The language of this question is a bit startling, but I’ll answer it per my interpretation. I’m a third-career writer. I didn’t make literary writing a focus until after long careers in other areas, and I know what it took to accomplish success in each. I don’t have another 25 years to learn how to write or wander for a topic. I’m really focused. “The Fourteenth of September†was a story 50 years in development that hadn’t been told and needed to—for the country, for women, and for me, and I wouldn’t let myself work on anything else until it was complete. Now, I have to move faster. I have three other works lined up that I will work on probably out of order as the spirit moves me. I’m interested in specific topics that involve the patterns of my unique, transitional generation and the impact of war through the female line. My next book is an homage to “The Sun Also Rises,†about expats in San Miguel who have come with their last dream, the one that really has to come true. I’m also working on a WWII novel about an American nurse, a German woman who was part of the Lebensborn program, and their daughters, and on a memoir in essays. To finish these are my goal. If I get through them and think of others, it will be frosting, but my dream will be achieved.
As the calling cards to draw attention to your book, they are critical and also enormously difficult. I’m a junkie for incredible titles. Among my favorites are “The Adulterous Woman†by Albert Camus. It’s a wonderful story that has a mind-blowing penultimate scene that makes it all work, but you’re not really sure if what you think you understand is true. It’s the title that clarifies, making it a magnificent literary experience. Check it out. I also think the titles “Starting Out in the Evening†and “Old Joy†are perfection. I don’t need to even tell you what they mean, right?
Because of my title fascination, I was very hard on myself about coming up with my own. A writing instructor suggested September 14th because of the significance of the date in the book from a variety of perspectives. We changed it to “The Fourteenth of September†to eliminate confusion with September 11 (though I liked the resonance given the reference in my book to an important historic event—the birthdate of the #1 in the Vietnam Draft Lottery). I considered it a working title for years and experimented with a huge list of alternatives, but each just reinforced the appropriateness of the one I already had. Finally, my publisher referred to it as an extremely strong title and that sealed it for me. I still wished it was more poetic, but I’m doing that for the title of my second book (to be revealed at the right time).
The cover was difficult, and I took the advice of very successful writers to “fight for it.†In the end, the illustration of daisies out of a rifle is an iconic antiwar image of the time frame of the novel that also exemplifies that the book is a distinctive “woman’s story†of Vietnam: impact not combat, feminine but firm. It’s won a number of awards.
I have to confess that I wrote "The Fourteenth of September" in the most difficult, laborious way possible. I originally envisioned it as a collection of linked stories only to discover in a workshop it was actually a novel. However, the scenes I’d drafted were at the end of the story. I had to work all the way back to what would be the right beginning. It took many years, and overtime as I became a better writer there was a lot of legacy writing that had to be eliminated. It took forever.
For my second book, I’ve put together a 90-page plot plan that, though I’m sure will change, has allowed me to think through at least a general “strategy†for the key story events and how they should all unfold. It’s enabling me to work out many problems in advance. I was taught this by Jacquelyn Mitchard, author of “The Deep End of the Ocean.†So far, so good. I anticipate this novel taking no longer than a single year to complete. You can check with me then to see if I made it.
I do think the most important thing is to start with a distinctive, compelling story that you just have to tell. Many books are derivative. And writing is hard. If the story isn’t something that drives you, it will be difficult to finish, easy to compromise.
For a story to work you need the essentials: an original plot that presents intriguing situations; characters that are complex yet relatable; pacing that will propel the reader through the story; and language that is precise, appropriate to the story and characters, and—hopefully—wonderful and surprising.
The implementation will be different for each writer. For example, though all things must be in balance, I’m a fan of great dialogue. It’s also something I do well because it’s my interest.
Writing has always been my avocation. My earliest memories are of what I called “daydreaming,†where I would spin the stories I’d read or seen on television to include a “part†that was for a little girl of whatever age I happened to be. I didn’t write these down. Once in high school, with more formal English classes, I excelled in writing mysteries based upon what I was studying at the time. For example, I wrote an elaborate story of a descendant of Lord Cornwallis who uncovered an undelivered written order that would have changed the outcome of the Battle of Yorktown and thereby the entire Revolutionary War. I also wrote a pastiche of “The Tell-Tale Heart,†where the murderer was undone by the reflection of lamplight in the eyes of a cat. Oddly, I never even considered mysteries after this. And I don’t read them. I think I was trying to be provocative to my school audience.
I studied English and went into a writing profession (public relations) where I told the stories of others for many years. Once I sold my agency, I began the story that ultimately became The Fourteenth of September. It had germinated since college, but the actual writing took thirteen years because I started a consulting business at the same time that I started the novel, thinking both pursuits would be part-time. Untrue. Clients always win. So now I’m a full-time writer, but only for the past two years.
