Six Things Every Writer Needs to Succeed (Psst: MFA is not on this list.)

By Mike Swift  |  January 8, 2015  | 

Mike socks

Mike credits his whimsy to the magical powers of his rainbow socks, hand-knitted by blind leprechauns from the manes of free-range unicorns.

Therese here to introduce you to today’s guest, M.L. Swift. Mike has been a follower of Writer Unboxed for quite some time, but it wasn’t until I heard him read his fiction at the Un-Conference — work he’d produced just that day — that I realized he’s also a powerhouse writer. What a unique way with words he has, what a clear voice, and what a quick mind with its quirky and spot-on sense of humor. Of course I wanted you to get to know him a little better.

In his own words:

M.L. is a lover of words who squanders away his afternoons arranging them into sentences which, when combined, resemble fiction. A caregiver for over ten years, he has written several articles for The Alzheimer’s Reading Room, and plans a novel on his experience. He lives in the Florida panhandle with his two dogs, Rameses and Buster, and spends his nights fighting a losing battle to reclaim his side of the bed.

Follow him on Twitter, Facebook, and Google+, and learn more about him on his website.

And now for the main attraction…

Six Things Every Writer Needs to Succeed 

When Therese asked if I’d like to scratch out an article for Writer Unboxed, I literally — in the most figurative sense of the word — stood up, turned around, and knocked the gold bricks out of my chair. Did I read her note correctly? Would I like to write an essay for the website I’ve worshipped for over three years, and — e’en if for a day, ere I’m shown the door fore’er — dispense Parker-esque aphorisms to the most respected minds in the industry, while at the same time, make a complete and utter fool of myself? Would I? Would I? I pounced on the keyboard: “Does a bear sh—?” Wait. Breathe. Backspace and delete. Respond as if it were as commonplace as “You want fries with that?”

“Why, yes, Therese, that would be lovely.” There you go. Classy. Mature. Professional. Kiss, kiss; hug, hug. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

By dinnertime, my euphoric ride on the Cumulonimbus9 had ended with a belly-flop to earth, leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere, dusting off rainbows and gnawing my thumbnail like a piece of beef jerky. “Mike, what in the world were you thinking?” Actually, if you really want to get down and velveteen about it, I used a much more colorful, less Hogwarts-friendly expression.

You see, that very morning, Sharon Bially had written a post listing six criteria for an impressive writer’s resumé, and according to the stats, I was batting zero. Even worse, I didn’t foresee three of the six items making my five-, ten-, or twenty-year plan. Her suggestions, in order of my probable attainment (from “most likely” to “you’ve got to be kidding”) included:

  • Submitting your work for prizes.
  • Publishing short stories in literary magazines.
  • Seeking blurbs and endorsements from established authors.
  • Teaching writing at a respected (damn that respected clause!) organization or university.
  • Having a career with a literary organization, like a magazine, agency, non-profit, or publisher.
  • Getting an MFA.

Jiminy Crickets! That’s a far cry from my engineering and architectural background at Virginia Tech. In contrast, my literary experience looked more like this:

  • Summer reading certificates from the neighborhood bookmobile, grades 1-6 (with gold seals, not silver).
  • Founder and Editor of the Altama Elementary School newspaper (The Anaconda), grade 4, asking such questions as: “Do you prefer ‘Macaroni and Cheese,’ or ‘Cheese and Macaroni?’” In the 70’s, this was cutting-edge journalism.
  • Scoring a 730 out of 800 on my verbal SATs.
  • Working on the high school newspaper.
  • Working on the high school yearbook.
  • Getting stoned and writing bad poetry in college, fascinated by the “nge” sound in words like grunge and unhinged. “Grrr-uuu-nnnggge. Unhh-iii-nnnggged.” I’d say them for hours between mouthfuls of chili dogs.
  • This article.

That’s about the extent of my writerly resumé, other than the little stuff from daycare to kindergarten. Oh, yeah, and I’m a team player.

Needless to say, I didn’t comment on Sharon’s post. At the time, I was too intimidated, which, if you know me, isn’t one of my natural states. Who was I to opine with this learned lot of literati? And for a brief moment, the bony finger of self-doubt poked and prodded, trying to probe its way in. Who am I in this highly competitive, MaFiA-ruled world?

I’m Mike Swift, that’s who. Better yet, M.L. Swift, if you want to get all nom de plume about it. I am nobody and I am everybody.

If that sounds brash and a bit arrogant, it isn’t meant as such, and has nothing to do with a sense of entitlement in this new and seemingly open-gated world of publication; I’d feel the same if I were a writer in the nineteenth century. Nor is it meant to diminish the respect I have toward the holders of Fine Arts degrees and established publishing careers. I wish I’d have followed my dreams and pursued my passions rather than the almighty dollar — but as my mama always said, “If wishes were horses, poor men would ride.”

I’m simply of a different belief system: one that places equal value on life experience, and, when combined with a decent education, sets the stage for fantastic storytelling. I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me that. This is a belief I must hold, if I’m to succeed in this business. I also believe that the path which brought me here was the path I needed to tread — complete with every rock of Sisyphus and head of Medusa — to gather the stories I needed to tell.

I believe the six commonalities of good writers — sheepskins and wineskins and Rumplestiltskins aside — are:

  • A desire — nay, a need — to be heard (the brash, arrogant trait, as witnessed above);
  • Something to say (life experience);
  • A way with words that isn’t necessarily teachable (talent? a gift?);
  • A willingness to fall down and pick yourself back up (perseverance);
  • A little luck.
  • And don’t forget hard work. Lots of it.

I could continue with examples of writers who had no formal education, or pursued medicine or law or other professions before claiming their writerly identities, but you could probably go tit-for-tat with writers who studied the craft, and frankly, I didn’t want to do the research (actually, I did, but this article is lengthy enough already).

My closing advice is this: if you’re here, chances are you’re a writer or interested in becoming one, even if you don’t have the credentials. Claim that title. Embrace it now, whether you’re published or not. You write, don’t you? How will anyone else accept you as a writer if you haven’t accepted you as a writer?

Now, in order to become a good writer, look inside and examine your weaknesses. Turn them into strengths. I know, easier said than done, but start by confronting the things that scare you the most. Explore. Dig. Deeper. Deeper.

If you have the time, money, and willingness to pursue formal education, by all means, do it, but if not, find other sources from which to learn. Never be the master; it’ll close your mind. Read, write, and then read and write some more.

Of course, for the moment, all this is merely my convoluted, self-indulgent theory and has yet to be proven by Neil DeGrasse Tyson (or Neil Gaiman, for that matter), but at least it looks good on paper and helps me sleep at night. I’ll keep you posted on my progress. Until then, to the rainbow socks!

What do you think a writer needs to succeed?

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192 Comments

  1. ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 7:30 am

    Wow! Great article! I’m forever changed. Therese, you need to get this guy to write more often.



  2. Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt on January 8, 2015 at 7:56 am

    If you like reading literary fiction, and aspire to write it, then Sharon’s list makes sense.

    But I don’t. I aim to write mainstream contemporary commercial fiction. So my teachers have to be others. WU’s Donald Maass is one of my favorite sources of information and craft.

    The two qualities I think are necessary for what I want to do are persistence, and the ability to see when what I produce doesn’t match the vision in my head. What you just called the ability to look inside and examine your weaknesses. This ‘educated eye’ then evaluates the solutions to craft problems – and produces more output, better output.

    Repeat.

    The secret is that there is a big space in the middle for writers like me, neither genre nor literary, writing what used to be called simply ‘a novel,’ intended for the vast audience of people who read books.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 8:49 am

      Thanks for commenting, Alicia,

      Yes, while Sharon’s article seems tailored for writers with more time and resources on their hands, I’m in the earliest latter stages of middle-age (or maybe “new adolescence,” if I plan to live into my 200’s or get my head cryogenically frozen). I need to spend these years getting rejection letters.

      I have all of the Don’s books and recommend them highly—workbooks, too. I’m always learning, always teachable (just by different means). Like I said in the post, never be the master.

      Thanks again!



  3. Reese Ryan on January 8, 2015 at 8:16 am

    The path to success (a word defined uniquely by each writer) isn’t the same for everyone. As you mentioned, not every writer has the time or means to get an MBA. However, there are a variety of steps each writer can take to improve his or her craft. Desire, perseverance, hard work and a willingness to tap into one’s life experience to produce prose that feels truly authentic–whether fiction or non-fiction–will certainly make any writer more successful in his endeavor.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 9:15 am

      Reese,

      Thanks for reading! You know, you bring up a good point: what is success? Your answer that’s it’s unique to the individual is spot-on.

      For some, I guess it’s boatloads of money. While I certainly don’t object to financial security (or one bestseller after another), it’s not my motivation. Success, for me, is to simply tell my stories and make a difference. Leave the reader with something more than they had before. Examine the frailties of the human condition, convey them to the best of my ability, and hope they resonate. I’m merely here to plant a seed; the harvest can come later, even if I’m not around to see it.



      • Patsy Parker on January 13, 2015 at 10:55 am

        Great article. I agree with what you wrote.

        Yes, what is success? Georgia O’Keeffe, the artist, said,

        “Success doesn’t come with painting one picture. It results from taking a certain definite line of action and staying with it.”

        I think the same principle applies to writing. Keep on writing. Stay with it. Finish, edit, finish again!



        • ML Swift on January 13, 2015 at 4:15 pm

          Yes, what is success? Georgia O’Keeffe, the artist, said,

          “Success doesn’t come with painting one picture. It results from taking a certain definite line of action and staying with it.”

          I think the same principle applies to writing. Keep on writing. Stay with it. Finish, edit, finish again!

          Patsy,

          Thank you for the quote! I loves me some Georgia O’Keefe. And that certain definite line of action and staying with it would be the perseverance. I think this principle applies to all aspects of life and builds good character.

          And I like “Finish, edit, finish again!” It’s never quite done, is it? :)



        • Felicia Fielder on January 23, 2015 at 2:56 pm

          I agree, Patsy!



  4. alex wilson on January 8, 2015 at 8:18 am

    Any encouragement is desired and welcome and you give good encouragement. Appreciated.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 9:20 am

      Alex,

      If nothing else, I’m here to encourage anyone who is, or feels like, the underdog. Thanks for commenting!



  5. Paula Cappa on January 8, 2015 at 8:43 am

    Mike, I like your ‘never be a master, it’ll close your mind.’ We can spend years writing and writing, studying all the craft books, constructing perfect sentences, learning all the literary devices of plot, characterization, suspense and tension, and read analytically, and we can still fumble it. I think one of the essential keys is to understand your own writing process. Understanding the inspiration of a story and how it emerges. Discovering the ‘voice’ of a novel is so mysterious to me. Virginia Woolf said creative power can bring the whole universe to order. Surrendering to the creative power is a real test of faith in yourself.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 9:33 am

      Understanding your own writing process is indeed a key element, Paula. In reading one craft book after another (after another, after another), I’ve found many say the same thing, so I choose teachers to whom I can relate—Don, John Vorhaus (and if you haven’t read any of his craft books, I suggest you do), and Lisa Cron to name a few. I take it all in and use what I need at the time, stashing away all the other nuggets for future inspiration.



  6. Kim Bullock on January 8, 2015 at 8:46 am

    As soon as I saw you were up today, Mike, I set down my coffee because I knew drinking it while reading would lead to seared nostrils. (Wise decision!)

    The rainbow socks alone made my morning. Even better is that I could actually hear your voice as I read your post, which made me laugh that much harder. Your message was spot-on, too. Those six things are absolutely essential.

    An MFA may help serious literary writers, but I confess that the one writing class I took in grad school did me no good at all. It seemed more like a blood sport than anything else, a way to tear others down to make oneself look superior. I hope I just happened to find a bad class.

    By the way, I sat next to Therese at your reading in Salem. A few minutes in we looked at each other and whispered something along the lines of “damn, he’s good!” You read clearly and confidently, and the power of your words made everyone at our table perk up and listen with rapt attention. You don’t need an MFA, my friend. You don’t need a career at a literary magazine. You have VOICE, and that is a quality that can’t be taught.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 9:43 am

      Kim,

      Thanks for the great comment! You know, John Vorhaus wrote about expanding your brand, and after reading your words, I’m thinking about a line of nasal balms for hot nare spewage (in different scents that heal at the same time).

      I love being able to hear the voices of those I met in Salem. Yours is ringing loud in the halls of WU today. Sounds nice.

      And your last paragraph made my day. Thanks. :D To the rainbow socks!



      • Kim Bullock on January 8, 2015 at 9:48 am

        I thought you’d want to know what happened around the room as you read. The ability to command an audience like that is a gift, Mike. You did it again today.



        • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 3:31 pm

          Now you’ve got me blushing. Thanks, Kim. :D



  7. Barry Knister on January 8, 2015 at 8:52 am

    Mike–
    Therese was certainly right to ask you for a guest post. And positioning it to follow what Don Maass gave us yesterday makes perfect sense. He challenged writers to aspire higher, to create work that makes people feel they’ve done something more with the time they spend reading than to just kill it.
    In this regard, I’m with you regarding the trained “professional” novelist, versus one who brings to the table experience from the workaday world (say, a background in engineering and architecture). There is nothing wrong with Sharon Bially’s list for developing “an impressive writer’s resume.” But it makes little or no reference to life outside the world of writing/publishing. It’s essentially the same list agents have handed writers for seventy or eighty years.
    As for your own list, again, I’m with you on everything there–and I applaud you for including talent, “a way with words that isn’t necessarily teachable.” It’s no longer good manners to talk about talent: in our society, we’re encouraged to believe that anyone can do or be whatever she sets her mind to. This idea is inspiring, but it’s also untrue. I would love to have what it takes to understand astro-physics, but that’s not in the cards, or the stars.
    Enough, great post, and thank you!



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 10:02 am

      Barry,

      Thank you for your kind comment. When I saw I was following Don, I had to knock a few more gold bricks out of my chair, but for an entirely different reason. How in the world could I follow him? At times in this biz, I feel like the insolent Holden Caulfield to whom he referred.

      I think Porter had an excellent article on talent over on the Thought Catalog (I could be mistaken). I believe it’s an inherent thing, and comes in varying degrees, as with most things in life (a spectrum, if you will). I don’t know where I fall on that spectrum, but from there, I’ll proceed and make the most of it. Thanks again.



  8. Densie Webb on January 8, 2015 at 8:52 am

    My mama used to say, “If wishes were horses, I’d ride like a king.” Smiles. So enjoyed your post, Mike. Couldn’t have said it better myself. Actually, I couldn’t have said it as well. No MFA to be found on my resume either, though you will find two advances degrees in a science-related field. Absolutely nothing to do with writing popular fiction. But I am in possession of a truckload of perseverance and a pretty good sense of where I stand in the reading and writing rainbow. (Debut novel being released this month as an ebook from a digital-first publisher.) You clearly have “a way with words.” The rest will fall into place, i.e., the spoils of the writing wars will be yours. :-)



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 1:44 pm

      Densie,

      I was talking with Jo Eberhardt, who grew up with “If wishes were horses, poor men would dine.” Of course, she’s ‘Strine, you know. They eat vegemite. ;)

      Perseverance and knowing where you stand are must-haves in this world. A constant weighing and measuring and improving those places found wanting is key.

      Thanks for your comment!



      • Jo Eberhardt on January 8, 2015 at 5:47 pm

        Well, you do the math. Which would you rather eat, horses or vegemite? ;)



        • ML Swift on January 10, 2015 at 8:01 am

          Down here in the South, we eat dirt. Much more appealing than either of those choices. Googling “Paula Deen’s Mudpie” recipe right now, as a matter of fact. Need to get something on the stove for dinner.



  9. Ellen Prager on January 8, 2015 at 9:05 am

    Mike, thanks for the inspiring and insightful piece. For me, coming into writing from a scientific background has produced bouts of doubt and the ever-invasive insecurity. But a confident author at a book event (you know who you are) once told me that coming into writing through a non-traditional route leaves me free to break the rules and potentially be more creative – loved that and took it to heart. While I’ve been fortunate to publish numerous non-fiction books (popular science and children’s), I’m now working on a middle grade fiction series. Second book comes out in May. Perseverance (especially), hard work, fun, commitment, luck, and life experiences have all come into play. The other stuff mentioned as needed for a more literary career, well that is never going to happen!



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 2:31 pm

      Ellen,

      Congrats on your upcoming second novel! And I like that advice, thus my like for the “Unboxed” part of the WU name. I’m always breaking those walls. I appreciate your comment!



  10. Kathryn Mann on January 8, 2015 at 9:17 am

    Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

    I really needed to read your post this morning. I also come up with a zero on the list of items to place on an impressive writer’s resume.

    What happened to writing books?

    And I do wish I had rainbow socks, hand-knitted from the manes of free-range unicorns.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 2:34 pm

      Kathryn,

      So glad to have provided a dose of inspiration today. As for the rainbow socks (which keep the toes quiet toasty)—it took a lot of Lucky Charms box tops! Thanks for speaking up.



  11. Julia Munroe Martin on January 8, 2015 at 9:21 am

    Great post, Mike — and thanks for giving me a laugh this morning. More seriously, I agree writers need this: “start by confronting the things that scare you the most. Explore. Dig. Deeper. Deeper.” This and “going there” are my biggest challenges as a writer.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 2:38 pm

      Julia,

      Glad to make you smile. You know, a lot of that is natural curiosity for me, finding out what makes Mike tick, but a lot of it is taking risks. Just gotta do it. Net-free. What makes it easier for me is Abe Lincoln’s quote about never pleasing all the people all the time. I just jump in the crowd hoping enough people catch me. Thanks for taking a minute and commenting.



  12. John Robin on January 8, 2015 at 9:22 am

    Mike, I enjoy your writing voice, and am glad you’re now on board the writing crew here at WU.

    I’m not a member of the MaFiA either and would have probably shuddered on reading Sharon’s post. While I’ve contemplated going back to university just to get that writing degree, I have far too much education as it is (2 degrees worth, though in the sciences), and plus I found since leaving academia that I’ve been able to grow as a writer unlike ever before. I think writers create their own masters and PhD programs through an informed combination of readings, workshops, mentorships, and, most importantly, application through doing the writing itself. There are many writers with MFA’s who are eating the dust of writers who don’t because the former have theory while the latter have hands-on experience. In this humble writer’s opinion, MFA or no MFA, there’s one key ingredient to success: do the work, whatever it takes. Mastery is a process, not a prerequisite.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 2:44 pm

      Hey John,

      Thanks for the comment! Twice in the caregiving of my mom, I entered the realms of online college, and twice had to pull out due to her needs. Not that I minded in the least, but it got me thinking that perhaps that wasn’t the plan for me. After letting the obsession go (and believe me, it was worse than a Calvin Klein overdose), progress ensued. I had freed my mind, as Morpheus would say.



      • John Robin on January 9, 2015 at 2:50 pm

        It would be awesome to gain the equivalent knowledge acquired from an MFA online, in bite-sized chunks, without breaking me from my editing work and ongoing WIP development. If such a utopia exists, I’d be tempted. But alas, utopias…

        (I think I’ll stick with Writer Unboxed–it’s the next best thing!)



        • ML Swift on January 10, 2015 at 8:05 am

          WU is the one-stop shopping place for all your writerly needs. The “U” stands for Utopia in many circles. ;)



  13. Jason W. LaPier on January 8, 2015 at 9:29 am

    This has to be my favorite WU post of 2015 (so far). Thank you M, and thank you L!

    As a fellow uneducated author, I couldn’t agree more. When I saw Sharon’s list a few weeks back, I too choked on my coffee. No offense to Sharon, it’s a fine article and a dose of reality – but there’s another reality, the one for those of us who didn’t know we were going to be writers until after we got through college and a few non-writer jobs first.

    This is going to sound like tooting my own horn (it is), but I say it to those of us in that writer-as-a-second-career category: I don’t have an MFA, and I landed a book contract. My first release is coming out this May with HarperVoyager, and I’ll be turning 40 in March.

    I 101% agree with the six items in your list, Mike. All of those have served me well, and they can serve all of you too. My only addition would be to augment perseverance with patience.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 2:50 pm

      No, Thank YOU, Jason W. to the LaPier! You’re much too kind.

      Patience…velly wise, glasshoppah (I grew up watching Kung Fu). And congrats on your book contract and debut! Looking forward to seeing your name around. :) Thanks again for your nice words.



  14. Debbie A. McClure on January 8, 2015 at 9:38 am

    Well done, Mike! Shaky nerves and all, I really enjoyed this article. It eloquently pointed out what many of us already know; life experience can and often does serve a useful purpose with our writing. I know, since I didn’t start writing until I approached the age of 50 and was struggling with many internal conflicts and was walking a younger sister through cancer treatments. Nothing like coming face-to-face with mortality to make you realize that time is most definitely finite. Having now traditionally published two fiction novels via a small independent publisher, I’m now going for gold by actively wooing agents/editors/publishers with my query on a third project. I’ve also learned the value of sharing experiences with others through blogging, public speaking, book readings/signings, hell, any way I can. The six commonalities of good writers you’ve listed is bang on, as I also interview other writers from around the globe on another blog, and hear so many of them talk about what they’ve learned from experience about the business and art of writing. One other thing I’d add to your list; a willingness to give back and pay it forward with others. Writers are notoriously generous and open minded about what many other industries would call “competition”. Kudos to you for all you do, and for getting this spot light. :-)



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 2:56 pm

      Debbie,

      Yes, it’s the “time is more finite” motivation that is driving me. My twin sister just went through a bout with breast cancer—doing nicely, thank God—shortly after losing my mom. Quite jarring, and really helps put things into perspective. My life has been eventful, to say the least, and I know there’s a reason for that. Now, to tap into that reservoir. Thanks for commenting!



    • Jo Eberhardt on January 8, 2015 at 5:59 pm

      Debbie, I love what you said about giving back and paying it forward. To me, that’s one of the best things about being involved in any writing community — and particularly with WU. I’ve always found such great support and encouragement here, as well as a few mentors (some of whom are the secret-mentor type — I stalk them for the nuggets of wisdom that fall from their heads on to the page.) And I LOVE being able to support and encourage other writers in turn.

      I was speaking to my sister — a visual artist — about this phenomenon one day last year, and she made an interesting point. In the world of artists (which includes writers), there isn’t the same hierarchy you get in other fields. Having a book published doesn’t take you to a different level where you can no longer learn anything from unpublished writers. Winning a literary prize doesn’t take you to another level where you can’t learn something from genre writers. Regardless of where we all are on our writing journeys, we’re all in this together, inspiring and supporting and encouraging and teaching each other. And that is a wondiferous thing.



  15. Tonia Marie Harris on January 8, 2015 at 9:48 am

    Hey there, Mike. I am sitting here missing you right now. Like Kim, I could here your voice when I read this and I was transported back to Salem. All the hugs, the rainbow socks, and the night you read. I remember that. I remember listening to your effing brilliant story and thinking, “I’ve been playing poker and having drinks with this guy. How lucky am I?” It was a pleasure, and how you made everyone laugh, smile, and what’s more- open up to be themselves.

    Bravery is another quality I think any writer needs. You, Sir, have that in loads. Gold brick loads, apparently. The cool thing about bravery is it doesn’t mean we go our merry way with no fear. It means, especially as writers, that we pick up that shovel and dig up (and deeper into) all those fears and turn them into stories that might give some other poor schmuck a little courage. That’s what books have always done for me.

    I still have a plan to go back to school and pursue my masters in English Literature, but in the meantime I shall bear witness to the what gifts I have now and put them to good use. Thanks for the testimony, the wit, and the encouragement. We all need more ML Swift and rainbow socks in our lives.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 3:04 pm

      Tonia,

      I could hear your sweet voice in your comment, as well. It’s nice to put a voice with the words, but even before, I had a relatively clear sound of who you were. Light, caring, thoughtful. I liked taking your “fears and turning them into stories that might give some other poor schmuck (and yes, I’m admitting I’m a poor schmuck) a little courage.” That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Conveying a message so that others may walk through a circumstance or experience a foreign way of life, therefore instilling a greater sense of world unity? Dang. I feel like a Miss America contestant: “And I want World Peace.” Thanks, and take care, Tonia.



  16. Liz Tully on January 8, 2015 at 9:51 am

    A very funny dose of reality for many of us. Those of us of a ‘certain age’ and with a ‘certain number of previous degrees’ are not headed toward university posts or MFA’s. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) We travel a different path.

    Thanks for the words of wisdom and encouragement. Writers write.

    I also love the rainbow socks and enjoy your eye glass holders. Two pairs, eh?



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 3:08 pm

      Liz,

      Thanks for reminding me that I’m a “man of a certain age.” The kids will be calling me Mr. Mike before long. Wait. They already do.

      And I surround myself with the comical things in life…something to put a smile on my lips. The world has enough tragedy. I appreciate your comment. Have a great day, and take a nap. I’ve found they help us elderly. :)



  17. Susan Setteducato on January 8, 2015 at 9:57 am

    Mike,
    One of my favorite writers, Ian Rankin, lists one of his former jobs as swineherd. This made me like him even more than I already did. I spent my adolescence (going by your definition, and assuming I will live to be 200) as a single mom running a sign-painting business. I wrote a lot of poetry and first chapters of novels in my lucid moments. I also waited tables, drove a delivery car and did landscaping. No pigs come into my story, I’m sorry to say. But my observations of people in those challenging years is as valuable to me as any degree. I relate more to your list than to the one posted by Ms. Bially (I, too, was intimidated!), but then I think there’s room for all of us here, MFAs and swineherds a alike. Thank you for making me smile this morning. And I really love your socks.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 3:16 pm

      Susan,

      Hail to the pig farmers! We raised pigs when I was a child. What can I say? We liked bacon. It was fun, and added to the fodder that is my life; I can’t tell you how many times we were late to school rounding up the pigs that had escaped from the pen after a rainstorm. Like convicts. And oddly, they were Hampshires, which are black with a white stripe.

      You bring up a good point: observation. I think Anne LaMott says something about that being key, and I believe that writers (actually all artists) are innately different in viewing the world. We see what others don’t.

      I’d be lost without the socks. They not only help with my whimsy, but my sanity. Thanks for taking a moment to comment!



  18. Sarah Callender on January 8, 2015 at 10:03 am

    Lovely, funny, humble and true. (Adjectives to describe my favorite kind of writing.)

    First of all, bless you. Caring for a loved one with Alzheimer’s is yeoman’s work.

    Second, I love that you have multiple places to rest your glasses. You must be incredibly poor-visioned.

    Third, the sign of a true writer is that he feels inadequate when in the presence of published writers. Welcome. We’ve been expecting you.

    Finally, my daughter (a rainbow aficionado) might break into your house and steal your socks. She’s ten but she’s determined and crafty. Keep your doors locked.

    Thank you for saying Yes to Therese!



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 3:44 pm

      Sarah,

      I’ve enjoyed all of your stuff here on WU as well, and I appreciate so much the overwhelmingly favorable response on the site today. Makes a guy feel wanted. Loved. I needed that.

      I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have excellent vision. It’s the bear and the moose that are blind as bats. ;)

      My rainbow socks are like Dorothy’s slippers. Your daughter may be in for a bit of a shock trying to grab them. Thanks for your kind welcome.



  19. Vaughn Roycroft on January 8, 2015 at 10:03 am

    What a midwinter treat to see you here, Mike! It was damn cold out, and this post warmed my bones beautifully. Since I was right there with you in college (symbolically speaking – although there were nights when neither of us could be sure, I’ll warrant), I’d like to add a word to your list that wishfully sums up my collegiate academic record: Expunge.

    As much as I love her, when I see articles like Sharon’s last one, I simply walk all the way to the coffee machine with my fingers in my ears singing “Obla-di Obla-da,” and somehow life manages to go on. I normally avoid talking about so-called credentials. I have to focus on the work first. I’m too simpleminded and fearful to take this thing on any other way. And I believe a lot of the rest of it is peripheral to my central focus. I know, I know – most of those things are intended to improve the work. Maybe I’m just plugging my ears and singing Sir Paul (sans Kanye) to myself, but I’ve found I make the most progress when I’m not only digging deep, but when I’m enjoying myself.

    I *enjoy* the craft-orientation here at WU. And I enjoy friendship and sharing with my fellow writers, like you. And so far focusing thusly has kept me in pretty good stead. It’s like a new type of degree, without the stoned poetry. We’re like a sub-culture here – a literary ‘fringe,’ if you will. See what I did there? Enjoy adding another word to you list, my friend. Looking forward to seeing you again. Maybe we can spend a day enunciating “nge” words together.

    Awesome job, Mike! Rock on with your socks on!



    • Barry Knister on January 8, 2015 at 11:02 am

      Vaughn–
      I really like this: “I normally avoid talking about so-called credentials.” Exactly. They’re nice, but let’s see the work first. Agents encourage writers to amass credentials, because a list of them serves as a marketing tool when the agent pitches work to editors. And that’s because editors want protection for themselves for what they buy. If an author with lots of credentials doesn’t sell, the editor can tell her boss, “Don’t look at me, the writer’s credentials are great.” In other words, it’s something of a closed system. For both agent and editor, I’m sure that trusting instinct is pretty nervous-making. That’s why so much genre fiction looks and sounds the same.



      • Vaughn Roycroft on January 8, 2015 at 11:21 am

        Thanks, Barry, for the compliment and for providing such an interesting added perspective here. And thanks for your consistency in enhancing the conversation on WU. Here’s to staying true to our own instincts, regardless of those who might stick to safer paths.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 5:57 pm

      V,

      I was on a roll commenting back to everyone when I reached yours and had to break away and run an errand. It was a good stopping point. Yeah, I could have taken a moment and answered a quick, succinct comment, but a) succinctness is not my strong point, and b) I wanted to take more than just “a moment.”

      I think you’re one of the first people with whom I had a “conversation” here in the halls of WU (see what I did there? Sounds like we’re at University enjoying a mélange of poetry…and chili dogs.). Your warm and generous spirit makes a soul feel right at home, and in a world where I constantly second-guess word choices (believe me, even making a comment around the more learned can be nerve-wracking), that’s a very welcome trait.

      Vaughn, I consider you one of the least “simple-minded,” as you humbly described, people I know. Your writing is very thought out, deep, curious, intricate, intense, and downright awesome. I can’t believe I said “awesome.” I hate saying “awesome” and you’ve made me say “awesome” four times now.

      And I love your subtle humor and sensibility — a sort of calm, coolness about you. I look to your example when I sense I’m getting a bit too sophomoric for my own good. You keep me grounded. Thanks!

      And thanks so much for your friendship and comment. I chuckled at all the right spots. Talk to you on the ethers. :)



  20. Denise Willson on January 8, 2015 at 10:15 am

    What do I think a writer needs to succeed? PASSION. If you love what you do, success is defined not by accolades and the all-mighty dollar, but by the smile it puts on your face. Life is too short for anything else.

    Love the socks, Mike! Gotta get me a pair!

    Denise (Dee) Willson
    Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 6:03 pm

      Denise,

      Passion! Purple Passion if you’re of the Hemingway sect. ;) And I think the leprechauns have a website, although being blind, they take forever to get back to you. Thanks for commenting!



  21. Wila Phillips on January 8, 2015 at 10:20 am

    No one is more insecure in their quest to write than I am but what the hey, I go forward. I related well to all you said but did spend a little extra time rereading the section on the ‘nge’ words. I always loved singed, tinged and binged. Perhaps binged the most.

    I have nothing to promote today except a good mood on a cold day and gratitude for your post this morning.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 6:05 pm

      Wila,

      Love the words! And a good mood on a cold day makes all the world a warmer place. Thanks for taking a minute to read and comment. And nice meeting you.



  22. VP Chandler on January 8, 2015 at 10:28 am

    I’m not very wordy, that’s my voice. :) But just wanted to say I was so pleased when I saw your socks, I laughed. Like Kim, I’m glad I wasn’t drinking anything at the time.

    Yes, yes, yes to everything you said. The more I trying this writing thing, the more I come to the same conclusions. Good job! I wish I had been there to hear your writing at the Un-Con.

    PS– I’m so glad your unicorns are free range. That’s so much more humane and they’ll taste better.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 6:11 pm

      Valerie,

      I love your voice, especially your singing one! Your UnCon Song is on my playlist. :)

      The socks, like WU, have become a part of me, instilling much inspiration when I need it most. From WU, I get the added benefit of a first-account, well-rounded education from a diverse set of voices. Lots of beneficial advice that comprise, in a sense, classes as intense as college, if you buckle down and put your mind to it.

      Thanks for your support, and I’m so glad to have met you at unconference.



  23. Donald Maass on January 8, 2015 at 10:33 am

    Mike-

    I scored 730 out of 800 on my verbal SAT’s too. I’ve picked myself up so many times that being on the ground feels like standing.

    Your modest post understates one thing, though: All that perseverance, hard work and life experience could also be expressed as learning.

    Welcome to the lab, the place where we study, ponder, share our wisdom and failures..and learn. Nice to have you here.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 6:34 pm

      Don,

      First off, picture me replacing Wayne and Garth on SNL, waving my hands and screaming, “I’m not worthy! I’m not worthy!” But instead of bowing before Madonna, I’m bowing before The Don…a. Well, I guess I needed to say that in my Italian accent for it to play the way I wanted.

      Second, I could tell after a few hands of poker with you that you also scored a 730 on your Verbal SATs. Something about the way you held your cards, in a good-vocabulary, I-know-analogies kind of way.

      And I tell you, many times I’ve had to crawl awhile before I gained the strength to stand up again, but by gosh, by golly, I always made sure it was forward movement.

      Thanks for reading all the way to the end, providing a continuous source of good advice, and taking the time to comment. And the welcome. I’m not worthy!



  24. alex wilson on January 8, 2015 at 10:41 am

    Part of the pleasure of the daily posts and a major part of the take-away wisdom is in the replies contributed by readers. Thank you, Debbie McClure for citing the generosity of the writing community in helping/advising/sharing with each others and, especially, those on the cusp of joining the community. Wonderful point.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 6:45 pm

      Hear, hear! And you, as well, Alex.



  25. Karen on January 8, 2015 at 10:49 am

    What a terrific post! Man, I’d ever heard of Mr. M.L. Swift prior to this morning, but he now tops my ‘Most Admired’ list! I could read this stuff all day…



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 7:06 pm

      Karen,

      It’s comments like yours that will make it difficult for me to fit in my custom embroidered Writer Unboxed hat anymore. I appreciate such a wonderful compliment, and as I told Don, “I’m not worthy! I’m not worthy!” It’s a pleasure meeting you, and I hope to see you around.



  26. Ray Rhamey on January 8, 2015 at 10:55 am

    Excellent debut, Mike, I hope we’ll see you back again–your thoughts are welcome and your voice fun to listen to. In a long-ago correspondence with editor Ed Stackler he told me that he and his colleagues agreed that it usually took writers until the third novel to “get it.” That’s some learning curve, maybe, what, well over 200,000 words? Point is, success at writing a novel starts with talent but then depends on writing, lots of writing. That’s it.

    One side note: where I come from the expression was “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” I had no idea there were variations. My wish is that you’ll ride back this way again.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 7:45 pm

      Ray,

      If memory serves, you were in the first dinner party that Sunday night at the Hawthorne, and I enjoyed meeting you and the conversation immensely. It had been awhile since I had the opportunity to mingle with the literary crowd, and you helped form a well-rounded round table.

      Hmm…the third book. Maybe if I put out two crappy quickies that I don’t care about…

      And don’t worry. You’ll see me around. Somewhere. I ain’t done by any means. :) Thanks for your comment.



  27. carole howard on January 8, 2015 at 10:58 am

    Thanks for the great post, from another member of the “I came to writing after a whole lot of life experience doing other things” club. As to your question about what a writer needs: I don’t know if this would be in the same category as “something to say” and “hard work,” but I couldn’t have done it without a group of colleagues/friends who are both supportive and critical. If this were the Oscars ceremony, they’d be the first ones I’d thank. But, alas, it’s not.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 9:10 pm

      Every day is Oscar-gratitude-worthy, Carole, especially when it comes to remembering those who held your hand in the darkest moments and supported you when you were ready to throw in the towel—and we’ve all had those moments, right? Like every time we put something out there? At least for me. I even said to a friend after posting this article, “Talk me off the ledge!” Ha! The group here at WU is generous to a fault, though, and shares freely what should cost thousands (more precisely, it’s priceless). I appreciate your taking the time to comment.



  28. Kathryn McCullough on January 8, 2015 at 11:00 am

    So—I have sock envy, Mike! I write from Ecuador, and my feet get cold here (high in the Andes). And all to often it’s a literal chill. How shall I ever scribble another sentence without those rainbows? Oh, well, I loved your piece and appreciate your including talent on the list. One needs at least a little, right? Great to “meet” you here. I’m a relative newbie to WU. But you really rock those socks! Thanks!



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 9:18 pm

      That is so neat, Kathryn, and something contrary to what I thought. I always thought Equador, being close to the equator, was continuously hot, but of course, I wasn’t thinking of the mountains. How American of me (my worldly friends are always telling me this).

      I can’t guarantee that they’ll be made from genuine free-range unicorn manes, but check Amazon for the socks. They have everything, and it wouldn’t surprise me if a clan of blind leprechauns wasn’t stashed away in that vast warehouse of theirs. Thanks for your comment. YOU rock! And stay warm. :)



  29. Peg on January 8, 2015 at 11:03 am

    Mike! I realize the cliche’ and yet the truth is: I laughed, I cried and I applauded. Thank you for my permission slip.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 9:23 pm

      Peg,

      Keep it under your hat that the permission slip came from me. I stole a stack of them from the Principal’s office. Hall passes, too. See me after lunch at my locker. ;)

      Seriously, thank you for your nice comment.



  30. Steve Swift on January 8, 2015 at 11:10 am

    Yes, I know; you all will see the last name of this post and probably assume a biased post is coming in regards to the article written by M.L. Swift (I still call him Mike, but I have privilege to do so as his older brother who slept in the same room for him growing up, and tormented him from 1964-1981). You are correct in that assumption, as I am biased; however, you would be incorrect if you assumed I am biased just because I am his brother. I am biased because I recognize a few traits in Mike that many may not know about him, and as such, I believe I have a better understanding on how he has become what I have learned is a very talented writer. I am not a writer so maybe I am way off base, but I do believe the two traits I mention below could easily be added to Mike’s list of “Six Things Every Writer Needs to Succeed” and become “Eight Things Every Writer Needs to Succeed.” These two things are passion and commitment; both of which I find my brother to hold deeply in his core ability to write the way he does. As a business executive, I read one document after the other related to my company and external markets to develop new strategies to increase business. I have found myself reading less and less for pleasure over the years due mainly to limited time or just being tired. I have picked up books and articles and lost interest before I ever got into the meat of that reading. This is something I never do when I read anything my brother writes. It can be something a simple as a birthday card, a posting on Facebook, an instant message he sends me, or articles such as this one. His writings are always entertaining, informative (when that is the intent), grab the reader right away, and extremely well done. To me, that is what reading an article or book is all about. Yes, I love my brother Mike and am very proud of him, but I would buy a book from M.L. Swift any day even if my name was John Brown. I already know whatever he writes will be one of those books that will be hard to put down at night. I am also happy to see so many of you have learned more about Mike’s talent from both his trip to Salem, MA and from his being a part of Writer Unboxed. For those of you who are in position to help move his work and career forward, do all of us out here who enjoy to read offerings like his a favor and help make it happen. I have learned over the years that none of us can do as much as all of us. Oh, and I can certainly say I miss those times growing up across the room from Mike. He was a good kid and is a great man. Have a great day everyone. Signed, M.L. Swifts brother.



    • Therese Walsh on January 8, 2015 at 12:01 pm

      See now, you know a person is authentically great when their sibling — the person who probably received more than a few ice-cold water balloons to the face from their kin — is willing to stand up and say, “This guy. This is a good guy.” Thank you, Steve. It’s nice to meet you here.



    • Rebeca Schiller on January 8, 2015 at 1:18 pm

      It must be in the Swift genes because you comment was a beautifully written tribute to Mike. A bravo goes to the Brother Swift.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 1:32 pm

      WOW! I am literally—in the most literal sense of the word—sitting here trembling with…what? Excitement? Elation? An OMG moment? All of them.

      I’m in and out today, at least until later this evening, and came back to answer a few more comments. I was getting to them in order, and was scrolling up to reference Densie’s comment when I came across this.

      Steve, thank you for taking the time to write those…and I’m shaking my head…this floors me…I’m in shock—speechless…those wonderfully heart-lifting words. I know you’re a busy man (he’s quite VIP, folks). Just want you to know how moved I am. Folks, this is totally unsolicited! I didn’t even know he knew about it; I hadn’t sent him the link!

      Therese, it was more often a stuffed squirrel (with HARD eyes) thrown across the room. For many years, from the top bunk. A rude awakening to my loud snoring. ;)

      Thanks again, Steve. Now off and running to pick up Dad. Family. Love ’em. :D



    • Jo Eberhardt on January 8, 2015 at 6:07 pm

      Steve, of everything I’ve read today, your comment made me cry. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, and so publicly supporting your brother. We all know he’s wonderful, and that his writing is amazing, but it’s so touching to hear those sentiments expressed by a family members. (Colour me a little envious.) Thank you for coming by WU to make such an eloquent comment.



  31. Vijaya on January 8, 2015 at 11:11 am

    You forgot the seventh thing: a great name like MLSwift!!! There’s only one you :) I’m going to say it a bit differently, but to have success, one must always be an apprentice to the craft. Always.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 9:38 pm

      Vijaya,

      I’ve always been partial to the name Swift, as well. Let’s hope I have as much luck with it as Jonathan did. And speaking of pretty names, yours is a delight and very unique in itself. I’ve seen you around the rooms…it’s a pleasure to officially meet you. And thanks for leaving a comment so we could do so! Your summation is spot-on: always the apprentice.



  32. Leslie Tall Manning on January 8, 2015 at 11:16 am

    I write and write and write…therefore I am credentialed.

    If I could physically hang my (10) novels up on my walls in store-bought frames and give them gold-stamped seals, they’d make any EM-EF-AY look measly by comparison.

    Oh, and I have the same rainbow socks. That must count for something!

    ; )



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 11:21 pm

      Leslie, if I were you, I’d already have them as wallpaper. Real wallpaper, plastered in the house, not the desktop. Need a good kitchen print? Write some chick lit. Bedroom? Why, romance, of course. Hopefully not suspense or (aghast!) horror! But seriously, I was trying to fit in “laughMFAoff” but couldn’t anywhere without it seeming gratuitous. There’s always the next time, and it seems to be a hot topic, to some “degree.” Pardon the pun…it’s getting late.

      Thanks for a great comment, and I’ll see you around! And the socks make magic. Some people can’t handle them at first. Belt yourself to your chair until you get used to them, otherwise, risk bodily injury flailing across the room.



  33. Greta Boris on January 8, 2015 at 11:18 am

    I wanted to add my thanks as well. Hardly one week into my New Year’s resolve to be more persistent and optimistic and I receive an email from a client, “Read through it. Didn’t like it at all.” And, my back went out and I’m fighting the flu. If I thought I also had to win contests, get an MFA and nail down a job at a literary pub, I’d take my fevered body for a swim in my freezing swimming pool and be done with it.

    I think it was Stephen King who said, “Don’t get an MFA.” (It could be some other author but I don’t feel like doing the research either. It’s usually safe to attribute writing quotes to either him or Mark Twain.) I plan to take both your advice and his and keep on keeping on as soon as I can get off the couch.



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 11:36 pm

      Greta,

      First and foremost, you must heal from the flu…take it easy…anything can wait for a week, and I always ask myself, “how good a job would I do sick?” I listen to the body.

      I’ve also read writers warn about getting MFA’s, for my needs, at least.

      For now, heal. And, if you feel the need to “write,” just make note of all the aches and pains, the symptoms, the entire experience and use it in a book someday. The words on the paper will remind you exactly of that day(s) on the couch. To everything there is a purpose. The big, the little…an aspect of it can play into many stories, for stories are the same feelings wrapped up in different scenarios.

      Thanks for your comment! Feel better.



      • Greta Boris on January 9, 2015 at 1:30 am

        So you’re not just bright and clever. You’re a truly nice man. I’m sniffling into my Kleenex. Blessings :)



  34. Kate Victory Hannisian on January 8, 2015 at 11:32 am

    Mike, thanks for this wonderful, warm and funny post (the “warm” part especially appreciated on a day so cold outside it hurts my eyeballs). Summer reading certificates (oh, how I loved earning those!), school newspapers and yearbooks, 720 on the English portion of the SATs, poetry — all on my own “credentials” list as well. English Lit was one of my majors as an undergrad, and then I went to work as a journalist. The cringe-worthy short stories I wrote in college showed me just how little I had to say at that point — I knew I needed to live some LIFE before I could hope to write anything worth reading.

    I didn’t make any serious attempts at returning to creative writing until I had started a family and had switched to freelance editing. That was the point at which I found I had the mental space and energy to get back into it. So now I’m digging in and working on the craft, learning why some things work and others don’t, and deepening my understanding of what story is and where it is and isn’t in my own works in progress. The UnCon had so many “aha” moments for me on this, and as you and others above have so eloquently pointed out, we need to stay open to learning, story after story, book after book — that’s the journey.

    You’d need two or three pairs of those rainbow socks up here today, Mike! Thinking of you in (much warmer) Florida today with a bit of envy. ;-)



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 7:39 am

      Kate,

      It’s always good to see you and “hear” you, now that I can put a voice to those words. And it seems like your yankee wind is blowing its way down here. Brrr…it reached the mid-twenties last night.

      I remember how superficial my writing was back then. Yes, things bothered me (like war) that I wrote about, but I’m sure it lacked the depth I’d put into it now. Nothing can substitute for life experience.

      Thanks for your comment. The reception for this piece has warmed my soul and made me forget about the cold outdoors. :) Take care.



  35. Gretchen Riddle on January 8, 2015 at 11:34 am

    I have no college degree. In fact I have spent most of my life in kitchens working. I find that many people do not value work and life experience as much as they should.
    I like how you make it funny while you keep it real, Mike. I bless the day I saw those rainbow socks. They, through you brought a new and distinct humor into my life. I hope you write more about writing and about life.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 7:43 am

      You know, Gretch, the UnCon would not have been the same without you. You were like the wise sage who kept our little splinter group on an even keel. I’m so glad our paths crossed! I so look forward to the day we can all do it again. Miss you. :)



  36. CG Blake on January 8, 2015 at 11:42 am

    Mike, it was such a pleasure to meet you IRL and you are even funnier in person than you are online. Your presence enriched the Un-Conference. To your post, an MFA is useful, but there are lots of talented writers who don’t have academic degrees. Your list is on target and I have only one thing to add: a desire to learn as much as you can about the craft of fiction, through books, workshops, and online communities like Writer Unboxed (okay, Therese, that was a shameless plug). All the best to you in 2015!



    • Therese Walsh on January 8, 2015 at 12:03 pm

      I forgive you, Chris. And thanks!



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 7:48 am

      Hey Chris!

      Thanks for the great comment, and let me tell you, you’re one of the nicest guys on Earth. I wish I would have participated in the morning walks, but ACK! It was COLD! You Yankees are more used to those frigid temps than I.

      And post all the shameless and downright blatant plugs for WU you want! I’m forever spreading the word around about them. Take care. :)



  37. Tom Bentley on January 8, 2015 at 11:45 am

    Mike, it has been such a pleasure to read your comments, and more so to hear your warm, quirky, crackerjack voice in full trumpet here.

    I actually loved the “x” words in college, like “flummoxed” and “bollixed”—surely we could have collaborated and successfully rewritten Beowulf as a rock opera?

    Oh, and I do have one of those flighty pieces of paper you mention, but it don’t make no nevermind for my writing. (Though I did have a couple of fine instructors.)

    Please continue to sock us with rainbows.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:00 am

      Tom,

      I’m having to pick and choose some comments now because it’s getting late and bed is calling. I’ll go back and get the ones I missed tomorrow. But I stopped at yours because any time I’m here, I look forward to certain commenters and articles, you and yours being among them. I like humor combined with brains; the two make for a killer combination.

      I’m not perplexed in the least about the X words. They have that guttural quality. I see why you were vexed by them. And probably drank Dos Equis.

      The socks are beginning to grow on my feet like living organisms. Before long, I’ll be a body stocking. I see a thriller in the making.

      Thanks, Tom, and it’s been great getting to know you.



  38. Michael Gettel-Gilmartin on January 8, 2015 at 11:51 am

    I usually lurk here–except for the occasional comments on Ray Rhamey’s excellent Floggings–but I feel compelled, as another Mike, to say “well done, great writing, and you da man” for this coffee-through-nose snorter of a piece. LOVED IT!



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 7:54 am

      Fellow Mike,

      I’m glad you took the opportunity to come out of the shadows and comment. I’ve been wondering about the lack of Mikes around. It used to be a much more common name—now I see it just takes a little coaxing. Thanks for stepping out, and in such a nice way. No, YOU da man!



  39. Ron Estrada on January 8, 2015 at 12:11 pm

    The question on everyone’s mind, of course, is this: did you get the coffee mug in payment for writing the article or did you get to write the article as a reward for buying the coffee mug?

    Now onto less important matters.

    The #1 thing a writer needs to succeed is the right hair conditioner. Otherwise, our back cover photos won’t even compare to that of Mr. Maass.

    The #2 thing a writer needs to succeed is the ability to ignore 90% of the advice slung about by the millions of self-appointed experts. Even some of the actual experts need to be taken with a grain of salt. While the craft portion of advice is still relatively stable, the business side is changing much too rapidly (as business is want to do) to take any one person’s flawless opinion as the gospel of book selling.

    The #3 thing a writer needs is to ignore anyone who only asks for one answer, and to be able to admit that my writing sucks AND do something about that aspect of my writing that doth suck. Dear Lord, it’s a pro-fession. Be a pro. Never stop learning.

    As a fellow engineer, I applaud your desire to stop thinking analytically and allow the insanity a small foothold. It is a life-changing experience.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 8:04 am

      Hey Ron,

      Re: the coffee mug. It’s like the chicken and the egg. I’m not sure which came first, but all of them help me eat a balanced breakfast.

      I liked your three points. In this ever-changing pub world, I assess the situation as I cross each hurdle—tomorrow’s way of doing things may be totally different than today’s. I find it’s best to just keep an open mind. Thanks for your thoughtful comment.



  40. Alex J. Cavanaugh on January 8, 2015 at 12:16 pm

    Sheer determination!
    If those first six were really requirements to being an author, then I have no idea how I made it, as I’ve only done one of them.
    Great stuff, Mike! You did it.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 8:09 am

      ALEX!

      So good to see you here. You know, I’ve always looked to you as an example…I know your journey and see how “side-stepping” the usual path can lead to success. It’s an individual process, and one which, when combined with a level head and some talent (and hard work, and clones), takes many routes. Yours is a prime example of this. Thanks for coming by and always, for your support!



  41. Bernadette Phipps-Lincke on January 8, 2015 at 12:28 pm

    I think Cheese and Macaroni works well. It gives the subject a thoughtful twist that I have to stop and think about, because I’m so used to wording it the other way. Cheese and Macaroni… there is something about that combination that promises more than standard fare.

    Love this post, Mike. And I agree with your points. It’s never the degree, but the depth of the soul, degree or no.

    I needed a good laugh and shot of encouragement/courage this morning. Thanks for both.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 8:12 am

      Bee,

      Good to see you. And yes, Cheese and Macaroni turns the phrase on its ear, doesn’t it? Makes one stop and think for a minute. Excellent point.

      The only degree I’d like to see right now is the thermometer reading 72°.

      Thanks for commenting. :)



  42. Rita Bailey on January 8, 2015 at 12:51 pm

    I love your list, Mike. Mine is even shorter. I think writers need three things, but any two out of the three will work.

    The first is a PASSION that is close to an addiction, a desire to sit in that chair and play with words, even when, or especially when, your world is spinning out of control.

    Next comes HARD WORK. Writing is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Sometimes fixing a scene that doesn’t work feels like I’m hauling cement slabs on my back.

    Lastly, TALENT. One thing I’ve discovered: talent is not immutable. It stretches and grows the more you work with it.

    But I firmly believe that passion and hard work can trump talent any time.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 8:33 am

      Rita,

      Comparing writing to an addiction is perfect, and I wonder how many of us have addictive personalities. I’ve let my house get upturned in the past while engrossed in my words. I need a maid!

      Hard work never hurt anyone and makes for a day a soul can say, “Whew! I feel accomplished.” What starts as a word turns into a sentence turns into a paragraph turns into…well, you get the gist. But laziness isn’t going to get those words on paper, is it? Diligence!

      And talent…the cherry on top, I always say. The rest of the sundae is delicious, but that cherry (on a mountain of whipped cream) always makes it a titch better. Thanks for coming by and commenting!



  43. Cathy Yardley on January 8, 2015 at 12:52 pm

    This was the best thing to wake up to this morning. (Where the heck is the “LOVE THIS” button? ) You always crack me up, in comments and on social media, and this was both funny and encouraging, a perfect showcase for your voice. I’ll be sharing the hell out of it. Great to see you here!

    So… when’s your next article coming out? ;)



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 8:41 am

      Cathy,

      Such a pleasure, as always, to see you here, and I’m glad I added to the best part of waking up along with the Folgers in your cup. Whenever I see you around social media or here, it brightens my day. You and “the boy” have some great updates!

      And I hope to have finished answering everyone’s comments before my next article! ;) Whew!



  44. Anna Soliveres on January 8, 2015 at 1:08 pm

    MIKE! LOVE, love, loved this post! :)

    The point on hard work hits me a little more than the rest (at least in this moment). When I’ve finished my novel and I realize…I haven’t finished at all. There is so much work left. From editing, to editing, oh and did I mention editing, to querying, to researching agents, to writing the synopsis. My shoulders sag at the thought of it all. The work doesn’t end.

    This is were perseverance kicks in. That “don’t give up” attitude. Thank you for the encouraging words!

    P.s. I have those same socks!



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 8:46 am

      ANNA!

      So good to see you here, and thank you for the compliment.

      Hard work. It never ends. I’m constantly surprised how someone has a blank page one day and a finished book the next. Seems like something was skipped in the process, and that something is a LOT of hard work. Hard work (and the entire process) takes TIME. People don’t want to put the time in (perseverance) and then wonder wtf happened. But for those of us with the patience to persevere, the reward is so much greater.

      And the socks…aren’t they great? Magical.



  45. Rebecca Vance on January 8, 2015 at 1:15 pm

    Thanks Mike for such a great post. This addresses an issue that I’ve had with being successful. It seems that all of the authors that are serious about the craft have a resume that has a degree. Granted, it might not be in the literature or publishing area, but it is still there–a BA, BS, MFA, MA—you name it, but it is a degree in something. I am a newbie working on my first novel and write a review blog for other newbies. I went to a junior college back in the day, before the internet, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth. I took a couple of writing classes. Back then, the bible of writing craft was John Gardener’s Art of Fiction. He was knowledgeable but a bit of a pompous ass, in my humble opinion. I did learn a lot from the instructor however. I also became VP of a writer’s club for a short time. Funding ran out and I never finished that degree in Literature as planned. Life took over and I gave up my dream of writing and worked in customer service for over 30 years. Now that I’m retired, I have returned to my lifelong dream of writing a novel. It is easier now than it was back then with the advent of the internet, and Amazon; yet it is also harder because there are so many other new authors out there, much to choose from. So, I’m glad to hear that not everyone values the degree above all. I read a lot of craft books and I could go back to school, but why? I want to devote my time solely to writing and not take classes that I’m not interested in, just to get the degree. Thanks again, and like everyone else, I love the socks! Hope to see you again soon. :)



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 9:01 am

      Rebecca,

      Thanks for your comment, and you bring up a good point. There is a great deal of opportunity in the publishing world with the advent of the internet, and from the sound of things, you are right there in the mix. As can be the case with any field (it was the same with engineering in the 80’s), there is an overabundance of people vying for a foothold, and the market is flooded. But there’s always room for another drop of water. Be that drop!

      Thanks again. Write on!



  46. Morgyn Star (@MorgynStar) on January 8, 2015 at 1:33 pm

    Dude! Most excellent post. (Think Great Lebowski — Jeff Bridges great!)

    Late to the party — too busy writing. Rewarded for staying out of the ‘stream’ aka the nets by your post.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 9:27 am

      Morgyn,

      Any friend of the Great Lebowski is a friend of mine. And glad you found the post so “rewarding.” I appreciate your stopping the whirlwind of writing to take a moment and comment (which, if you think about it, is more writing, so I didn’t give you a break at all). Thanks again.



  47. Rebeca Schiller on January 8, 2015 at 2:04 pm

    I regret a few things about UnCon: First, not attending Bedtime stories or taking Lisa Cron’s workshop, or the poker games.

    What don’t I regret? Sitting across from Mike in all his Writer Unboxed regalia at the Lobster Shanty, and sharing steamed mussels and onion rings with him, but also having the opportunity to get to know what a caring and sensitive person he is as well as funny, well-spoken, kind and…and..and all around nice guy!

    So it was with great pleasure to see this post and nod to every point he made. It *is* about passion, hard work, knowing how to turn a sentence, and tenacity.

    Although many of us lack the MFA, what we don’t lack is the support, wisdom, and real camaraerie from this tribe we call Writer Unboxed.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 9:58 am

      ‘Beca,

      For some reason, the like buttons aren’t working for me this morning. Regardless, there’s not a “love” button, and that’s what I’d prefer.

      The poker games would have been all the more special with your attendance; you’re a delightful woman with an abundance of interesting stories. Sharing calamari with you (and the mussels) was one of the high points of the trip. You’re quite the conversationalist, once you come out of your shell. And that’s what I loved about the UnCon: everybody could be themselves and share themselves freely. It made all the difference. Thanks for commenting.



      • Rebeca Schiller on January 9, 2015 at 3:47 pm

        Calamari! Ack! I blanked out on that. And thank you, kind sir, for the lovely words.



  48. Leanne Dyck on January 8, 2015 at 2:17 pm

    I really like your list — very empowering.
    I’m in the process of redefining ‘success’. Instead of one in the distant future, I’m trying to identify the success in my daily writing life.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 10:02 am

      Leanne,

      I oftentimes define success by posing the question: Did I wake up this morning?

      If the answer is “yes,” then everything else is gravy. :)



  49. Brunonia Barry on January 8, 2015 at 2:18 pm

    Thanks, Mike. Very well put. As someone who never wanted to do anything but write, but who, until the last few years, didn’t do anything remotely creative for a living, I think hard work and life experience have been the two most important for me. I wrote almost every day, but I didn’t have a lot to say until I’d lived a bit. You mentioned that you’re a caregiver. I think that experience has taught me more about life (and writing) than anything else.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 10:10 am

      Brunonia,

      Good to see you, and may I say again what a pleasure it was to sit in your sessions at the UnCon. As a fan of the theater, nothing thrills me more than becoming another character for a spell—to live in another’s skin. I try to do that with the characters I write, as well.

      It’s funny…I could fit in the skin of John’s (Vorhaus) protagonist in his latest book, Poole’s Paradise, very easily because I’m also a firm believer that everyone crosses paths for a reason. There’s always a lesson there. The people in my life—you among them—teach me every day. Thanks.



  50. Larissa Thomson on January 8, 2015 at 2:26 pm

    Hey Mike,

    Hear, hear to rainbow socks! I think you may be on to something – never mind the MFA or the long list of novels under one’s belt, a writer should have a great pair of socks, rainbow or otherwise! My own pair of whimsy-producing socks was given to me by a good friend this past December – teal blue with multi-coloured flowers (yup, that’s Canadian sp: “coloured”). And on the ankle: “Carpe the f-*k out of this Diem” (I cover my ankles when children and my mother are around…). So yeah, you bet I’ll be donning those babies when I write my next flash fiction entry for WU!

    Seriously now, I loved your article. Was feeling a bit blue (blue, but not teal) about my lack of writerly achievements, was agonizing about my voice (or lack thereof); was, essentially, hitting a mid-life crisis that neither a #2 HB pencil nor laptop keyboard was curing (Sigh. Woe is me. Insert hand thrown melodramatically across forehead here.), until you said (and here I need to scroll up, WAAAAAAY up – wow, so many great comments to scroll past!) “if you’re here, chances are you’re a writer or interested in becoming one, even if you don’t have the credentials. Claim that title. Embrace it now, whether you’re published or not. You write, don’t you? How will anyone else accept you as a writer if you haven’t accepted you as a writer?”
    And I realized that that was it. Personal acceptance. I may not be published (yet) (does one small poem in 1995 count? Haha! Dating myself here.) but that doesn’t obviate the title of writer, now does it? We write because we HAVE TO, regardless of credentials. We write because there is this compulsion, this drive, that forces us to write. We write because we can’t release the hurricane of words from our heads any other way.
    So, I thank you for your list of commonalities – because you’re right – and I thank you for your sense of humour, and for naming “the thing” for me.
    Cheers! Looking forward to reading more articles from you!



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 10:18 am

      Larissa,

      Haha! Your comment was quite entertaining! See? There is power in the socks, rainbow, teal, or otherwise! You have a commanding voice, and I’m glad you found inspiration in that tidbit. About three months into this, I came upon that realization. I used to say “aspiring writer” but you know, it sounded like even I wasn’t sure what the heck I was doing. Was I a forever wannabe, or was I a writer? When I embraced the latter, it opened doors for me, both internal and external. I was able to take greater risks, for some reason.

      Thanks for your delightful comment. Nice meeting you.



  51. Ruth Donald on January 8, 2015 at 2:26 pm

    Very refreshing article, Mike. Thanks for sharing your thoughts. This writing business is so full of highs and lows that an optimistic and encouraging article like yours is a welcome reminder not to take things too seriously. Your list is pretty much complete, in my estimation.

    A propos your comment, “Never be the master; it’ll close your mind”, I recently read an interesting article on Brain Pickings regarding differing mindsets (Fixed vs. Growth) which expands on that idea. (https://www.brainpickings.org/2014/01/29/carol-dweck-mindset/) The growth mindset “creates a passion for learning rather than a hunger for approval” and that’s one of the keys to success.

    As someone who has been concerned – okay, downright scared – about my next novel disappointing the readers who’ve enjoyed the first three, I’m hoping I can fall down and pick myself back up with a modicum of grace, if it comes to that.

    Thanks again, Mike, and best of luck to everyone reading or contributing to WU in finding their own version of success.

    Ruth



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 11:38 am

      Hey, Ruth,

      Well, your comment was very graceful, if that’s any indication of how you’d handle picking yourself back up, but isn’t that fear present with everything we put out there? Even this article. I was soooo (and I can’t put enough o’s in there) afraid it would play to a house full of crickets. You never know; you just do your best.

      Thanks for the link! I’ll check it out. And thanks for your gracious comment.



  52. rob akers on January 8, 2015 at 3:37 pm

    Swifty,

    Wonderfully crafted and well delivered article. I appreciate all the hard working hours of writing that you have put into your craft since those heady days of the Writer’s Digest writing prompts. The first time I read your words on that site, I knew you were a superstar, all you needed was experience cobbling the words together. I am so proud to have known you from way back when and I am very excited about where you can take this thing called writing. Well done, sir.

    rob



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 11:44 am

      ROB!

      So good to see you. Thanks for trekking over and reminding me of my humble beginnings. I loved writing with the “gang,” and enjoyed your tales of Cap’n Bill very much, always looking forward to each installment. As far as superstardom, well, that’s yet to be seen. Ha. Thanks again, buddy, and it was great to see you.



  53. Neroli Lacey on January 8, 2015 at 3:56 pm

    Mike, what a writer needs to succeed is a superb voice and a fantastic sense of humor. Both of which you have.

    As for turning weaknesses into strengths, my goal for the year is to have the courage to write badly. i.e. trust my first draft and a quick and dirty revision. I’m going to submit any old thing to my writing group instead of putzing with it forever first.

    happy new year!



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 11:49 am

      Hey, Neroli,

      I’ve seen your lovely face around the room and appreciate your stopping to comment (and what a nice comment, to boot).

      You know, I need to take heed to your words and do the same: write badly. Just get that @#&%%*@#ing draft written and then fix it up and then actually let it go. Ha. Ask Therese. I don’t think I sent her anything that I didn’t say, “Oh, and could you change this to this?” :) Thanks again, and nice meeting you.



  54. peta on January 8, 2015 at 4:33 pm

    Thanks. I read the previous article you referred to, and subsequently wasted a whole day researching MFAs. Needless to say, I don’t have the time or money to pursue one of those. So thanks, for an alternative, which will hopefully put those fears away.

    The problem is, we all have the desire, perseverance, life experience, etc. but it’s the talent I always wonder about. No one will ever tell you whether you’ve got it or not. You just have to believe you do, and hope you get better if you don’t.

    Thanks for entertaining post. Great socks.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:04 pm

      Hey, Peta,

      Many a year ago (actually, a couple is more like it, but the other sounded more poetic) I wrote an essay similar to this one that encouraged personal empowerment. A mantra, if you will, of “Know it; Believe it; Be it.” I mentioned in another comment about a spectrum, and I believe that to be the case with most, if not all, things in life. In this case, a spectrum of talent. We all have talent, to some degree. I guess the majority would fall in the middle and be considered the norm, so their talents would likely go more unnoticed, and therefore, maybe even underdeveloped. But it’s still there. Can talent be improved? Technique can always be improved. I think talent is the degree to which it can be developed or improved. Thanks for your thoughtful comment!



  55. Natalie on January 8, 2015 at 4:33 pm

    My lack-of-fancy-credentials writer’s heart loves this post <3



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:08 pm

      My lack-of-fancy-credentials writer’s heart loves this comment. ;) Thanks, N-N.



  56. Thea on January 8, 2015 at 5:11 pm

    I wish I wasn’t so shy. I’d like to tell you how I really feel. Maybe I will put it into a story. I could entitle it, ‘I’m gonna get you, sucka’. Oh, wait. Sorry. This isn’t my date older men profile. Never mind. Ahh, good list. Signed anonymous



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:12 pm

      Thea,

      You always bring a smile to my face. Beware of those online sites; I hear there are some real winners on them. A friend of mine kept a blog of all her failures. ‘Twas hilarious. She’d post many of the ads and make snarky comments. Thanks for the chuckle.



  57. Jo Eberhardt on January 8, 2015 at 6:16 pm

    I’m am SO proud of you, Mike. Brilliant article, beautifully written and expressed. I’m so pleased to know you, and to have had the chance to spend so much time getting to know you in Salem. (Cheers to the Poker Cabin!)

    Life experience is something you just can’t buy. I remember when I started writing my first book, back when I was all of sixteen, and I reached a point where I suddenly realised that everything I was writing was trite and cliched, because I’d never actually EXPERIENCED anything I was writing about. I’d never been in danger, or in love, or destined to save the world because I was a poor, peasant boy mentioned in an ancient prophecy as the One True King of Everything.

    No amount of pretty words or qualifications could have turned that book into anything other than the trope-filled dreck it was. Without the life experience to invest it with emotional Truth, I had nothing.

    Here’s to hard work, perseverance, the self-awareness to realise our own personal truth, and rainbow socks.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:22 pm

      Jo,

      Whew! I finally made it to you. Wait. Gotta take a whiff of my inhaler.

      Meeting you made all the difference in the trip to Salem. I don’t think I would have had (no, I know I wouldn’t have had) the memorable experience I took home with me. Forever etched.

      You touched on a key element in the life experience, and that’s emotional truth. Gotta get down and velveteen with it, with yourself. Be fearless. Then, strides are really made. After all, ever since you started tapping into that, you now KNOW you’re really a poor, peasant girl mentioned in an ancient prophecy as the One True Queen of Everything.

      Thanks again, and I’m so proud of you and your new position at WU! Looks like a success! Cheers.



  58. Jan O'Hara on January 8, 2015 at 6:21 pm

    By the number and enthusiasm of your comments, I hope you’re gathering that your rave reviews at the UnCon reading–including mine–weren’t a one-off, Mike. Delighted to see you here, and not in the least surprised. T has good instincts.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:29 pm

      Jan,

      It was partly due to your pulling me aside that I even had the nerve to accept T’s invitation, or to really have the confidence in my writing that the Bedtime Stories experience gave me.

      That was my first reading, ever. It was me, live and in person, reading my own work, in front of all of you. YIKES! VULNERABLE. I appreciate the support from all of you. Thanks, Jan. :D



  59. Sevigne on January 8, 2015 at 6:42 pm

    Mike,

    I’m sorry to say, as someone with an MFA, I didn’t understand a word of your article. Kidding. (Not about having an MFA, but about not understanding. Also my MFA is not in writing but nonetheless I would advise practically everyone to save their money and use it to travel around the world for three years, and gain a hell a lot of life experience.)

    Life experience is, I am finding as I become older, the key to understanding the secret to just about everything in life. Funny how those two things go together…

    You are a perfect fit for the WU blog, and as Jan said, everything about the reading you did at UnCon screamed Natural Writer–even though you surely took your time to show your true colours, travelling the slow boat of engineering and architecture from China. (Of course, there are those ten years of care giving which, I have no doubt, gave you more experiences than you’ll ever have enough time to write.)

    I am looking forward to reading more of the story you began at UnCon and seeing more of your writing here. xxxs



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:39 pm

      Sevigne,

      Ha! I love your wry sense of humor. :) It brings a warm smile to these chilly lips. And I love your suggestion of touring the world. It adds to that much needed life experience. We can’t spend our years looking no further than the tip of our nose, now can we? But as you said, a lot of this we don’t learn, save through the act of living, itself.

      Another highlight (I’ve mentioned a few in previous comments) of the UnCon was meeting you, seeing and experiencing the classy lady that you are. That’s something you can’t buy. It’s not even learned, in a sense, although it is. It’s more bred into you. And you have that grace. I felt like I was among royalty when with you. You just have that air. Or maybe it was the English accent. ;)

      Thank you so much for your support, both then and now. xxxm



      • Sevigne on January 11, 2015 at 6:10 pm

        Likewise, I am so glad to have met you in person after our various conversations online.

        It’s the English accent, Darling, or what’s left of it. Although, that said, I can see Zuli Souza, out of the corner of my eye, running off with my crown, and meowing something about using it to catch a mouse king. xxxs



        • ML Swift on January 11, 2015 at 10:26 pm

          I do swoon over that accent. <3



  60. Erin on January 8, 2015 at 7:07 pm

    Thank you for the honest post and for speaking directly to those whose self doubt is etched in the fine lines examined in the mirror each morning, in each email response as well as in the attempt to edit that third chapter for the twentieth time.

    Appreciatively,

    Erin



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:41 pm

      Erin,

      I absolutely loved the metaphor. I’m glad you got a boost. To the rainbow socks!



  61. C. Lee McKenzie on January 8, 2015 at 8:00 pm

    For just a while there I thought I was in for a list of the unattainable. MFW? Career with literary organization? Not likely.

    However, I could relate to those other sets of “have accomplished” and “must haves.” I was a terrific writer in the 4th grade. My mom saved the papers to prove it. And in college, there was no stopping the poetry after a few tokes. (I didn’t inhale.)

    Well, off to continue on the path of writerly endeavor. Glad I paused a moment to read your post. It made me feel quite successful.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:45 pm

      Lee,

      Hey! Thanks for swinging by. Now, would I give a list of the unattainable? Not in a million years.

      You’ve got quite the head start, and should already feel quite successful! At least I think you are! And maybe you should change your last name to McKenzie-Clinton. ;)

      Thanks again.



  62. Evangeline Sloane on January 8, 2015 at 8:13 pm

    We’re writers when we say we are! But, I agree with your list more than the other. My credentials look eerily similar to yours. Did you by any chance fail the “Moby Dick” semester in Mrs. Chadwick’s class too? (How I hate that book!)



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:50 pm

      Evangeline,

      Moby Dick was my Moby Dick. And it seems we had to memorize a poem called Evangeline, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, if memory serves. Lovely name and lovely poem. Thanks for your comment.



  63. Pauline Yates on January 8, 2015 at 9:03 pm

    Okay, you have me hooked. I love the way you sound so real. Like I could be sitting right next to you, listening to you talk. Although I think you should have put your third point at the top. For you, anyway. I look forward to more of your posts.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:54 pm

      Hey, Pauline,

      LOVED your comment. It’s refreshing to know I sounded so real, seeing as though I’m a real person on the other side of this keyboard. I passed the CAPTCHA test and everything. ;) But I know what you mean. I try to write in a relaxed way—but not how I speak…that would be atrocious and too hard to follow. Glad you liked. And thanks for the nice words.



      • Jo Eberhardt on January 9, 2015 at 11:30 pm

        Also, it’s so hard to write in Southern… ;)



        • ML Swift on January 10, 2015 at 7:37 am

          What in tarnation? When’d this pop up? But yer darn tootin’. Writing in Southern calls for way too many ‘postrophes for my likin’. I end up soundin’ like Jim in Huck Finn.



  64. Carol Baldwin on January 8, 2015 at 9:27 pm

    YES to your SIX. I agree with every single one of them. Probably because I don’t want to go the MFA route and love to hear another writer give me permission not to have to do so.
    Thanks for your refreshing article and yes, love the socks too!



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 12:57 pm

      Carol,

      Isn’t it odd how we readily accept approval from another, just because he’s too obstinate to go that route, too? Haha! Misery loves company. But heck, we’re the risk takers. I was going to say ‘mavericks,’ but McClain and Palin ruined that word for me. Thanks for your comment!



  65. Sharon Bially on January 8, 2015 at 9:46 pm

    Hi Mike – Wow, I almost fell out of my chair when I read this! no gold bricks, just a sort-of ergonomic thing I’ve been sitting in for years. Although I’m guilty as charged of having penned the piece about writer’s resume’s, I agree 110% with what you said here!! Please know that to every so-called rule in this zany writing world there are many exceptions, and indeed the most important trait for any writer is pure ability and something real to say. Just recently I read the breathtaking debut novel of my 72 year-old friend EB (“Liz”) Moore, which was signed by Penguin in a 2-book deal. Liz has almost none of the credentials I listed — just a 1-year stint in the Grub Street Novel Incubator class, which touts itself as an evenings-only MFA equivalent.

    In writing that piece about the resume, I was really hoping to call out a reminder to those folks on the other side of the publishing journey who are clamoring for high-level media attention. On a daily basis I need to talk people down from such expectations and I wanted to put it down in words somewhere where it could become a sort of resource for people trying to get there mind around that. But with media, too, there’s an exception to every rule… For example, Alzheimer’s is a very big news story these days, one that the media can’t seem to get enough of. Come talk to me when the book’s done? :-)



  66. Sharon Bially on January 8, 2015 at 9:49 pm

    PS, to all in this thread: I should probably also fess up that I’m personally in the “no-MFA” camp, as I wrote in the Writer Unboxed Facebook Group thread started by Jules Michaels on January 4. I only mentioned it in the list because the media loves a good MFA on that writer’s resume!



    • ML Swift on January 8, 2015 at 10:39 pm

      Hey Sharon,

      I went out of order and made a pit stop down here to: a) laugh at your line concerning the ergonomic chair. I’ve sat in those literal pains-in-the-ass and have fallen out a time or two, myself, and b) take the time to reassure you how much I appreciate your offerings to WU, especially the most recent. It gave me something to write about. :D But actually, I understood your message, yet walked away feeling a little down, as others must have (after all, I always say, “If I feel this way, someone else probably does, too.”). I wanted to take a different approach to the list in a “batten down the hatches, I’m going to make it, come hell or high water” way. I thoroughly agree that there will be obstacles ahead that wouldn’t arise if my background were different, but as in my article, I turn my weaknesses into strengths and get them to work for me. I’ll continue to look to you for your insider guidance! I truly appreciate all the opinions on this site. It’s why I love it so. Thanks for coming by and commenting, Sharon. And I do wish we’d had the opportunity to meet in Salem. So much to do, people to meet, hands of poker to play. ;)



  67. Tom Pope on January 8, 2015 at 9:59 pm

    Hey Mike,

    Humble + Brilliant + Fearless + Kind = Hilarious (and right on.)

    Or maybe it should be:

    Fearless + Kind + Hilarious + Humble = Brilliant.

    Do get those books out. (Write on!)



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 1:00 pm

      Tom,

      You must be a wordsmatician. ;)

      Thanks. You brought a wide smile.



  68. Kathy Waller on January 8, 2015 at 10:11 pm

    Great post.

    I don’t have an MFA (I do have an MA in English, which ensures I know how to tear novels and poetry apart and not put them back together, but not to write), or anything else on the first list. I do have a need to be heard, something to say (narrow life experience but contact in childhood with a lot of old people sitting on front porches who’d had plenty and liked to talk about it), a way with words (or at least a certain slant of thinking) that I don’t think is teachable, and the other things on your list, including, I hope, luck, PLUS a pair of socks exactly like yours that my husband gave me for Christmas, and which, it occurs to me, might be a good omen in the luck department.

    I also have the ability to write short, crisp sentences, but my MA in English taught me to construct long, tangled up sentences, so you’re lucky I didn’t toss in a smattering of semicolons, my favorite punctuation mark, which my critique partners don’t allow me to use. Furthermore, the long sentence in the first paragraph isn’t tangled up unless you have a short attention span, and long sentences are more fun to write. I do not write run-ons. I write comma splices, a form that in other writers’ work sets my teeth on edge, rarely and only when context demands.

    Well, enough about me. I like your socks.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 1:08 pm

      Kathy,

      Your comment sounded a little like my front porch sessions growing up in North Carolina. We’d sit out there with the old-timers and chickens, spitting watermelon seeds and telling a bunch of family stories just before taking a dive in the swimming hole.

      And the mere fact that you got a pair of these same socks for Christmas is a sign—a sign, I tell you. Go forth and say the sacred mantra: “To the rainbow socks!” Prepare yourself for a jolt. It can be a little unsettling at first.

      Thanks for the wonderful introduction to Kathy!



  69. Melodie on January 8, 2015 at 11:20 pm

    Oh, so witty! I can just see this pour out of you. Like you, I have a background in high school newspaper. I dabbled it in it in college too. But also like you, I chose to have an income, so I’ve taught middle school English for over two and half decades. I’m glad you’ve kept writing and hope we get to read more of you on WU. I recently found this blog. It’s a delight.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 1:16 pm

      Melodie,

      A pleasure meeting you, and welcome to WU! This site has everything, and what it doesn’t have, it knows where to find and can direct you there.

      Money. It’s all about making a living, isn’t it? Whatever happened to wealthy benefactors? I long for the days of Keats…without the tuberculosis.

      Thanks for your comment and the introduction. Make yourself at home. :)



  70. Kathryn Craft on January 9, 2015 at 8:32 am

    118 Comments? Well done! You may never even see mine but being slow on the uptake seems to be my trademark. It took me ten years of being a paid dance critic until I called myself a writer. What changed? I started journaling. It’s amazing how getting up early each morning and setting your thoughts down on paper—not for pay, or publication, but for self—that really makes you feel like a writer. Great post Mike, thanks!



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 8:55 am

      Kathryn,

      I saw from the ticker you had posted, so I made a point to come down here and say hey, lest you feel “forgotten.” ;) I’d never do that!

      I’ve journaled off and on throughout life…I was always a little scared writing my deepest and darkest for fear of someone reading it. But now, I journal all the time. Such a release getting it out of my head.

      Thanks for adding your thoughts, even if it had to be from way down here in the basement. :)



  71. Marta on January 9, 2015 at 9:35 pm

    Mike,
    I love that you mentioned two of my favorite Neils.

    I always wonder about things like talent and gift. It feels arrogant at best to say I have any such thing. But I have drive and perseverance. That’s something. I’ve got one book published. (Yay me!) Though there’s always that awkward moment when people ask me how it is selling. Well, at least it is out there.

    What does a writer need to succeed? All the things you said sound good. And a dash of luck.



    • ML Swift on January 9, 2015 at 11:20 pm

      Marta,

      They are two of my favorite Neils, too, and were so perfect for the example: topical news, respected in their industries, and same first name—The trifecta!

      Don’t you think that a propensity toward creating art constitutes talent, even latent talent? When we want to write, or draw, or paint, dance, sing, etc., when we are drawn to those this as entertainment for us, a way to pass the time, then I think whatever that passion is, is where your talent lies.

      Oh, and I even said a little luck. :) Thanks for coming by.



      • Marta on January 9, 2015 at 11:24 pm

        Ha! You did. By the time I got down to the comment box and thought about Neils, I forgot you’d mentioned luck. Well, maybe one needs two dollops of luck.



        • ML Swift on January 10, 2015 at 7:49 am

          Lol. I like that. TWO dollops is sure better than one! Thanks, Marta. :)



  72. Anna Read on January 10, 2015 at 11:38 am

    I’m very new to this world of writing, but I found this article really encouraging! I’ve got a long way to go to before I ever consider myself to be any good at writing (do writers ever really feel like they’re ‘good’?), but reading this makes me want to keep trying!

    Thank you!



    • ML Swift on January 11, 2015 at 10:55 am

      Anna,

      Welcome to WU! You know, if you’re new to the craft, this is the place to be. Of course, there are other sites, too, which you’ll discover, but you’re off to a good start.

      The adage practice makes perfect may sound trite, but it’s applicable to the things you want to make perfect, right? As Therese says, “Write on!” That’s the best way I know how to improve. Good to see you here, and thanks for the comment.



      • Anna Read on January 12, 2015 at 1:20 pm

        Thank you for responding! I will keep at it!



  73. Brianna on January 10, 2015 at 10:22 pm

    I don’t believe you need an MFA to succeed as a writer. If you want something badly enough, you’ll find a way to get it, formal education or not. I have a BA and an MA, but no MFA. I don’t need one to do what I do. Sure, the connections would be nice, but there are other ways to make connections.



  74. ML Swift on January 10, 2015 at 11:32 pm

    Hey, Brianna,

    That’s right! There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Maybe I can compile them into a coffee table book.

    It’s that desire, that need to drive you to be heard because you know you have something to say. You’ve adored words and phrases all your life, picking them up naturally, having a propensity and thirst for them. If you have those, the additional luck, and put in the hard word, then no man can stand against you. Good luck! Thanks for reading and commenting.



  75. Kelly Blackwell on January 11, 2015 at 12:04 am

    Of course I feel completely intimidated even writing a response, but Mike I just had to say thank you. You gave so much encouragement to me in this post. Writing has been in my heart from the moment I wrote my own stories in child-like hieroglyphics before I knew letters. I write because it is my love, my entertainment, my escape and my joy. I write because I have to, but so often I was told I shouldn’t.

    Thank you!



    • ML Swift on January 11, 2015 at 7:25 am

      Kelly,

      I hope, if nothing else, this post encourages you to find your voice and comment in venues such as WU and other places where the writerly sect hang out. Your response shows how much you have the desire to be heard, because you overcame your fears long enough to say, “Hey…I’m here.” That’s quite an accomplishment in itself. It can be scary to chime in. But, just as you were compelled to write those childhood hieroglyphics, you must be just as daring in this respect. Dare to be heard. You have something to say! Thanks for coming by, and even more so, for commenting.



  76. Chrys Fey on January 11, 2015 at 1:01 pm

    Desire and the willingness to fall down and get back up… I think those, out of all of them, are the most important. Many people like the idea of being a writer and say that want to be a writer, but what’s funny is that they don’t write when that’s all it takes. They like how it sounds because they think it’s glamorous but they don’t have any real desire to write. A writer always desires to write. And we all learn quickly that falling down is a huge part in getting published. We have to learn to get back up and try harder. Some would just give up, but a true writer never stays down for long. :)

    Thanks for visiting my blog, M.L.!



    • ML Swift on January 11, 2015 at 10:33 pm

      It’s the “grass is greener” philosophy, Chrys. Every other occupation looks fun and exciting if a person is trapped in a job they hate, or one that’s not really where their passions truly are. So, writers, chefs, carpenters, anything that seems “easy,” i.e., “All it takes is a pencil and piece of paper, right? How hard can it be?” Just because they know how to write a word (or boil water, hammer a nail) doesn’t a great story (or gourmet meal, or mansion) make.

      So yes, desire in the utmost. When, rejection after rejection, you still keep writing, that’s a pretty good sign. Thanks for coming by.



  77. Anita Stout on January 11, 2015 at 3:11 pm

    Love your article Mike. Though I’ve never met you I can tell I like you already. A LOT. You’ve got gumption and a good sense of humor. I have a feeling the world will hear a lot more about Mike Swift!



    • Sevigne on January 11, 2015 at 6:00 pm

      And he’s a very talented writer. Win. Win. Win.



    • ML Swift on January 11, 2015 at 10:42 pm

      Anita,

      Gumption. I’ll take that. I use that word whenever I can; it never gets enough airplay. Your comment actually reminded me of the scene in the old Mary Tyler Moore show where Mary meets Lou Grant:

      Lou: “You have spunk. I hate spunk.”

      But gumption…that’s a different story altogether. Thanks for your wonderful words. I hope your prediction is accurate! :D

      And Sevigne: <3 xxxm



  78. Liz Blocker (@lizblocker) on January 11, 2015 at 9:36 pm

    I LOVE THIS POST!!!

    Mike, I am so psyched to see you writing over here at Unboxed. This is so cool.

    Location aside, it’s vintage M.L. Swift: funny and punny, clever yet without being pretentious, humble and yet confident, wise, insightful, and entertaining; all around, a thoroughly enjoyable, perceptive, wonderful post.

    My positive take on this DOES have something to do with the fact that I meet (almost) none of the criteria on Sharon’s list but MOST of the ones of yours!!! ;)

    I will say that I sometimes regret the path I chose – the path that did not include an MFA and a teaching position – but other times I remember that I wouldn’t be who I am if I HAD taken that path. I’d be someone else, maybe wondering what it would be like if I’d done something different. Thank you for the reminder to like the self I am, MFA-less though I may be.



    • ML Swift on January 11, 2015 at 11:20 pm

      Lovely Liz,

      I’m glad to have enough under my belt for there to actually be vintage M.L. Swift (haha!), but I know what you mean. There for a while I was just going through the motions to keep the blog afloat, with no real substance, mainly author support via book releases. But things are pretty much back to normal and I’m feeling my vintage voice and donning my retro gear. Growing my hair long. Well, a little longer.

      I read a book called “The Secret of the Soul” which explores how the universe unfolds just as it should. The choices we make are for reasons known in that moment, but not in the big picture. Later down the line, for some of us, we find out. Yes, there is always a plan. Two other books along those lines (your life’s plan before you were born) are written by by Robert Schwartz: “Your Soul’s Gift” and “Your Soul’s Plan” I haven’t gotten into them yet, but they sound fantastic.

      Always examining what got me here, and how that trip will help my writing. Thanks for coming, Liz. :D



  79. Robyn Engel on January 11, 2015 at 10:11 pm

    I agree and couldn’t top that list. It’s about more than a desire to write. It’s about a need – one that flows through your blood vessels, from you head to your toes. On that note, excuse me if this is inappropriate to state, but I find ML Swift’s feet to be very sexy.



    • ML Swift on January 11, 2015 at 10:46 pm

      And big. Size 11. ;)

      Thanks for coming by, Robyn. I always love your way with words. Hope your year started of great!



  80. A.E. Albert on January 12, 2015 at 7:28 am

    You made my morning!! I thoroughly enjoyed reading your piece. But more than that, thank you. The truth is, your credentials are better then mine. The only letters after my name are A.E. Albert DTW. Desire to Write. Yep, that’s all I got. But I’m going with it. Nice to know I’m not alone.



    • ML Swift on January 12, 2015 at 8:50 am

      Hey A.E. Albert, DTW,

      Desire to write is as good as a PhD in my book. Keep at it, and as Therese encourages, WRITE ON! Thanks for coming by, and I’m glad to have provided a dose of encouragement this morning.



  81. David Richards on January 12, 2015 at 11:05 pm

    I don’t think there’s any one way of making it as a writer or even only three ways. As I travel along I realize advice is just advice and that author success is all just a crazy mushy mixy mash-up. Everyone works the thing differently.



    • ML Swift on January 12, 2015 at 11:31 pm

      Hey, David,

      While I agree that many paths lead to the writerly world, not all of them stretch to the Kingdom. By that, I mean, yes, anyone can be a writer—just write the words and put them out there—whether anyone will read them is a different story. There are things we can do to give us an advantage, and those are personal choices. I doubt I’ll be discovered sitting at the counter of Woolworth’s, twiddling my thumbs, so I’m doing the things I listed with the experience I have, which isn’t too different than a lot of us, and the advice given isn’t really out of reach for many.

      Advice is indeed advice, and I always advise taking what you need and leaving the rest behind. That’s what I do. May you find success whatever path you take. Thanks for reading and commenting.



  82. Morgan Shamy on January 13, 2015 at 12:01 am

    To the rainbow socks!!!!! Swift is one of my favorite people. He has so much heart and knowledge and passion. What a perfect post. I absolutely LOVED this. Very inspiring!



    • ML Swift on January 13, 2015 at 7:41 am

      Hey Red!

      Heart and passion I’ll own…the knowledge, well, that comes in doses. Very small doses. Microscopic doses. Dosie doses. Okay, it’s early and I’m being silly. Methinks meneeds more coffee. Thanks for coming by and supporting lil’ ol’ me. :)



  83. Sherry Marshall on January 13, 2015 at 5:49 am

    Wow. 181 responses so far! You sure are a successful writer. That’s because people read you and respond. That’s number 1 on the list of what every writer needs in my book. Thanks so much for the post.



  84. ML Swift on January 13, 2015 at 7:47 am

    Sherry,

    Thanks for your comment! The ability to relate to people is of utmost importance, is it not? To write all “heady” is not my style; I keep it simple whenever possible. Thanks again for reading and coming all the way to the basement to leave a comment. I appreesh!



  85. Chele on January 14, 2015 at 3:56 pm

    I now understand that what a writer really needs to succeed is whimsical socks… and I realise I own the same as you do. Maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong. I’m wearing the wrong socks.
    The battle cry of every writer out there: To the toe socks!

    Back on point, it was a wonderful article!



    • ML Swift on January 14, 2015 at 8:03 pm

      Well hello, Chele!

      Time to don those socks and join the party. There’s always a seat at the table…it’s like a Harry Potter tent—much bigger than it first looks. Believe me, putting those on and staring for three minutes, you’ll be entranced in whimsy! To the rainbow socks! Thanks for coming by and commenting.



  86. Baxter Clare Trautman on January 18, 2015 at 12:39 pm

    Phew – got scared when I saw the first six criteria – I like yours a a lot better. Thanks for the encouraging as opposed to discouraging words.



    • ML Swift on January 19, 2015 at 6:10 am

      Baxter,

      I’m all about taking what you already have and putting it to good use, improving what you can, but certainly not berating yourself for your lacks. Sharon made an excellent point in her article, but many (like me and you), just don’t have that background. Rather than throw in the towel, I just work that much harder. Write, write, then write some more (oh yeah, and read a lot!). Thanks for reading and commenting. :)