Storygeeks.com Blog-O-Rama

R.L. Stine Tweets a Horror Story

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 21:23:00 +0000

In 2010 I posted a blog on the phenom called "Twitter-lit" (Twitter-Lit: Pushes to Become Real Lit!). Well, it seems that some name authors are still playing around with this form and entertaining their fan base.

R.L. Stein, author of the famous Goosebumps series, just tweeted a short horror story to his 45k followers. GalleyCat compiled the tweets below:

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Posts:

"When Amber Dyson and her family moved into the new house, they soon discovered something odd in the kitchen. The room was warm..."

“...and toasty, except for a slender shaft of cold air near the sink. No one could figure out where the beam of cold air came from...

“...Amber's family learned to step around the cold air. One morning, she sat at the counter. She watched her mother step into the beam...

“...of cold air. Amber heard a THWOCK. Like something being sucked into a vacuum cleaner hose. To her horror, the air seemed to part...

“...Her mother stepped into the hole and vanished. The hole closed. Amber screamed. She ran to the beam of cold air. But it was only air...

“Amber's mother was gone. Her father and brother came running. They were overcome with grief. They didn't want to admit what they knew...

“The air shaft was a doorway to another time. Grief stricken, they sold the house to a nice family with three kids. "This house is...

“..."perfect," the new owner said. When the Dysons moved out, they wished the new family good luck. But they didn't tell them...

“...about the small problem in the kitchen.

(and there is more at ... R.L. Stine)
Via Jasonboog, Galleycat

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So ... do you have a little story in you to tell? You'll get instant feedback for sure, so might be worth a crack!

Now, go be brilliant.

Thanx Writers Junction for a Successful Workshop!

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 04:36:00 +0000

How to Use the 7-Step Development Process to Develop and Test the Perfect Premise Line: Saturday, February 11, 2012
at the Writers Junction, Santa Monica, CA.

Great Turnout, great participation, great fun for all.

I will be following up with more classes and workshops, so stay tuned.

The Writer’s Dream: An Agent and a Deal—Part II

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 21:27:00 +0000

In part one of our adventure, I shared that I was inches away from realizing “the dream.” Lit agent lined up and fired up, publishers in the wings as likely buyers, visions of deals and bookstores and midnight book launches with lines around the block. Okay, the last one not so much, but the other two were solid. Then, the news: my author platform was weak.

For those who don't know what this is, there are many wonderful posts on the Internet by authors who have written on the subject, not to mention numerous consultants who will help you set up a platform for a fee. In a nutshell, an author’s platform is your marketing web presence and social media infrastructure. These two things combine to help you sell your books to readers. A typical platform has the following pieces: author website, online store, author blog, video-book trailer, per click advertising, social networking (Twitter, Facebook, etc.), podcasting, e-newsletter, e-article marketing, and other inbound marketing partnerships that link your platform to other platforms, etc.

The agent told me that I had a great product and it was salable, but I was not salable due to my shaky platform. I had the infrastructure, but my numbers were bad. Traditional publishers, these days, have reduced budgets for marketing and promotion of their authors; consequently a first-timer is not likely to get any marketing help from a publisher. Pubs prefer to make deals with writers who have their platforms in place, and strong, before they publish the book. Big-name authors still get the old treatment (media support, public relations, book tours, etc.), but not the average Joe-Jane writer. Those days are over.

“Okay, fine,” I told my agent. “What kind of numbers do I need to have to be ‘salable’?” Her response was, “To put it bluntly, you need more zeros.” Sigh. I know writers with great platforms. They have thousands of followers, thousands of subscribers, thousands of fans and friends. They took years of working the Internet and publishing multiple books to build up their followings. My puny hundreds just didn’t stack up—too few zeros. It was sounding like I was suffering from the cart-before-the-horse syndrome. Before I could sell anything, I needed the people ready to buy, but before I could get them to want to buy, I needed something to sell. Yes, if your head is about to explode, join my club.

The agent wanted to go for it and spin-doctor my proposal to make me more attractive. I suspect, if I had agreed to jump on board, she would have pulled it off and gotten me a publishing deal. But, the business facts weren’t adding up for the way of the dream. If I took a traditional publishing deal, I was looking at these facts:

It would take me at least eight months to write the book.
If I went with a traditional publisher, it would be at least a year, after delivery, before there was a book in a bookstore.
Between the writing and the publishing cycle, it would be almost two years before I’d have a book to sell.
I needed product now to support my growing writing seminar business; I couldn’t wait two years to have products to sell attendees.
It would take me at least a solid year of self-marketing to build up my platform to respectable numbers.
If I signed a traditional deal, I would get less than 8% royalties for print books and around 25% for digital rights.
With a traditional publisher, the book could go out of print in a year and there’s nothing I could do about that.
There would be agent fees.
Bookstores would take my book and I would not have the headaches of returns.
I could get real reviews for the book.
If I wanted my book in bookstores I'd need a publishing deal.
I would lose rights, especially digital rights—for years.
There would be little or no support for promotion, marketing and sales.
I would have to do all the heavy lifting to create the market for my book.

If I self-published, the following facts were present:

I would have to do all the heavy lifting to create the market for my book.
I would have to do the sales and marketing, even after there was a market.
I would have no agent fees.
I could get paid reviews for the book, but mostly these are useless.
I would retain all rights, especially digital rights.
Bookstores would not take the book, unless I entered into a wholesale deal with them large enough to support returns, which I would have to manage.
I could end up with 65–70% royalties on the digital side vs. less than 25% in a traditional deal.
Penguin, Houghton Mifflin and other pubs are moving into the self-publishing space, or distributing books from Amazon.
The number of online venues available to market and sell my book have grown exponentially in the last 12 months, and will grow exponentially more in the next 12 months.
I could have product to support my workshops in less than a year (actually just a couple of months).
I could do just fine without a bookstore presence. The biggest bookstore in the world is online.
I could possibly leverage any success for my book and land a traditional deal later down the road, if I wanted.
If I wanted hard copy of my book I could use the Espresso Book Machine, or work directly with a print-on-demand company like Lightning Source.

The conclusion came fairly quickly:

Authors with established readerships who opt-out of traditional deals (Barry Eisler, JA Konrath) can do so because they have a built-in market for sales, i.e., their established readers. Writers like me are starting from scratch (in that sense), so marketing is a much harder thing to pull off. This is why a traditional publishing deal is still the brass ring for first-time writers. There may be no financial backend, but the price of entry is worth it for the legitimacy of being published. Novelists, especially, find this road a godsend. Nonfiction writers, however, have to think twice before stepping onto that road. How-to and self-help are easier to sell and can find a readership more easily than fiction, and nonfiction is what keeps most publishing houses financially solvent.

So, knowing all this, I had to think hard about the facts bulleted above. No matter which way I went, I’d have to do all the heavy lifting in order to build up my platform and find my audience. And then, even after it was created, I’d have to do all the footwork necessary to sell my book. I could not afford to wait two years to have a book in hand; I needed product sooner than that to grow my business. In addition, I knew that digital self-publishing was finally coming of age and the stigma of self-publishing was quickly diminishing. I knew that the financial terms would benefit me on the digital side of the process both in the short and long runs. If I was publishing a novel, probably not, but I had a strong how-to book, one that credible people were telling me would pretty much sell itself.

My road was clear: self-publish.

I won’t (and can’t) claim that my process here is right for you or your book, especially if you write strong genre fare (crime, YA vampire/werewolf romance, etc.). But if you have a strong how-to or self-help book, you might want to think strongly along these lines. What is critical to realize here is that once a traditional publishing deal was a matter of professional life and death for ambitious writers. This is no longer the case. Traditional publishing is now just one more option a writer has available. Traditional publishing is one choice, in a long line of business choices, that we as entrepreneurs must weigh and consider as we build our brands and our businesses. Because that’s what we are doing, we are business people engaged in start-up activity. Even if this idea of being an entrepreneur is frightening to you, or overwhelming, or you just can't make that leap—no problem. You still have the choice to leap or not. A few years ago, that was not the case; you had no choice. Now you do!

As someone has already said, the publishing problem has been solved. And we are all the better for it.

Now, go be brilliant.

The Writer’s Dream: An Agent and a Deal—Part I

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 01:31:00 +0000

The dream of every writer has always been: get a New York lit agent and then get a publishing deal through that agent. The city matters; a lit agent in Kansas City just doesn’t have the same gravitas as a New York City lit agent—sorry. Anyway, this is the brass ring. Getting an agent and a publishing deal makes you an author, not just a writer. I have always held this dream for myself; like anyone, like everyone, who writes.

Would you be surprised if I told you I had both pieces of this dream in the palm of my hand … and then walked away? Would you be shocked and appalled if I told you I found a great agent who told me she loved my book proposal, thought I was brilliant, and felt super-confident she could sell my book—fast—and I still walked away? I can only tell you that you would be no more surprised, shocked and appalled than me, because I walked; I walked.

How the walking happened; the process by which I came to this crazy-ass decision (which I am very pleased with now, by the way) is a process worth sharing. It is worth sharing because I think thousands of writers are facing the same circumstances which were offered to me, and that my case is now more the rule than the exception. A year ago there would have been no debate, I would have gone the way of the dream. What a difference a year makes.

So, I asked a friend, who is a New York Times bestselling author, for an intro to an agent, or at least a recommendation for agents that might be interested in my book proposal, How Not to Write Your Self-Published Novel: The Missing Manual for Writers & Storytellers. My friend was Johnny-on-the-spot and referred me to her husband’s agent; a wonderful New York agent with a small but energetic lit agency.

I submitted my e-query; I followed all the detailed requirements for the submission process; I was sure to mention in the first line of the query email that I knew my friend and her husband. I hit “send” and waited with baited breath.

In short order I got a reply: the agent saw my friend’s referral in the first line of the email and decided she should read it. Normally, she told me, they just deleted queries from the queue, there’s just not enough time to read them. But, because I was smart and dropped some names in the first line, I made the cut and she read my email. And, she loved the idea of the book.

We began talking immediately and she enthusiastically asked for my proposal. She even told me that she knew several publishers that might be interested in my project. One, in fact, had contacted her an hour before we talked describing to her the kind of project he was looking for, and what he was describing was essentially my book. What luck! He also described the kind of author platform any prospective author might need to have in place in order to strike a deal with his company. The platform was critical. The platform was key. The platform, as I came to discover, was more important than the book! My very experienced friend told me that all this was a great sign; agents don’t engage a writer in this way unless they are strongly considering making a deal. Yay for me!

As I waited for a response on the proposal, I chewed on the idea that the only reason I was even talking to an agent was that I had name-dropped and had a network. If I hadn’t written that my e-query was a referral, I would have been deleted and consigned to email oblivion. How crazy was that? What a crap-shoot this process really ends up being. Nevertheless, in about two weeks, the agent responded back and reported that she liked the proposal, thought I was brilliant and was excited about the idea of the book and its prospects. There were just a few cosmetic changes she wanted to make to the proposal to make it attractive to editors. Whew, so far so good.

And then the bombshell, and I paraphrase: “I can sell the book, but I can’t sell you.”

The dream was slipping fast. I had to do a quick reality check: she loved the book, she thought I was giving great advice to writers, she felt confident she could find a publisher, but the weak link was the author (ME). Huh?! What was wrong with this picture? Well, what's wrong was that my author’s platform was too weak. I didn’t have the numbers. “But,” she said, “Let’s cobble together what we can and see what I can do.” Meaning, let’s start spinning your bio and platform infrastructure to try to generate some confidence in your ability to market the book and create a readership. The good news was she was still in my corner, willing to work with me and get creative on selling me to the publishers. The bad news was I had to get creative to sell me to the publishers.

So, we hunkered down to give the Emperor some new clothes. And I began wondering about the process: it’s not enough to have a good book; it’s not enough to be qualified to write that book; it’s not enough to have a good agent if you are a first-time author; you better have a platform, and not just any platform, you better have a strong one. But, what does that mean? How does that look? How do you know you’re ready and can dance the dance with a publisher? The dream, it seemed, now had three pieces: an agent, a publisher and an author platform.

It was at this point my thoughts began to move into the unthinkable; and I began dancing with the publishing devil. Oh, what a difference a year makes. Stay tuned for part two and the exciting conclusion!

Now, go be brilliant.

Prologue as Prelude to Shooting Writing Teachers!

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 02:44:00 +0000

Recently, I finished "guest teaching" at a well-known writer extension program here in Los Angeles. The class was an advanced novel writing workshop. The teacher, who lets me come and teach from time to time, is a master writer with an amazing skill set, and I always enjoy the experience. This time, however, something happened that truly threw me for a loop.

One of the students said something to me that nearly knocked me out of my chair. I had just answered a question about whether or not another student should use a prologue in her novel. And the writer came back with the statement, "Oh, I was told not to bother using a prologue. People aren't using them anymore because nobody reads them."

I asked, "Who gave you this piece of advice?"
"Oh," came the response, "One of the people at [writing program name redacted]."
"People" meaning someone teaching through the writers program.

(I'm not mentioning the program because my beef here isn't against them; they are fine people. My beef is against the bonehead who gave this advice.)

I was speechless, or more correctly, I was keyboardless. I literally couldn't type I was so astonished at the utter badness of this advice. If it had come from some writing hack over the Internet I'd have just sloughed it off and corrected the error. But no, this came from a writing teacher at a prestigious writing program. DON'T USE A PROLOGUE; NOBODY'S READING THEM ANYMORE! Really?

I know exactly from where this sentiment evolved. The teacher, up on all the hipster authors and new YA superstars and hipster trends from hipster agents at all the hip new publishing companies saw that all these hip people were not using prologues—thus the new flavor of the month writing rule: no more prologues; the hipsters don't write them anymore.

I want to just go running, screaming down the hall when I hear this s@#t. I read almost 300 manuscripts a year. Most of them are genre (suspense, thriller, horror, mystery). Almost all of them try to use prologues, but fail only because they don't know what a prologue is or what it's supposed to do. Those who don't use them do so only because they don't know that they could, or should.

Let me be clear: this is no trend. This is no form of advice worth listening to; this is crap! A prologue is not a trend, it is a literary device used to enhance the opening of a story. The writer chooses to use one (or should do so) based on whether it will work with the story and genre, not based on some mythical statistic that readers aren't reading them anymore (and who tracked that little factoid anyway?).

Here is my prologue speech that I give writers who don't know a prologue from a steak sandwich:

" The prologue in a novel is the opener, the bang, the teaser that sets the tone and context for the introduction of the hero-heroine. If you look at any well-known genre author, most of them use prologues in their stories to set up the action. In mysteries the prologue is where the first murder occurs and the reader “watches” this happen, in a suspense story the prologue is where the opponent is first introduced, sometimes along with the first crime or physical threat; in a thriller the prologue is where the first death/danger/jeopardy is introduced that sets the tone for the adventure, also often the agent of the central opponent is introduced. The prologue is where the story hits the ground running and then stops on a dime with a big question: who got killed and why, who’s responsible, what’s going on here? Then the first chapter is where the hero-heroine is introduced in a benign way, usually showing daily life, some basic exposition about their lives, work, etc. The first chapter usually gives the basic context for the hero-heroine so the reader understands why he/she is the main character and where they fit into the adventure, and then the first chapter ends with them being sucked into the story through some raising of the stakes or some incident that pulls them into a mystery that grows more dangerous and more personally threatening as things progress—okay, maybe in the second chapter."

End lecture.

If a prologue is there, readers will read it. Especially if the book is a genre book. Television shows and feature films use prologues all the time as openers for the show. Viewers don't skip the opening of a movie because it is a prologue! They watch the darn thing. It sets up the adventure. It works the same way in a book.

So, once again I make the grand plea for you to use discernment and common sense when listening to people like me, i.e., writers who teach other writers. Just as in used cars, aluminum siding sales, and stock swaps there are those who sell trends when they should be selling substance.

Stay vigilant, listen to everyone, read everything, follow no one! Repeat the mantra after me ...

Now, go be brilliant.

Writing and the Archetypes: Are They the Best for Developing Characters?—Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 16:00:00 +0000

So, in part 1 of this 3-part series I introduced the concept of the archetypes and why writers use them. And, like I said there, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why archetypes might be useful tools for developing characters in fictional settings.

But, here’s the problem: they’re not characters, they’re archetypes!

This is the essence of the problem. Archetypes are by definition not people. They are aspects of people, aspects of being human, aspects of … you get the point (actually, it's the other way around ... we're aspects of the archetypes!). Archetypes make for great traits, characteristics, qualities, but they do not make for whole characters. They make pieces of characters.

Stories are about us. Stories are about human beings and the human condition. Every story, any story, all stories MUST be about a person on a journey. If the story is not about a person on a journey it is not a story, it is something else: a situation, a problem, a predicament to be solved, whatever; but it’s not a story (I’m sure I’ll get some mail on this one).

A human being is a character. A character has traits-characteristics. The human is an aggregate of behaviors and these traits-characteristics. Taken separately (i.e., an archetype) these traits-characteristics-behaviors cannot standalone. They do not have choice, they do not have will, they cannot act in pursuit of a goal, they cannot be flawed by some moral conflict that speaks to some inner lesson to be learned (or not). Only a fully formed human being, a multidimensional person, a protagonist can stand alone to drive a narrative forward. Archetypes help, but they do not drive. Motivation drives a story and a protagonist. Motivation is the crankshaft of every story (or at least the best kinds of stories). Archetypes reflect motivation (i.e., a trickster is motivated to trick), but they are shadows in this regard. Without human desire and choice the motivation is shallow and thin. Only a human gives meaning, significance, and purpose to motivation—not archetypes.

So, herein lies the problem. All those great writers out there who have written books on this, who have built careers on pushing the archetypes as the foundation of all storytelling, who have banked their entire story-development theory on the primacy of archetypal development are not bad and wrong, but they are gilding the lily in my opinion. You can write a great trickster character, but that will take you just so far. You can write a great villain, but that will take you just so far. You can write a great ally, but—

Maybe this metaphor will help clarify the relationship between a pattern (archetype) and the thing is generates (human being):

Say you are a knitter and you want to make a quilt. So, you buy a knitting pattern that comes in the mail and when it arrives you open it and hold it in your hand. You are not holding a quilt, you are holding a patten for a quilt. The pattern is a piece of paper with instructions, knitting code, and directions: i.e, it is an abstraction of something it will help to create. It is the raw material for making a "real" quilt, which is something you can use to warm yourself or lay on a couch to look pretty for the neighbors when they come over to spill coffee all over it.

Let's take this one step further. You are a writer (okay, a stretch, but go with me) who wants to write a story about a quilt. Which is going to be the most useful to you as a storyteller: the abstract pattern, or the physical quilt? Obviously the latter and not the former. Having a big, warm, wooly quilt gives you a fully dimensional object that you can describe and interact with as a writer. A pattern for this object cannot do those things; it's just a pattern.

And so the difference between the Enneagram and the archetypes. The Enneagram is the fully dimensional and realized object that functions in the world with form. The pattern (archetype) is the function without form. The pattern is essential, the pattern will inform, the pattern will guide, but the pattern is not as rich or useful as the thing it helps to create. Patterns can exist without the things they represent. The things they represent can not exist without the patterns. We can't exist as human beings without the archetypes, but they can exist (and do) without us.

And this is how using archetypes as the foundation of story development can derail and undermine your process, rather than support it. Using patterns of human behavior to cobble together a whole character is not unlike a Victor Frankenstein approach to storytelling. You can't piece together a great character or a great story like a quilt. You must find the crankshaft for motivation and you must find it in the full dimensionality of a protagonist, if he-she is going to drive a story from beginning, through the middle, to the end. Archetypes give wonderful, recognizable, and universal conceits all humans can recognize despite culture or upbringing. But they can’t carry the narrative. For that you have to find what I call the “narrative crankshaft."

In the world of character development (and in story structure, in my opinion) the best tool for discovering, developing, and implementing motivation in a narrative is the Enneagram System. The Enneagram is, in fact, the best tool available for describing human motivation and its related behaviors—period. This is why it has become one of the most popular tools today used by therapists, organizational development consultants, coaches, and a host of other personal-growth and business-development gurus.

I can already hear the objections. “Oh, really? So, all the other personality-typing systems out there (MBTI, DIsC, BPP, etc.) are all chopped liver?” No, of course not. But, they are personality-typing systems. They do not cover motivation; they describe behaviors and traits, not unlike the archetypes. The Enneagram System is not a typing system (despite what many Enneagram practitioners think). It is a holistic paradigm for modeling what motivates human behavior, thought, and feeling in all realms of life. That's what makes it such a gold mine for writers and storytellers. And this is the essential difference between the Enneagram and all other "personality systems," including the archetypes.

When it comes time to write a story and develop characters, a writer needs to be able to see the whole picture, not just the pieces of what is under the hood. Archetypal models won’t do the job, nor will running characters through some personality-typing test. What will do the job, however, is the Enneagram because only the Enneagram shows you the crankshaft for human personality; it is not personality, but it is the driver of personality. The Enneagram, not the archetypes, drives human action and thus creates the narrative crankshaft responsible for driving a story from beginning to end.

In part 3 of this series we’ll look at the Enneagram more specifically and why it is not only a fantastic tool for character development, but also for discovering a story’s natural, right, and true structure. This is something I call the Enneagram-Story Bridge™ and it can be the springboard for liberating any constrained writing process.

Big words, I know. But, it’s a pretty big bridge.

Writing and the Archetypes: Are They the Best for Developing Characters?—Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 01:02:00 +0000

A friend recently asked me to refer her to a “good” book on how to use the archetypes to write stories. I referred her to the book that has cornered the market on this area of writing: Christopher Vogler’s The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers. Chris’s book is great and it presents a seamless examination of how some archetypes work with the classical myth structure, specifically the hero’s journey. Based on the seminal work by mythologist and teacher Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Vogler’s book has been a staple around Hollywierd for years (in fact, that’s where it was born—long story).

I’m not trying to give a sales pitch for The Writer’s Journey, though you should buy it—it’s wonderful stuff. No, my point is to explore a broader issue, an issue raised by my friend’s innocent request. The issue is: are the archetypes really the best source for developing characters and developing stories? My response to this question is a resounding, no.

But first, a digression: what the hell are the archetypes and what the blazes do they have to do with writing? This is a topic worthy of several books in and of itself, but to give you the Cliffnotes version, read on:

What is an archetype?

The word can be broken down into two parts: arche and type. Arche, from the Greek means origin, beginning, primal, and tupos means pattern, stamp, or model. So, an archetype is a primal stamp, the first or original pattern of “something,” usually describing a human behavior or characteristic (i.e., trickster, magician, villain, etc.). The great psychologist Carl Jung made the term famous. Jung’s Analytic Psychology broke away from the rigorous mechanics of Freud’s Psychoanalytic approach around 1912; indeed, Freud was Jung’s mentor for many years, before the two had an intellectual falling. Nonetheless, Jung went on to found his own “school” and is responsible more than any other person for popularizing the idea of the archetypes in everyday life (i.e., father complex, anime-animus, etc.) His version of the archetypes is the basis of the popular, and often used by writers, personality typing system call the Meyers-Briggs Typing Inventory (MBTI).

What do the archetypes have to do with writing?

A lot. There are many fine books written about the archetypes and their relationship to writing, especially in developing characters. The archetypes represent the essential patterns of human behavior and personality (according to many). The archetypes are a part of every human being, and we find them in every culture in every human anywhere on the planet. They represent part of the “monomyth,” i.e., the common myth that can be found weaving its way thorugh every human culture throughout time. For Joseph Campbell (and by osmosis Chris Vogler), that monomyth is the hero’s journey. What better tool to use to create characters, right (wrong)?

For example, according to Vogler, every story is populated by archetypes. They are the recurring patterns of human behavior symbolized by standard types of characters in any story (Source: Wikipedia):

1. Heroes: Central figures in stories. Everyone is the hero of his or her own myth.

2. Shadows: Villains, antagonists or enemies, perhaps the enemy within. The dark side of the Force, the repressed possibilities of the hero, his or her potential for evil. Can be other kinds of repression, such as repressed grief, anger, frustration or creativity that is dangerous if it doesn’t have an outlet.

3. Mentors: The hero’s guide or guiding principles, for example Yoda, Merlin, Gandalf, a great coach or teacher.

4. Herald: One who brings the Call to Adventure. Could be a person or an event.

5. Threshold Guardians: The forces that stand in the way at important turning points, including jealous enemies, professional gatekeepers, or your own fears and doubts.

6. Shapeshifters: In stories, creatures like vampires or werewolves who change shape. In life, the shapeshifter represents change or ambiguity. The way other people (or our perceptions of them) keep changing. The opposite sex, the way people can be two-faced.

7. Tricksters: Clowns and mischief-makers, Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, Richard Pryor and Eddie Murphy. Our own mischievous subconscious, urging us to change.

8. Allies: Characters who help the hero through the change. Sidekicks, buddies, girlfriends who advise the hero through the transitions of life.

(List Source: Wikipedia)

It does not take a rocket scientist to see the potential benefits from relying on these “primal patterns” to shape and build fictional characters. Indeed, for many the archetypes help shape the very structure of a story itself, as in this case with The Writer’s Journey.

But, the bolded-italicized text above (which introduces the list) flags the central flaw in this approach. Any approach relying on archetypes must be reductionist, not additive. Characters are based not on their complexity, but rather on "standard types" and "recurring patterns of characteristics." This is a house of cards waiting to fall, in my opinion. Where is desire? Where is motivation? Where is choice? Nowhere is where. There's nothing wrong with using patterns and recurring characteristics, but they can't be the starting point for real characters, let alone structuring a story.

As we will shall see in part 2 of this 3-part series, while there are great benefits from using the archetypes in writing, there are also huge dangers that can derail your story and cripple your characters before they even get started. Stay tuned for part 2 and learn why the archetypes should not be a writer’s first choice for story or character development. That all-important choice should instead be something called the Enneagram System.

LitReactor Launches Site for Writing, Learning, and Community: Is it Worth It?

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 21:42:00 +0000

Tomorrow, Oct 1, a new website is being launched to create a working community and learning environment for writers. Huffington Post was granted exclusive access to the site early and wrote a little post on it, singing its virtues (for the most part). In fact, it lead off the mag's book section (under "Media") with the post.

I find it fascinating that another website geared toward charging writers for the privilege of getting peer feedback is being given so much attention. There are tons of similar websites out there (including mine!) geared to this end, all set up by writers like me who are trying to make ends meet by doing what they love—sharing their knowledge and giving advice. I guess we could all get a day job, oh wait ... THERE ARE NO DAY JOBS! Not in California anyway (at 12+% unemployment).

So, we do what we all do best: write, teach, try to make it in the writing life.

I love that LitReactor is launching. I love that "name" authors are participating like Chuck Palahniuk (who I think walks on water as a writer). I love that some innovation and creative thought is going into this new site. But (yeah, isn't there always a "but"), is it really worth it to pay for peer feedback? Here is what the Huffpo post said:

"... peer critique has become quite common in sites such as these; in return, users can usually expect a more moderated, and considerate feedback space. A community is only as good as its members ..."

I've made no secret of my hatred of writing groups. I think they are a complete waste of a writer's time. Mr. Palahniuk has a quickie video on the new LitReactor site that gives his reasons for why writing groups are important: to paraphrase—they help keep you on track with goals and force you to be accountable for results. Okay, but you can hire someone to call you every day to do that. We all have to be accountable. But what about the critique part? Do you really want to pay to have other writers who don't know any more than you do tell you:

"Loved the story"
"Sorry, didn't work for me."
"Great characters .. .but maybe you should turn everyone into a robot?"

I'm sorry, but this kind of "feedback" is utterly useless to me as a writer (and I suspect to you to). Read my post on writing groups for a fuller version of my rant : writing groups post.

I think it is disingenuous to taught this site as more than it is: a nicely thought out, but run-of-the-mill money generator. I'm all for making money and doing so doing what I love to do. But, I would never charge anyone for the "privilege" of crowdsourcing feedback. If the source of the feedback was the likes of Stephen King, or Caroline Leavitt, or Masha Hamilton—fine. I'll gladly pay.

But, in this context, sorry. I don't need any more writer friends, I don't need to hear how "bitchin'" my story idea is, I don't need to get validated by anyone who's bailing out their writing boat at the same speed I'm bailing out mine, and I just bloody don't have the time to maintain another bloody social website that requires me to accumulate badges and "rewards" for participating so I can see my name in "lights," like I've just scored the highest hit-count in World of Warcraft. I'm all for incentivizing writers—but you can keep your badges and pats on the back.

What do you think?

Now go be brilliant.

Show, Don't Tell: Another Writing Conundrum

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Sun, 18 Sep 2011 18:57:00 +0000

How many times have you heard wise drama sages and story gurus proclaim, “Show, don’t tell!” There are many transgressions one may commit as a novelist or screenwriter, but none will bring down the hammer of criticism as hard and fast as telling and not showing. So, don’t do that, we are told. This is bad writing, and who wants to be a bad writer? BAAAAAAAD WRITER!

On the surface this sounds like excellent advice. In a visual writing medium (I contend all writing is visual), like screenwriting, it makes good sense to show as much as you can. Good sense, like “eat your peas,” or “after eating your peas, wait a half an hour before going into the water.” And, everyone understands what showing vs. telling means, right? It means character through action; your plot is what your characters do, not what they think inside their heads. You “see” the story unfold directly in real time, story time; not hear about it second hand or have it handed to you through some literary/cinematic device. You, as the audience, experience the story through your perceptions directly, as the characters do the “showing” through their actions, thus demonstrating actively what they are about.

Simple. Basic. Everybody knows this. End of the discussion. Well no, not exactly. Here’s the problem with “show don’t tell”: it’s not either-or; it’s both. In film, TV, and book writing the point is not to avoid telling, it’s about knowing when to do one vs. the other. There are times when it is correct to tell and times it is incorrect. What do I mean?

Consider the story of the lowly kung fu student who is taken under the wing of the crusty, yet compassionate priest for training. He comes to the master a young boy and leaves a teenage killing machine. His transformation from child to killer takes years. If you showed this in a literal way your script would take you fifteen years to write. You can’t show this, you have to tell it. The main tool used in film for telling is the montage. In half a page you can tell what happens to this kid, through exclusion, and then pick the story up when he’s at the right age. The fact is, screenwriters tell all the time by making story choices to edit out, or not, specific scene material. Whenever you as a writer edit down a scene, exclude exposition, or expand a scene with exposition you are telling your story. Anything that breaks the dramatic time line of the story immediately shifts the mode of storytelling (and writing) from the dramatic to the narrative.

What is the difference between dramatic vs. narrative storytelling (this is part of understanding the "show, don't tell" conundrum)? Narrative storytelling has a narrator; someone telling or describing to the audience what is/has/or will be happening. Certainly, the most blatant form of narrative storytelling in film is the literal narrator. Beyond the montage, a more subtle form of this can be found in scene transitions: cut to, dissolve, smash cut, etc. These are all forms of narration. When a scene transitions from one location to another in a non-linear way, some anonymous narrator is choosing for the audience where they leave the story and where they will reenter. This edit suddenly leaves things open to the imagination (what happened during that dissolve?) and while the viewer is not seeing anything dramatic unfold, they are, nonetheless, fully engaged in the telling of the story. Essentially, film editing is narration.

In contrast, dramatic storytelling is scene level action that happens in real-time, while an audience watches. The audience sees events directly unfold with no breaks in space or time. In addition, these events are filtered by the audience through their perceptions, not through those of a narrator. Using our teenage killer example, each scene where the audience watches him breaking boards, fighting opponents, etc. are all real-time events observable and interpretable by the viewers themselves.

Appreciating the distinctions between these two modes of storytelling, perhaps you can see how declaring “show, don’t tell” has little or no value. As a writer you could not effectively narrate the kung fu story without dramatically showing action, anymore than you could only show action without narrating some information to the audience. The story needs both these methods to properly tell the story. Knowing how much of one vs. how little of another to use is the craft and art of screenwriting.

My personal feeling is all of the above applies to novel writing and narrative nonfiction as well. You have more leeway and fewer constraints in these forms, because screenwriting is inherently claustrophobic and burdened with limits (page length, screenplay language, IQ of the producers, etc.), but the same principles should apply. Good commercial pop-fiction like Caroline Leavitt, Masha Hamilton, Steven King, Orson Scott Card, J.D. Robb, and others all show and tell their work and it comes off visually for the reader. They write very cinematically, and literately as well, because they “get” that it isn’t about following some stupid rule or mantra dictated to them by the writing gurus, they write visually because they understand the issue is about balance and they walk the tightrope of showing and telling like a flying Wallenda (famous high wire circus family—look them up!).

So, I’m telling you, the next time somebody lectures you to “show, don’t tell,” show them to the door and tell them to get lost.

Premise Line–Log line Conundrum: Aren’t They the Same Thing—NOT!

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 20:57:00 +0000

Wending one's way through the language of the story development jungle is one of the most crazy-making issues faced by new authors and screenwriters. This problem is wonderfully exemplified by the phrases “premise line” and “log line.” Yes—now is a good time to go running screaming down the hall.

We hear these phrases used interchangeably all the time. Well-intentioned advice given by so many writing teachers and gurus becomes migraine material when "premise line" and "log line" are actually used in the same sentence referring to the same thing. I’ve actually heard this done by story consultants, “Yes, you need a great premise line. In fact, the log line is the key to any good premise. So, take the time to develop a great premise line.” Still running screaming down the hall, FYI.

Okay, I didn’t hear this exact exchange; I paraphrase. But this is what happens. Writing teachers mix these two critical concepts up and spew them out as if they were Twiddle Dee and Tweedle Dum. Premise line and log line are two DIFFERENT tools, two DIFFERENT concepts, and two different skills. Okay, stop running down the hall now and listen.

So, what is the difference?

The premise line is your story. Period. The premise line is a complex and subtle construction that reveals not just a main character and an adventure; it actually delivers the basic structure of the story to the reader-viewer. The art of the premise line is the art of precision and clarity of ideas. A well-formed premise will “click” when you read it to someone and they will say, “Yeah, I see that story. I’d read that.” They “see” the story in just a few short lines. But, getting those lines just right might take hours, days, or even weeks. I’ve known some to take months. What is it they “see”?

The premise line gives them a clear vision of a protagonist acting with a purposeful desire toward a goal that is opposed by some force, and all this leading to some dénouement. This is a simplistic definition, but it captures the essence of what a premise line accomplishes. I will be writing a later post that breaks this down specifically with examples, but for now, know that the premise line is the structure of your story told as a single sentence (that’s right—1 sentence; and not a long run-on sentence sprinkled with comma splicing!) that has forward movement and gives a sense of the story’s beginning, middle, and end (no, don’t give away the ending).

Here is an example of a good premise line (three guesses what book/movie):

When the innocent, youngest son of a powerful mafia godfather discovers his beloved father has been shot as part of a turf war, he agrees to join the family to exact revenge and re-establish the family’s honor, until his actions force him to cross a line he was never meant to cross, dooming him to become the next Godfather.

Contrast this to a log line. The log line is your story’s high concept in a short sentence. If you don’t know what high concept means (yes, it means something) then check out my post on this concept.

The log line, unlike the premise line, does not show the overarching shape of your story, it does not give you the action line of the protagonist, nor does it give you a sense of the big picture. No, the log line’s job is to grab you and get your mind and emotions churning. There are seven components to a high-concept idea:

High level of entertainment value
High degree of originality
High level of uniqueness (different than original)
Highly visual
Possesses a clear emotional focus (root emotion)
Targets a broad, general audience, or a large niche market
Sparks a “what if” question
(Excerpted from my book How Not to Write Your Self-Published Book: Top 25 Writer Fails & Fixes. Xela Opus Press, publication date 2013)

When a story has one or more of these components, then it can say it is high concept. The more the merrier. If it only has one or two, the claim can get iffy. Each of these bullets means something specific and are important to understand. Please refer to my post for more explanation. But, for the purposes of this post understand that the log line exemplifies these seven components of the high concept, and it does so in few words. Here are some examples:

A monster shark terrorizes a small coastal town [Jaws, Peter Benchly]
A cop battles uber-thieves when they take over an office building. [Nothing Lasts Forever, Roderick Thorp (film: Die Hard)]
A young boy discovers he’s a wizard and goes off to wizard school. [Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling]
A man saves a pregnant woman in a world where women no longer give birth. [Children of Men, P.D. James]

None of these tell you about a hero or heroine, none of them give you any idea about the journey to be traveled, but they do grab you and get you wondering “what if.” That’s the job of the log line.

These are the differences between the two tools. It does not take a rocket scientist to see how they work together to form a powerful effect in pitching a story. One grabs you and the other satisfies the “what if” with a bit more detail. Together they sell the story and get you that next meeting.

So, to summarize: premise line and log line are two different tools that work synergistically to create a powerful image of your story. They were built to work together, not separately. If you build them well, you will take many lunches—and you won’t have to pay either.

Now go be brilliant.

The Greatest Screenwriting Secret I Ever Learned

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Like every screenwriter I thought my job was pretty much done after I wrote and finalized my submission draft. Screenplay done, edited, vetted by my trusted supporters, and ready for the cold, hard world of the screenplay spec market.

But, no, not so fast. A dear and experienced friend of mine, Director Stephen David Brooks (HeadsNTailz:Video Review ), revealed to me what has become one of my most valued lessons in the screenwriting trade. When we started collaborating on projects together, he revealed that the pros know a simple truth: you never write one screenplay; you need at least four. In other words, every script you write will need four separate versions (not rewrites). Each draft is targeted for a specific stage of the green light minefield. Pass through all the stages, and your script might just get to principle photography.

The logic (which is irrefutable) goes like this:

The Reading Draft:

The first draft you write is meant for the gatekeepers. These include studio readers, freelance story analysts, creative executives, agents and literary managers. These are the first line of defense of the movie industry’s immune system and their job is to seek out and destroy all screenplays that make it past the permeable membrane of Hollywood. The only way your screenplay will not end up absorbed and digested by the killer reader-cells is if your screenplay is written to appease their sensibilities. This means that the first script’s job is to be read. The script must not be geared for a director to shoot, it must not be skewed in any way to appear “camera ready.” No, the primary job of this first draft is to be read. So, the script should be written to be read, not shot. This is a huge point, as most newbie screenwriters think they should write a script that is ready for production. No, just the opposite is true. Think readers, not filmmakers. If the first draft is a good read, then it might survive the Hollywood immune response and make it to the next stage.

The Talent Draft:

Whew! You made past the gatekeepers. Now the agents or the studio creative executives want to package the script. They want to “attach elements.” This is Hollywoodese for “let’s find people to act in this fine film.” Any good agent or creative executive will then ask the writer to make some changes. While the writer will have to respond to what will most likely be inane suggestions, this is actually the time the smart writer will tweak the script so talent will find it irresistible. Now the job of the script is to be acted, not read. The writer wants the dialogue to pop, the characters to shine through the action, and the emotion to swell in the actors' hearts. The script’s job now is to sell itself as a career vehicle, not a good read for the weekend. The entire script should be rewritten to emphasize an actors' participation; at this stage the play’s the thing.

Distributor Draft:

Double whew! Gatekeeper killer-cells pacified, talent attached, now the producers of the film, if they’re clever, will ask the screenwriter to do another draft for the distributors. If a studio is already involved this won’t be necessary. But, if it is an indie film then this will be needed. The distributor draft is designed to show the company(ies) partnering with the producers that the filmmakers value their input and respect their draconian contract terms. The job of this draft is to show the market potential for the story. Where could product placement go, what action elements are highlighted to attract the right demographics, etc.? While the play’s the thing in the talent draft, here the market’s the thing. The writer now tweaks the script to highlight market potential and the global reach of the story. This may be subtle and anything but drastic in terms of real changes, but smart writers know they need to do this to be competitive.

Shooting Draft:

Reader killer-cells appeased, talent emoting, distributors counting beans; all is finally ready for the real deal. Now, the filmmakers can finish the shooting draft that will be used for principle photography. Now (shhh, don't tell anyone else), the writer and director can write the movie they want to shoot. They can undo, rewrite, delete, and reinvent anything they had to do previously to get to this final stage. Now the original vision can be re-written back into the script, if it was lost along the way. Were all the earlier drafts and stages of the process pointless, if now the writer just brings it back to where it all started? No, film making and screenwriting (unlike playwriting) is a collaborative process. The tweaks from all the earlier stages will not be totally undone, especially if a studio is involved, but this is a safe plateau in the process for realigning vision and dramatic focus, if necessary.

So, this is the greatest secret I’ve ever learned about screenwriting. Writers need to be adaptive to the requirements of the business of writing, and be ready to be responsive to all the stakeholders in a project—money rules, not creative vision. There’s plenty of time for re-establishing vision when you get to the shooting draft. In the meantime, learn the secret and have a long career.

Now, go write four drafts.

High Concept: Yes—It Actually Means Something!

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 20:29:00 +0000

As writers we have all come up against the agent, publisher, studio hack or fellow writer who, when asked to give feedback on our story retorts, “Yeah, good idea, but … it needs to pop more. There’s no high concept.” Sigh. And what the heck does that mean? What are you supposed to do with that? People throw this phrase around like the definition is common knowledge.

But when asked to explain their sorry selves, these same people only deliver cliches, like:

It’s your story’s hook
It’s what’s fun about your story
It’s your story in a single image
It’s your story’s heart
It’s your story as a movie one-sheet
It’s the essence of your premise
And so on …

All of these have some truth to them. All of these speak to the idea of a high concept, but none of them really explain the darn thing. “High concept” has become a term d’art that everyone uses and that no one really understands.

After much hair pulling, moaning, and sleepless nights analyzing this idea, I have stumbled upon an elegant construct that I think will with both define the term accurately, but also give writers a tool for testing their ideas to quickly see if there is a high-concept component present. It goes like this:

High concept applies to any idea: motorcycle design, toothpaste, cooking, comic books, novels, movies, the list is endless. High concept is about essence; that visceral thing that grabs you by the scruff of the neck and doesn’t let go. From a writing perspective, a story idea that is high concept captures the reader’s or viewer’s imagination, excites their senses, get’s them asking “what if,” and sparks them to start imagining the story even before they have read a word. High concept drives the commercial book business, as well as the film and television industries. A high-concept idea has the following seven qualities:

The 7 Qualities of a High-Concept Idea™:

High level of entertainment value
High degree of originality
High level of uniqueness (different than original)
Highly visual
Possesses a clear emotional focus (root emotion)
Targets a broad, general audience, or a large niche market
Sparks a “what if” question
(Excerpted from my book How Not to Write Your Self-Published Book: Top 25 Writer Fails & Fixes. Xela Opus Press, publication date 2013)

Let’s look at each of these to get a better idea of what they mean:

High-level of entertainment value: This can be elusive. Defining “entertainment value” is like trying to define pornography; it’s in the eye of the beholder. Simply put, you know if something is entertaining, or not, if it holds your attention and sparks your imagination. If you are distracted easily from the idea or interested purely on an intellectual basis, then it is safe to say that the idea may be interesting, engaging, and curious, but not entertaining.

High degree of originality: What does it mean to be original? Some common words associated with originality are: fresh, new, innovative, novel (no, not a book). Think of originality as approach-centric. The idea may be centered in a familiar context, but the approach (original take) offered to get to that familiar context has never been used before, for example:

Frankenstein:
Familiar idea: evil monster terrorizes the humans.
Original take: the monster and humans switch moral ground and the humans terrorize the monster.

Dog Day Afternoon:
Familiar idea: man robs a bank for money.
Original take: man robs a bank to get sex change for his transsexual lover and wins the hearts and minds of the people.

Lord of the Flies:
Familiar idea: survivors shipped wrecked on an island.
Original take: the survivors are proper English schoolboys who abandon all civilized norms reverting into primitive savages.

So, originality is more about finding new ways to present the familiar, rather than inventing something new from scratch.

High level of uniqueness: Whereas originality is about approach and fresh perspective, uniqueness is about being one-of-a-kind, first time, and incomparable. Being original can also involve uniqueness, but being unique transcends even originality.

Highly visual: high-concept ideas have a visual quality about them that is palpable. When you read or hear about a high-concept idea your mind starts conjuring images and you literally see the idea unfold in your mind. This is why high-concept books make such good films when adapted. Books with cinematic imagery are almost always high-concept stories.

Possesses a clear emotional focus: Like imagery, high-concept ideas spark emotion, but not just any emotion, usually it is a primal emotion: fear, joy, hate, love, rage, etc. There is no wishy-washy emotional engagement of the reader. The involvement is strong, immediate, and intense.

Possesses mass audience appeal: The idea appeals to an audience beyond friends and family. The target market is broad, diverse, and large. Some ideas are very niche, appealing to a specific demographic, but this is usually a large demographic. High-concept ideas are popular ideas, mass ideas, and often trendy ideas.

Usually born from a “what if” question: What if dinosaurs were cloned (Jurassic Park)? What if women stopped giving birth (Children of Men)? What if Martians invaded the Earth (War of the Worlds)? High-concept ideas are often posed first with a “what if” scenario and then the hook becomes clear. The hook is that part of the high concept that grabs the reader. It is often the one piece of the idea that is the original concept or the unique element. In the three examples just given, each of them has a clear hook that leads to a high-concept premise line (the "premise line" will be the subject of a later post).

Do you have to have all seven qualities for an idea to be high concept? No, but the more of them you have, the more likely you will have a strong high concept. When the idea of high concept is put in the context of these seven qualities, it becomes easier to see that commercial ideas and literary (i.e., soft) ideas often have a clear line of demarcation. That line is the high concept. The next piece of this concept concerns the log line, which is a practical tool for realizing the potential of your high concept. In other words, your log line (different than a premise line!) is your high concept stated in a short, concise sentence. But, this is the subject of a later post.

I hope this helps. It sure helped me when I figured it out.

Now, go be brilliant.

Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest Winners 2011 (Yikes)

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 19:46:00 +0000

The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is a writing contest held annually and is sponsored by the English Department of San Jose State University. Writers have to "compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels," i.e., be bad, very bad.

The contest was started in 1982 and is named for English novelist and playwright Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, author of the much-quoted "It was a dark and stormy night". This opening, from his 1830 novel Paul Clifford, continues in perfect, purple prose:

"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."

Well, the 2011 winners and losers are in: (be ready to cringe)

1st Place:

"Cheryl’s mind turned like the vanes of a wind-powered turbine, chopping her sparrow-like thoughts into bloody pieces that fell onto a growing pile of forgotten memories."

Sue Fondrie,Oshkosh, WI

At 26 words, Prof. Fondrie’s submission is the shortest grand prize winner in Contest history, proving that bad writing need not be prolix, or even very wordy.

2nd Place:

"As I stood among the ransacked ruin that had been my home, surveying the aftermath of the senseless horrors and atrocities that had been perpetrated on my family and everything I hold dear, I swore to myself that no matter where I had to go, no matter what I had to do or endure, I would find the man who did this . . . and when I did, when I did, oh, there would be words.

Rodney Reed, Ooltewah, TN

For a list of all the happy entrants : http://www.bulwer-lytton.com/2011.htm

Here's to hoping they never write that novel!

Attack of the Three-Act Structure: Run for Your Lives!

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 15:00:00 +0000

As writers we have all been bamboozled! We have done the one thing we, as writers, should never do—assume. We have assumed that because someone writes a bloody book and gives advice about writing that: 1) they know what the hell they’re talking about, 2) they are right, 3) because they wrote a book they have something original to say.

All of these assumptions are dead wrong. And you can extrapolate all this to writer-bloggers (including me!). Like I always say, my mantra if you will: listen to everyone, follow no one. So listen up—

One of the great lies we have all swallowed, only because the source of the lie spoke with some authority or sold books or screenplays, is the lie of the three-act structure. The idea that a story is told in three acts is about as true and real as Area 51, or the Legion of Doom, or Elvis still being alive (sorry, he’s really dead). Three acts have NOTHING to do with storytelling. However, three acts have a great deal to do with physical stage production. Let me explain.

Way back in the days of the Greeks, we’re talking pre-default days—circa 500–300 B.C.—drama was king. Theater, in the form of epic poetry, was the Comic-Con of the age. Physical plays performed by human beings on a stage that required moving sets and technical setups (some amazingly elaborate) were an unavoidable part of physical production of a play. Even then it was not thought smart to have the audience sit and watch the sausage being made, so some enterprising Greek came up with the idea of curtains or screens that could be put into place to shield the audience from the gross happenings between transitions. Curtains were one way to not break the mood, to not lose the tempo, etc.

Thus, acts were born. Writers started writing to accommodate these changes in the physical requirements in their plays. Acts were sometimes three, sometimes two, and sometimes ten! Even 2500 years ago there was no hard and fast rule about the number three. So, the idea of acts is not an idea related to telling a story, it is an idea related to a specific form of delivering a story: i.e., a stage play. Acts are about physical production, not writing or storytelling. They impact how a story is delivered, they do not impact how a story is ultimately told (I expect push-back on this one).

So, where the hell did we get this cockamamie idea that screenplays or novels should be told in three acts (or four)? “Oh,” replies the literary critic, "it comes from Aristotle. In his foundational work Poetics he laid out the necessity of three acts in drama and comedy.”

WRONG!

Aristotle (384–322 B.C.) never talked about acts. He talked about a beginning, middle, and end in any drama or comedy, but he laid down no such rule about acts. So, don’t blame him.

Not to point fingers, because I think the actual origin of this in modern times is impossible to “finger,” but one influential source for this monstrosity of an idea is Syd Field. We all have a debt of gratitude to this man for trailblazing the field of screenwriting for popular audiences. He is a great man and he deserves his place in the pantheon of marketing mavericks. Yeah, I know … here comes the “but.”

But—Syd, more than anyone, popularized the idea of three acts through his “Paradigm” theory; the idea that stories are told in three acts, but that the second act should be broken up into parts A and B. And because he was "the first," and because he was articulate and made sense, people assumed this must be true; this must be the way of things. In Hollywood this notion of three acts took hold like a pernicious weed. To this day, at the highest levels of creative power, creative executives all talk about three acts. Agents, managers, all manner of industry blowhard talk about three acts. Even, sadly, we screenwriters smoke this nasty weed. In the publishing world, the problem is less pronounced, but it is still an issue. Literary novels, especially, are less prone to this infestation, but commercial, genre fiction is more likely to succumb.

Run, run, run—for your creative lives! Three acts have nothing to do with storytelling. Shake loose this idea and free yourself. Three acts will not serve you or your story, unless you’re a playwright. So, what should you do instead? How should you structure your story?

What story development tool is best for you is a highly personal and complicated issue. There are some good story structure teachers out there (“story gurus”—see my post http://bit.ly/qW9Bww) who have alternative approaches to the three-act structure. Many of them do some modified version of the three or four act structure, but some like the fabulous John Truby (The Anatomy of Story) have created real solutions to the problem. Chris Vogler (The Hero’s Journey) is another. I can’t recommend John Truby highly enough, though. His work is truly seminal in the field. My own methodology is also good (Enneagram-Story Bridge™ ), but my approach is better suited for building a development foundation that can then be ported over to a more determined system, like Truby's or Vogler's. For now, I will just leave it at that, as this topic of story-structure methodology deserves a more detailed examination all its own—at a later time.

Just know that there are useful alternatives out there and that you will be hugely benefited in your creative process if you just walk away (nay, run) from the model of three acts, and look instead for an approach that focuses on classic story development and not the same ol’ same ol’, story-structure straightjacket.

Now, go be brilliant!

Death to Story Gurus (metaphorically of course)!

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Fri, 22 Jul 2011 21:18:00 +0000

Gurus: it seems the world is over-run with them. Cults, cults of personality, cults of politics, cults of religion, therapy cults, food cults, sexual cults the list goes on. There is at least one more type we should list, sadly: the story cult.

Yes, story gurus abound these days. Throw a stone and you’ll hit one. I won’t name names (you know who you are), but writing and story gurus use the same tactics as any cult leader to recruit, retain, and indoctrinate their “followers.” Here are some of the red flags to know if you are getting sucked into the web of a story guru:

“You need me to help you become a better writer.”
“You need my methodology/system if you are going to succeed.”
“One class isn’t enough, you have to do the whole series to really get the benefit.”
“Sign up for the next class series or you’ll fall behind in your development as a writer.”
“My next book has exactly what you need, so make sure you buy it.”
“If you really want to succeed, sign up for this writing retreat; you won’t get this information from anyone else.”
“Join my writing group, or you won’t make any progress as a writer.”

The message is clear: you need me, you can’t do this alone, and you need a guru/teacher.

(Dramatic pause) … NO, YOU DON'T! You do not need a guru; you do not need a teacher. And anyone who tells you that you do is selling you snake oil and pulling a flimflam on you. But, let me explain why I feel this way.

The word “guru” has developed a bad connotation because of all the vampires out there that suck people’s power and money under the guise of “teaching.” There is nothing inherently wrong with listening to a guru or a teacher. We all benefit from teachers who teach. We all become more for learning from people who have been through experiences we have not, and who can transfer their knowledge to us as a gift. But, when getting that help demands us giving up our personal power, AND our bank accounts, then I certainly have a problem with that—and I hope you do too.

Sadly, there are many people who line up to give up their power to so-called experts in every field, least of all in the story-consulting world. I know, I work in that world, I teach in that world—but hear me, I am no guru! My approach is simple: take classes, buy books, listen to everyone; but, follow NO ONE! My tweet version of this philosophy is: Death to gurus! I speak metaphorically, of course.

Teachers and gurus are never a necessity. You can learn everything you need to learn on your own. But, it saves time to have someone teach you things if they already have the experience and insights you lack. You will have those experiences eventually yourself. You will gain those insights yourself. But, why not take a shortcut if one is offered; ala a teacher or guru? Nothing wrong with that.

But, the job of teachers is to teach themselves out of a job. Their job is not to produce perpetual students, but to produce more teachers. Any good therapist should therapize themselves out of a job by getting patients better, not keeping them hooked on years of therapy. Any good leader does not produce followers, they produce more leaders who change the world and make life better for everyone. The same goes for story gurus.

I teach classes; I sell books; I consult with clients. And you will pay me for the privilege because it has cost me years of time and money to gain my skills and knowledge. I’m worth the price of admission! But, I make no demands that you follow or keep buying, or ever use me again. If you choose to continue to work with me, great, that’s a preference, a choice you make consciously, NOT a necessity that is foisted upon you by my guilting you into following my methodology or “teachings.” You don’t need any story consultant or me. We need you, however, if we want to do what we love to do, i.e., teach and work with great writers.

So, to sum up: Death to story gurus. You are your own guru. You are your own teacher. Use us out of preference, not necessity. We don’t want your power. But, we don't work for free, so there’s the tradeoff. We who do this story work are lucky to have you , so thank you.

Now, go write.

In Memoriam: Borders Bookstore

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 20:24:00 +0000

Another one bites the dust. But, not just "another one," one of the mainstays of the book beat. Bookstores have always come and gone. In the past, however, their coming and going was based on vertical integration. Big fish ate the little fish and became bigger fish. Borders Bookstore used to be a big fish, now it is liquidating 400 stores and 11,000 jobs. Beyond jobs, there could be ramifications for the paperback, as Borders was known as a retailer that took special care to promote paperback sales. It's efforts in this regard could push a paperback into bestseller status. So, this liquidation has a massive human cost, and quite literally a price will be paid in paperback sales and availability.

Bibliophiles like me shed a tear for such a passing as this, but in all honesty I have to say I can't remember the last time I was even in a Borders, or a Barns & Noble, or any brick and mortar bookstore! I shop at the biggest bookstore in the world: Amazon.com. So, am I one of those pricks responsible for the death of the bookstore? I suppose. I take responsibility for giving in to the ease and elegance of online shopping. But, can you blame me? Every time I call up a brick and mortar bookstore—support them, to shop them, to use them—I ask for a book and invariably the response is, "We don't have that title in store, sir, but I can order it for you and it will take a couple of days to get here." Ugh! Unless I am looking for something off the New York Times Best Seller list; or a graphic novel; or some hot-off-the-press, flavor-of-the-month, how-to book chances are the store won't have it in stock. So, if I want my book quickly the only solution is Amazon. Does that make me a bad person? Some say yes.

Get a grip, people. Bookstores will not disappear. The passing of the large chains only brings us back full-circle to the good ol' days when boutique stores supplied niche audiences with all manner of books unavailable at major chains. Small bookstores are actually on the rise again, as they fill in the gaps left by chain store closures. The hype about the death of the book (and the bookstore) are greatly exaggerated, in my opinion. Books will never go away and neither will bookstores. We may find them harder to find, but every community will have them, rest assured. I am much more concerned about the 11,000 people who will lose their jobs with the Borders liquidation. And don't even get me going about the future of libraries. That's very scary and worth of a separate post.

In short, RIP Borders. It was nice knowing you. I weep for your employees and your stockholders who will eat their shorts. But, in the grand scheme this is part of the evolution of the species and will be good for the independent bookstore ecology and community bookstores. As for me, I will still be going to the biggest bookstore in the world and my guilt at participating in the death of the book will have to fester deeply inside me in silence.

I am still a good person.

Writing Groups—Be Afraid, Be very Afraid

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 19:36:00 +0000

Recently, I got into an argument with a writer who was raving about her writing group. She waxed poetic about the support she felt, the valuable input (though some advice conflicted), the feeling of connection she felt and all the other warm fuzziness that comes with being with like-minded people.

So, what was there there to argue about? Well, my response to her was, "Quit the thing immediately."

That kind of set her off and so the argument began. Now, granted, I can be a bit snippy and self-righteous when I get all in a tizzy about something. I tried to cool my jets, but her effusive love affair with her writing group pushed too many of my buttons. So, we argued, and in any such argument, there are never winners, just losers. She wasn't bad or wrong in her devotion, nor was I in my cynicism. But, that got me thinking ... was there some happy medium between her "true-believer" status and my "file for divorce" mindset? What was the bigger picture here?

I found myself reviewing all the reasons why I hate writing groups. In a nutshell, I find them to be anything but helpful to writers. Most of the participants are bad writers to begin with and have no real experience or expertise to offer other writers. Members typically are unpublished, unschooled in writing craft themselves (that's why they're in a group), and they almost never know how to give constructive criticism. Input from group members usually falls into three categories: empty praise, vicious critiques, or banal suggestions. I also find that, over time, familiarity within the group, between members, begins to undermine any real advice that might be offered, as cliques form, power struggles arise, and rivalries fester as the "good" writers battle against the "bad" writers. After a year or so, the group inevitably resembles more "Rome before the fall," rather than some harmonious group of supportive and objective writers. Obviously, there are writing groups that work. But, I believe these to be rare and anomalies of freak chance.

There is, however, an even more fundamental reason why writing groups should be thought of as crimes against nature. Writing is not a group sport. Writing is a solitary and isolated process. Every writer I know who has any success in the field has complained to me, on their Face Book page, or through other public forums how miserable they are during the writing of a book; how lonely, how despairing, and riddled with fear and doubt. Well—welcome to the writing life! Joining a group to avoid this reality is simply not going to work. Writing process, as I have often said, is the literary equivalent to water boarding. A writing group will not save you from the sensation of drowning that awaits you when you leave its warm and fuzzy folds. Just deal with it and know that it will not kill you and that you will come out the other end. The group will only give you misdirection, premature or undeserved praise, and ultimately prolong your torture.

So, I guess, for me, there is no middle ground, no bigger picture that might serve as a basis for feeling okay about writing groups. For me the issue is productivity and process. I think you are just on your own when it comes to both. What should you do instead, if you are truly looking for useful input and advice? There are several more productive and realistic alternatives to writing groups:

Readers: Develop a group of trusted readers who will not tell you what you want to hear, but who will tell you the truth. Preferably people who love to read and who you don't know, or know very little. Give them specifics on what you are looking for with input and let them go at it. This will be real-world advice you can use.

Editors: Find a great line editor and a great developmental editor. Line editors clean up your basic grammar, spelling, punctuation, and usage. they also conform your text to Chicago Manual of Style conventions (or whatever style guide you use). Developmental editors give you the story and structure feedback most writing groups are clueless about. These are people who may not be good writers, but they are great storytellers and they will help you become a better storyteller. Worth their weight in gold when you find them.

Classes: Read everything you can on how to write and take every class you can afford. This can be a black hole of your time as well, if you are not careful, but there are some great story and writing teachers out there who can arm you with new tools and help you with learn how to survive the water board. Listen to everyone, follow no one! As I always say, you are your own guru and teacher, ultimately. Many poo poo classes, but I say try them, you might like them. How are these different than writing groups? Classes end!

I know that there are many writers who will read all of this and feel compelled to come to the defense of their writing group. Feel free to do so. I have great respect for loyalty. But, consider that for all the time you will wast driving back and forth to group meetings, kibitzing before and after meetings, listening to other peoples stories and self-absorbed criticisms you could be writing at home and getting pages done. Maybe bad pages, but so what. Your first draft is always shit anyway. Everybody's first draft sucks. Join a group if you must; just know that it will take more than it gives and leave you feeling like you need a shower, when all is said and done.

Now, just go write.

Amazon: Review My Book and I'll Promote You!

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Fri, 01 Jul 2011 18:56:00 +0000

Emily Witt from the New York Observer published an interesting tidbit recently about how Amazon has taken to bartering for book reviews. Per her article:

"The Observer has now learned how Amazon is looking to revolutionize the process of getting author blurbs: provide a review for a book on an Amazon imprint and Amazon will give the reviewer — and his or her book — extra promotion as a thank you."
(Emily Witt, New York Observer, 6/28/11)

I read this and frankly found myself torn. On the one hand I admire Amazon for trashing all the conventions of traditional publishing. They are the publishing world's equivalent to Sherman's March through Atlanta (check your Civil War history, it wasn't pretty). Normally, reviews requests are sent out to "independent" and respected reviewers, people with some clout and some cache who, if they like your tome, will give a valued thumbs-up and thus help book sales. Publishers, of course, have their friends who they like to send review copies to, and these friends, in turn, give objective reviews (cough, cough). How much of the traditional review process is really objective? How much "I'll scratch yours if you scratch mine" is really going on under the covers? I'm sure Random House would object to anything tawdry going on, as would the other big six publishers (or any publisher).

But, I found myself wondering, is Amazon really doing anything unethical by asking for reviews and then promising payback if such is given? Aren't they just putting into to cold light of dawn what is going on between publishers and reviewers already? This is perhaps a very traditional move by the nontraditional Amazon! The only downside to this is that reviewers will be more likely to give positive nods if they know they will get positive promotion back by Amazon for their own books. Once again, how different is this from what already happens?

I know, there are people who actually have integrity out there and take objective stands when it comes to their reviews. I have friends who do reviews. I do them for Kirkus Reviews and Kirkus Discoveries (though some might dispute this as book reviewing). The point however, is that the dust this Amazon "offer" is generating is perhaps a bit disingenuous. Mutual back scratching is a part of self-promotion and it is no different in publishing or in used car sales.

Though I wish the publishing industry had the auto sales equivalent of the Car Fax!

What do you think?

To Outline or not to Outline, That Is the Question

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Mon, 20 Jun 2011 20:04:00 +0000

I was talking with a writer recently and we got into a heated argument about writing and planning. Basically the conversation when like this:

Me: Maybe you should do an outline of your story?
Him: Outline! Never! I can't control my creative process; I need to be free and unhindered as a writer!
Me: (rolling eyes) Okay, well, sometimes it helps to get a plan for your writing.
Him: Never! Creativity needs to flow like a river, not be contained in some box like a plan or outline!
Me: (sighing) Well, even a river has banks that direct the flow of water and rivers seem to flow just fine.
Him: No! I just have to struggle with my creative process ... it's part of being an artist. You just don't understand!

That's the jist of the conversation, exclamation points and all. The debate here is an age-old one between artists and their process. Can you still be creative without imposing constraints on the creative process? Can a painter paint without knowing what they will paint before hand? Can a sculptor sculpt without knowing where they will chip away the stone? Can a writer write without an outline or some plan of attack? And if there are such plans does that somehow diminish the process of creation?

All valid questions, but all are based on a fallacy: creativity has no constraints.

The fact is ALL creative people plan, outline, constrain, and contain their process (not their creativity!), I don't care what their art. Since we're all writers, let's just look at writing.

You sit down at your writing-place and begin your session. You don't know what you are going to do, how you are going to do it, and refuse to think about your story in any way. You are just going to let the process run free like that river. Oh the joy, oh the freedom, oh the ... wait ... nothing is happening. The paper or computer screen is blank. WTF is wrong?

What's wrong is that the above scenario is a setup for failure. The only way this writer is going to produce any work is if he/she starts to automatic write or channel some disembodied entity, in which case they are not being a writer, they are only being a channel for someone(thing) else who is doing the writing.

No, this above scenario can't happen, if a writer wants to write. Yes, people claim the do this, but they are not telling themselves the truth about what is really going on. Even if you sit down with nothing in your head, no plan, no organization, something will come. An idea will happen and then A will lead to B will lead to C and some logic will be imposed that determines what happens next. Even if the logic only goes for one or two scenes, the writer still has to wonder what is the next scene? What came before this scene? How is this person going to act in the scene? Uh, I don't mean to burst the bubble, but this is called planning. This is called outlining. Even if it only goes for two scenes and all happens in your head, you're organizing and outlining your story. Every writer does it; every writer can't not do it. It is a function of the creative process. EVERY creative person plans, organizes, and imposes logical rules on their creative output whether they want to admit it or not. How far they go, how detailed they get, is all a matter of personal pathology (how controlling do you have to be?), not a function of outlining or organizing.

The point is that the debate about whether or not you can be a writer and still use outlines and organization of your material is a false debate. Just as a river has banks that form and direct the flow of water, every writer has banks of their creative river that gives form, direction, and flow to their writing process, without stifling or smothering that creativity. Frankly, it is only the amateur who thinks he/she has to be completely spontaneous and unencumbered by process in order to achieve his/her creative vision. Any pro knows that such an approach is a dead end, and that real writing requires imposing limits, while at the same time leveraging those limits to the full advantage of any story.

Outlining is a matter of craft, not art. Organizing is a function of being a professional, not of being a cretin. Planning is the royal road to productivity, not a dead end of creativity.

So, stop worrying about whether you are outlining or planning your work; you're already doing it.

If You Build It--You Might Get Published!

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Fri, 13 May 2011 17:45:00 +0000

Go back with me now, to the days of yesteryear, when books were published because they had interesting ideas in them, and “literary” wasn’t a four-letter-word, and publishers actually promoted their books and their authors. “Did such a golden time ever exist?” you ask? Yes, it did. But, it is gone forever. “Oh!” You reply in shocked disappointment. “Replaced by what?”

The age of visual media killed that “golden time” deader than Arnold Schwarzenegger's marriage (never forget the dangers of having secret families!). The word on the page is almost secondary now to other factors. Not only are an author’s age and looks key variables in the sales equation but, increasingly, publishers are now looking for something more: writers who will not only churn out pot boilers, but who also come prepared to be active players in the sales cycle. We’re talking about: writers with a “platform.”

“Platform” is the new jargon, buzzword, and lingua franca, whatever you want to call it, of the publishing world. Having a platform is, in fact, often the determining factor in whether a book and author get a publishing deal! No longer is it enough to turn a nice phrase or have something interesting to say.

Now you need:

An author website with full e-commerce capability, subscriber login, SEO (search engine optimization) design, and fully interactive, flash-enabled functionality.
An author blog (minimal hits per day in the hundreds).
Reciprocal links to other blogs who reference author’s blog.
Link exchanges with other websites to cross-advertise website/blog
An author newsletter (preferably with 3 thousand or more subscribers).
Web statistics proving hits, subscribers base, and link exchanges and reach/frequency of author’s over all web presence.
Social networking tie-ins (Facebook, Twitter, Myspace)
Podcast library of quick tips/advice w/ subscription base (available on iTunes, etc.)
Video/book trailers
Free list building products (video clips of advice, sample chapters, etc.)
Guest blogging on related sites
PPC advertising
Article marketing
Lecture/keynote speaking at writer’s conferences, publishing industry panels, and other high-profile writing venues

All these new goodies are in addition to the traditional promotional elements used by publishers and publicists: radio spots, readings, print ads, reviews, etc. But, more and more, before any of the traditional promo is considered, authors are expected to have their platform already in place and humming, and thousands of moon-eyed admirers flocking to their various electronic feeding stations. “We are Borg—resistance is futile.” It may sound like I’m lamenting the loss of innocence of some bygone age of author-centric, when-book-was-king publishing. Not really. Even before the Internet age publishing was cutthroat and tough-as-nails, and many an author was chewed up in the machinery of the book-promo sales cycle. The ironic thing is that the new-media age has actually opened up real possibilities for authors to become more independent and more powerful in the sales and promotion of their work.

Many authors are deciding to just bypass the traditional publishing companies and brand themselves on the Internet through self-publishing options like iUniverse or CreateSpace, or simply through setting up their own boutique publishing companies. Hey, if we have to go to all the time and expense of platforming ourselves, why not just take the whole publishing enchilada in our own hands and live and die by our own bad selves? Rather than a bane, I think platforming may be a boon to writers. And if you haven’t already figured it out—you’re reading part of my own platform right now. And yes—you will be assimilated!

Afghan Women Writer's Project - Heroines in the Making

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 17:35:00 +0000

---THIS IS A RE-POST FROM AN EARLIER POST LAST YEAR---

The next time I hear a writer whine about how hard it is to be a writer, or how difficult their lives are that they can't find time to write, or how much struggle there is in being a creative person—I'm going to punch them in the nose. And then I'm going to make them read every single blog on the Afghan Women's Writers Project blog site.

You think you have it bad? You think working a job, raising a family, working with reduced income and peevish spouses who pout because you spend too much time writing are all too much to bear? Well, my dears, how about this:

Being told by your brothers they'll cut your legs off unless you stop writing.
Being told if you try to leave or escape then they'll beat your mother to death.
Being told by the Taliban to quite your job because you are a woman and you shouldn't be working, and if you don't quite they will kidnap you, your, brother and your father and KILL EVERYONE.
Being married off to some old fart in your village for six thousand dollars and then being told you'll have to stop writing OR ELSE.
Being afraid to go to an Internet cafe to write because women aren't allowed to be in such a place, and if you are spotted then you and your family will have to move to a new city because you'll ALL BE KILLED.

Okay you poor, struggling artist ... do you still want to complain? God I hope not, because I'll have to punch you in the nose!

I'm frustrated and in despair for these women. But, I'm also inspired, emboldened, out-raged, in-raged, liberated and humbled by their courage and spirit. They are the heroines and the role models writers everywhere can look to for the promise of the future. Creative people have always been on the cutting edge of freedom and insurgency, both politically and spiritually. Male or female, we all have something to learn from what the Afghan women are teaching us. The word is mightier than the sword, or the burqa, or the Taliban. They might cut off our heads, cut off our legs, murder our families, and rape us (yes, they do that to men and women), but they will lose. They have already lost. The women writers of Afghanistan make this obvious.

These women are my sisters. And I'm honored to be a part of that family ... even if I have never met them, or may never meet them. Fight for freedom, fight for dignity and fight for voice. Support the Afghan Women's Writing Project. Read their blogs, donate money, help us get them computers so they can write from home using safe Internet connections. For a little money we can send a message to the dark forces of the world that you cannot silence human dignity!

Here is information you can use to act, I ask you to do what you can:

Blog Site: http://www.awwproject.org/

Fight the good fight and add a few sisters to your family.

Book Trailers: A Critical Part of Your Author Platform

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Sun, 27 Mar 2011 17:43:00 +0000

Trailers have been around forever, even for books. But, they have traditionally been reserved for celebrity authors, or trust-fund-baby authors who could spring for them on their own. And, these were usually TV commercials or radio promos. Expensive, effective, and sometimes paid for by publishers in the bygone days when pubs actually promoted author's work.

Now, as the publishing industry morphs into something still unrecognizable and as the Internet continues to level the publishing playing field, the book trailer is coming of age. The ubiquitous author platform (that animal every author needs, but that few author's know they need) now has a new essential component: the book trailer.

If you haven't seen one of these animals, go to Book Trailers, a Blogspot blog. This site lets you view a host of genres and associated book trailers. Novelist Masha Hamilton did her own book trailer for her new novel, "31 Hours," which cost her a pretty penny, but this kind of exposure and advertising is essential now to promote one's work. One of my favorites is a trailer for the New Zealand Book Council, promoting a New Zealand author Maurice Gee's new book "Going West." This is one of the most imaginative and effective trailers I have seen. But, it also illustrates the growing challenge for writers.

No longer can a writer get away with a low-quality, bare-bones marketing campaign. You have to have high production values, which means spending thousand on trailers, websites, SEO (Search Engine Optimization) gurus, and maintenance costs maintaining all these new platforms (gotta pay some techie to make fixes, changes, etc.).

So, herein lies the new challenge: when publishers refuse to spend money promoting authors, and expect the authors to fund this themselves as much as possible, how is a first-time writer expected to compete if h/she doesn't have the marketing budget to set up a website, develop a book trailer, hire SEO experts to get their trailer/site visible on the Web, etc.?

"The publishing problem has been solved," as one publishing luminary has said. But, with more control and power over our work, with the ability to now publish ourselves in a professional and polished way ... the old phrase "with great power comes great responsibility" takes on profound new meaning. Because, with great power and great responsibility also comes great dollar expenditures. I'm not complaining. The new directions and opportunities for self-publishing and the power of the Internet to level the publishing playing field are awesome and exciting. But, the message to writers is loud and clear: we must start seeing our work as a business, as well as an art, and become writer-entrepreneurs. The days of "big daddy publishing" picking up the bills and doing all the work are long gone.

We are now our own publishers—it's a good thing, but gosh it sure gets expensive!

Blogs-to-Books: Cashing in on the Blogosphere

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 18:51:00 +0000

In the race to monetize new media, new strategies are emerging every month (or so it seems). One that is paying off for some writers is to transform their blogs into books. Several well-known blogs have already capitalized on this trend: Julie & Julia, PostSecret, and Stuff White People Like. In the case of Julie & Julia, the author, Julie Powell, has cashed in on a major movie deal with the result being a wonderful studio picture written and directed by Nora Ephron and starring Meryl Streep. Beats a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, eh Julie?

Since 2005, publishers have been looking to the Internet for new opportunities and grist for the pub mill. What they are finding is that there is a lot of "talent" out there. "Talent" here does not mean we're talking about high literature; what it means is that bloggers are producing high-concept, commercial, and marketable fare that adapt well to traditional formats—voila, profit center. Make no mistake, some of these blogger/authors are writing some fun, entertaining blogs. Julie Powell's is a great example of a personal journey worthy of any literary treatment. Julie's story would have made a great book right from the git-go. But, if you look at the other two blogs mentioned earlier, you'll see instantly how they could adapt to a nonfiction format designed for any coffee table.

It should be noted that when I say blog-to-book I'm not talking about the numerous companies (Blogbinders, Blog Books, Blog2Print, etc.) "out there" who provide fee-based services for you to "transform" your blog into a printed book. These are fine for vanity projects, or folks who want a down-dirty hard copy. NO, I'm talking about a traditional publisher and/or agent making a deal with you to get your blog published in a traditional way.

So, what do you have to do to transform your blog into a book? Or is this some backward step in media evolution? Should authors shun "old" forms like print media and look forward—always forward?

Consider what several bloggers told Mashable: The Social Media Guide regarding their recent blog-to-book deals:

Blogger: Ben Huh

Blog: A collection of photos and videos depicting various kinds of failure. Huh acquired the blog in January of 2008 with his company, Pet Holdings — of I Can Has Cheezburger? fame.

Book: Fail Nation: A Visual Romp Through the World of Epic Fails, released in October 2009 by Harper Paperbacks, is basically the blog in book form — except formatted like a travel guide with landmarks and cultural notes.

Public Reaction: “We’ve helped infect the Internet with cat fever and popularize the word ‘FAIL’ world over.”

Highest traffic point: “Every month, we currently have 220 million page views and more than 12 million people coming to the Cheezburger Network.”

How did the book deal come about?: “We were contacted by several literary agents and we pushed it off for a while until we finally had the time to do it.”

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Blogger: Pamela Slim

Blog: Escape From Cubicle Nation shows readers how to do just that — bust out free from those three gray walls and start their own businesses.

Book: Escape From Cubicle Nation: From Corporate Prisoner to Thriving Entrepreneur, released in April 2009 by Portfolio Hardcover, is a guidebook containing Slim’s best material instructing corporate drones how to strike out on their lonesomes.

Highest traffic point: “At it’s highest point, it was about 100,000 page views a month. I have never had a tremendously high traffic blog or large number of subscribers. But I have a lot of really nice readers who happen to be the kind of people who pass on my articles to others.”

How did the book deal come about?: “I got my current book deal when my publisher (Penguin/Portfolio) approached me. I had dabbled in the idea of writing a book before and had met an agent through another author friend, but the effort didn’t really go anywhere. Frustrated by lack of action and no creativity in coming up with a good proposal, I just gave up and went back to blogging. About a year and a half later, I got an e-mail from Penguin saying they were very interested in my writing and wondered if I could put together a proposal. Since they were my number one choice for a publishing house, I moved like lightening. We closed a deal in six weeks.”
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Blogger: Walker Lamond

Blog: A collection fatherly advice on how to be a good man.

Book: Rules for My Unborn Son, released in October 2009 by St. Martins — like the blog — offers a collection of advice from father to son.

Public Reaction: “My mom really likes it. And as it turns out, quite a few other people too. Within a few weeks of going online, I attracted my core group of a few thousand readers–mostly thanks to the Tumblr community, which (contrary to popular opinion of bloggers) is incredibly supportive, especially to new writers and ideas. I thought more people might call me out on being too earnest or square, but the reaction from most people has been really positive. You need a break from the snark and irony once in a while.”

Traffic-driving methods: “Tumblr. Without it I have no idea how anyone outside my group of friends would have found the site. But the staff at Tumblr and a few of the popular bloggers saw it and wrote about it, and I was off and running. Twitter has been a surprisingly good way to get more readers. The content on my site seems well suited for it, simply because it is short and a whole post usually fits in one tweet. It doesn’t drive people to my website, but the content gets passed around and I think that has helped strengthen the brand if you will.”

Highest traffic point: “That’s like asking someone their salary. It’s not a runaway hit like Penguins or What Fat People Like or one of those hot memes, but I think more people have read my site than say, the books of Ethan Hawke. So that’s something.”

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These are just three examples from the December 17, 2009 post at Mashable: The Social Media Guide. One thing to note on all these examples is the volume of hits per month (average). In order to get noticed by potential agents and pubs your blog will have to be in the hundreds of thousands or millions of hits per month. This is a lot of traffic! So, one of the success factors for getting your blog-to-book involves really savvy social network marketing strategizing on your part and really, really, really good SEO (search engine optimization). I'm going to do a more detailed post later down the line about steps bloggers need to take to leverage this process of book-to-blog for maximum results. I'm working with a friend on turning her terrific blog into a book, as we "speak," so I'll have some real-world experience with this in short order.

In the meantime, my take on this is pretty simple. Worry about print in ten years, not now. Right now, everything is on the table. Books are not going anywhere, but they are going to move into the background and lose their primacy as first-and-only choice for readers. As e-books evolve and become more viral, their print versions will become the aftermarket, rather than the other way around. But, right now print books are selling very well (not fiction!—nonfiction). Leveraging this fact is only smart if a blogger has a marketable idea that will translate to a printed page.

It's not enough to just write your clever blog. You have to market it, make it as viral as H1N1, and build your base into millions of hits. This means using every social media trick in the book—pun intended. Blog-to-book—one more window opens for writers, and it's a good thing.

Twitter-Lit: Pushes to Become Real Lit!

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Thu, 25 Nov 2010 02:10:00 +0000

Would you pay 30$ for a hardcover book of tweets from your favorite Twitter-lit author? (See my earlier posts on Twitter-lit.)

Apparently, there are a lot of people who are interested in doing just that. In fact, an enterprising web-strategy agency called Definitely Something has started a project called TweetBookz, designed to help twits (excuse me ... I mean tweeters) to self-publish their Twitter-lit and then sell their labors in the form of an actual book.

In an interview with Mediabistro's Galleycat, Definitely Something's Rob Goldstone gave a little background about their effort:

"Most of our work is spent on sites like Twitter, on behalf of our clients, and one day we started joking around with the idea that it would be cool to see all our writing in a more permanent form ... So far the reactions have been very positive, with early book orders and lots of blogs picking up on the story. We hope its just the beginning and are ready for the holiday shopping boom."
(Mediabistro 2009, Galleycat Interview with Rob Goldstone)

Regarding who might want to do this, Goldstone commented:

"Others may create books of the tweets they consider their funniest or most inspiration. Some may go to the extreme and pick only tweets about the basics of life such as what they ate or what they did that day. We'd also love to see companies active on Twitter ordering their own TweetBookz as gifts for their employees or customers."
(Mediabistro 2009, Galleycat Interview with Rob Goldstone)

So, what does it all mean? This is not just an enterprising company leveraging some flavor-of-the-month web service. This effort may end up just an "expensive mistake," but it might also be the first of a trend that grows. Self-publishing on the web is ubiquitous and growing exponentially every month. As a publishing luminary said, "The publishing problem has been solved." Meaning, if you want to publish, you are no longer at sufferance to the traditional publishing companies. Literally anyone can cheaply and effectively publish their work, and find an audience.

Obviously, quality control is an issue, and herein lies a major role played by publishers—they filter the flotsam and jetsam. But, now you can hire the same QA services from a subsidy publisher, or third-party editors (another area growing leaps and bounds). The changing role of publishers is a whole, complex post in and of itself, and maybe one day, when I feel like typing a lot, I'll do that post, but for now the point is that Tweetbookz is another example of how it is all changing. Creative people are leveraging technology to increase opportunities for writers—and that's enough to make us all sit up and take notice.

Will it be a flash in the pan? Who knows and who cares. I'm all for anything that gets people writing, expressing themselves and finding their voices, even if it means doing so in 140-character tweets.

Wave of Change? Or Sunami?

noreply@blogger.com (Jeff Lyons) — Fri, 17 Sep 2010 18:52:00 +0000

My head is spinning!

I’m currently involved in producing a movie for DVD release. No, I’m not bragging. It’s still in the financing phase, so it could all just go bye-bye any moment … kind of like Bear Sterns or Lehman Brothers … anyway, my point is that this movie I’m doing is also going to be put up as a webseries. I’m telling you all this because the education I am getting and the slap-upside-my-head experience of researching how webseries need to be “put up” and the wild west nature of this whole process has my head spinning.

In all the spinning, however, I’ve gotten glimpses of a wave of change that is sweeping over the Internet effecting writers of every stripe. This blog entry cannot possibly address all that could or should be said about this. But, hopefully this will generate some dialogue about the topics I’m going to discuss and through this discussion perhaps we will all get a better grasp of what is quickly turning from wave into a sumani.

First off, who is at risk? Yes, I use the word “risk” intentionally. Everyone who writes in formats considered “old media” are at risk. This list includes: novelists, poets, short story writers, playwrights, screenwriters, journalists, academicians, and anyone else who has something to say in the written word (bloggers excluded). Now don’t panic, books are not going anywhere, or films/TV, or short story collections, etc. The risk part has to do with missing out on all the new formats and distribution channels developing to get your work into the “hands” of potential readers. What are these new and risky avenues? Here is a short list, and I’m excluding all the “old,” boring platforms like e-books (soooo 20th Century!):

(Blurbs courtesy of Wikipedia)

Webisodes: A webisode is an episode of a television show that airs initially as an Internet download or stream as opposed to first airing on broadcast or cable television. A webisode is simply a web episode —collectively it is part of a web series, which features a dramatic, serial storyline, where the primary method of viewership is streaming online over the Internet.

Mobisodes: Mobisode is a term for a broadcast television episode specially made for viewing on a mobile telephone screen and usually of short duration (from one to three minutes).

Cell Phone Novels: See my July 13, 2008 entry on this. Cell phone or mobile phone novels are meant to be read in 1,000 to 2,000-word (in China) or 70-word (in Japan) chapters via text message on mobile phones. They are downloaded in short installments and run on handsets as Java-based applications on a mobile phone. Cell phone novels often appear in three different formats: WMLD, JAVA and TXT.

Podcasts: A podcast is a series of audio or video digital-media files which is distributed over the Internet by syndicated download, through Web feeds, to portable media players and personal computers.

Mashups: A digital mashup is a digital media file containing any or all of text, graphics, audio, video and animation drawn from pre-existing sources, to create a new derivative work.

Podiobooks: A specific form of mashup. These are serialized novels or short stories in podcast format, which mix mixed media, narrative, audio, and anything else the writer can squeeze into it. These are very akin to the old radio dramas of the 1930s. (Amazingly there is no Wiki entry on this yet)

Net-Native Narratives: Also, no Wiki entry for this yet. This is very new stuff. This is a form of storytelling that marries traditional narratives with gaming ARG (Alternate Reality Game) environments to create an interactive, immersive narrative experience. Imagine Moby Dick as an interactive, ARG experience. Ok, maybe not the best choice, but how about Dracula?

A writer can certainly choose to ignore all of these tempting tidbits and simply churn out traditional hard copy. This does not make you a Luddite (look it up if you don’t know the term). The John Updikes and the Amy Tans of the literary world will still wow us with their prose and enchant us with great storytelling. But, the Stephen Kings, Dean Koontzes, and Robin Cooks of the world will write their books AND are putting up webisodes and podiobooks and expanding their readership exponentially, attracting readers/viewers they would have missed entirely if they had just relied on pure hard copy and the marketing might of their publishers.

The other empowering aspect of all these tempting tidbits is that authors are now becoming more empowered to take control of how their work is disseminated and this can only be a good thing. For a writer to remain solely at the beck-and-call of their publisher for exposure and distribution is completely unnecessary with all these new technologies. Publishers are pulling back on support for their authors anyway, so now writers are much more capable of taking the reigns of their promotion and distribution into their own hands. Missing this opportunity is one of the main things writers risk by ignoring all these new developments.

Now, it doesn’t mean you have to go back to school and get a degree in Artificial Intelligence for M.I.T. There are lots of companies, services, and consultants out there now to help you develop your work into these new formats—yes, for a price. But, freedom doesn’t come cheap. Nor should it.

Okay. If your head is spinning, join the club. I’m going to leave it at this. Potential, possibility, and opportunity: these are the watchwords for the future. Welcome to a brave new world. Big Brother is watching, but the good news is he’s paying for the privilege through service fees, website memberships, and pay-per-click advertising dollars. Spin, spin, spin.

More on this to come. I have to go lie down.