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Writers often hear the advice, “Know your audience.” Meaning know who you are writing for—and write accordingly.
Well, as a writer there are actually two audiences. The audience who will read your work–the readers; and those you hope will offer a contract for it—agents and/or editors (who, of course, take into consideration the readers).
The agent/editor audience I write for is stuffed. And not in the slang sense. They are literally stuffed.
There’s Little Bear, and Big Woolly, and Koalie, and Polar Princess, and the nameless one with the pink hat. There’s Duckie and Lamb and Griz.
When I’m stuck writing, beating my head against the desk and cursing that I chose not to become a professional wallpaper hanger or pastry chef, my stuffed agent/editor audience helps.
I address them like I would a team of coworkers and managers. As if I were in a meeting: proposing a plan of action, arguing my plot, soliciting advice.
Well, kind of. I donated my menagerie to charity when I moved west (all except Little Bear)—figuring it was selfish to keep them on the payroll as agents in my writing career when they could be enjoying life snuggling with a child. So my communication is directed at a photo. One I took of my plush colleagues lined up on the sofa before I deposited them in a basket at the door of Goodwill.
That photo is my agent/editor writing audience.
Sounds corny, but it works. Staring into the beady eyes of stuffed animals does a lot to bolster confidence. They’re tough—very tough–but also cuddly. They’re hard to maintain eye-contact with, but soft and forgiving. They demand the best in me. They unnerve me. So I do my best to deliver.
If I can’t convince Little Bear or Duckie or Griz that my plot is engaging and the characters have enough motivation and conflict to drive the story, how on earth can I convince someone with less stuffing but a real pulse?
I’m grateful for my stuffed audience. They keep me working. And when I receive a rejection in the mail—it hurts, no lie—I can look at their photo and get all sorts of virtual warm-fuzzy hugs. Yeay, that. I can feel the fur.
