Advances and Passion and Writing. Oh My.

For those who don’t know, I’m working very hard to finish up the second draft of my book. An agent at a respectable house reviewed the first 100 pages, liked it, and asked to see the rest. I told them I would get it out by August 1st. The clock says six days until the end of the month. My characters are all standing on their own. The plot feels inexorable. I’m slugging through pages, and producing what I think-what I hope-is good content. I’m trying to be as honest to my work as I can. I’m almost there. I can see the finish line, but I’m just sucking wind, my lungs are burning, and my legs feel like lead.

I was reading through a post at Blogging Away Debt, and Trish mentioned how important it is to feel passion for your work. I posted the comment:

I hear you about the passion. I’m about to finish my book, after years of effort, and I would like to add one thing: PASSION feels exactly like WORK. People need to know that!

Another reader responded that passion doesn’t feel like work. It was late when I originally posted, I was tired, and I was speaking from my weary heart at that moment. I clarified things with this comment, which I decided was the heart of my blog entry today:

I guess I meant: don’t think that the heady high of passion will keep you going. Passion is great. You should do things that you feel passionate about, but passion is an emotion. After a while, the headiness will fade away, and you have to rely on the fact that you know, on a more intellectual level, that you’re doing something that you’re proud of. At that point, just like any job, it’s nose to the grindstone, get it done to the best of your ability. Everyone is wired a little different, but it is the rare person who is wired such that they feel passionate about every minute of every day. I’m certainly not. Don’t get me wrong, I love my life and wouldn’t trade it for any other… but am I driven by passion every day? Nope. I hope you can sustain that, but it’s not in my neurochemistry. I worry that people who are hardwired with an influx of passion, or those who can fake it, inadvertently deceive others into believing that they have to feel a constant emotional response to their profession of choice.

On a slightly different line of thought: a friend received a 40K advance for a book that will be out in a few months, and the publisher is flying them in and out of New York for meetings. It’s very exciting. They hoped for a larger advance, but this is a first book.

I would be very happy with a 40K advance.

I’m not one to sit and rhapsodize about advances and such, but I’m allowing myself the luxury this afternoon. If I get even half that amount, I would essentially wipe out all my debt. I would be free. Writing my book has always been a labor of love, but I won’t kid anyone—I want to make money off it.

Anyway, I don’t have any grand conclusion. I’m off. Best to all.