Wherein Tracy Indulges in a Decidedly Unfunny WhineFest

What makes a book a keeper? If there were some magic formula for writing one every time, I would, of course, take it in a heartbeat. As long as I didn't have to sell one of my kids or give up a kidney or be nice to Ann Coulter. Or jump into the spider tank on Fear Factor, because ... eeeeeeuw.

Lately, however, I've been wondering where I'm going as a writer. When I wrote Maximum Security, I knew it was the best I could do at the time. I obsessed about the partial for MONTHS, took about a year to write the book in my head, sold said partial to Harlequin, and spewed what was in my head on paper in six months.

Because I had the luxury of time to do that pre-writing that I find so necessary, I ended up feeling good about the first draft. I revised it, and then felt really good about it. Sure, I went through that period of sheer and utter hatred, where I told my friend Sue that this was it, I was done as a writer, the book was sewer sludge, and Intrigue was going to demand their advance back. But a few months later, I went back and reread the revised manuscript after letting it sit for awhile, and I decided it was officially Not Bad. (My appreciation of my own work goes on a scale from Looking for a Bus to Throw Myself Under to a very pleased Not Bad, so this is a great thing.)

The book won a few awards, and a handful of people told me it was up on their keeper shelves. THAT was the best praise I've ever, ever gotten. Ever.

However, I never got to the Not Bad stage with the three books in the "Mission:Family" series, and it has been nagging at me lately. Sure, I've got excuses. I wrote those books with a new baby underfoot, in a foreign country with an impending move back to the US breathing down my neck, and child care only two days a week so I could concentrate on both work and writing for a few hours. But do readers know that or care? No. All they know is that I put out three more books, and they have to decide whether those three books were good enough to warrant spending more money on future books of mine. Excuses are useless. All that matters is the work.

My friend Dana Marton is working on the coolest three-book series for Intrigue right now. Although I thought her opening was awesome, she's ripped it apart three times now, at least, and I've loved it more every time. Every time I glance at a book from the Mission series, I wish I'd followed Dana's example more. And when I get a nice compliment from someone about the books, my first impulse is to apologize. Because while the Mission series was the best I could do at the time, it wasn't the best I could do, period. (I probably shouldn't be admitting that in public, but let it never be said that I don't suck at self-promotion!)

The hardest thing right now is that while I'm working on Renegade Ridge, I'm worried that I can't do it again. (I know, cry me a river--you're published. But just go with me here--the neurotic behavior doesn't stop with the magic contract.) I want to churn out another Maximum Security, a book that represents the very best I can do, ever. A book that earns a coveted spot on a few readers' keeper shelves. But I'm worried that I won't have time, that life and writing are just tooooo haaaaaarrrrrrrrrd with two kids and a husband who has to be hit over the head with the vacuum hose multiple times to start cleaning anything, that I've lost my mojo, ad nauseum, ad infinitum. I hate everything I'm writing, I feel stressed out, whine, whine, whine. And I could get ready for Renegade Ridge's release by churning out more excuses, but in the end, they just don't matter. All that matters to a reader is the work.

Sorry, you all. I think I'm in suffering from a lack of peanut butter M&Ms or something. I'm even driving myself nuts today.

You know, I have this feeling that at this moment, I'm not a gajillion-books-a-year kind of writer. Ideally, at this moment, I'd be like Jeffrey Deaver and would take a year to research and really get into my book, then crank it out once it's fully realized in my head and send it to the publisher with the awesome feeling that it's Not Bad. Can I ever get that kind of time luxury with Intrigue? Probably not--the editors want three books a year, at least, and I agree with them--when your book is only out for a month, you need to do something to keep your name out there.

My hope is that if I keep pushing myself and writing books at a faster pace than I'm comfortable with--especially once I send Marin to day care this fall--my abilities will catch up, and it won't take me so long to complete a manuscript that's Not Bad. I'm contracted to do three books for 2007, and since the deadlines are spread apart and not back-to-back as they were for the Mission series, my goal is to get all three to Not Bad status. I WILL do it. I will, I will, I will.

To all of you sweet people who comment on here from time to time, PLEASE NOTE that I am NOT fishing for compliments. I'm not searching for a bus at the moment, so let's just pretend that the Mission series doesn't exist right now. But whether you're under a deadline or not, I'd love to know if you've ever experienced this kind of feeling (I'm guessing yes), and what you do to snap out of it.