What really happens when you quit your job to write...

In August 2019, after a few years of agonising deliberation, I finally exploded and quit my job to spend a year doing nothing but writing. The plan was that with all this deep, solid time I would finish a few manuscripts, upskill, get an agent, get some publisher interest…blah blah blah.

The truth is, I didn’t get an agent. I didn’t get published. I didn’t even finish a manuscript. But I still think of it as a success, and here’s why.

My journey started with a course. I chose Write Mentor’s Magnificent MG Mentoring with Maz Evans, partly because it was miles cheaper than some of the disturbing amounts some demanded, but also because an author work colleague had mentioned Maz’s general amazingness in a conversation a few months previously. I saw it as A Sign. And writers know all about Signs.

The course was, as promised, magnificent. There was an interesting mix of experience in the crit group. From very new writers, to some pretty established people. Some loved what I was doing, some (as I wrote to Maz one week) hated it so much I suspected they wanted to punch it in the face. (Note: I don’t take criticism very well and I may be exaggerating.)

That was my first lesson. Criticism is helpful but confusing. One person’s trash is another’s treasure. Haterz gonna hate, or whatever. If you want to be an author, you have to learn to live in that see-sawing space and not lose your mind.

I walked away with encouraging and constructive feedback from Maz - and a clear directive to just get on with it. Sure. I had quit my job, and so had oodles of time to do it. No problem. I’d probably finish it and then pump out a few more manuscripts for luck.

Not so.

I started going in circles. Changing my mind about the direction I wanted to go in. Doubting myself. I had too much time. I was reading too many ‘how to’ books, giving myself too much time to ponder minor things. It was sending the goofy rabbit that bounces around in my brain in too many directions.

So that was another ‘learn’. If I was ever going to get anything done, and use time effectively, I was going to have to don a pair of writing blinkers every now and again. Ignore everything. Tell Robert McKee to bog off. Tell Lisa Cron to speak to the hand. Tell the inner Jo to SHUT UP - and focus only on getting it done.

I was back on track.

…and then COVID rocked up and time contracted, along with my physical space and my brain. I learned that creativity is not a performing monkey and sometimes it can’t be coaxed out, however many peanuts you throw at it. Sometimes the magic is there, sometimes it’s not. I learned to calm down and let myself off. Life wasn’t always going to be linear and easy, and, like any job, I’d need to be able to navigate this one when things were pear-shaped instead of peachy.

These were definitely not the successes I was looking for, but they were valuable to me, nonetheless. Success was learning more on a practical level about what it would really be like to be an author. Learning that lack of time wasn’t the only barrier to getting published. Learning to value criticism, but also how to take it with a pinch of salt. Learning that crazy stuff can happen, which will make your stupid comedy fantasy book seem pretty pointless for a while.

And I’m kind of cool with that.

Jo E. Verrill is an enthusiastic writer of comedy books for children, SCBWI volunteer and a broadcasting and advertising standards consultant.

Calendar of upcoming events

Success Stories

WriteMentor Summer Programme 2021

Community Learning Hub

Online Courses

WriteMentor Children's Novel
and Picture Book Awards

WriteMentor Magazine Issue 4 is on sale!

Other Opportunities

Final word from...