel seeing a dancer straining to leap off the ground).

I encourage anyone with a desire and passion to write fiction to do so. Write with meaning; write with truth and skill. Write because you must, not as a path to riches and stardom. It may come; it may not.

The real writers (beginner and pro) don’t talk about it; they do it. Be one of those.