Heather Webb is the author of historical novels BECOMING JOSEPHINE and RODIN’S LOVER, which have sold in six countries and have been featured in the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Cosmopolitan, Elle, France Magazine, and more, as well as received national starred reviews. RODIN’S LOVER was a Goodreads Pick of the month in 2015. Up and coming, THE PHANTOM’S APPRENCTICE, a reimagining of The Phantom of the Opera from Christine Daaé’s point of view, releases in May 2017. LAST CHRISTMAS IN PARIS, an epistolary love story set during WWI will release in October 2017 from HarperCollins. Heather is also a professional freelance editor, foodie, and travel fiend.
Website: www.HeatherWebb.net
Twitter: @msheatherwebb
FB: https://www.facebook.com/Heather-Webb-Author-124095350992513/
Instagram: @msheatherwebb
What is most difficult about writing?
Doing it. The hardest part is always in the doing. I generate ideas like crazy and adore researching and analyzing and synthesizing. But the drafting is downright painful for me—it’s an intensive active phase during which I’m churning with restlessness. A genesis, if you will, and that’s a very uncomfortable place to “be”. This is why I surround myself with critique partners and other good friends who write. We understand each other and cheer each other on toward our goals. It helps keep me focused on all that “doing”.
What is your philosophy of failure?
An interesting question, really. I see my philosophy evolving the longer I write and the longer I work with publishers. Writers (and creatives) are full of ideas—lots of them. It’s impossible for publishers to buy everything we write, to get on board with everything we love. There simply isn’t enough time or resources, or consumers for that matter. Some concepts will strike a chord and some won’t. But regardless of what happens with our books the moment they leave our desks, it’s our job as writers to keep developing stories that mean something to us on a deep, intangible level. It’s our job to explore and to push boundaries. We must weave our hurt and angst and hope and despair into stories so that others can relate to the characters that carry these messages, that speak to people. These are the stories that will succeed. And those that don’t on a public level, feed our creative souls.
Writers write. It’s what we do. Rejection is like death and taxes—expected and also a certainty. It wounds us, but that shouldn’t change our love of writing or our NEED to make sense of the world through the eyes of our characters. Those wounds, instead, should only drive our need to create more powerful and urgent.
What is the biggest mistake you have made as a writer?
It comes from book launches, actually. I’ve spent too much time, energy, and money scheduling public appearances. They’re fun, but they don’t really sell books unless you have a very strong anchor to a place, or there’s a particular group that is associated with one of the topics in your novel.
In terms of craft, my biggest mistake is creating rules for myself. These rules have helped shape my process and helped me to achieve, but as I grow and expand, I find these rules are now hindering my progress and forming boundaries where they don’t need to be. I’m currently busting through them with a sledge hammer.
What is the biggest mistake you have made as a person?
Oh, Lord, this is a hard one. Selling myself short? Maybe it’s trying too hard to please people. As I age, I feel myself doing less and less of that “pleasing others” bit. Instead, I’m following my gut and my heart more. I hope this means I’m growing.
What is your best failure story?
My best failure story is NOT signing with an agent I thought I really, really wanted. When I submitted my first novel to her, she read it and said I should “rewrite and resubmit” it, which was encouraging overall in that she found a lot that was good in the pages. I must admit, though, I was devastated at the time. I thought the book was ready and I as I mentioned, she was the rock star agent I wanted. But something happened. As I worked on it the next seven months, I read a lot of the books this agent represented. They were very flawed, thin, and not at all the direction in which I wanted to go. I realized I didn’t want this sort of agent at all. I wanted someone with a keen editorial eye; someone who wouldn’t try to sell a book that wasn’t as strong as it could be. In short, I landed exactly where I should have. I learned that what we want isn’t the same thing as what we need.
I have another, much bigger “best failure” story, but that’s still in the making…
