The key is to write every day. Don't leave your writing to the whim of a muse. That incremental, noticeable progress will never happen if you only write when you're inspired. Write when you can for as long as you can. Write when you're sick. Write when you're tired. Write when you have nothing to write about. Write junk.

Writers write.

Then they re-write; usually more than once or twice.

Passable stuff can sometimes be made pretty good. Pretty good can become good. Good can always be made better.

It's work and there's nothing glamourous about it but it's hugely important. Very, very few writers are gifted enough and lucky enough to sell a first draft. Save yourself a lot of grief. Don't pretend you're one of them.

OK. You've slaved over a piece until you're sure it sparkles. You're among the 15% or so who have made it to this point. You pop it into an envelope along with your SASE, address it to your favourite pub and start dreaming about what to do with that cheque when it inevitably arrives.

Enjoy that dream. We all do. Experienced writers enjoy it for about 10 seconds. Inexperienced ones will milk it for weeks; until the form letter rejection arrives.

This is the point where a lot of the surviving 15%, often talented writers, give up. Usually not with the first rejection; that one is expected by most of us. But the 13th, or 33rd, or 300th puts an end to their dream. Often it's not because their writing isn't good enough. It's because they didn't pay enough attention to the third part of the equation I mentioned above: art/craft/business.

Yep. More work. And it's a pain in the rear. But learning the business part of writing increases your odds of being published a hundredfold. Do so and you have a good chance of becoming one of the 5% or so who left the starting gate, who can make a dollar or three at writing.

Consider the publishing world as a large neighbourhood, a warren of twisty-turning, maze-like streets. You need as detailed a map as possible to get where you're going. Finding the "Fiction" neighbourhood isn't enough to successfully flog your short story or novel. Your map has to show you the exact houses which might be receptive to your work.

Then you need to study those particular houses for peculiarities. One insists you ring the doorbell. Another won't respond unless you knock. The third only receives through a slot in the side door.

Mix those instructions up and the manuscript you worked on so laboriously may well be returned unread; accompanied by one of those oh-so-cherished "sorry, not for us" notes.