Guest Contributor, Ellen Dye

Selling When You’re Without A System
By Ellen Dye


Back in the fall of 2007 it seemed that absolutely everybody I knew had one. Literally.

Some were works of art, color-coded with bright sticky note tabs and highlighted with a rainbow of markers. Others were utilitarian tables sectioned off with clean black-lined blocks. All were amazing---and what’s more, all were working.

Of course, I’m talking about a system. A real, honest-to-goodness Writing System. And not wanting to be left out I promptly decided I just had to get one of my very own.

Why just the other morning I’d been hit with a Great Idea, and now that I’d been privy to the “Can’t Lose By Having A System” approach it seemed like unbelievable serendipity. Clearly the cosmos wanted me to succeed as a book length published author.

I arose at 4 a.m. the next morning to put my plan in motion. After a mere four shot cup of black espresso I managed to peck out a few lines. Well, progress can be slow; I bolstered my spirits as I switched off the computer an hour later and made my way upstairs, still blinking sleepy grit from my eyes, to wake my son for school.

A few hours later I drop Cubby with his Special Education Aide at school and prepare to sprint to my car and get back to work with my system blowing full bore.

Unfortunately, before I clear the front door I’m stopped by several school personnel.

One reminds me that the PTO play is in two days and asks if I have Cubby’s dinosaur costume ready. I nod, trying not to think about the many pieces of green fur cut out and waiting to be assembled that are currently scattered across my office and sewing machine. Two more people remind me of Cubby’s upcoming scholastic goals, which he’s not meeting. “Isn’t somebody helping with that?” I ask, and then duck my head as they solemnly say, “Yes, Mrs. Dye, that would be you.”

But still, I am determined, as I dash home, toss a stuffed mostly complete dino tail from my keyboard and fire up my computer.

Fifteen minutes later I’m staring at a blank screen after realizing what I’d written at 4 a.m. made no sense at all and deleting the lot. Eighteen minutes later I really have no idea why I thought my Great Idea was any good at all.

But that’s okay, because the phone is ringing. It’s Cubby’s therapy coordinator reminding me of the upcoming home visit she’s scheduled and also saying she needs to pick up his monthly paperwork. “Great,” I respond. “And when is this?” There was no amusement in her voice when she reminds me the meeting was scheduled for today, at four sharp.

Crap. Must clean house before she arrives and discovers we trudge daily through massive quantities of cat fur---very unhealthy for children. Oh, and must find paperwork---nope, I shortly discover, it’s must do paperwork.

It’s now time to run back to the school to pick up Cubby. I nod politely to various school officials who tell me of his day’s transgressions and also promise that he will not eat tonight’s homework. Finally I extract Cubby from beneath the cafeteria table with a bribe of ice cream at DQ.

As I’m driving, slurping away on a chocolate shake, I think that maybe my Great Idea did have some merit after all. Maybe it just needs a little tweaking...

Bolstered on four more ounces of black espresso I make it through the home meeting, get Cubby settled and take a step toward my computer. Cubby screams, “Mommy, I’m hungry!” Naturally I reverse direction and head toward the kitchen.

Suddenly I realize I have no idea what we’re having for dinner. This is bad. I’m a Mom, Moms are supposed to know this stuff. I frantically tear through the cabinets hoping a nutritious, fully prepared meal will appear. Unfortunately it doesn’t. Crap. Why do kids have to eat every day anyway?

I hastily pull together a much less than nutritious dinner, deeply thankful Cubby thinks tater tots are vegetables. Then follows the after dinner blitz of dishes, bath, homework, speech, reading and story. I’ve downed another four ounces of black espresso by the time I’ve tucked Cubby in and crawled back to my computer.

A scream echoes through the house before my fingers make contact with the mouse. I dash to my son’s room and throw open the door. “Dino costume!” he screams.

My espresso-addled mind vaguely remembers hearing this somewhere before...

And so it went for the remainder of the week with my Writing System. Cubby gained a delightfully fuzzy, bright green dinosaur costume which he wore while giving a stellar performance as a Trick or Treater. And I lost the ability to fasten the top button of my jeans---those shakes do add up. But I hadn’t managed to write a single coherent line of prose.

So, with the loss of my lovely system I decided to return to my old system. Namely, “Carry A Notebook And Scribble Like Mad Whenever You Can”. I wrote while waiting in grocery store lines. I scrawled notes in the car on the off days where I arrived five minutes early for after school pickup. And, little by little, I eventually scribbled out and typed up my novel.

And, interestingly enough, an emailed query lead to a reply from an editor which eventually led to a contract for that very novel in my mailbox.

So, if like me, you have troubles getting a Writing System in place in the midst of your crazy life, don’t despair. You’ll get that contract, even if it comes just a few jotted sentences at a time.

Three’s The Charm, Ellen Dye’s first novel from The Wild Rose Press was released electronically August 22, 2008 and will be in print November 28, 2008. Visit anytime http://www.ellendye.com/