Writing Advice: It’s Not Black & White

Black and white thinking: I’m prone to it. 

Anyone else out there with me? 

I love me some rules. They make me feel safe—like guardrails on a winding mountain road. 

I’d like to think that most things in this world can be accomplished through some form of straightforward rule or “best practice” and that if I just follow it to a T, I’ll make it to the finish line. But you know what I’m learning? Particularly in the world of writing . . . the advice you get is just not always true. 

A better way to say it might be: Take all writing advice with a grain of salt. 

The past two years in particular, I’ve been consuming more content from “experts” online than ever before. Podcasts, blog posts, online membership communities, conferences, you name it, I’ve been a part of it searching for those black and white rules that would take me on a rocketship toward publication. 

I figured, if I can just follow their advice—they’ve been in the trenches after all—and do everything exactly as they say, I too can write and publish a book like they have. 

Well, as it turns out, most advice just isn’t that fool-proof. 

For example . . . 

One of the most popular pieces of advice I’d hear (especially from editors) was to watch your adverbs. According to them, there was nothing worse you could do in your book than include those dreaded, fanciful words. In fact, having adverbs sprinkled throughout your manuscript was instant proof to an agent or editor that you were an ameutuer at best and a lazy writer at worst. And who wants to work with one of those? 

I heard that over and over and over again and yet every time I opened another beautiful novel, I’d find adverb after adverb after adverb. 

I’ll never forget sitting at the Nashville airport and opening a fresh novel I’d purchased specifically for this beach trip only to notice several adverbs on the very first page. Oh, did I forget to mention this book was an instant New York Times bestseller and named a “must-read” by several publications? 

Was this author ameuter or lazy? And what self-respecting editor let these adverbs get past their desk?! 

Another piece of advice I heard repeatedly was not to rush your manuscript. And while I completely agree with the heart behind that advice—you shouldn’t rush something that will hopefully outlive you—it was always hard to determine what “rushing” meant for that person compared to me. 

Had I “rushed” through my manuscript because I finished the first draft in five months? Had I “rushed” the revision stage because I shipped my manuscript to agents and editors only three months after I finished my rough draft? Had I “rushed” the entire process because I didn’t spend years working on it? 

Everytime I heard another author say they spent two, three, even five years working on their manuscript before they showed it to an agent, I’d immediately feel flooded with self-doubt that I must have rushed the process and my manuscript must be sub-par because of it. 

Thankfully, my husband called those thoughts hogwash. “Just because someone else spends five years doing something, doesn’t mean you have to,” he’d tell me. God bless him.

Along the same lines, I can’t tell you how many times I listened to someone in the industry (even agents and editors themselves) urge writers to only send/pitch their “very best work.” 

“Don’t send it [to an agent or an editor] until you’re absolutely sure it’s ready and you’ve checked it for typos and grammatical errors several times. Most people won’t give you a second chance, so you’ve only got one shot to impress them.” 

Okay, yes, part of this advice is true—to an extent. You should absolutely feel confident about the work you’re sending in—this is not the time to “mail it in.” And no doubt you should check (and get a second pair of eyes on) for any embarrassing typos. But there comes a point when you just can’t look at your manuscript or your query letter anymore and you just have to send it in. Otherwise, you will agonize over every period and every word choice until you’re so discouraged you decide to not send it in at all. 

Also . . . most people won’t give you a second chance? Really? I just don’t think most people are that unreasonable, especially if what you originally send in has potential. 

I had one editor offer to re-read my manuscript twice after she recommended ways to make it stronger. Maybe she’s simply the most generous editor on the planet . . . or maybe people are more understanding and kind than we give them credit for. 

Listen, I’m not here to tell you to throw everything you’ve ever learned out the window and just fly by the seat of your pants. That’s not how I like to do things at all. 

What I’m here to tell you is to take advice with a grain of salt. Every writer’s journey is going to look vastly different—like vastly different. 

Some writers will get 40 rejections from agents before they get a yes. 

Some writers will win publishing deals in competitions while others wait years to be published the “traditional route.” 

Some writer’s will never get published and some will get five-book deals right off the bat. 

Some will land an agent and never get a book deal while others will land book deals without ever having an agent. 

Some will have great success with self-publishing while others find a nice middle ground with a hybrid model.

Friends, no matter what you write or how long you’ve been writing, your journey will not look like mine, just like my journey will not look like yours. And you know what that means? I can’t tell you exactly what to do. I can’t tell you—with full confidence—what will work in this world of writing and publishing and what won’t work . . . and I’d go so far as to say that anyone who tells you they can is lying to you. 

In this kind of world, advice is not black and white. 

Don’t let someone else’s experience dictate what yours looks like. Seek out advice. It’s helpful and will usually have a lot of truth in it. But at the same time, don’t allow the advice to become gospel truth for you because guess what? Big things might happen for you in completely unexpected, nontraditional ways . . . 

Trust your gut and stay the course . . . you’ll get there one way or another.