Our Diary

Ipuna Estavillo Black, PhD, MSN, RN, MFA recently signed with her first literary agent—after more than a decade of pursuing creative writing. Earlier this month, Madison Utley spoke with Ipuna about what drew her to writing in her thirties, how she kept at it amid competing demands and through bouts of discouragement, and the one piece of advice she has for writers struggling to stay motivated.

MU: To start, can you tell us when you began pursuing creative writing in earnest?

IB: I was always a reader, but I was never one to declare “I’m going to be a writer” when I was three years old. My mom was an immigrant from Korea. I saw her sacrifice and how hard she worked to make a living, so my focus was on creating a career for myself. I didn’t give any time to thinking about my dreams. 

I love the direction I chose in nursing. But the extreme research-based learning I did in my PhD program could be quite dry, and made me aware of the lack of creativity in my life at that stage. I was in the final trimester of my fourth (and last) pregnancy at the time and it was getting difficult to do my daily run, so I decided I’d rededicate that time in the morning to writing a book–and I did so in three months. That was 2012. 

MU: How’d you land on a full-length book as the ideal vehicle?

IB: When I was younger, I was an avid reader but I had lost that sense of wonder; I wanted to get it back. A few years earlier, after my Masters but before my PhD, I had taken a creative writing class at the local community college. I thought that would be enough to push the urge to be creative down again. I was wrong, and so I decided writing a book might do the job. I had no idea how to write a book, or even what a scene was, or how to tell a compelling story. Like at that point, I thought editing meant checking for grammar. 

At the end of the three months of writing, I Googled how to get an agent and Stephenie Meyers’ story popped up. She had written Twilight over three months and then queried 15 agents, and the one she signed with was from Writers House. I assumed that was normal. I had no writer friends so I was like, “Great!” and I also queried 15 agents. I heard nothing back; not even rejections. That’s when I realized I didn’t know what I was doing. 

MU: Is that the point where you pursued more formal assistance?

IB: That’s when I decided to attend my first writing conference where I met Stuart. He led a session on editing which made me realize how little I knew about the writing world. At the end of his session he said, “Does anybody have questions?” I didn’t have a question. I had no idea what to even ask. 

Stuart ended up being the first person to help me with editing. My manuscript was terrible and needed a lot of work, but he did the best he could with big picture items. He found the perfect balance of giving constructive feedback that was very specific and useful, while keeping things feeling positive. I remember how much he loved the word “awkward” whenever things were off. I always knew if I was on the right track with what I was doing when I’d get the least amount of awkwards in the margins. He was careful to never crush my spirit though, and I felt like I could really learn from him. 

After that, there were years and years of editors and agents, conferences and learning, pitching and reworking manuscripts, writing whole new manuscripts. I’ve never been afraid to put myself out there. I always thought: how am I going to learn if I don’t get feedback? I’m not scared of failure and I’m not scared of rejection. When you’re in academia, like in my PhD program, you get a lot of feedback. You’re always sharing your work, your research writing. You’re always critiqued. So I was used to that, and I used every opportunity to connect with somebody who could make me better. 

MU: Education seems to have played a large part in your life, both with your nursing career but, eventually, also with your writing. Can you tell me more about that?

IB: I learned so much about the industry through all of my experiences, but eventually I did end up getting my MFA from University of Nevada, Reno in Creative Writing, Writing for Children and Young Adults through a low-residency, mentorship-based program. I finished my YA manuscript–a story of a high school hurdler in 1995 Las Vegas navigating her mother’s Korean War trauma–that secured my agent with the assistance of my four mentors. Together, they helped me hone my voice and identify the heart of my story, while also preparing me for the marketing component of pitching. 

When I did start querying, I felt like I was at a high self-esteem point. I knew my story, I knew my voice, and I felt good about it. I got 12 full requests, slowly, over time. From there, I got two really detailed feedbacks on the manuscript. And then, one offer from Sandra Proudman at Gallt & Zacker. I’m very happy with Sandra. She gets my writing and she gets my story. So it was a very long road, but I do feel like I learned from every person who I was connected with along the way. 

MU: Did you consider stopping at any point over that time?

IB: For a lot of those years I was working full time, getting degrees, having and raising kids. But in the beginning, it was fun, even though I had to work to carve out the time to write. I was like, “Writing is calling me! This creative energy is calling me! I must listen!” But doubts did start to creep in. I wondered if it was a waste of time, and if I should be focusing my energy on more practical things. But I didn’t stop. Every positive piece of feedback or promising connection that would happen would give me just enough hope to take the next step. Eventually though, it was pure grit keeping me going and I was exhausted. I was a decade in at that point, asking myself, “What am I doing?” But the MFA tipped me over; if I hadn’t done that, I don’t know where I’d be. 

MU: What would you say to your fellow writer who has been toiling at this for years and years, and is still waiting for their breakthrough moment?

IB: You have to find a way to make it fun. That’s what made all the difference for me. I’m a very goal-oriented person. A checklist kind of person. I even cut back at work and went part time for a period to meet my rigid page goals. I thought if I just kept investing more time and more energy, then I’m going to make it. But I eventually realized the more negative pressure I put on myself, the worse my writing got. It made my words stiff and forced and I hated it. I took a step back for a spell, but I never considered quitting.

The thing is if you truly want to write, the writing will never quit on you. You will be composing stories in your head, a character will come to you, you’ll dream about something you need to write about. At least for me, it didn’t feel like this desire was going to let me go. I also realized it’s the same thing I tell my kids with their sports; you can see when they’re trying too hard and they’re in their head, they play worse. So I stopped giving myself these crazy daily goals. I built writing into my schedule where it made sense, like longer chunks on the weekends, and that also gave me a chance to anticipate it. Rather than seeing it as a chore, it was something to look forward to. That shift helped the outcome matter less to me; because it was a source of fun and good in and of itself, rather than a means to an end, it brought me to a better mental space and made my life–and, ultimately, my writing–better.