“Keep your day job,” was the working title for The Forest for the Trees. In fact, it’s the title I sold the project with. Obviously, what I meant was that you can’t expect to make a living from your writing alone. The percentage of writers who do is infinitesimal. The title was too negative and no longer reflected the book once I finished it, but there’s something in that title that I want to talk about.
I’m assuming many readers of this blog work full time jobs and write “on the side.” That would describe me. I think I may be less frustrated than many because my “day job” involves what I love most: writers, writing, books, editing, etc. But it’s still really difficult to turn off the job and indulge my own creative impulses. This is why I’m one of those pre-dawn writers. I work best before anything or anyone else crowds my brain.
When I worked at Simon and Schuster, there was an assistant who will go unnamed (Rick Moody) who reputedly wrote most of his first novel in his cubicle. The rest of us were outraged that he “could get away with that.” In truth, I was deeply envious that he could put his work first, that he had to. God knows I’ve been writing my whole life, my first diary dates to age 8. And I did put my writing front and center when I got my MFA. I can still recall having my poetry collection spread out on the floor, pacing in my bathrobe, rearranging the collection for days. Oh, that was heaven. But since then, I’ve worked full-time. In other words, I have not quit my day job.
What I’m asking is: if you have a day job, are you in agony where your writing is concerned?
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Just in time for the holiday I most hate, here are some bites from this week’s round up in 
My editor called today to say that she liked the work I did on the revision for The Forest for the Trees. Especially the ending. I no longer thought it worked, too overblown, but I kept moving paragraphs and sentences around like the wheel of a combination lock, hoping they would click into place if I got each sentence lined up just so. Finally, I scrapped it and started fresh. I think doing that is almost always the best solution to pages that have been over-worked.
When I pitched my first project, I developed a rash that did not abate until I sold it. The rash went from my hand up to my upper arm. The same thing happened with the next, and the next, and the one after that. My husband feared that all my commission was going to the dermatologist. (All but for that one little pair of Prada Maryjanes, that is.) Fast forward ten years. Here I am pitching two books today and my skin is positively glowing.
Betsy Lerner 
