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by Pamela Mingle
To quote the “smug marrieds” from Bridget
Jones’sDiary, “Tick-tock, tick-tock.” For
those of us who are 50 and older, every second counts in our quest
to be published. While plenty of obstacles exist, dwelling on them
can be discouraging to the point of paralysis. Instead, a clear
focus on the unique strengths we bring to the task has the opposite
effect and will push us farther toward our goal.
We’ve all heard the horror stories. Swamped editors whose
desks are piled high with unread manuscripts. The slow turnaround
time in publishing looms as a nearly insurmountable barrier for an
older writer. A response to a query can take three to six months;
to a partial, six months and beyond.
Many of these same editors are young enough to be our sons and daughters.
And to depress us further, they talk of finding new, young writers,
writers with whom they can work over an extended period of time in
a joint effort of career building. What about us, your elders?! we
shout silently.
The June 2002 issue of Children’s Book Insider features
an interview with Tracy Gates and Ron Woods. Gates, now an executive
editor with Viking Children’s Books, corresponded with Woods
for 12 years regarding his book, The Hero,
published in 2002. Based on Gates’ suggestions, Woods strove
to tighten and enrich his story. While the number of years involved
in this correspondence speaks to their degree of perseverance and
dedication, it makes many of us cringe. Twelve years could be the
lifetime of writing we have left.
However, age is an asset we should not ignore. Many writers published
their first books as seniors. Laura Ingalls Wilder was 65 when LittleHouse
in the Big Woods saw the light of day, Karen Cushman,
51, when Catherine, Called Birdy was
released. In adult publishing, Harriet Doerr wrote Stones
for Ibarra, a National Book Award winner, at age 73,
and Rachel Carson penned Silent Spring at
69.
Age brings many advantages with it. Ceil Boyles, 2005 first-place
winner in the Young Adult category of the Paul Gillette Memorial
Writing Contest, says, “The nice part about starting to write
at the end of a career is that you have the time and funds to write,
and many experiences to incorporate into your writing.”
For a good number of us, writing is a second career. We’ve
retired and now have control over our schedules. Instead of meeting
the exigencies of the workplace, our personal goals become a priority.
No longer must we squeeze in a few paragraphs at 5:00 in the morning
or 10:00 at night. Now, we can choose the time of day most in tune
with our creativity.
Our children are adults, and instead of our nurturing them, they
can nurture us by acting as our first readers. The blessing of grandchildren
carries with it the added benefit of studying the subjects of our
books up close and personal. If we’re not parents, it’s
likely that we have nieces and nephews with whom we have close relationships.
In my experience, family members and friends provide a personal cheering
section, helping me through the darkest hours of rejection.
Perhaps our greatest strength is our depth of life experience. We’ve
been around the block a time or two. Wisdom gained from life’s
ups and downs is invaluable to our stories. Donald Maass, in his
workshop at this year’s Pikes Peak Writer’s Conference,
began most of his writing exercises starting with the phrase, “Think
of a time when you were the most surprised (or afraid, angry, hopeful,
sorrowful). Find the details of your life and put them in your story.” Surely,
we have more details because we’ve lived longer. We should
be rich, even wealthy, with details.
In his book, A Sense of the Mysterious,
Alan Lightman, both a scientist and a novelist, states …”the
arts and humanities require experience with life and the awkward
contradictions of people, experience that accumulates and deepens
with age.” Now is our time to draw on that deep well of experience
for our stories.
Last, each of us possesses that overwhelming need to tell a story.
It springs from the memory of books in our youth that we stayed up
half the night to read, that touched us in some inexpressible way,
and those that move us as adults. The ripple in the stomach, the
visceral punch when we recognize the universal, human qualities in
the best storytelling, qualities that fill our eyes with tears, double
us over with laughter, or push us toward deep thought or analysis.
Our dream is to tell those stories and share them with young people.
Nancy Oswald’s historical novel, Nothing Here
ButStones, was published by Henry Holt
in 2004. She believes that the dream of seeing this story come
to fruition was what kept her going. She chipped away at it little
by little, and so can we.
Focus on the powerful attributes we possess as members of the 50-and-up
age bracket: an abundance of time, settled families, and depth of
experience. And, remember why we embarked on this often frustrating
adventure in the first place--to touch the life of a child through
our stories.
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