The Other Side of the Story

Make it Stick – The Art of the Chapter Ending

2013-06-19T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Tiffany Reisz, @tiffanyreisz

You never forget your first time. Your first time you read a book and one single sentence blows the top of your head off and makes you realize the terrifying power of what a great writer can accomplished with a few simple words. Every professional writer has that first moment of breathless chills like a caffeine pill has just kicked in and you feel like the words you read are not words but wings and you can fly with them.

My first time was with Robert Penn Warren and the book All the King’s Men. It was the summer of 1998. The book starts out slow. There’s a road and a driver and a group of men in a drugstore. The voice of Jack Burden, the book narrator’s slowly starts to seep into the brain and take possession of it so entirely you can’t tell your own inner voice from Jack’s. Jack is a political operative for Governor Stark. Stark’s got enemies as all politicians do. It’s Jack’s job to dig up dirt on the enemies and neutralize their threat to the governor. By the end of chapter one, it’s clear who the enemy is who will be the focus of the novel—Judge Irwin, an old family friend of Jack’s. Governor Stark is insistent—Jack has to get the dirt. This is how chapter one of All the King’s Men ends.

Governor Stark, speaking of the dirt Jack needs to get on Judge Irwin says:

“And make it stick.”

Which leads to the greatest chapter ending in the history of English literature.

Little Jackie made it stick, all right.

I still have the copy of that book I read in the summer of 1998, that sentence highlighted in fading yellow. The moment I read that final sentence of chapter one, I couldn’t put the book down. It was glued to my hand for days. That sentence was a canon shot that blasted me through the entire book. I had to find out what dirt Jack dug up on the Judge and what the fallout was that led him to tell this story years later. That one sentence is so cemented into my brain that I might utter it as my last words on my deathbed, because no other words are so deeply burned into my brain. Nobody can end a chapter like Robert Penn Warren. But we can try.

Last week on Twitter, an aspiring writer said to me, “You end chapters so well. Is there a writing guide that teaches how to do that?” I told her, “Skip the writing guides. Read All the King’s Men.”

After telling her that, I realized she might be looking for more concrete advice than “Go read a novel about southern political intrigue written in 1947.” Using examples from my own books, I’ll show you three great ways to end chapters so that the sentences will stick in your readers’ minds and keep them turning pages.

Chapter Ending #1 –The Shocker

No, I’m not referring to the sexual practice (see the cover of Andrew Shaffer’s Fifty Shames of Earl Grey for a visual of the sexual shocker). I’m referring to how a skilled writer can shock a reader with new information in a single line with The Shocker technique. If you have a shocking moment in your book, put in at the very end of a chapter. I guarantee your readers won’t be able to put the book down once you shock them hard enough.

In my first novel, The Siren, I employ the shocker on several occasions. In chapter five, my leading lady Nora, an erotica writer, is on killer deadlines. She sits down and writes a long, explicit S&M sex scene involving an unnamed man flogging an unnamed woman before tying her to the bed and having his brutal way with her. Fairly typical erotica scene. Except afterwards she deletes every single word she’s just written. A write on deadlines deletes an entire scene? Why? When her roommate/intern asks her why she deleted everything she wrote that day, she answers in three words.

“It wasn’t fiction.”

BAM! Now the reader knows that the unnamed woman is Nora and the scene is from her past, not her novel. This woman is more than she appears. When did Nora have this sexual encounter? Why does it consume her thoughts even though she’s on deadlines? And who is this mysterious man this powerful woman once submitted to sexually? Three words raise a dozen questions, and the reader must keep reading if she wants the answers.

Chapter Ending #2 – The Big Question

The Big Question—usually this refers to a marriage proposal and a marriage proposal is not a bad way to end a chapter. Who could put a book down on a “Will you marry me?” without turning to the next chapter to find out the answer? But a chapter can end on any big question as long as the outcome of that question affects the book in a profound way.

In book two in my Original Sinners series, The Angel, I end part one of the two-part book on a question. A nosy reporter has been following my anti-hero, kinky Catholic priest Father Stearns around. An anonymous tip has her convinced there’s more to him than meets the eye. But no amount of digging has revealed anything except that he’s a beloved, admired, and respected 47 year-old Jesuit priest who just happens to be incredibly handsome. For all her digging, beautiful young Suzanne has made only two discoveries—Father Stearns is a good priest and she wants to seduce him so much it hurts.

In the final scene of part one of The Angel, Suzanne wakes up on Father Stearn’s sofa. They’d been chatting at the rectory until the wee hours, and she’s dozed off. She hears him walking around upstairs and decides to go up and tell him goodbye. The reader knows that Father Stearns has a lover, my leading lady Nora. The reader also knows that Father Stearns never kisses or has sex with anyone but Nora. Suzanne only knows she’s wildly attracted to him but can’t let her feelings get in the way of her investigation. She climbs the stairs and wanders to what she thinks is his office. Instead it’s his bedroom and he’s undressing for bed with his back to her. She sees him. He seemingly doesn’t see her. This is how that chapter ends:

Never in her life had she seen a man with a more exquisite body… every inch of his back rippled with lean muscle, his biceps were ridged with sinewy veins. The long line of his spine was a canyon she wanted to traverse with her lips again and again…Her fingers tingled, her nipples tightened, and liquid heat gathered in deep in her stomach.

“Suzanne, are you planning on standing in the hallway all night staring at me? Or are you coming in?”

And then I, the writer, close the door. Part two of the book begins six weeks later. I could hear the screams of readers all the way to my house in Kentucky. I smiled as I heard them scream. You better believe no one put the book down for the night at the end of that question. They all turned the page and kept turning until the found out the answer to the question, “Are you coming in?” Did Father Stearns betray Nora and have sex with someone else? Did Suzanne discover his deep dark secrets that night—that he’s a sadist with a lover and is intimately connected to Manhattan’s kink underground? What happened?

When you end a chapter on a big question, readers will keep reading until they find out the answer.

Chapter Ending #3 –The Promise

The Promise is one of my favorite ways to end a chapter. It’s a promise between the writer and the reader. A good ending that uses The Promise technique promises the reader that if they keep reading, they’ll read something they like.

For example, in The Mistress, book four in the Original Sinners series, Nora has been kidnapped. The kidnapper has a sadistic streak and enjoys forcing Nora to play the role of Scheherazade, telling entertaining bedtime stories to stay alive. These stories must be true and from Nora’s past. At the end of chapter seventeen, the kidnapper gloats about the fact that once upon a time, she broke up the teenage love affair between the two men who would one day be the two most important men in Nora’s life. Nora strikes back and says she’s wrong, that she didn’t break them up. The kidnapper is shocked and asks Nora to elaborate. The chapter ends thusly:

“Let’s just say that tonight, if you want it, I’ll have one hell of a bedtime story for you.”

The kidnapper has to wait for the answer until bedtime. Nora won’t say a word more until then. Knowledge is power and Nora knows that this story is one that will keep her alive another night. Nora’s made a promise to the kidnapper, and I’ve made a promise to the reader—you keep reading and you’ll find out what Nora’s talking about, keep reading and you’ll get a glimpse of a sexual encounter that proves everything the kidnapper thinks and believes is wrong. End your chapter on a promise and then deliver big on that promise. You’ll build trust between you and your readers, and they’ll keep coming back for more.

There you go! While other writers are ending their chapters with everyone going to bed and turning off the lights or something equally dull, you’ll be blowing your readers out of the water with chapter endings that force them to keep reading. Do it well enough, and you’ll have your readers on the hook so firmly they won’t stop reading until they hit the last page.

One final piece of advice on ending chapters…

Make it stick.

Tiffany Reisz is the award-winning and international bestselling author of The Original Sinners series (Mira Books). When she’s not writing, she’s thinking of new ways to torture her readers with chapter endings that make them call her a sadist on Twitter. Tiffany takes this as a compliment.

Follow her on Twitter @tiffanyreisz (if you dare).

And the Winner of the Embarrassment Contest is...

2013-06-18T08:08:00.001-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

It was fun getting back to the contests this week, and you guys gave me some really cringe-worthy moments of embarrassment (um, that sounds bad, but knowing what this contest was about, that's a good thing!)

Everyone did a great job with this exercise. I hope these examples helped the original question-asked and gave her some insights on how to revise her own embarrassment scene.

Here are the finalists:

Amy Schaefer

By the time I had crossed the field, stumbling past colleagues and dodging the sack race, I was hyperventilating. Denial kept me in motion – as long as I was walking, I could pretend it hadn’t happened. I landed at Karen’s elbow, hands clenched to keep from plucking at her sleeve like a three-year-old.

Months later, she was still yakking. “Would you excuse us?” I hauled her away, throwing a painful smile at whomever she was talking to. It could have been a yeti for all I noticed.

Karen yanked her arm away. “Frank,” she hissed, “what is the matter with you?”

I’m dying, I thought. “We have to go.”

“But... your company picnic? Why?”

My breath huffed out in a whine. Why couldn’t Karen ever just go along? I leaned in. “IgrabbedMrSullivan’sbuttinthefoodline.” Panic gripped my chest as I remembered getting a handful of an unexpectedly large denim-covered posterior. And Sullivan’s face...

“What?”

I was almost crying by now. Any minute, the rumor was going to sweep through the group, and my life was going to end. “I thought it was you behind me!” Staying it aloud, I started to melt into a puddle of shame in the grass. How had I managed to feel up a fifty-year old man instead of my girlfriend?

Before Karen could say anything, Steve Lang draped himself over our shoulders, grinning like an idiot. “You guys. Some doofus just goosed Bill Sullivan over at the meat table.”

Karen hitched up her purse. “I’ll drive.”

What I like about this one is the strong voice and good balance between internalization, action, and dialog. I feel like I'm right there with this guy as he's trying to survive this moment.

Julie O

Oh my God, I’ve got to get out of here.

Eyes were on her from all directions. She could hear sporadic snickering and shushing as heat rose from her neck filling her face like somebody pouring coffee in a cup.

Where the hell is the door in this place? She thought frantically as her eyes darted past people and tables, searching for an exit sign.

“Towel?” Interrupted a waitress behind her, as her knee jerked, hitting the table and causing the plates to create a dissonant yet thankfully short symphony.

More laughter from the other diners.

Seriously, will this nightmare not end? “Thank you. I… I, uh have to go.” She trailed off, uncertain how to finish.

“The party you were meeting?” The waitress asked, with a half smile half smirk, knowing very well she’d been stood up.

“He’s been in an accident.” She lied before she could stop herself.

Oh my God, why did I say that?

The waitress’s shoulders dropped, along with the smirk from her face. “Oh my gosh hun, I hope he’s ok.” The waitress said as she took Mary by the hand escorting her out.

Holy crap, she actually believes me.

The remains of her third cucumber martini, which was now soaked into her dress, mixed with the air conditioning, completely dousing the heat of embarrassment.

“Well, it doesn’t look good. I have to get to the hospital.” She said loud enough for her snickering audience to hear before trailing off again.

What I like here is how the narrator sees things at their absolute worst because that's how she feels. Is everyone there really laughing at her? Who knows, but she sure thinks so, and that adds to her embarrassment. The lie to cover is a great--and totally human--thing to do.

Garry Montgomery

She staggered clumsily as she rushed from the room. Her face glowed red with embarrassment and she felt as though her neck was shrinking into her collar. What did I just say? She tried to remember exactly what had happened. I wanted to let him down easily, but when his sister walked up behind me . . .

She swung violently at the rose bush as she walked by and uttered a foul curse as a thorn tore into her flesh.

Why does this happen to me? Why do I always end up as the victim? She was sure that everybody in the street had overheard the one-sided conversation and were staring, waiting for an encore. She kicked at the rock on the sidewalk, misjudged, and fell onto her behind. “Dammit!”

The object of her ire, only a few paces behind, reached down and lifted her to her feet. “I’m afraid I didn’t understand a word of what you said inside. You were in such a rush none if it made sense. Sis had her earbuds blaring and was of no help.”

How stupid of me, she thought, embracing him. “I’m sorry. I was confused and rambled on. Can I try again?”

His look of deep concern put her at ease. “Of course.”

She realized that her actions had been hasty and senseless, “I was hurt and upset because you forgot to make reservations for the weekend. Are we still on?” and she breathed a sigh of relief.

What I like about this one is how the embarrassment is more external than internal, with her kicking the bushes and acting out. She's in her head, but it's not a heavy internal monologue.

And the winner is...

Amy Schaefer

What pushed this over the top for me was how seamlessly everything flowed. I really related to Frank and his horrible blunder, and how he tried not to say what actually happened. I felt his mortification without being told he was mortified. His actions and thoughts made that clear. The final line just sealed it for me. Karen's complete understanding and sympathy of the situation in just two words.

Amy Schaefer, just contact me at janice (@) janicehardy (dot) com for your critique.

Grats and fantastic job to everyone!

How to Write Characters Who Don't Sound Like You

2013-06-17T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Good characters step off the page and into readers' hearts, but that doesn't happen if all the characters sound the same. Too-similar voices can make it hard to tell characters apart and they wind up blending together into one big character mush. (And really, who likes mush?)

It can be even more challenging when all the characters sound like you. You've worked hard to develop your author's voice, but now it's getting in the way and keeping those characters from finding their voices.

Let's look at some ways to develop a unique voice for every character.

5 Ways to Develop Character Voices

1. How do they greet people?

People say hello differently. Sometimes it's a regional or cultural thing, or even a personal style. Is your character a "Yo what's up?" kind of gal, or a "So good to see you" type? How she greets someone says a lot about where she grew up, where she lives now, and how open she is toward others. Understanding her personality can help determine what her voice sounds like.

If she's a boisterous greeter, odds are she's boisterous in other ways as well. Or maybe she likes to draw attention to herself, so she's the one who frequently interrupts or always has something to add to a conversation. If she gives a weak "hi" then she might be the quiet one who rarely gives more than a one- or two-word answer.

(More on developing non-POV character voices here)

2. How do they answer questions?

Does he give one-word answers or way-too-much information? Does he get right to the point or is there a story attached to it? Someone who's reluctant to answer might also be a guy who doesn't like to talk a lot or reveal too much about himself. A gal who says too much might be a talker in all aspects of her life and have a hard time getting to a point. The reluctant guy might be a "Hey" kind of greeter, while the Chatty Cathy probably never just says hello.

3. Doe they make questions or statements?

How does your character respond when presented with someone else's problem? Does he ask questions or make statements about what to do? Someone who judges a situation and immediately decides what has to be done is a different personality type from someone who questions it before making a decision. The jump-to-it guy always knows what to do (even when he's wrong) and might sound bossy or confident. The thoughtful guy might appear hesitant or meek (even when he's not) or might seem wise because he always asks the right questions.

The meek "hi" greeter isn't the one who's likely to make statements about what has to be done in a problem, even if she happens to know exactly what to do. The attention hog who greets everyone by name and makes sure they all know he's there will jump right in and share what he thinks.

(More on developing character voices here)

4. What's their education?

Education plays a role in how we communicate. Is this a gal will a large vocabulary who likes to use it, or someone with a limited vocabulary who uses a lot of slang or clichés? Take it a step further and think about why she speaks as she does. Is she self conscious about her Ph.D and purposefully tries to sound dumber to fit in (or hide something) or a smart gal who never got past high school who tries hard to sound more educated?

Maybe that boisterous greeter who makes statements instead of asking questions is really insecure about his lack of education, and overcompensates by always acting like he knows what to do or what's going on. Or the meek greeter asks questions because she's not sure she really understands what's happening and doesn't want to appear dumb. Or the friendly greeter asks a lot of questions to determine the best course of action because she truly wants to help and has the smarts to actually offer good advice. (See how these all build upon each other?)

5. Where's their hometown?

Regions have different dialects, slang, and terms for things. Saying pop versus soda, crayfish versus crawdad, everyone versus y'all. Where a character grew up will leave traces on his speech, and you can use those traces to give that character a different voice from the others. If this hometown has a distinct accent or speaking pattern, it makes it even easier to figure out how someone from there would speak.

Where someone grew up also affects how they might interact with others. A Southern genteel upbringing could mean your gal might be polite and sweet, yet aloof (cause good folks don't pry) or a terrible gossip (cause prying means caring, don't ya know), an inner-city guy might take control of every room he walks into, because that's what it took to survive. The suburban boy might do the opposite of what everyone expects because he's tired of conforming.

(More on developing your author's voice here)

Personality plays a large role in how a characters sounds. Their voice will reflect that personality and color every line of dialog and internal thought. Even better, it'll help you develop richer characters because they won't just be two-dimensional people spouting lines on a page. Those lines will come from someplace real, because you know why those characters speaks like they do.

Writing exercise time!

In 250 words or less, show a conversation with different character voices.

Here's the catch--You can't use greetings, because that's too easy.

And the extra challenge: Make it a conversation where one person is trying to persuade the other in some way.

Post your entry in the comments section. Deadline for entries is next Monday, June 24, at noon, EST. I'll choose the winner and post the finalists on Tuesday, June 25th.

Winner gets a 1000-word critique. Contest is open to everyone.

Real Life Diagnostics: Is This an Effective Opening Scene?

2013-06-16T09:22:00.002-04:00

Critique By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Real Life Diagnostics is a weekly column that studies a snippet of a work in progress for specific issues. Readers are encouraged to send in work with questions, and I diagnose them on the blog. It’s part critique, part example, and designed to help the submitter as well as anyone else having a similar problem.

If you're interested in submitting to Real Life Diagnostics, please check out these guidelines.

Submissions currently in the queue: Nine (+two re-submits)

This week’s question:

Is this an effective opening scene?

Market/Genre: Fantasy

On to the diagnosis…

Original text:

Two shots presented choice to Athson. Arrow nocked, he knelt on one knee measuring the targets looking from deep shade under trees onto open grass stretching above the rocky shore of the Sea of Mists. He considered the pheasant a trickier mark for dinner than the rabbit. His skill either meant a nice supplement to his supplies for a few days.

A ranger of Auguron, Athson weighed each animal. He gauged the wind. Glancing at the movement of tree limbs well above ground, he judged the necessary lead should he require a shot at the bird in startled flight.

The pheasant's green head, striped neck and long, chestnut tail feathers tantalized the archer with as a colorful target as well as its meat. But the speckled rabbit scuttled in the grass closer than the bird. Athson waited, calculating his choices, his campsite set early due to his afternoon arrival fulfilling his lonely patrol of Auguron Forest's western marches.

Athson stood without noise. Situated upwind, he feared no alerting either animal. Decision made, the archer drew back the arrow, aimed, released his breath. He blinked, turned and released.

The arrow sprung away in silence – no plucking the string for an Auguron Ranger. His aim proved true and unwavering striking through the head. Athson stepped from hiding preparing to clean his kill, high grass tangling at his shins. The rabbit – and her kits – hopped into their hole at his movement.

The kits saved their mother. Athson spotted the young rabbits as he aimed for the doe so he chose the male pheasant. The latter took no part in raising young but the kits needed the rabbit doe for weeks yet as Athson judged by their size. He arrived at the pheasant, squatted and started pulling feathers.

Athson turned his head, spied the rabbit-hole. He thought children needed their mothers – and fathers.

My Thoughts in Purple:

Two shots presented [a?] choice to Athson. [Arrow nocked, he knelt on one knee measuring the targets looking from deep shade under trees onto open grass stretching above the rocky shore of the Sea of Mists.] Reads awkwardly. You might consider tightening to smooth it He considered the pheasant a trickier mark for dinner than the rabbit. [His skill either meant a nice supplement to his supplies for a few days] or a what? He started with either but there's no second option.

A ranger of Auguron, Athson [weighed each animal.] A little awkward as he's not weighing the animals, but the decision about which one to shoot. This is also the third time this idea has been mentioned He gauged the wind. Glancing at the movement of tree limbs well above ground, he judged the necessary lead should he require a shot at the bird in startled flight.

The pheasant's green head, striped neck and long, chestnut tail feathers tantalized the archer with as a colorful target as well as its meat. But the speckled rabbit scuttled in the grass closer than the bird. [Athson waited, calculating his choices, his campsite set early due to his afternoon arrival fulfilling his lonely patrol of Auguron Forest's western marches.] Reads awkwardly, and there's a loss of narrative focus here

Athson stood without noise. Situated upwind, he feared [no alerting] Could just be typos, but there are quite a few incorrect or missing words in this snippet, and some mission punctuation. either animal. [Decision made,] Telling. As soon as he shoots we know he made the choice the archer drew back the arrow, aimed, released his breath. He blinked, [turned] Why does he turn after he's already aimed? and released.

The arrow sprung away in silence – no plucking the string for an Auguron Ranger. His aim proved true and unwavering striking through the head. Athson stepped from hiding [preparing to clean his kill] telling a bit, high grass tangling at his shins. The rabbit – and her kits – hopped into their hole at his movement.

[The kits saved their mother. Athson spotted the young rabbits as he aimed for the doe so he chose the male pheasant.] Telling. This is also explaining his motives after the fact. Perhaps show this happening and have his switch targets then, so readers see why he changed his mind [The latter took no part in raising young but the kits needed the rabbit doe for weeks yet as Athson judged by their size.] Explaining why, but not killing a mama with babies is pretty obvious He arrived at the pheasant, squatted and started pulling feathers.

[Athson turned his head, spied the rabbit-hole. He thought children needed their mothers – and fathers.] Telling, and this is clear because he spared them

The question:

Is this an effective opening scene?

Not yet, because there's no reason for me to keep reading. While Athson does have a goal to drive the scene (find dinner) there is no conflict or stakes to make me worry or a story question to draw me in. He's not starving, it's just extra food for him. There's also no sense that he's not going to hit what he's aiming at. What problem is he facing as this story opens?

(More on goals, conflict, and stakes here)

There's also very little to connect me to the character. I do like that he spares the rabbit with the babies, which says a lot about him. I'd suggest making that decision happen in real time and not explain it after the fact. Seeing him decide not to kill a mama with babies will endear him to the reader. I sense that there's more to this, so that could also be a good spot to have a little internalization that reflects why he's sparing the rabbits. Maybe a memory, or quick line that relates to his problem or beliefs.

Perhaps he has no other choice, is hungry, but spares the rabbits anyway. That would certainly say a lot about him.

(More on making readers care here)

There was also a lot of repetition, and you might also consider revising to eliminate those. For example, in the opening five sentences, three of them are about his choice of which animal to shoot. Several lines later there's another. One sentence is all you need there to set the scene.

There's also a lot of focus on the bow and aiming, which slows the pacing down. It also stretches credibility a bit, as I'd imagine hunters don't have a long time to choose prey, as both of these animals can vanish in a moment. If he's a great marksman, he'd probably act quickly.

I'd suggest tightening the entire thing up. He's out hunting, he sees the rabbit and the pheasant, he picks the rabbit and takes aim, then switches at the last second when he spies the kits. Not only will that show his compassion, but his skill at being able to change targets on the fly.

(More on tightening the prose here)

I'd also suggest adding more internalization from Athson so readers can get to know him a little. What's he's doing out there, what his problem might be. He's on patrol, but what does that mean? Is he worried about an attack or is this a boring assignment? Even just a line or two to pique the reader's curiosity would be enough. Look for something that shows why a reader should care about Athson and want to follow his story.

(More on internalization here)

Overall, I think this is trying too hard to be descriptive and it's bogging down the story. Readers don't need to see every action, just the ones that matter. What's strong here is Athson's decision not to kill a mama with babies, because he has a personal connection to that in some way. That's something that readers will like about him, and if they like him they'll read on.

(More on overcoming false starts in the opening here)

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

Real Life Diagnostics: Grounding Readers in Your Opening Scene

2013-06-15T08:33:00.000-04:00

The only proof she’d seen the Mediterranean [sparkling at her as the plane overshot land and curved back] was the salty breeze kicking up the eyelet hem of her skirt.

The center bracketed section clutters this sentence up, so by the time I get to the relevant part I'm confused as to what the sentence means. I suspect you're trying to pack too many details into a sentence.

It's okay to expand on these things and give each detail its own sentence if it needs it. If you mention she's at the airport in the opening paragraph, you don't have to force the fact that she was on a plane recently in here. Not only will that clear up confusion in the first paragraph, but it leaves this one to focus on the breeze.

(More on setting up your story here)

Do you get where she is both figuratively and literally?
I figured out she's at an airport in France, I'm guessing French Riviera, and she's there to take a cooking class. However, I had to work to get that, which kept me from being drawn into the story.

I'd suggest a few lines early on to make it clear where she is and what's going on. You don't need a lot, but more internal thought and a few tweaks would set the scene and ground the reader in the story.

(More on grounding the reader here)

Does it feel tell-y?
No, but I think it's trying too hard not to tell, which is adding to my confusion. The descriptions make sense if you know where she is and what she's doing, but without that it's not so clear. I get the sense you're trying not to explain things, and that's making the text sound a little awkward. It's okay to tell explain a little to get key facts in. "She walked toward the exit of Charles de Gaulle airport" or the like.

The descriptions also feel a little ungrounded as well. For example: "French buzzed" made me think someone named French was doing something, and it took me a second to figure out it was the language, not a person. And it didn't flow well with the rest of the sentence, so right away I was confused and struggling to understand what was going on. Take a closer peek at this:

[French buzzed,] [rolled R’s and nasal endings tumbled lazy and loose into blazing blue], [the sky stretched tight like a clean sheet.]

There are three fragments here that aren't working well together. It's talking about the language, the specific sounds, and a sky all at the same time. I'm not sure what the point of this sentence is or what's being said. The focus is off so it's confusing instead of setting the scene and telling readers where they are.

I'd suggest tweaking your descriptions so it's clearer what they refer to, and tightening the focus so the descriptions paint the right picture for your reader. You have some interesting things going on here, but they're getting lost and tripping over each other. Try giving them a little more breathing room so they can shine.

(More on narrative focus here)

Overall, I think there are some good elements here that can be developed into a strong opening. The situation feels right, it's just a matter of setting the scene more clearly and grounding the reader in what's going on.

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

Is New Adult Just Steamier Young Adult? And What Does That Mean for YA?

2013-06-14T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

It's always exciting when a new genre or market appears in the writing world, and New Adult writers have finally broken though the wall and have become their own market. (Way to go NA authors!) However, their market link on Amazon appeared as a subgenre of romance (and only in Kindle e-books), and that got me thinking about what New Adult is and how it fits into the marketplace.

I read a lot of book review blogs, and I see a lot of New Adult titles popping up there. I've heard NA writers do readings and sat with them on panels. I'm not sure I've ever seen a NA title that wasn't romance in some aspect.

A look through the NA covers on Goodreads is pretty much all romance. Plots often surround the intensity of the teen experience, yet with more adult sexual encounters. Characters are typically in the 18-25 range, but still dealing with "teen" issues, just on a more adult stage.

The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder...

Is New Adult just Young Adult with slightly older characters and steamier sexual situations?

Going from high school to college does up the ante for sex, so being more adult there is realistic. It's also not surprising to see its popularity since romance is one of the top-selling genres out there, and adults make up 55% of young adult book buyers. Giving those readers the same emotional intensity plus sex has got to be a huge draw. I've seen plenty of reviews where the only negative was, "I wish the characters acted a little older." They always struck me as an adult reading a young adult novel and wishing it was more, well, adult.

If so, then what might this mean for the young adult market?

If a large chunk of those 55% start reading NA titles instead, is a big drop in YA sales looming on the horizon? Is NA going to be the next big boom?

Chances are, all it'll take is the NA version of Twilight to launch it.

It'll be interesting to see where things go and how this shakes out.

(ETA: Commenter Juliana Haygert linked us a great post she wrote on what New Adult is and why it's not just YA with sex) It's nice to see the NA writers out there educating readers about this new market. I also think one reason this attitude exists, is that right now, romance is a major focus of the NA market. Considering the power of romance and the tenacity of romance writers, this isn't surprising.

What are your thoughts? How do you feel about the New Adult market and how it might affect the Young Adult market?

Guest Author Tom Angleberger: Do You Really Need to Write an Hour Every Day?

2013-06-12T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Tom Angleberger

Please join me in welcoming Tom Angleberger to the blog today to tackle that age old question—how much do you really need to write every day to be "a writer?"

Tom is the bestselling author of the Origami Yoda series. He is also the author of Horton Halfpott and Fake Mustache. Tom maintains the Origami Yoda–inspired blog origamiyoda.wordpress.com. He is married to author-illustrator Cece Bell and lives in Christiansburg, Virginia. His next book, The Surprise Attack of Jabba the Puppett, will be out on August 6.

Take it away Tom...

The most common advice writers seem to get is some variation on "Write An Hour a Day Every Day."

Exactly why 60 minutes of writing is better than 61 or 63 is not clear. If 60 minutes if good, why not 120? Why not 372?

I mean, wouldn't it be best to write 24 hours a day? Why stop? Why not just write from now on? Your life can become one endless torrent of words.

Of course, that's absurd. But I'm not sure why it's any more absurd than this forced hour of writing every day.

I realize that may work for some authors—either that or they're just trying to sabotage everyone else with bad advice—but it's certainly not my way of writing. I often go a day without writing. Maybe even a week. Maybe even a month!

That doesn't mean I'm not thinking, formulating, composing, plotting, revising, etc... It just means I'm not typing.

If I don't have anything of interest in my brain yet, why should I sit down and type for an hour? Wouldn't a walk be healthier? It may also be more inspiring and thus more likely to result in me having an idea worth writing about later.

This all may go hand-in-hand with the second most common advice given to writers: "Write a lousy first draft." Why? Just so you can then spend TWO hours a day trying to revise it?

No thanks. I'll shoot for "good" with the first draft and then revise THAT.

Look, I used to be a newspaper reporter. I know what it means to sit down and crank it out day after day after day. But this often ends in "notebook dump," "spilt ink," "wasted pixels" and "pointless drivel."

The one problem this planet does not have is a lack of writing. (See: Internet.) So why do it without a compelling reason?

So—for myself—I reject the advice. And I reject the idea that I'm not accomplishing something if I come up short of this odd, wholly random "gold standard" of authorship.

I'm an author 24 hours a day... and a writer/typer when I actually stumble upon that compelling reason.

About The Surprise Attack of Jabba the Puppett

Dark times have fallen on McQuarrie Middle School. Dwight’s back—and not a moment too soon, as the gang faces the FunTime Menace: a new educational program designed to raise students’ standardized test scores. Instead, it’s driving everyone crazy with its obnoxious videos of Professor FunTime and his insidious singing calculator! When Principal Rabbski cancels the students’ field trip—along with art, music, and LEGO classes—to make time for FunTime, the students turn to Origami Yoda for help. But some crises are too big for Origami Yoda to handle alone: Form a Rebel Alliance the students must. United, can they defeat the FunTime Menace and cope with a surprise attack from Jabba the Puppett?

Bob and Weave: How to Mix Character Actions and Internal Thought

2013-06-10T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Dipping into the mailbag today with a great question about writing a smooth narrative:

Could you do a post on how to weave description of character actions with what's going on in their head? I'm stuck on a scene in my current WIP where the main character is fleeing an embarrassing situation, and I want to show both the actions involved in her leaving with what's going on in her head. Every time I write it, it reads like too much interior monologue without enough action.

Considering how much of a novel is action mixed with internal thought, this is a biggie. Tip the balance too far in either direction the writing can come across too slow (too much in a character's head) or too flat (all description, no character).

How writers mix these is part of their style, so there is no hard and fast rule. I like to aim for a balance between them, where what the character does flows smoothly with what she thinks. Her thoughts and actions work in tandem to tell the story.

If someone is fleeing an embarrassing situation, I'd think about the state of mind of the POV character and how she'd interact with the world around her because of that. What might she be doing as she thinks about her situation? Looking for places to hide? Heaping more embarrassment on herself by tripping or missing the door when she reaches for it? Fighting physical symptoms? Reacting physically as well as emotionally? What might she notice?

Let's look at an example from The Shifter. Actually, let's have some fun and look as a re-worked-to-make-it-bad example. First, all action:

I sang a soft good morning to the little hen. The chicken blinked awake and cocked her head. She didn’t squawk, just flapped her wings as I lifted her off the nest. I tucked her under my arm and she settled down.

Hear that flatness? There's no soul in this, it's just bland description of what a character is doing. Look at how there's no judgment or opinion from the narrator, just statements of fact. This is what I did. This is what I did next. Here's what happened after that. -yawn-

One reason this reads so poorly is that there's no variety. The rhythm is all the same and that kills the prose and makes it feel stagnant. There's nothing for a reader to care about here.

(More on rhythm of the prose here)

Now, let's shove it over to too much internal thought:

Good morning little hen. Chickens are so cute when they wake up. Sleepy little eyes, cocked heads. I could live without the squawking, but as long as she just flapped her wings as I lifted her off the nest I'd be okay. She’d settle down once I tucked her under my arm. I’d overheard that trick from a couple of boys I’d unloaded fish with last week.

Makes you want to yell at her to get to the point, doesn't it? All she's doing is thinking here, she doesn't do anything. She's explaining the situation before she does it, which feels a little self-indulgent. It can also be bad if the next bit actually goes into her lifting the chicken and sticking it under her arm. It's a form of telling, and bloats the manuscript since you're saying things twice.

(More on too much internal thought here)

Finally, the original paragraph:

“Good morning, little hen,” I sang softly. The chicken blinked awake and cocked her head at me. She didn’t get to squawking, just flapped her wings a bit as I lifted her off the nest, and she’d settle down once I tucked her under my arm. I’d overheard that trick from a couple of boys I’d unloaded fish with last week.

This has a nice mix of all the narrative pieces. Dialog, action, internal thought. The narrator is acting, but since she's describing it in her voice it doesn't feel like bland description of her actions. You can see her picking up the chicken and putting it under her arm, and understand why she's doing this. Even better, some of those thoughts hint at what could go wrong, which adds stakes and tension.

Let's break it down further:

“Good morning, little hen,” I sang softly. (Dialog, which is active, giving the paragraph a sense of movement. The protagonist is doing something, even if it's just singing to a chicken)

The chicken blinked awake and cocked her head at me. (Action--the chicken blinks and cocks her head. But there's a little voice in her that keeps it from being straight description of action. The "blinked awake" and "at me" makes it personal to the narrator)

She didn’t get to squawking, just flapped her wings a bit as I lifted her off the nest, and she’d settle down once I tucked her under my arm. (A mix of internal thought and action. "She didn't get the squawking" is a thought, but it refers to the action at hand so it feels like it's moving the action. This is what the narrator expected, and I bet a lot of readers imagine that squawking chicken, and how this might be a problem to her. "just flapped her wings a bit as I lifted her off the nest" is action, but again, with a little voice to connect it to the narrator. "she’d settle down once I tucked her under my arm" is internal thought, yet the thought is about the action and moves the story. You don't see her tuck the chicken under her arm, but you feel that she does it because she's already acted in this paragraph. It doesn't feel static)

I’d overheard that trick from a couple of boys I’d unloaded fish with last week. (Internal thought, but it relates directly to what's going on in a way that doesn't duplicate what was done)

So what can you take away from all this?

1. Aim for balance between action and internal thought.

Different scenes will require different ratios, but I like a modified rule of three here: Don't use the same type of sentence three times in a row. If you have two action sentences, make the third an internal thought or line of dialog. Two internal thought sentences, then break it up with a third action sentence. Combine them in one sentence to further mix it up. Variety keeps the pace moving and keeps the rhythm of the prose from being flat or list-like.

(More on fixing pacing problems here)

My example would break down to: Dialog--action--internal thought/action mix--internal thought. For those curious about the next line in this scene--It's action, followed by dialog.

This doesn't mean that if you happen to have three thoughts in a row that's bad, but if you think a passage feels heavy in one area, or off in general, look at how many sentences of one type you have in a row and if varying the types fixes the problem.

2. Connect the action and the internal thoughts, but don't duplicate them.

Thinking and acting the same basic thing feels repetitious, and bogs down the passage with unnecessary words. Try to offer new information with each line. If your character thinks how much she wants to cry in one line, don't have her cry in the next line. Find another way to show that sadness or give a reason why she's crying.

3. Don't forget the power of dialog and description.

A smooth narrative mixes it up so the prose doesn't feel stale. If you feel there's too much action, toss in some dialog. Too much internal thought, describe something. Use all the tools available to you. In my example, my protagonist is alone, yet she talks to the chicken, enabling me to use dialog to keep the scene from feeling too much in her head.

Writing exercise time! (Yes, they're back)

In 250 words or less, write a well-mixed scene using character action and internal thought.

The catch: Let's help out the original question-asker with some specific examples, and write a scene where someone is running away from an embarrassing situation.

Post your entry in the comments section. Deadline for entries is next Monday, June 17, at noon, EST. I'll choose the winner and post the finalists on Tuesday, June 18th.

Winner gets a 1000-word critique. It's been a while, so previous winners are eligible to win this time.

Real Life Diagnostics: Infodumps and Reflection: How Much Do You Need?

2013-06-08T08:48:00.001-04:00

Critique By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Real Life Diagnostics is a weekly column that studies a snippet of a work in progress for specific issues. Readers are encouraged to send in work with questions, and I diagnose them on the blog. It’s part critique, part example, and designed to help the submitter as well as anyone else having a similar problem.

If you're interested in submitting to Real Life Diagnostics, please check out these guidelines.

Submissions currently in the queue: Eight (+two re-submits)

This week’s questions:

This is mostly an info dump and reflection, but is it interesting enough to keep you hooked?

Is the writing flowing and clear?

Can you hear Cina's voice and character, even though it's in third person? Is this realistic for him to be thinking about?

Market/Genre: Fantasy
On to the diagnosis…

Original text:

Context: One of the main protagonists, Cina, is watching the Prince's public execution, an execution he and his partner caused, in order to kill the Prince. This part of the scene is when Cina is watching the execution and reflecting on how exactly they went about killing the Prince. (Cina is a Phoenix, which means he can create, control and manipulate a special type of fire - that's the "kind" he refers to.)

Cina let out a long breath, watching the execution arena closely. He was a few hundred feet away, yet he clearly saw the Prince’s jewels gleaming in the flames that engulfed his robes. Even the royal criminals were treated better than his kind, but as Leto always reminded him…when dagger turned to sword, he’d rather not be royalty. Royalty were uptight, strict and stubborn, even about being killed.

How many times had he and Leto tried to kill the Prince? Three times, he believed, in the past four days. First, Leto poisoned the Prince’s wine, but the stupid cat had decided to dip its wart-covered tongue into the glass before the Prince did and fell over, frothing at the mouth. Then he had tried slitting the boy’s throat at midnight, but the Prince’s maid chose that time to steal a few necklaces from his chamber. After much debate and a few drinks later, Leto had stolen one of the Prince’s rings, stabbed a few guards, dropped the ring near the bodies, and of course the King found out about that; it was amusing, really, how fast the rumors spread, once Cina invited the palace gossip to a late night wine at the nearby tavern.

So they tricked the King to set his own son for execution. But of course, then the Lady wanted the Prince burned with phoenix fire for “extra measure”, even though he was set to be hanged, and you couldn’t question the Lady, oh no, because the Lady had the final say. So what did Leto tell him to do?

“Oh, Cina, why don’t you burn the boy at his own hanging, because that’s not a waste of time,” Cina muttered, sliding out of the shadows.

Cina crept toward the sidelines, peering over the gate, where people were shouting in the havoc. They were perfectly fine with the Prince spontaneously burning, because no one really liked the Prince, and the people who watched the executions were, in Cina’s opinion, murderous barbarians. But the second the flames started spreading to the crowd... Cina smirked as he turned away. Phoenix fire didn't stop. It burned.

My Thoughts in Purple:

Cina let out a long breath, watching the execution arena closely. He was a few hundred feet away, yet he clearly saw the Prince’s [jewels] Weird thing, but would they really burn the jewels? This thought yanked me out of the text gleaming in the flames that engulfed his robes. [Even the royal criminals were treated better than his kind] I don't understand this, as being burned doesn't seem better, though it might make sense in context, but as Leto always reminded him…[when dagger turned to sword] Nice, he’d rather not be royalty. [Royalty were uptight, strict and stubborn, even about being killed.] I like the attitude, but I don't get what he means

[How many times had he and Leto tried to kill the Prince? Three times, he believed, in the past four days.] Perhaps combine these into one sentence? Reads a little awkwardly. Also, if he isn't sure, then I can see him thinking about each one to count them. But if he says how many then there's no need to count. First, Leto poisoned the Prince’s wine, but the stupid cat had decided to dip its wart-covered tongue into the glass before the Prince did and fell over, frothing at the mouth. Then he had tried slitting the boy’s throat at midnight, but the Prince’s maid chose that time to steal a few necklaces from his chamber. After much debate and a few drinks later, Leto had stolen one of the Prince’s rings, stabbed a few guards, dropped the ring near the bodies, and of course the King found out about that; it was amusing, really, how fast the rumors spread, once Cina invited the palace gossip to a late night wine at the nearby tavern.

So they tricked the King to set his own son for execution. But of course, then the Lady wanted the Prince burned with phoenix fire for “extra measure”, even though he was set to be hanged, and you couldn’t question the Lady, oh no, because the Lady had the final say. [So what did Leto tell him to do?] Staring to get a little confused as to the chronology here

[“Oh, Cina, why don’t you burn the boy at his own hanging, because that’s not a waste of time,” Cina muttered, sliding out of the shadows. ] I don't understand and I'm a bit lost at this point

Cina crept toward the sidelines, peering over the gate, where people were shouting in the havoc. They were perfectly fine with [the Prince spontaneously burning,] So Cina set the Prince on fire? The chronology feels off and I'm not sure when I am anymore because no one really liked the Prince, and the people who watched the executions were, in Cina’s opinion, murderous barbarians. But the second the flames started spreading to the crowd... Cina smirked as he turned away. Phoenix fire didn't stop. It burned.

The questions:

This is mostly an info dump and reflection, but is it interesting enough to keep you hooked?
Parts are, but I'm not sure it's working overall. I'm curious about things, but I suspect my questions would be answered had I read this scene in context with the rest of the book. It's always hardest to critique a non-opening scene snippet, because things the reader would know by now I don't. There are a few things that hit me though:

If they've spent this much time trying to kill the Prince, then I imagine the reader has seen those scenes, right? So going over them again in detail will likely feel redundant. If the reader hasn't seen those scenes play out, then why not? They seem like fun scenes.

Why was it so easy to frame the Prince? It seems odd that the King would kill his own son over a few dead guards. And the Prince would have professed his innocence, so the King would have believed a dropped ring and gossip over the word of his child. And the Lady (his mother?) wanted him burned with magic fire to be sure he was dead? That seems like overkill. (all this is possible and might be setup clearly in the book though. But in this snippet the motives are unclear)

Why execute him with his jewels? Whoever takes his body away will just steal them. And if he's a criminal worthy of execution, then why treat him as royalty?

What did grab me was the end part, where it looks like Cina set the body on fire and this fire will spread out and start burning the crowd. I'm curious what is about to happen there.

Had I read this in the book and knew what was going on, what might happen next and what they gain by killing the Prince is what would hook me. But as is, I'm not sure why this matters. Cina has killed the Prince, set fire to the crowd (more or less) and is walking away. What was the goal? What happens now? What does he get from killing the Prince?

It's seems that he might also be thinking about the next step in their plan (if they have one) or how this is going to get him what he wants. I'm wondering how this scene fits into the larger story, as little that happens here would change if you wrote this scene as "they killed the Prince the next day." Cina's fire going into the crowd changes things some, but again, I don't see why that matters or why he did it (aside from just being cruel because he doesn't like these people).

This snippet feels like a sequel, (the time after a scene where the character reacts, reflects, and decides what to do next) so I'm looking for the what to do next part. The hook will come from what this accomplishes and causes.

(More on infodumps here)

Is the writing flowing and clear?
I had some clarity issues, but they could be due to context. Since it jumped back and forth in time, I wasn't sure what was going on toward the end. I thought Cina was there to watch, and the Prince was already burning, but by the end it looks like Cina set him on fire. Again, if Leto told him to do this I imagine some of that would have come up earlier. Or at least we'd have seen Cina doing it. He goes from reflection to remembering Leto's order, to walking away and I never see him actually "set" the fire. The fire is burning before readers see that Cina caused it. You might consider reorganizing this and tightening the narrative focus.

(More on narrative focus here)

Can you hear Cina's voice and character, even though it's in third person? Is this realistic for him to be thinking about?
Yes. I like Cina reflecting on what a pain this was to do, as it shows his character. There's no remorse at all that he and his partner killed this guy. He has no care for all the people he's about to hurt or kill with his Phoenix fire. He's not a very nice guy, but I don't have enough of a sampling to know if he's likeable or not.

Overall, I'm curious how this snippet serves the story. It feels as though it's here to tell the reader they tried to kill the Prince three times. But wouldn't that already be known? So is the reflection needed or would it be more interesting to see Cina creeping up, setting the fire, thinking about how this affects him and his goals, and what he plans to do next?

(More on developing character voice here)

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

Does Your Novel Have Too Many Characters?

2013-06-07T08:04:00.001-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

In Wednesday's post, Robyn Hood Black shared an exercise about testing the relationships of your characters to each other using cut out pieces of paper. I loved this idea, and it got me thinking that this was a great way to test a very common writing question:

Does my novel have too many characters?

This is hard to answer because "too much" is subjective. An epic high fantasy is likely to have more characters than a personal contemporary story. Even making a list of your characters isn't always helpful, because many will be walk on or throwaway characters, and knowing that, they carry less "weight" in a list. You might not even list them because they're so unimportant, yet they take up valuable room in the reader's memory.

My twist on Robyn's exercise can help you find the answer.

Step One: Take a sheet of paper and draw two boxes in the middle, evenly spaced apart. Write your protagonist's name in one box, your antagonist's name in the other. Add boxes if you have more than one of either. (If you find yourself adding a lot of boxes, you already know you have a problem)

(More on figuring out who your protagonist is here)

Step Two: Start adding boxes with the other character's names in them. Below the protagonist if they're directly connected to her, above the antagonist if they're connected to him. Put down:

Major secondary characters first (friends, sidekicks)
Then important characters (people the plot or story hinges on, but aren't hanging out with the main characters)
Then minor characters (recurring people who play smaller roles and are seen multiple times)
Then walk on characters (people in one or two scenes who don't do much, but have names anyway)
Then any character who interacts with your protagonist or antagonist

For this exercise, let's say a "character" is anyone who's A) named, as names = importance to a reader and suggest they should be remembered, or B) someone who is shown on the page affecting the protagonist (or antagonist). For example, your hero is mugged by three thugs. There are four people in that scene, but are all of them necessary?

(More on developing secondary characters here)

Step Three: Draw lines connecting the boxes. A solid line if the character directly interacts and affects the protagonist, a dotted line if they are connected more to someone who is connected to the protagonist. For example, when your hero is mugged by three thugs, and only one speaks to him and actually interacts in a meaningful way, he gets a solid connection line. The other two thugs would get dotted lines to the first thug, because they're connected to him, but really don't affect the protagonist much.

Step Four: Draw lines between any characters who are connected to each other so you can see the relationships.

What This Should Tell You:

How many characters are in the book
Which characters directly affect your protagonist and which ones don't
Which characters might be good candidates to combine into one

If you had a hard time finding room for all your boxes, that's a red flag you might have too many characters. Same if you have a lot of characters who have zero connections to your protagonist, but connections to other characters in the book. Lots of people with dotted lines to one person could be ones you can combine (like those extra thugs)

Extra Tip: This could also be useful to see if a particular scene has too many characters in it, especially those hard-to-manage scenes with a group of people where everyone is chiming in about something. Who actually matters in that scene and who is just there to toss out a line?

Extra, Extra Tip: You could also do this with scenes to see which scenes move the plot and which are just duplicating what another scene is doing.

(More on combining scenes here)

What I like about this exercise is that it forces you to think about how the various characters are connected. Someone might feel like they're affecting the protagonist, but when you sit down and really look at it, they have no direct interaction with them at all. They're more connected to someone who is connected to the protagonist. That person might be a good candidate to cut, combine, or give more plot to so they do have a stronger connection (and possibly a deeper layer) to the protagonist and the story.

Sometimes a visual representation can provide more information than words on a page. And looking at our stories from a different perspective can allow us to see things we normally would have missed.

Let there be Light! And Dark! In Your Cast of Characters

2013-06-05T08:18:00.001-04:00

By Robyn Hood Black, @artsyletters

In last month’s post, I promised we’d tackle some more writing/art/poetry connections. I’ve been pondering the concept of positive/negative space (the terminology we’re taught in the Western, English-speaking world), which is really Notan (the Eastern idea of dark and light, where, as in the yin/yang symbol, both are equal players). I took a look at this concept in one of my early art blog posts, featuring the book, NOTAN – The Dark-Light Principle of Design by American artists and teachers Dorr Bothwell and Marlys Mayfield.

Many ideas spring to mind that could translate from pictures to words and story structure: pacing, variation, tension. But today I’d like to look at a very basic idea, the first exercise in the book, and how it might relate to characters. (Hang with me here – thanks.)

The opening exercise calls for the artist to cut up five black shapes and arrange them on a white background, making note of how composition choices affect the suggestion of movement, balance, symmetry and asymmetry, and the like. A pebble shape is used since it doesn’t call a whole lot of attention to itself in a group.

Thinking about this exercise, I couldn’t help noticing that the verse novel I was reading, Hurricane Dancers by Margarita Engle, has five main characters. If you are not familiar with Margarita Engle’s work, please get thee to some of her books post-haste! Engle is an internationally acclaimed poet, novelist and journalist (who helps train search and rescue dogs on the side!). Her writing is concise, clear, sometimes lyrical, and stunning. Her book The Surrender Tree – Poems of Cuba’s Struggle for Freedom (set in 1896) was a 2009 Newbery Honor Book, won the Pura Belpré Medal for Narrative, the Bank Street - Claudia Lewis Award and the Jane Addams Award that year, and was a Bank Street - Best Children's Book of the Year as well as a Lee Bennett Hopkins Poetry Award Honor Book - and that is just a partial list. Her many other books come with trails of awards. She’s a haiku poet as well – I told you haiku enriches your writing!

Hurricane Dancers, divided into six parts, is a story told through its five main characters. Individual poems are not titled, but the name of the speaker at the top of the page lets the reader know whose point of view we’re in.

It’s the early 1500s in the Caribbean. Main character Quebrado (the only one without a real historical counterpart) is half Cuban Indian and half Spanish, and finds himself a slave on a pirate ship. He survives a hurricane and shipwreck, as do Bernardino de Talavera, the ruthless captain, and Alonso de Ojedo, his injured captive, a brutal explorer who was among the first to capture Indians and sell them into slavery. (His poems brilliantly reveal his descent into madness, by the way.)

After the wreck, Quebrado is taken in and cared for by a community of Indians, and he befriends the chieftan’s daughter, Caucubú. She’s in love with young fisherman Naridó, and when the star-crossed lovers escape an arranged marriage for Caucubú by fleeing into the mountains, the villagers blame Quebrado and banish him.

I will not spoil the story for you except to say that the fates of these characters continue to be intertwined (even the two villains), and Quebrado must make some decisions that affect others and define who he is and who he will be.

Back to Notan. I decided to re-work that first exercise in the book but with each black blob-shape representing a character from Hurricane Dancers. Why? I just wanted to see how I responded to physical, tactile symbols of them - where I would put them on the page and how close to each other.

It was easy to assign Quebrado the largest piece and put that shape near the center. Next, I felt most connected to Caucubú, and arranged her shape directly across from Quebrado’s and about equi-distant from Naridó’s. What to do with those awful antagonists? I gave them the smallest circles (though your eye is drawn to a small shape if it’s in a group of larger shapes, right?). And then I found I couldn’t live with them as benign, rounded shapes. I cut a sharp protruding point into each one to symbolize their viciousness. It just made me feel better.

(For a terrific exploration of the psychological power of shape in visual art, see Molly Bang’s Picture This – How Pictures Work, first published in 1991 and now available from Chronicle Books.)

How will any of this help you with your current writing project? You could depart a bit from a strict attempt at Notan (creating visual balance between positive and negative shapes) and try something similar to this example, assigning a shape to each of your main characters. What shapes would you give them? How close or how far away would they be from other characters? What kind of energy would their spatial relationships suggest? (I’m not talking about doing representational, paper-doll cut-outs – but just focusing on the essence of each character.)

I have a completed draft of a middle grade historical novel, but it needs overhauling. I’ve been seriously thinking of trying it as a verse novel. The first thing I would have noticed if I had done this exercise early in the process is that I have WAY too many characters in it! Not that you need just five, of course, but in my project there would have been far too many shapes to cut out, diluting the impact of a cozier number - and causing potential confusion to boot.

One aim of Notan is to create a dynamic design, paying attention to the flow of space between objects. Who knows – if you devote a little time to its concepts, even just noticing examples in the world around you, perhaps your writing will become more dynamic as well!

Robyn Hood Black writes poetry, fiction and nonfiction for young readers from the foothills of north Georgia. Her books include SIR MIKE (Scholastic Library, 2005), and WOLVES (Intervisual Books, 2008). Her poems appear in THE ARROW FINDS ITS MARK (Roaring Brook, 2012), THE POETRY FRIDAY ANTHOLOGY FOR MIDDLE SCHOOL (2013) and THE POETRY FRIDAY ANTHOLOGY (2012). Her haiku have been published in leading haiku journals. She’s also just launched an art business with “art for your literary side” at http://artsyletters.com.

How Would You Make the Movie of Your Book?

2013-06-03T09:39:00.002-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

I have a fun guest post up today over at The Girl blog on turning The Shifter into a movie (complete with cast, directors, and soundtrack, so pop on over and check it out). Explaining why I chose someone got me thinking about how this could be a useful writing tool. Deciding who would play who or who would direct forced me to think about aspects of my novel in a way I'd never done before.

Actors, directors, producers, even musicians, all have styles and themes they bring to their projects. Realizing a certain person would be perfect for your novel can help you pinpoint those same aspects in your own work.

For example, you'd probably not want Quentin Tarantino to direct your teen love story. And if you do, that says a lot about the type of story you're writing.

Who Would Play Your Characters?

Casting your characters can help you visualize their physical aspects as well as personality traits. If you know an actor is perfect for a role, try looking deeper at why. What about that person so perfectly portrays your character? Is it a physical element? A personality quick?

My protagonist, Nya, has always been hard to cast for me. But when I did this post, I found a wonderful young actress who fit her, and it was her eyes that sold her on the role. There was a sadness to them that captured Nya's loss, yet a strength that also kept her going.

While you don't want to copy someone else's character, choosing an actor can make you think about what's unique or important about your characters. What that one trait might be that sets them apart from the others. What you'd tell an actor about them so that person could better play the role.

Who Would Write the Screenplay?

Many might want to write their own screenplay, but if you had to pick someone else, who would that be and why? What about that writer's style or strength made you pick them? Are those aspects of your novel you want to develop further? Themes you want to deepen?

Who Would Direct?

Directors often bring a specific look and feel to their work. (It's easy to spot a Tim Burton film.) They tell tales in ways that could hint at how you'd want to tell your story. Personal journeys in epic, sweeping landscapes? Maybe you'd choose Peter Jackson. High-powered action and plot-focused? You could be looking at Michael Bay. On the flip side, if you think Michael Bay is the man for you, then odds are you have a big, summer-blockbuster-action-movie-style story going on.

Who Would Produce?

This one might be harder to answer, since few non-movie buffs are likely know what a producer does let alone know any names. These folks are a bit like which publishing house you might want, which could tell you your genre or market. Are you more the traditional house, or an edgier imprint? Different publishers have different flairs, and if you know you'd want X house, then you might decide to play up elements that fit that house better. (Quick note: I'm not saying write for a particular publisher, just that thinking about where your book would go could help when you're revising, writing, or polishing to bring out things you always wanted in the book but might not have been able to identify or verbalize)

Who Would be on the Soundtrack?

Some writers already have soundtracks for their novels (or at least have playlists they listened to a lot to get into the vibe of the book while writing it). Thinking about the music can help you decide on tone and mood. Music is evocative, and the emotions that come to you when you listen to a specific song or band can be translated into how you describe your scenes.

And my favorite...

What Would the Movie Tagline Be?

The perfect way to think about your hook. A movie tagline hits that one "oooo" factor line that captures what's awesome about the film. It makes you want to see it, just like a hook makes you want to read a book. Studying taglines isn't a bad way to train yourself to think about novel hooks.

This movie technique might not be for everyone, but if you've hit a wall in your story or other brainstorming techniques haven't worked so well, give this one a try. I can even see it being useful after a first draft, when you have the basics down and might be looking for ways to flesh it out or deepen aspects of it.

Who would you pick to do your novel as a movie?

Real Life Diagnostics: An Opening in Third Person Omniscient and Present Tense. Does it Work?

2013-06-01T07:50:00.000-04:00

Adrift on the Pacific, Elena Reyes draws her twins, Felipe and Felipa, close, and sighs. Their names had sounded so cute, and they looked so adorable when Father Rivera baptized them. Now they shiver and whimper as the brine creeps ever deeper and she can do nothing.

A few words, but they signal to the reader that Elena is thinking these things. It's "their" names because she's referring to her own children, not "the" names which is an outsider looking in. The sigh brings the reader's attention to her head, which signals she's about to think. She sees them suffering and has a reaction to it by thinking "she can do nothing." Tiny changes, but it can help separate what Elena is thinking versus what the omniscient narrator is describing.

(More on third person internalization here)

I think this is mainstream fiction. Do you agree? If not, why not?
Based on this snippet and the background you sent in the email, I'd agree. There are no genre elements driving the story or plot. It might even be verging on literary fiction, as it seems to be more personal journey than external plot.

(More on determining your genre here)

Is there a point of view? I am thinking everything is from the storyteller’s omnipotent perspective. Do you think I’m on the right track?
Yes, it's done in an omnipotent view. If your intent is to have it feel as though someone was sitting with you telling you a story, then you nailed it.

However... (and this is a majorly subjective thing)

Third person present tense is extremely difficult to pull off well. It can work for a short period of time, but the odd narrative distance and the sense that the author is whispering into your ear usually gets awkward very quickly. It's a tough sell for a lot of readers (and agents). You see it more in literary fiction than anything else.

Since this is a personal story from Elena's POV, I'd suggest shifting it to third person limited on her, in past tense. The conflict is all hers and she has a personal journey to make. Readers will need to connect to her and want to see her win and survive, and I think that will be harder if they're kept at a distance. It'll also be harder to convey her personal struggle if readers are looking at her more than being with her in her head.

If you prefer to keep this POV style, then I'd suggest adding more internalization so readers can get to know Elena better and get that connection another way. If they don't care about her and her struggle, they won't read on.

(More on omniscient view here)

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

The Difference Between Idea, Premise, and Plot

2013-05-31T07:22:00.001-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Ideas come to us every day, from big bolt-from-the-blue inspiration to smaller “what if” musings. What's sneaky about ideas is that they're easy--it’s figuring out the story behind the idea that can be the hard part. I’ve had many a premise get me excited, only to discover later that I didn’t have a story, much less a plot, that would go with it.

This is one of the reasons some novels stall after fifty or a hundred pages. The writer gets an idea, dives in too soon, and then the story go splat.

Same with a premise (and I've talked about the trouble with premise novels before). These can be even sneakier because they often feel more like a finished book idea. You can even write an entire novel off one of them and them find yourself yanking out your hair trying to figure out why the book's not working--or worse--not selling.

Idea, premise, and plot are often used interchangeably, but they each serve a specific function and have subtly different meanings.

The Idea

Ideas are those moments of inspiration that first excite or interest us. They can be broad or specific, but something about them hits us and sets our creative wheels in motion. We think, “wow, that would make a cool book.”

A story set in an alternate-history China
A story about a girl named Lila who can heal by touch
A story about an estranged couple in a zombie apocalypse

Ideas are liberating. Anything can happen and there are no restraints or restrictions to an idea. You can rift off a favorite book or movie, invent something new, or mash together elements of genres you like. The sky is the limit, and that freedom allows you to be as creative and as crazy as you want to be.

(More on brainstorming and ideas here)

The Premise

A premise is the next step to developing that idea. After you’ve let the idea churn in your head for a while, you’ll probably see a larger framework for it to exist in. The first hints of what kind of story this idea could turn into. The premise is a general description of the story you plan to tell, and what the story is about. A key factor in a good premise is a hint of the conflict that will drive the plot. This is the story problem the book will explore over the course of the novel.

An undercaste member in an alternate-history China fights for freedom against his tyrannical masters
A girl who can heal by touch is forced to use her gift to help the people who murdered her family
A man considering divorce is thrown into a zombie apocalypse with his estranged wife and the woman he wants to leave her for

A premise forces you to shape an idea into a workable story. It helps you narrow the focus down to a problem (a conflict) you can work with within the standard parameters of a novel. It provides the first layer of structure for you to build on. The conflict guides you to the larger story problem the protagonist will have to overcome to resolve the plot. In essence, it tells you what your hero is going to do for 400 pages.

(More on going from idea to plot here)

The Plot

Plots are all about the specific conflicts that illustrate the novel’s premise (that focused idea). The plot provides concrete and external problems to be solved. Plots have the classic story structure elements that drive every scene: goals-conflicts-stakes. A plot tells you what the novel is about—what the protagonist has to do to win, who or what he’s up against, and what will happen if he loses. The plot is what makes your novel unique.

An undercaste member in an alternate-history China fights to overthrow his tyrannical masters to save his wife from an unjust execution
A girl who can heal by touch is forced to use her gift to help the people who murdered her family seize control in a civil war, but works from within to bring about the demise of their house.
A man in an unhappy marriage tries to get rid of his wife during a zombie apocalypse so he can be with the woman he loves, unaware that the two women are secretly plotting against him.

The plot gives the story direction and clearly states what constitutes a win for the protagonist. It tells you the ending and how the story will be resolved. It shows the specific elements and problems to your story and your protagonist that makes your novel unique. The plot encompasses the core conflict.

(More on internal and external core conflicts here)

ETA: The Story

Commenter Lisa added one to this list (and one I almost added myself). Story is the reason for the book. It's the journey of the characters and the core conflict driving them. The theme and the emotional connection to the readers. Stories show the motivation and why someone is doing all this.

An undercaste member in an alternate-history China must overcome his lack of self-confidence to overthrow his tyrannical masters to save his wife from an unjust execution
A girl who can heal by touch is forced to use her gift to help the people who murdered her family seize control in a civil war, and must learn to put her past behind her in order to work from within to bring about the demise of their house.
A gullible man in an unhappy marriage must learn to think for himself when he tries to get rid of his wife during a zombie apocalypse so he can be with the woman he loves, unaware that the two women are secretly plotting against him.

The easiest way to look at story is that it's the internal struggle the character goes thorough to resolve a personal issue. The plot is how they accomplish that struggle. (Special thanks to Lisa Maxey for her comment, and her examples)

All three (now four) play useful roles in developing a story, but skipping a step in the process can lead to frustration. So next time inspiration hits you, take a moment to consider if it's just an idea, a premise, or if you have a fully formed plot.What makes up your story?

And if you have a novel that's stalled at page fifty or languishing in a drawer, take a peek at see if it never made it to the plot stage.

Do you have any stalled or languishing stories? Where do you think the problem might lie?

Guest Author John Yeoman: Three Great Tips From An Old Crime Writer

2013-05-29T07:02:00.000-04:00

By John Yeoman

Join me in welcoming Dr. John Yeoman back to the blog to chat with us about tricks to keep our readers enthralled with our characters.

Dr. John Yeoman has 42 years experience as a commercial author, newspaper editor and one-time chairman of a major PR consultancy. He has published eight books of humor, some of them intended to be humorous.

Take it away John...

It’s amazing what you can learn from old crime writers, even when they’re poor authors.

I have just been reading Malcolm Sage, Detective (1921) by Herbert George Jenkins. He wrote around the time of Edgar Wallace but he lacked Wallace’s manic ingenuity. Jenkins, in a word, is stagy.

In his tales, the butler really does do it, the reader is presented with just two possible suspects of which one is blatantly a decoy, and the villain is called - nudge, nudge - ‘Sir Jasper’. That said, Jenkins knew his stage business. He could keep the reader enthralled, even when his plots were as clunky as the Woodman in the Wizard of Oz. How did he do it?

He used ‘choric orchestration’. That is, his characters add a revealing subtext, unspoken, to almost their every word by their involuntary body language.

As soon as Lady Glanedale ‘elevates her eyebrows’ at the master detective Sage, without deigning to reply to him, we know she’s a wrong ‘un. Whenever Sage ‘mechanically’ fingers his fountain pen, or a paperweight, or the pages of a book, the reader can deduce that he has stumbled upon a Clue.

While he listens to witnesses, with no obvious interest, he compulsively doodles. ‘He drew a cottage upon his thumbnail.’ With each doodle, the reader expects him to sketch the face of the true culprit. Maddeningly, he never does.

The behavioral tics of Sage and his characters dance around the stories like a demented chorus, singing: ‘Pay attention! This bit is important.’ Remarkably, it works.

How can we adapt choric orchestration in our own stories, to keep our readers enthralled, even throughout long passages of dialogue or exposition?

Jenkins employs three tricks: characterizing descriptions of speech actions, sub-textual clues to each character’s private thoughts, and stage business that adds a revealing context to prosaic exchanges of dialogue.

Here are some tips for using his techniques. (The examples given are my own.)

1. Characterizing descriptions of speech actions

These have the added merit of helping us to avoid tedious repetitions like ‘she said’/’he replied’ that make a story read like a ping pong match. They also eliminate the need for adverbs, the sign of an amateur.

‘She whispered softly’ becomes ‘I strained to hear her’. Likewise, ‘He said, gruffly’ might be ‘His words sounded like gravel in a cement mixer.’ ‘She lisped, delightfully’: ‘I heard the wings of an angel, flying low.’ ‘He replied, angrily’: ‘His voice was broken glass.’ ‘She said, in a beautiful voice’: ‘Her voice reminded me of summer nights in old Castilia.’

2. Clues to character’s private thoughts

Body language can let the reader into our characters’ minds without the clumsiness of a direct statement eg: ‘I could see the man was lying’.

‘She wept’: ‘Her body shook with silent sobs.’ ‘I said, thoughtfully’: ‘I pulled meditatively upon my right ear lobe.’ ‘She snorted, derisively’: ‘She elevated one elegant eyebrow.’ ‘He gasped’: ‘He twirled his fingers with bewildering rapidity.’ ‘He asked, bemused’: ‘He tugged the end of his beard as if he could tease from it some answer.’

3. Stage business that adds context to an exchange of dialogue

This tactic is very useful. It lets you unfold a little story--ominous, amusing, or whatever you wish--behind the surface narrative, to add nuances to the main event. The elisions [...] indicate passages of intervening dialogue.

‘He counted upon his fingers’ ... ‘He ran out of fingers and flapped his hands’ ... ‘He closed his fist abruptly’

‘She toyed with a paper clip’ ... ‘She bent the paper clip into a little man’ ... ‘Her paper clip had now acquired two devilish horns’

‘I traced the outline of a hand upon a sheet of paper with a charcoal stick’ ... ‘I showed him the outline of my hand’ ... ‘I smudged the charcoal outline’ ... ‘“The picture is not the event,” I explained. “By itself, it tells us nothing.”’

It can be great fun to collect alternative ways of saying ‘He said’/‘she riposted’, etc. Some folk have even compiled databases of inventive figures of speech, filed under key words. Need a colorful way to write: ‘he growled’? Enquire within.

But it can be a dangerous sport.

It tempts one all too readily into the tutti frutti style of aureate discourse, where every rift is loaded with superfluous lore. Stage business should be dropped into a story very judiciously, like a bouquet garni in a casserole, lest our readers-- their eyes as cold as a taxman’s smile-- cry ‘Curse you, sweet poet!’ And our tale goes to pot.

As you see, it did. Now, uh, what was I saying?

A wealth of further ideas for writing fiction that sells can be found in his free 14-part course.

10 Things to Remember About Sequels

2013-05-24T07:01:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Dipping into the archives today since it's a holiday weekend here in the US. Enjoy!

Writing a sequel is hard. I mean, really hard. I had no idea the first time I wrote one, and figured book two would be just as easy as book one. It was my first sequel, and I learned a lot doing it. If you haven't faced one yet (or you have and it made you want to pull your hair out) here are some tips on dealing with book two.

1. A sequel should be its own story.

Unless you already have a slew of books under your belt and can get away with breaking one story into multiple books (and let's face it, most of us can't do that), a sequel should be it's own story. It needs to be understandable even if someone didn't read the first one. By that I mean, it should have a goal, scenes to achieve that goal, and a resolution to that goal just like any other book. A common mistake for sequels (especially middle books of trilogies) is that it sets up book three. Instead of being a complete book, it's like one big boggy middle.

2. A sequel should remind readers about book one, without rehashing the whole thing or relying on the first to make sense.

This is a toughy, because odds are, book one ended with a natural transition to book two. You can't talk about the problems in B2 without mentioning B1. Finding the right balance between explaining critical B1 events and keeping B2 focused on the new plot is challenging. What I eventually did was pretend readers knew all about B1 while writing the draft. I treated it just like backstory, because B1 is essentially all backstory for B2. After I was done, I went back and looked at all those backstory pieces. Were they clear in context, or did I need to add a few lines to explain what I meant. While you'll probably have to do some infodumping, (and it's okay in this context), make sure you only explain the bare minimum needed to get the referenced material.

3. A sequel should maintain the same things readers loved about book one, but not duplicate it.

Your first instinct will probably be to do something totally different so it's not the same book again, but then you risk losing everything readers liked in the first place. And since the story is continuing, a lot of similar things will still be happening. Look for ways to approach similar but necessary things from a new angle. Is there a way to add a layer of emotion to it? Add a complication based on what happened before? Did the characters learn anything in B1 that make them approach the same issues in B2 differently? Be wary of trying so hard not to copy yourself that you ignore good ideas just because "I did that in book one." Judge each event and see how close it really is, and if anything new is learned from it.

4. A sequel should reveal new things about the characters and world.

Readers want to keep discovering more about your world and characters. Dig deep to find new secrets or cool new world building to keep them hooked. If you have a book three, it's okay to hold some stuff back (or better yet--use this as an opportunity to plant some seeds for B3) for the next book. However, also don't be afraid of using up "all the good stuff" for B2. Look for opportunities to reveal, and be able to build off those reveals later.

5. The characters should have grown some.

Your characters underwent some tough stuff last book, and they learned a thing or two from it. Don't have them making the same mistakes all over again. Let them make new mistakes, or even have learned the lessons wrong so they make a bigger mistake this time around. It's fun for readers to see characters avoid something that would have tripped them up in the first book.

6. Don't forget your secondary characters.

Book twos are a great place to explore your secondary characters some. Try giving them more responsibility or opportunities to act. Small book one walk on characters are also great resources for characters in book two. Maybe they can fill a role to add depth and continuity where a new character wouldn't.

7. Be careful not to add too many new characters.

It's very easy to add way too many new faces in a B2. Make sure you keep it reasonable, and anyone who shows up really does advance the story and is critical to the plot. Check with existing characters to see if they could fill that role.

8. A sequel should keep raising the stakes.

This is another hard one, because chances are the stakes ended pretty high in the first book. You might be tempted to start off with a bang, but be wary of hitting the high note too early and have no where to go. It's okay for this book to start off lower since it's its own book with new goals. Overall, things will probably be more at stake since events in B1, but you can build toward that instead of starting off there. Just make sure you don't start too low and treat the B1 events like they never had any consequences.

9. Remember book two isn't a set up for book three.

Yes, this is kinda in here twice, but it's important to remember. You probably have some really amazing things planned for B3, and you want to hint about those or get things in order so it all works out right. While some of this is fine, it can easily take over and you wind up with a book that doesn't offer a satisfying ending. It's okay to foreshadow a little, but don't leave readers hanging, or get them to a place that's about to get really good and just stop. Save that great hook as your B3 opening.

10. Remember that almost every writer falls on their face writing book two.

I have this from good authority, so don't stress if your first draft (or second, or fourth) isn't singing to you. This can be a very hard book to get right, but if you keep working on it, you'll get there. And I'm also told that hardly anyone ever goes through it again.

Even Alpha Writers Need Beta Readers

2013-05-22T07:27:00.000-04:00

By Tiffany Reisz, @tiffanyreisz

Let’s talk betas! Not the fishies, the people! First of all, what is a beta? You often hear the term in reference to software programs or video games. Beta testers are customers or users a company chooses to try out their new product before it’s ready for the market. The everyday user might find bugs and quirks that the software engineer who designed the game or product missed. A product in “beta” is an almost finished product not ready for market yet.

For writers, betas are our first readers of our new books. Many published writers, even bestselling and award-winning authors, have either a critique partner or a set of beta readers who read their books prior to publication. Not every writer uses betas, however. And usually you can tell who those writers are when you read their books.

Why should you use beta readers?

’Twas a bestselling book by a bestselling author from a major publisher. I picked it up because I heard that it was full of naughtiness. Alas, it was also flush with errors. The lead female character’s name was even misspelled at one point in the book. One extra set of eyes before that manuscript went to the publisher could have caught that glaring error. This Alpha Author needed a Beta Reader (or two or three) big time.

My own beta readers have caught the following errors in my books.

continuity errors (he’s driving a Jaguar in one scene and in a Ferrari the next scene)
incorrect words (I used “riff” when I meant “rift,” an error spellcheck missed)
factual errors (soil in New Hampshire is marshy, not dry)
character issues (she says she won’t do something in the first chapter, by the third chapter she’s doing it without any explanation why)
bad writing (seriously, Tiffany, if you leave that paragraph in, I’ll come to your house and punch you in the nose but knowing you, you’ll like it)

Do you want a book full of continuity errors, incorrect words that are spelled correctly but are in fact, incorrect, factual errors, characters whose behavior doesn’t make sense, and bad writing? Then don’t use beta readers.

If you’d rather have a book free of those sorts of errors, then get eyes on your pages before sending your manuscript off to your likely overworked editor. Your editor is one set of eyes. Your copyeditor is another. Your proofreader is another. That’s not enough to catch every error in your novel.

How do you find beta readers?

They’re all around you. I’ve found beta readers at my public library writing group, at writers conferences, through social media (including a fan forum for my favorite actor Jason Isaacs). If you present your work to a group of other writers, pay attention to their feedback. The writers who tell you what you did wrong will make better beta readers than someone who gives you nothing but compliments.

I have one strict rule for beta readers--they have to be writers. Why writers and not fans? Fans beg to read my books pre-publication after all. I tell them no every time. Fans read for pleasure, and they deserve a finished, polished draft, not a confused muddle of a work-in-progress. Also fans read with love and have trouble telling one of their favorite authors they’ve made a mistake. I did a test once where I let five random people beta read a short story. The five volunteers included two fans of mine, two professional writers, and one professional editor for an indie press. The two fans returned the short story with nothing but punctuation errors marked. The two professional writers gave me great constructive criticism. The professional editor gave me pages of notes. Fans make bad critics. That’s why I love them as fans (seriously, I love my damn fans *sniffs*) and never use them as betas.

Who are my betas?

I have five and each of them has their own speciality.

My literary fiction writing friend Robin is my first beta reader when the book is finished. Why is she first? Her speciality is macro edits. She tells me if whole chapters or scenes have to die, if certain plot points need moved in the book. In other words, Robin helps me build the house while my other betas help me paint and decorate it.

My boyfriend, author Andrew Shaffer, is like a heatseeking missile that targets anything superfluous. If a scene goes on too long, if a paragraph doesn’t move the story forward, he’ll demand that I either justify its existence or cut it. Almost always I cut it.

My erotic romance writer friend Karen Stivali acts as a psychologist to my characters. If any of my characters does anything out of character, she susses it out and I fix it.

Kinky writer Miranda Baker keeps my writing honest. If anything feels forced or awkward, she points it out, tells me I’m doing it wrong, and makes me make it better.

Friend and freelance editor Alyssa Linn Palmer (also a published author) has a copyeditor’s eye for detail. She usually gets the book last after the other beta readers have gone through it. Wrong words, grammar errors, odd punctuation are her areas of expertise.

The feedback from those five readers burns the chaff out of my books leaving only the wheat behind.

I don’t have a quid pro quo relationship with my beta readers. If they need or want me to beta their books, I do so happily, but I neither pay or barter with them. I say this because many writers are worried about having to pay their beta readers. I’ve never paid a penny to any of them although they do get thanked in book acknowledgements and with signed copies of the finished products.

How do you best work with a beta reader?

When working with a beta reader, make sure you let him or her know what your concerns are. That way the beta will be more likely to catch those sorts of errors. Do you have a bad habit of being too wordy? Ask your beta to keep an eye out for scenes or paragraphs that can be cut. Was your last book criticized for being too slow-paced? Tell your readers you want to cut the crap in your book and get the plot running like Orb on Kentucky Derby Day.

Give your beta readers permission to criticize you. No one likes criticism, but you can’t let your feelings interfere with getting the best book possible out to your readers. I had one beta reader tell me that if I didn’t cut out a scene he deemed stupid and cheesy, he would fictionalize himself, enter my book, and murder my characters. I took the cheesy scene out. He’d been absolutely correct. I adored him for being so passionate and honest about my book. I’d let him beta read for me again in a heartbeat.

Your book will eventually stand on the world’s stage--Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iBooks, etc. Everyone everywhere will be able to read it, review it, and criticize it. Giving your books to beta readers gives you the writer a chance to save yourself a lot of heartache by fixing your book’s issues before publication rather than kicking yourself when every other blogger/reviewer points out glaring errors in your book after it’s published.

One final word on beta readers--sometimes they will disagree with each other and you will disagree with them. One beta reader might love a certain scene. Another beta reader doesn’t see the point of if. You know your characters and your story better than anyone. Trust your gut. It’s okay to stand your ground. It’s your book, not theirs. I have a sex scene in THE ANGEL book two in my Original Sinners series that involves a couple engaging in erotic cutting or blood-play. One beta reader told me that not only would my publisher not allow the scene in the book, my readers would freak out. I know my characters, however. I knew this scene was true to who they are so I kept the scene in. Yes, a few readers freaked out but I’ve lost count of how many readers told me it’s not only their favorite love scene in my series, but their favorite love scene in any book ever.

Whether or not you take it, always listen to criticism, carefully consider it, and sleep on it. That scene you’re married to on Monday might be your worst enemy on Friday. My books easily go through twelve drafts. Cutting, changing, editing, revising, and rewriting rewriting rewriting a book isn’t a sign you did something wrong with your book. It’s proof you’re doing something right.

Who shouldn’t be a beta reader?

Betta fish may be cute but they make bad beta readers.

Tiffany Reisz lives in Lexington, Kentucky. She is the award-winning and international bestselling author of The Original Sinners series from Mira Books. When not writing or tweeting @tiffanyreisz, you can find her trying to teach a betta fish how to be a beta reader. So far, it’s not really working out.

World Building Tips Learned at the Louvre

2013-05-20T08:13:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

The hubby and I recently returned from a (long overdue) vacation in Paris. Aside from being totally awesome, our trip to the Louvre Museum was also interesting from a writing perspective, especially for this fantasy world-building gal. Seeing artifacts from cultures thousands of years old is inspiring.

You'd think staring at one old pot after another would get old, but it was fascinating. One region used red clay, another white. One painted on the outside of the bowl, another on the inside. Some vases were tall and thin, others were wide and flat. Some even used animal shapes, like a chicken pitcher.

Me being me couldn't help but see a correlation to how to build a fantasy world.

What all of these artifacts had in common was that they were all crafted from what the cultures had nearby. Different soils, clays, flowers and minerals to make pigments, all of these things were specific and even unique to the region. That gave their art and artifacts their own flavor.

Things to Consider When Building Your World

Color Use
Color can have a practical, aesthetic, or spiritual reason. Just like purple was used for royalty due to the rarity of the dye, another color might be scarce in your world and have particular uses and meanings behind those uses. For example, in my current WIP, color denotes status and is used as a identifier.

What does color mean to your characters?
Is there a forbidden color?
Are some colors harder to come by?
Does color affect or influence any social customs?
Is there a theme with your colors?

(More on themes and world building here)

Material Use
Different colored stones occur in different regions, or wood from the trees, or even metals mined from the ground. Coastal dwellers might use mud bricks but those who live in heavy forest areas build with wood. A desert culture probably isn't building with wood and stone, and anyone who does is likely to be wealthy or powerful enough to import them in. What materials the population has on hand goes a long way to how they create their cities and the things in those cities.

What building materials are nearby?
What's imported? Exported?
What are common household items made from?
What are luxury items made from?
What are considered luxury items?

(More on setting and world building here)

Views on Art
Different cultures have different views on what art is. Some consider any images of the human form to be taboo, why others build statues in a great leader's likeness. How your people create and view art says a lot about their culture and beliefs.

What is the purpose of art in this culture?
Who are the artists?
What status do they hold?
How prevalent is art?
What's taboo? Common? Avant garde?
What form does art take? (statues, painting, beads, jewelry?)
What art is valuable vs low-class "peoples art?"

(More on world building and details here)

Decoration Uses
Just like art, how a culture decorates shows their personality. Clean lines and uncluttered gardens speak of a different kind of person than a wild garden with soft, curving paths. The character who wears all black is different from the one who dresses in bright patterns and colors. Furniture meant to stimulate the senses says things functional furniture does not.

How do your characters decorate?
What is decoration limited to?
What is considered good taste?
What is considered tacky?
What is the differences between high class and low class decorations?
What are the differences between gender styles?
How prevalent is the decoration?

(More on building a fictional town here)

Details can carry a lot of weight and subconsciously clue the reader in on the subtleties of your world. They can explain elements of your world without you ever having to stop and infodump, which allows you to flesh out a world that feels rich and immersive, and still gives the reader everything they need to understand it.

Next time you're building a world--even if it's not fantasy--think about the things your characters find beautiful and how they make and show that beauty.

Real Life Diagnostics: Internal Dialog and Pacing: How Much is Too Much?

2013-05-18T09:03:00.000-04:00

Critique By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Real Life Diagnostics is a weekly column that studies a snippet of a work in progress for specific issues. Readers are encouraged to send in work with questions, and I diagnose them on the blog. It’s part critique, part example, and designed to help the submitter as well as anyone else having a similar problem.

If you're interested in submitting to Real Life Diagnostics, please check out these guidelines.

Submissions currently in the queue: Eight

This week’s questions:

1. I want to use internal dialogue to heighten the urgency and provide insight, but does it hinder the pace too much?

2. I don’t want to add a pile of ‘he thought’ into the mix, so I chose italics without the single quote mark. Is this appropriate or is there a better styling method?

3. Did it hook you for a story opener?

Market/Genre: Regency Romance

On to the diagnosis…

Original text:

“Alt! Voi piccoli demoni!”

The colorful invective reverberated across St. James Park and destroyed Anthony’s first peaceful moment in a fortnight. He couldn’t translate the diatribe, but concluded that heaven had crowned the foreigner ‘the bravest of idiots.’ What lunacy possessed the female shouting the firestorm? Didn’t she realize she stampeded towards her grisly demise?

While his brain cataloged the rest of the scene, his feet already had begun thumping down the path. He counted six street-hardened boys, kicking a lumpy burlap sack. Were they armed? He patted his pockets and tallied a couple farthings for his arsenal. Need a weapon. Perhaps a stick. What the…?

With equal folly, the chit hitched her dress for the entire world to gawk at her full-length boots. He would have tossed his sister over his knee if Pip displayed such indecency. Nevertheless, the protestor’s speed impressed him. He ventured that she could best an alarmed rabbit back to its hole. No time. Blast her. He dismissed the notion to pause and scavenge for a makeshift cudgel. If he slowed, she might die. Oh, Lord. No.

He lifted his pace to an Olympian’s dash. No dying. Not on his watch. He should throttle her. Yes! Shake the naivety right out of her skull. Despite the sunny morning, the frosty March air burned his lungs. Just another five seconds should do it. For the first time in his life, he prayed for angels to trip a woman, smearing her face through the mud.

Thunderings.

Ten steps too late. The goosecap-girl had barged headlong into the pack.

Failure. No. Not again.

My Thoughts in Purple:

“Alt! Voi piccoli demoni!”

The colorful invective reverberated across St. James Park and destroyed Anthony’s first peaceful moment in a fortnight. He couldn’t translate the diatribe, but concluded that heaven had crowned the foreigner ‘the bravest of idiots.’ [What lunacy possessed the female shouting the firestorm? Didn’t she realize she stampeded towards her grisly demise? ] The thought feels disconnected from the text. It mentions a running woman, but there's nothing that clearly shows that.

While his brain cataloged the rest of the scene, his feet already had begun thumping down the path. He counted six street-hardened boys, kicking a lumpy burlap sack. [Were they armed?] Since the POV is more omniscient, the thoughts aren't flowing as well in italics. He patted his pockets and tallied a couple farthings for his arsenal.[ Need a weapon. Perhaps a stick. What the…?] Same here. Part of the reason I think, is that the text feels formal and the internal dialog feels casual. I'm also not sure what's going on.

[With equal folly, the chit hitched her dress] It's a little unclear what's going on in this scene. Equal folly to what? Who's the girl? for the entire world to gawk at her full-length boots. [He would have tossed his sister over his knee if Pip displayed such indecency.] This is a good example of internalization in the text. This feels like his thought but no need for italics. Nevertheless, [the protestor’s] I don't know who this is speed impressed him. He ventured that she could best an alarmed rabbit back to its hole. [No time. Blast her.] for what? Though this feels more natural as an italic thought, because of the emphasis. [He dismissed the notion to pause and scavenge for a makeshift cudgel. If he slowed, she might die. Oh, Lord. No. ] The thought doesn't mesh with the matter-of-fact way her explains the situation. It's also telling a bit.

He lifted his pace to an Olympian’s dash. [No dying. Not on his watch.] Feels anachronistic, and a bit stuck in [He should throttle her. Yes! Shake the naivety right out of her skull.] This feels like a good thought for the situation and reads naturally Despite the sunny morning, the frosty March air burned his lungs. [Just another five seconds should do it.] Feels stuck in For the first time in his life, he prayed for angels to trip a woman, smearing her face through the mud.

[Thunderings. ] I don't understand this thought.

Ten steps too late. The goosecap-girl had barged headlong into the pack.

[Failure. No. Not again.] The "failure" doesn't seem to fit. I can see thinking no, not again though.

The questions:

1. I want to use internal dialogue to heighten the urgency and provide insight, but does it hinder the pace too much?
The italics aren't working for me for several reasons. Most of them are more internalization than internal dialog (a subtle difference, but important) so italics make them stand out more than they should and not flow well with the narrative. They also feel more casual and modern vs the rest of the more formal omniscient text.

They also obscure more than provide insight, because there's not enough to understand what's going on in the scene. The descriptions don't match the thoughts. I suspect there's more being seen than the narrator is conveying to the reader.

I'd suggest just making them part of the narrative and doing them more as internalization than internal dialog. Pick only the one you want to emphasize (Like the "oh no" types) and let the rest flow with text.

The pace does drag a bit, because what's going on the importance of these events is unclear. More internalization and description would actually help here. I'd also suggest a little more clarity and consistency in how things are referred to. There's a female, then a chit, then a protester, then a woman, then a goosecap-girl. Is this all the same person? Who's shouting? Running? Who does he chase after and why?

(More on pacing here)

You might consider doing a little more to set the scene and establish who's there and what the reader is looking at. It's hard to follow right now. A few lines is probably all you'd need, and you can even do that through internalization. It doesn't have to be a long descriptive passage. There's a bit of telling and explaining right now as well that could be tweaked to be more in Anthony's head to further establish the scene, get that insight you want, and show more to hook the reader.

(More on setting the scene here)

2. I don’t want to add a pile of ‘he thought’ into the mix, so I chose italics without the single quote mark. Is this appropriate or is there a better styling method?
I agree with the "he thought" reservation, but I think some kind of tag to show that it's the character thinking would help clarify things. I'd suggest the old "touch your face" trick. Draw attention to the character's head or face before the thought, which positions it "in the head" of the character for the reader. For example...

The colorful invective reverberated across St. James Park and destroyed Anthony’s first peaceful moment in a fortnight. He couldn’t translate the diatribe, but concluded that heaven had crowned the foreigner ‘the bravest of idiots.’ He frowned. What lunacy possessed the female shouting the firestorm? Didn’t she realize she stampeded towards her grisly demise?

The text itself reads like a thought, so with just a little nudge to put it in the head of the character, it flows naturally in the narrative and doesn't stick out.

(More on internalization tricks here)

3. Did it hook you for a story opener?
Not yet because I'm lost as to what's happening. Anthony is reacting to things the reader doesn't see (or see clearly) so I feel like I'm only getting half the picture. I also don't understand why any of this matters to him or what he's trying to do, so I have no clear goal to hook me or stakes to worry about.

Your instincts about internalization to keep the pace up and provide insight are dead on, so perhaps add more there to establish what's happening and why it matters. Let Anthony set the scene for the reader by what he sees, thinks, and feels is important as the story opens. I get the sense important things are afoot, but it's not coming across in the text yet.

(More on describing action here)

Overall, I think a little more fleshing out will help get this where you want it to be. There's more in your head than it making it to the page, and as soon as you add some details to get the reader on board, this will probably tighten right up.

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

Win a 100-Page Critique From Janice Hardy

2013-05-17T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice Hardy

For the last several years I've participated in the Brenda Novak online auction for Diabetes research. This is a fantastic charity where writers and literary folk from all over donate time, prizes, and other goodies to help out a worthy cause.

This year, up for bids is a 100-page critique from me.

There's no time limit to when you can submit your pages and no genre or market requirements. If you're a regular follower of the blog, you have a pretty good idea of what my critique style is like from the weekly Real Life Diagnostics, and I give these charity critiques my full attention and really dig in. I'm happy to answer questions and discuss your critique after as well (I never crit and run).

There's also a ton of other items up for bid, including a slew of terrific things from my writer/agent brothers and sisters at Nelson Literary Agency, so head on over and take a peek!

Guest Author Amy Butler Greenfield: Putting Your Internal Editor to Work

2013-05-15T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Amy Butler Greenfield, @ab_greenfield

Join me in welcoming Amy Butler Greenfield to the blog today to chat with us about our internal editors. We all have them, but do we control them or do they control us?

Amy was on her way to a history Ph.D. when she gave into temptation and became a writer. Among other honors, her books have won a PEN/Albrand Award, the Veolia Prix du Livre Environnement, and a Beacon of Freedom Award.

Born in Philadelphia, Amy grew up in the Adirondack Mountains of New York State. She studied at Williams College and the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and she earned a graduate degree in history at Oxford University on a Marshall Scholarship. She now lives with her family on the edge of the Cotswolds in England, where she writes, reads, and bakes double-dark-chocolate cake.

She loves music, romantic adventure, history, quirky science, and suspense, which explains how she came to write her first YA novel, Chantress, from Simon & Schuster.

Take it away Amy...

Oh, the dreaded internal editor! If you’re a writer, you’ll know its insidious voice all too well. This chapter makes no sense, it whispers. Your plot is in pieces. You ought to quit now because you’ll never write anything good.

How do you keep writing in the face of this onslaught?

Some people advise you to laugh at your internal editor, or imagine escorting him or her out the door. Others recommend you probe your past to see where your internal editor came from. These approaches can be helpful, but I’m going to suggest something different:

Put your internal editor to work.

Start by giving your editor a sheet of paper. (A computer file works just fine, too, but I find paper tends to slow my editor down a bit, which can be handy.) Your editors will love this, trust me. The first time I did this, my own internal editor was only too happy to tell me how bad the chapter was, and what a terrible job I was doing.

Let your editors rant, but don’t take any of it too seriously. They just need to get it out of their systems. As soon as you can, ask them the key question:

“Do you have anything specific to tell me?”

If my internal editor falls silent, as she often does, I know that her criticisms mean nothing except that she’s afraid of this writing business. She fears that I won’t do a good job, that I’m going to make a fool of myself—and of her. I’ve learned I can safely ignore those kinds of worries. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “Pretty much every writer I know is afraid of that, too.” And then I get back to work.

Sometimes, however, my internal editor has something very specific to say:

“The pace has really slowed down in this chapter. Can’t you get rid of some of that backstory?”
“Why did the antagonist do that? What’s his motivation?”
“You’ve completely dropped the subplot. Either do something with it, or cut it out.”

These are comments I can use—and the more specific the criticism, the more worthwhile it is to look at it.

Not all of the comments are true, of course, and not all of them need to be dealt with right away. I may, for instance, decide that the chapter pacing is fine, as it is, or I might wait till the next draft to trim the backstory. But listening to my internal editor can save me a lot of trouble. When I’m stuck, she often has a good idea where the problem is. And when I’m done with my draft, I can use her list of issues and problems to help me revise.

Giving my internal editor her own sheet of paper has had other benefits, too. Now that she knows she’ll get a chance to speak, she’s eased up on me. Lots of time she just lets me write. When she does speak up, sometimes she’s still mean, but more often she’s simply in problem-solving mode.

There’s been a change in me as well. Instead of seeing my internal editor as an enemy, I’ve come to see her as an ally: cantankerous, sometimes snippy, but someone who can help me make my stories better. And that’s made the process of writing them easier.

About Chantress

Sing and the darkness will find you.

When Lucy hears tantalizing music in the air and sings it, she unlocks a terrible secret: She is a Chantress, a spell-singer, hidden from the world by a desperate enchantment.

Her song puts her within reach of England’s cruel Lord Protector and his mind-reading hunters, the Shadowgrims. The Protector has killed all Chantresses, for they alone can destroy him. Only Lucy has survived—so far.

In terrible danger, Lucy takes shelter with Nat, a spy who turns her heart upside-down. They want to overthrow the Protector, but Lucy is completely untrained, and Nat deeply distrusts her magic. If Lucy cannot master the song-spells, how long can she even stay alive?

Lyrical, dangerous and romantic, Chantress will capture readers in a spell they won’t want to break.

Hiring an Editor - Yay or Nay?

2013-05-13T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Pulling from the archives today. Just got back from a week away and I'm too jet lagged to write (grin). Enjoy!

Getting published is a hard thing, and it's very competitive. You can have a good book and still not land an agent or an editor, which is incredibly frustrating. The pressure is tectonic plate-quality sometimes, and many a writer has thought about finding outside, professional help.

But should you?

ETA: This is purely for writers going the traditional route. If you're self publishing, hiring an editor and even a copy editor are important to putting out a quality product.

PRO: If the goal is to learn to be a better writer, then hiring an editor could be a good idea for those who have the money to spend. (If you don't, then don't stress over it. You can improve and get published without ever spending money on an editor)

I think the end goal really plays a huge part in deciding this. If your goal is to have someone evaluate your work and give feedback on why you're not taking the next step, then an editor could be very helpful. They might see things you or your critique group can't (no matter how good they are, they aren't editors in the publishing biz so they evaluate things differently), and be able to shed new light on what's holding you back. If you want to learn what things to look for so you can better edit yourself, a freelance editor can also be helpful. A more personalized writing class so to speak.

CON: If the goal is to get 95% of the way there, and then hire someone to "make you good enough" and get that last 5%, you're most likely setting yourself up for failure.

If the end goal is to make the book publishable, I think hiring an editor might not be the best choice. Every editor will bring their own tastes to the book, and they could very well suggest things that change your voice. You might make changes based on what they say, but not understand why they said it--or worse, not agree but do it anyway because you want to sell your novel so badly. A really horrible possibility--you could indeed get a manuscript accepted by an agent, but be unable to turn in another book good enough to sell (since you never learned those vital last steps). You could be setting yourself up to always need outside help.

Now, I can hear some of you thinking "Well, an agent and an editor make changes after they take on the book, so why is this any different?"

Which is a good question. My answer: Because you were good enough to get there on your own, and now they're going to help make the book better. If you can't get to pro level under your own skill, playing in the big leagues is going to be incredibly difficult and heartbreaking. You will likely end up being asked to do things you're not capable of doing yet. And that's a great way to kill a career before it starts. You probably don't want to be a one-book wonder.

For me, finding a great critique group seems like a much better way to learn, but not everyone has access to that. Or maybe they don't have time to reciprocate, but still want the feedback. I can see reasons where hiring an editor could be a good choice, same as I can see bad reasons for it.

This is a choice every writer has to make for themselves. Some may never even think about it, some may look at it as another step in their writing education. Some may even look at it as a shortcut to publication. I'm a firm believer in doing what's right for you, but also understand why you're doing it. Just like your characters, understand the motivations and make sure you're doing it for the right reasons.

Whether those reasons tell you yay or nay.

Would you hire (or have you hired) an editor? Why or why not?

Guest Author Michael Kinn: Speculative Ninjas for the Win!

2013-05-10T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Michael Kinn

Please join me in welcoming Michael Kinn back to the blog today to ask a very good question: why do you write? He shares his reasons for writing speculative fiction, but all writers can benefit from a little introspection about their own genres and tastes.

Michael makes up stuff as a scientist, a storyteller and a writer, any combination of which sets his creative juices flowing. He loves the ocean, writes under the influence of green tea and finds life a breeze compared to negotiating his teenagers’ freedom charters. Michael is addicted to great stories and in dire need of extra lives.

Take it away Michael...

Whatever your occupation, someone is bound to ask the dreaded question: “Why do you do what you do?” Great if you happen to be a rocket scientist or a brain surgeon. What if you’re, say, a writer? Why do you write?

The answers will vary. But you better have one ready. For someone will call you on it, challenge your very existence. And just like you’ll need to justify why you’re a chess boxer, tattoo artist, bonsai clipper or whale therapist, you’re going to have to grow a pitch in the wake of deep soul searching or make due with a flippant comeback. Better, combine both.

Mine’s: “‘Cause I love extreme writing.”

It’s a pitch, and, like any pitch, it’s a bonbon of flippancy wrapped around a sweet core of truth. Speculative fiction writing is an extreme sport. It sharpens the ultimate survival skill: imagination. Wooing a hot date, anticipating your enemy’s attack or gymnasts making the jump, all require fast-footed imagining. We reached the moon because we imagined it. Aliens, get in line.

Down to the wire, fiction writing and reading exercise your prime survival skill. Speculative fiction writers and readers are at the extreme end of that scale… survival ninjas for the win!

Dreaming up stuff is part of why we do so well as a species, learning and growing as we conceive new possibilities. It links us as humans. Creativity is deeply tied to our survival, which is why courting the muse feels sooooo good.

Of course, writing about survival is great fun too. There’s nothing more exhilarating than surviving a tight scrape. In space, no one will hear you scream… What’s not to love? Especially if it involves creativity, like strapping yourself in a spacesuit before opening the hatch to flush out the alien.

The game of speculative fiction, like the Asian game of Go, has very few rules. Both give imagination near free rein, making them infinitely hard—and infinitely interesting. Speculative fiction, as a game of fewest rules, spans the crown of extreme imaginative writing.

It’s a brilliant occupation. And if editing ever drains your muse, leaving your creative side screaming for a change, just remember that fiction is not the only game in town. Music, story telling, sculpting... any type of creative project will loosen those muscles, and get you back to play.

Richard Feynman, during a dry spell of scientific discovery, went back to “playing”, scientific free-wheeling, mixed with his drum sessions, life drawing and safe cracking, before dreaming up his famous diagrams modelling the behaviour of subatomic particles. Scientists could do worse than to irrigate dry spells with fiction writing. Giving the imagination free rein works wonders.

That’s why I love speculative fiction. It unlocks the imagination—opening the gate to the Kingdom of Wonder, as a reader, as a writer.

Now, bring on those aliens.

And next time someone asks the dreaded question, let them in on your ninja secret as you pass them a copy of your latest survival practice.

Guest Author Dana Gynther: Editors and Evolution

2013-05-08T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Dana Gynther

I'd like to welcome Dana Gynther to the blog today to chat with us about what it's like working with an editor. It can be an intimidating process--especially the first time--but it can also be a lot of fun and very inspiring.

Dana Gynther spent eighteen months in France after college, then returned to Alabama to earn an MA in French Literature from UA. After marrying a French-speaking Spaniard, she moved to her husband’s hometown, Valencia. They’ve been living there for twenty years where they work as teachers and translators. In fact, she was inspired to write Crossing on the Paris after translating a museum catalog about ocean liners. They also enjoy spending time with their two teenage daughters. You can learn more about her on her website or Facebook.

Take it away Dana...

Before my first phone conference with an editor, I was suffering from the sweaty-palm, squeaky-voice variety of nerves usually reserved for teenagers on a first date. Not that I find editors frightening per se, but I wanted to make a great impression knowing the sale of my book could depend on it. At the same time, I was worried she would demand unreasonable changes to my text. I’d heard horror stories about editors missing the whole point of a book and asking writers to make it “sexier” by doing things like changing a friendship into a heated romance, or a wise old man into a street-smart girl.

“Even if you hate her suggestions, say something like ‘That’s interesting’ or ‘Huh! I never thought about that before.’ Never say no straight away. It can all be worked out,” my savvy agent told me right before the call. “Keep an open mind—even if she suggests something you’re completely against.”

The truth is, I had already learned a thing or two about feedback before this conversation. I knew that, often times, my immediate reaction was to feel defensive or protective about my work and then, gradually, as the outsider’s idea seeped in, to realize it was for the best. Like that time when I went on a name-dropping binge, giving my character a Louis Vuitton trunk and Patou gowns. Or when, as a history enthusiast, I wanted to include every fun fact even remotely related to my story. So, although I was nervous about talking to the editor, I was prepared to be receptive to new ideas and certainly not antagonistic. Working with my agent, I had long since learned that a manuscript can always be improved (even though, like most writers, I’d wanted to be told it was perfect from the start).

After general introductions and niceties, the editor in question plunged right in.

“So, the character________.” (No spoilers here). “I think he needs some work.”

I knew—without even having to ponder it—that she was right. After all, editors find their calling for a reason; they are great readers, able to quickly put their finger on problems and think of possible solutions. Far from being the writer’s enemy, most all of them are allies. She had, with one swift reading (she’d flown through the text in an afternoon), spotted the character who had caused me problems, the one I had struggled with. And, although a secondary one, he played a crucial role.

In the original version, the character was a real drama bomb. Creepy from the outset, we later realized he was a bona fide lunatic. I’d endowed him with de Clerambault’s syndrome, the disorder that causes sufferers to believe that an individual—often a stranger—is in love with them, that they are meant to be together. I’d found it fascinating in Ian McEwan’s “Enduring Love” and thought I’d give it a whirl. I didn’t stop there, though. I made him a violent man with a dubious past. As for his physical description, he had a face “so commonplace, so utterly normal, it defied description”—but I threw in a scar and a peculiar gait for good measure.

The editor loved the book nonetheless and her suggestions were gentle, subtle.

“How would you feel about toning him down?” she asked. “Making him more universal, a bit less extreme? He could still do bad things, but maybe not be, uh, completely crazy.”

True, that man was someone very few people could really relate to (thank goodness!). And although I like grisly, dark characters (I was a Stephen King fan in high school), I had to agree—in this case, less could be more.

After our conversation, the editor decided to purchase the manuscript—now a published novel, “Crossing on the Paris,” which came out last November. But she left the decision on how that character should evolve up to me. In the end, he went from being a featureless madman to an attractive sweet-talker. Instead of scaring the protagonist, he was attentive and kind, able to woo her, but dangerous still: a cat playing with a mouse. At least most of us have heard of, if not met, men like that. And this man’s face got a description. He was real.

Giving the character a full make-over required a lot of rewriting and editing—every scene he was in was redone—but it was worth it. And really, like I said to the editor—“Huh! I never thought about that before!”

About Crossing on the Paris

“Downton Abbey meets Titanic”. It continues with “in this sweeping debut novel. Dana Gynther chronicles the lives of three women on board a majestic ocean liner traveling from France to New York in the wake of World War I. “

Take Two: When to Start a Sequel

2013-05-06T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Updating a post from the archives for today. This one is interesting because I wrote it before I finished my trilogy, and it's fun to see how my thoughts evolved after going through the process.

It seems like more and more books are series-based these days (especially in some genres), which can leave a lot of writers asking the same question--when is a good time to start my sequel?

I asked my agent the very same question before she sent my manuscript out on submission. She advised that I prepare a synopsis for the next two books so she'd have something to show editors, but to start on a new non-sequel book in the meantime. Her reasoning was that if the first book didn't sell, I wouldn't have wasted time on a sequel that also wouldn't sell, and would instead be ready with a new book.

Sound advice.

Just about everyone will tell you not to write the sequel for a book you haven't sold yet (for the above reasons). A lot of folks who've written the rest of the trilogy after they sold the first swear they'd never do it again. They'd write the whole thing first and then submit.

From the Write it All First Camp
When you have a book published and out in the world, you can't make changes to the story. Whatever you wrote you're stuck with. I found that true with The Shifter and after going through the trilogy experience, I'm in the "complete an entire first draft of a trilogy before I submitted book one" camp. There were too many things I wish I could have gone back and tweaked by the time I got to book three.

If you write the entire thing at once, anything you do in book three can be added to book one, and the entire series can be fleshed out as one story. Stories do evolve and ideas appear, and even writing skill improves over the course of three books.

However, for a straight series, the story would be different every book and not rely on the previous book, so I don't think I'd feel the same pressure. Though I would like to have a few rough drafts or at least detailed synopses of books two and three to make sure I fully understood where the series could go.

From the Wait to Write it Camp
Why spend a lot of time and emotional energy on something that might not ever sell? Having six or seven sequels ready to go is great if you sell that first book, but you can't guarantee a sale. And after spending so much time in one world with one set of characters, it might be even harder to break away and write something new.

It'll also take you a lot longer to get it done, which could be problematic if you have a contract to fulfill. Markets could even change before you get the entire thing written, leaving you with a slew of books with little future until the market changes again.

I think there's a happy medium in there though. A detailed outline or synopsis would help get the major points all aligned, and still let you write one book and send it out there. Some in depth character and world building notes can make sure you have a solid handle on how things work and how people live in that world. If the goal is to write one and then wait, the more details you can get down abut the next books would be a tremendous help when you sit down to write them.

Which way you want to go really depends on the story and the kind of writer you are and whether or not you're on deadline. If you have a multi-book story idea that you feel passionate about, and it's an all or nothing deal for you emotionally, then maybe you'd be willing to invest the extra time and write all three before you start querying. (Though do make the first book a stand alone if you can. The odds are SO much better for you that way). If you have plenty of ideas and don't feel emotionally driven to write a sequel unless someone asks for it, move on to other stories.

Are you in the write it first or wait and see camp?