You've finally finished that novel that nobody--including yourself--believed would ever get done. You've gotten it typed up, copied, proofread, and sent it off in the mail to that Big Publisher in the Sky (pledging your first-born for the return postage). All you have to do now is to sit back and wait for the royalty checks to come in. It's only a matter of time till you hit the bestseller list. Right?

Wrongo, keyboard-breath. It may be longer than you think before you sign that standard rich and famous contract--a lot longer. So instead of walking around in a daze for the next six months or years or whatever, here's a few things to do besides chewing your fingernails. Besides, they don't even taste good after the first month.

One. Get reacquainted with your family and friends. They will undoubtedly be happy to see you back from far-off Chicago, Paris, Jupiter or wherever. True, you probably functioned adequately even during the rush of the last few chapters--but were you really home during any of it? (I do recommend keeping a family picture nearby while writing, if only so you'll recognize everybody.)

Two. Re-establish your knowledge of the Wide World of Mundania. Surely you recall all that fuss people were making about some silly earthquake? No doubt you will discover things in your day-to-day life that will remind you why you started writing in the first place. After all, reality is a crutch for people who can't handle True Romance.

Three. Catch up on your correspondence (especially the letters with overdue statements in them). Writers often acquire pen/typer/computer pals. The pile you've neglected is either whimpering softly or nipping at your ankles by now. I'm sure all your friends will be delighted to hear you've finished your novel. Now they can counterattack with ideas for their novel. Be patient. They listened to you, didn't they?

Four. Reread the manuscript after a week or two. Your sterling words will have accumulated many typos and errors (spellcheckers don't get everything), that obviously weren't in there when you finished. I lean towards a theory of spontaneous generation, myself. This way, if your epic is viciously rejected by unenlightened savages, you can fix it before it goes out again.

Five. If and when your splendid tale does come back, have a name or two or five to send it out to again. Manuscripts hiding in desk drawers are rarely published, at least while you're alive. Besides, they tend to brood and send out bad vibrations to any writer that neglects them so. The ones that are too frightened to do anything but cower under the bed eventually get fed up and start breeding spiders, if only to stave off boredom. It is not true they turn into pressboard if kept for too long. However, do you really want to spend all your spare time fending off recycling fanatics? You're better off just sending them out again. Manuscripts like to travel, too!

Six. Keep track of where you sent your novel to, and when. You may write friendly, brisk reminder notes every few months if you think the publisher is using your manuscript for a doorstop or has gotten it bronzed by mistake. But be a squeaky wheel without being a pest. Most editors' desks look like the foundation for a portion of the Great Wall of China. It may take a professional search and rescue team to save them when they go looking for your stuff.

Seven. Don't spend all your time worrying about that project. Find some interesting occupation to take your mind off the daily arrival of the mail (depending on how attractive the mailperson is). For instance, what would a search and rescue team find at the bottom of your desk?

Eight. Have some other project all ready to go as soon as you recover from post-novel letdown. It's difficult to worry over that epic even now plodding across the continent when you have a two-week deadline for "Sewer Systems I Have Known and Loved".

Nine. You don't have a project lined up? What are query letters for? Remember all those ideas you got for a different ten book series when you were back in Chapter 5? The writing skills you honed on the novel should show up in creative letters, or at least increased typing speed. Pick a favorite subject you have long wanted to rant to someone about, focus same to a particular magazine's needs, and watch what happens.

Ten. Who are those strange people showing up in your dreams? And why are they bothering you with their personal problems? Be sure to speak to that young man bleeding all over the carpet, if only to get him to move to the tiled floor in the kitchen. Before you know it, you'll be back at the old word-processing stand (typewriters for Orthodox, computer for Reformed). I'm sure your friends and family will understand. They did last time. I hear that Hong Kong, New York, and Saturn are very nice this time of year. Have fun!

Copyright © 1995 by Jean Lamb. All Rights Reserved.