Training Wheels
An agent mentioned today that while she would like to see a few chapters of my manuscript, she advised me not to get my hopes up. She explained that a writer's first novel often serves merely as "training wheels," and that true mastery of the craft usually isn't achieved until the fourth book or so.
"I would like to see the first chapters and a synopsis of your book, because the concept is intriguing, but please know that first novels rarely are at the level required for publication."
This was the honest, sobering warning an agent gave me earlier today—a reminder of the steep climb ahead for any debut author.
She called the first few books of any writer, "Training Wheels."
I appreciated the honesty, and I will send my chapters, synopsis and bio promptly and in the exact format requested anyway, and try not to get my hopes up.
I know a few things about my writing.
I write pretty well.
I could write better.
I recognize that for the manuscripts I have already drafted or revised, my writing is already at an adequate level, if not better.
But there's a high-concept story I want to tell but don't have the skills yet.
I know this because when I tell myself the story, it makes me feel a certain way.
When I write it, the feeling doesn't match.
So I'll keep trying, and keep improving book after book, story after story, until my skills match the story.
And until then, I will enjoy the training wheels.
Embracing the training wheels is part of the journey; just because you haven't mastered balancing on your own yet doesn't mean the ride isn't enjoyable.
Ask any toddler proudly pedaling down the street on a summer day. There's joy in the process. Keep pedaling, because consistent practice is the only way to reach two-wheeling proficiency.