Fortune Cookies, Black Moments and Stupid Choices
Published June 30, 2011 | 
I was reading the latest release by one of my top three favorite authors of all time. In my mind, these three woman and I make up a rock band known as The Literary Lovelies. One sings, one plays the guitar and one pounds the drums. I’m not in their league, so I’m relegated to the tambourine, but that’s cool. My guitar player is the one with the new book–the book that prompted this post.
In this new book, my guitar player brought to a close a long-running conflict between The Big Bad (TBB) and her heroine, whom I shall refer to as Lucky. The groundwork for the conflict between TBB and Lucky was well established. Lucky had her ass kicked a few times, kicked ass a few times and let the reader know that when it all hit the fan with TBB, folks were going to die. It was inevitable. At least it should have been inevitable. But my guitar player totally screwed up her riff and left typically screaming fans slack-jawed, and not in a good way.
There are very few rules I believe a writer should adhere to. After all, our calling is to push boundaries and test the limits of imagination. But the rules I do believe in? Let’s just say I’m fond of them. The foremost rule I believe an author must adhere to is this: maintain a suspension of disbelief. Suck the reader into the story, create characters they can love or love to hate, give them something to care about within a vibrant fictional world and develop tension that carries the plot forward. Commit to using every ounce of skill when you sit in front of the keyboard. If you can’t make the commitment? Find something else to do with your time. Readers deserve your best–each time, every time.
A close second is that the black moment in a story should be suitably climactic. Let’s say you’re writing an intense, dark urban fantasy and you can’t figure out how to have your main character find out she’s been poisoned. Sending her to dinner where the black moment is revealed by way of a fortune cookie is a bit anti-climactic. Sure, it might be funny. But if it doesn’t fit with the story? If you use the vehicle because you were too lazy to come up with something else? You yank the reader out of the story and back into reality, causing a primary disconnect between character and reader at a pivotal moment. No matter what you do later, you’ve lost the reader.
My guitar player did this to me. She built up the entire premise of a book on TBB and Lucky, finally put them in a room together and had Lucky think the bad person away. No, I’m not kidding. I wish I was. Lucky basically said, “You need to die,” and TBB complied. The book rapidly concluded and I shut off my e-reader, pissed off. How dare she do this to me? How dare she kick me out of what was, at best, a mediocre story not at all up to par with her skill, and then leave me feeling like she got tired of writing so she just ended it?
I realize writers make mistakes, but that’s where an editor should come in. This book shouldn’t have made it to the shelf. The editor should have demanded the writer write, but it didn’t happen. I’m incredibly disappointed in both parties because they failed me as a reader but more so as a long-time fan.
This was a hard post to write because it is inevitable that there will come a time when there will be readers who hate something I produce. I cringe with the certainty. The most I can do is solemnly vow to hold myself to my own rules and always give my very best, never thinking away the bad guy or getting bored and quitting the story before it’s done.
Trends, Genres and Knowing Thyself
Published June 23, 2011 | 
I have a real thing for shoes. I love them. I love them so much that it isn’t unheard of for me to buy a pair of shoes that almost fit with the understanding they’ll “shape to my foot,” whether they’re too large or (ouch) too small. In other words, I shove my size 10 flipper into a size 9 shoe and walk around the store like a wounded orangutan proclaiming, “Look! Aren’t they cute? And what a great deal!”
Writers tend to do this–not with shoes, but with manuscripts when it’s time to query. The dreaded question, “What genre is your manuscript?” is tossed out. The author tugs her collar and replies, “It’s a cross-genre, space opera, murder mystery with romantic suspense and a small salute to steampunk on the side.” Uh…say that again? Because just where the heck am I supposed to find that at the bookstore or online? What do I ask the salesclerk for? “Excuse me, Ms. Bookseller, but can you please direct me the section for authors who don’t know what they write?”
Don’t get me wrong — I’ve done it myself. I tried to classify my urban fantasy as a mouthful of maybes too. But in the end, I knew there had to be one section, one aisle, and one shelf on which to sell my book. It would have been immensely more helpful had I known specifically how to classify the book when I began to write, but I never gave it a thought. I wrote the story and figured the genre would be self-evident. Um. No.
When you sit down to write, knowing what you intend to produce is a major bonus. Yes, I just wrote that. No, I’m not using any illegal substances. Too often writers will look at a story and decide what they want it to be, not what it is. They look at publishing journals and sales trends and decide that their steampunk manuscript is best classified as dystopian YA because, man, that’s hot right now. This is a great way to have a manuscript auto-rejected when you query because it shows the agent(s) you’re approaching that you aren’t sure of your work. And if you can’t be sure of your work in a query letter, there’s a good chance you’re not sure of it in the body of the story either.
There’s an old saying I love: “Know thyself.” While this is true for you individually, it’s equally true for your manuscript. Having the ability to answer the person who asks what genre your manuscript is with simple yet confident language will lend credibility to your platform.
No matter how good a deal something seems, avoid the orangutan walk.
Foundations, Infestations and Rewriting It All
Published June 18, 2011 | 
We’ve been through a lot over the last week, discussing the 3 R’s: Reconsider, Revise, Rewrite. The madness began when we Reconsidered our manuscript, pulling out the best of our ideas and thinking about how to move into Revising those ideas to make them sound. Sure, we’ve sweated a hell of a lot little, but roll up your sleeves, my sweets, for the real work is about to begin with
Rewrites
Now’s the time to buckle down, bust out the note cards and begin to seriously put into practice the power of your creativity, knowledge, feedback and skill. The first two steps might be likened to building a foundation. If you’ve done your homework, you have graded, leveled and prepped the groundwork so that the fundamentals of your story are in place. What you do with your rewrite largely determines the outcome of your efforts. Think of it this way: you’ve put in the efforts to set your foundation well, right? With all that effort to set the foundation, you want to make sure that you stick to the blueprint and create a solid structure. Why short yourself now by building a house of cards?
With Raising Cain, I’ve not quite made it through to the rewrite stage. I’m closing in on it, though, and I’m going to outline my game plan for you so you can see how I intend to to do a little reconstruction amid a now-solid foundation. I have about 35 note cards with changes that have to be made. I have approximately 100 pages left to revise, so I’m estimating 50 note cards by the time it’s done. I will then sit down and organize the cards by act (I, II or III) and then by chapter.
The next step will be considering each card and either fleshing out the idea if an extensive rewrite is necessary, or creating solid check points to ensure that when I get to that card, I hit the change in a tight, concise manner. Leaving things halfway done is an invitation for an infestation of passive verbs, dangling participles, adverb abuse and more. I’m not having any of that crap, thanks. Raising Cain is too strong to consider cutting corners, and my readers deserve the best product I can turn out.
The next thing to do will be to realistically consider what I can expect. The hardest part for me is always, always, always killing my darlings. I have an absolute killer line I’ve had to remove because it really didn’t work where I had it. I put it in my cutouts file so I can try to find it a home in a future novel, but for now? It’s nixed. And it hurts. My expectation always starts somewhere around “Use every word!” and ends up slashing and hacking until poor little vowels and consonants litter the desktop, bleeding out their last breaths. My expectation and my reality generally duke it out, but my expectation is a lightweight compared to the heavyweight of reality. Bottom line? Use the words that are the best, the strongest, the tightest you can come up with. Force your expectations to fall in line or else put off the rewrite until you think you can make things come together.
I’ll knock out the rewrite over a few weeks, if I’m lucky, and things go well. This will leave me with a final revision-related read through to clean up anything that escaped the initial wounding. I’ll finish, let the story rest and–you guessed it–read it one more time. The final re-read is done sans red pen. I’m reading to make sure that the manuscript is clean, reads well and reflects my best efforts. If it doesn’t? It’s time to shelf the project and give it a minimum of one month to rest.
Make sure when you enter into rewrites that you go in with an organized plan. If you don’t, you’re really not doing your story, or you readers, justice. Taking the time to set that foundation and build a solid structure above means you’ve done more than many writers to ensure that what you provide to your agent, editor, publisher and readers are the very best representation of the true skill you possess.
Questions? Hit me!
Revisions in P (for Pain)
Published June 17, 2011 | 
We’ve been talking about the 3 R’s: Reconsider, Revise, Rewrite. I’ve been using my current manuscript, Raising Cain, as an example of how the 3 R’s can be applied to your own evaluation process for any manuscript you’ve completed. Tonight, I tackle the most painful of the R’s for me…
Revisions
So what are revisions, and how do you go about revising a manuscript? The word revision is defined as follows by www.dictionary.com : “to alter something already written or printed, in order to make corrections, improve, or update.” Revisions give you the chance to take that first draft and make it better.
With Raising Cain, I knew there were some plot points that weren’t sufficiently developed in the first draft. I broke out the note cards, wrote down some ideas (one per card) and started to re-read the manuscript. I didn’t change anything as I wrote unless it was a quick fix–spelling, grammar, continuity issue–because of what I call the Ripple Effect. When you change one fact, character action or reaction, or plot/sub-plot point, everything related to that change, before and after, has to agree with the revision. It’s like dropping a rock in a body of water and watching the ripples move out in every direction. Instead, I made notes on my note cards on the first read-through, then began to make changes with the second pass.
I’ve also just started using software designed for authors. I’m test-driving both Scrivener and WriteWayPro. They offer electronic versions of note cards, and I’m trying to learn to use those. I’ll have to do it with my next project, Vengeance, which is already underway. Raising Cain is on a deadline and I don’t want to risk messing anything up or missing my deadline because I was trying something new. Vengeance has a deadline that’s much farther out, so no worries there.
Regardless of the method(s) you choose to use, revisions are painful. You are (hopefully) utilizing critique partners and Beta readers who will be giving you strengths and weaknesses as well as tearing your own hard work to pieces. It hurts to know that your favorite line doesn’t really work in your favorite scene, or that your hero comes across as an arrogant ass and there’s no way your uber cool heroine would actually fall for him. The realities of revisions really suck, but the one true fact remains: YOU are the Puppet Master. YOU have the ability to take critiques and feedback to the table and revise your story so the glitches are worked out, the characters strong, and the suspension of disbelief sustained.
Remember, you’ve already proved you had the fortitude and determination necessary to complete your manuscript. As Rob Schneider said in The Water Boy, “You can do eet!”
Next post is R-3: The Rewrite
Not Every Idea Is a GOOD Idea
Published June 12, 2011 | 
During the last post, we talked about the 3 R’s: Reconsider, Revise, Rewrite. I promised we’d delve into the revision process a little more over the next few posts. Being a woman of my word, we’re going to do just that, starting with
RECONSIDER
I’ve been re-reading Raising Cain and, as thrilled as I am with the story, there are a few things I initially included that just don’t work. They seemed like a good idea at the time–just like bottling picante sauce for babies might have seemed like a good idea initially. But this, as well as one specific idea from Raising Cain, is proof that not every idea is a good idea.
The first of the 3 R’s, Reconsider, deals with the concept that not all ideas are good. In particular, it delves into the writer’s mind and forces her to re-read the manuscript and reconsider word choice, sentence order, paragraph placement, plot progression, character development, escalating tension, pacing, climax and resolution. So if you thought that the first R would be the easiest, you’ll find you were mistaken. It is my opinion that this first R is the most important because to make the next two R’s–Revise and Rewrite–successful, Reconsider must be thoroughly explored.
So how do you reconsider your manuscript? Every writer will have a method they consider effective to some degree. Here are the two I find I’m using faithfully:
AutoCrit
I was recently introduced to AutoCrit (www.autocrit.com), an online program that allows you to enter up to 100k words (depending on program purchased) of your manuscript. It will then evaluate your text for a wide range of problems. You can generate reports and have them emailed to you so you can print them out and use them as a rewrite tool. This is the BEST author resource I’ve ever used. It is incredibly simple to use, generates easy-to-understand and easy-to-implement recommendations and gives you a learning tool to boot.
Notecards
Note cards are also a very effective tool. They can be used in a variety of ways. I use them for filling holes and writing a synopsis. For filling holes, all I do is jot down ideas that are incomplete, character discrepancies, weak plot points, etc. while I’m going through my initial re-read. When I’m finished with the re-read, I go back and address the issue(s) on each card in order to make sure that all of the holes, weak spots, faulty logic, etc. are addressed in a revision/rewrite or by deleting inconsequential information.
For the synopsis, I assign each chapter a card and then write down the most important points of the chapter on the front, secondary plot points and interesting lines on the back. Later, I’ll use these cards to draft the synopsis. The front of the cards provide the bones and substance of the synopsis, the back of the cards the filler.
Scrivener
I’m looking forward to trying Scrivener for PC’s (until I get my Mac), but for now there are too many bugs the company, by their own admission, needs to work out. (This was true as of the last time I checked: 05/25/11. If they have the PC wobblies worked out, I’ll be adding Scrivener to my writer’s toolbox this week.)
The Other Stuff…
I’ve tried using color-coding systems, plotting systems, outlines, chapter outlines, chapter notes, chapter goals, and more. Nothing has worked for me as well as the two systems I currently use for the 3 R’s. When it comes to writing I’ll always be a pantser, and I’ve accepted that. But I’m finding a bit more structure serves me well when I begin to tackle the 3 R’s.
Stick around–the next post continues with our discussion of the 3 R’s.
(Note: I’m not affiliated with AutoCrit or Scrivener in any way, nor do the makers of any brand of note cards care what I do with them. Origami anyone?)
Take 2: Reconsider, Revise, Rewrite
Published June 7, 2011 | 
The first draft of Raising Cain was finished a week ago. I rejoiced, sent it out to critique partners and vowed to do this manuscript justice by allowing it to rest a bit before I revisited it and attempted to “see” the story with fresh eyes. I managed to last a week…almost…before I found myself peeking in on it, reading a sentence here or there, wondering if I’d remembered to address this topic or that and generally poking the sleeping tiger with a short stick. I am many things, but patient doesn’t make the list. This started me thinking on the revision process and what it means to revise a novel. This, in turn, led me to wonder how much revision is enough? And how much is too much? Even more important, when is a novel finished? Buckle up, Blogadeers! We’re about to tear apart revision’s three R’s:
Reconsider, Revise and Rewrite.
Revising a manuscript begins when a writer is ready to shift from Writer Mode to Revision Mode and reconsider the manuscript with objectivity and a lack of surface emotions. This can take 24 hours, a few days, weeks or even months. It’s different for every writer and for every story, and there’s no formula available that can calculate the perfect time to make that shift. I knew I was ready when I began to get responses from critique partners and, instead of overwhelming trepidation, I found myself juiced about looking at the manuscript through their eyes.
Critique partners and beta readers are as critical to the writing process as cocoa powder is to brownies. Without one or the other, why bother? A good critique partner can point out things that don’t work, awkward phrasing, grammar and punctuation problems and more. I have a couple of critique partners whom I wouldn’t trade for all the brownies in the world, and that should tell you just how important these people are to me, Blogadeers.
Some people consider beta readers the same as a critique partner, but I view them a little differently, though they are no less important. To me, a beta reader is someone who goes in and reads the story for the sole purpose of telling you whether it works or not. What went fast, what dragged on and on, who they loved and who they loved to hate. Beta readers to me are a representative group of an author’s audience, the same audience who will be reviewing your book. See why they’re so important?
My critique partners and beta readers are doing an amazing job, making me reconsider the weak points in the story, from ill-fitting words to a few awkward sentences. And with the reconsideration is born the need to revise. I dug out my handy note cards and began working on potential solutions last weekend. I’m thrilled to tell you it’s coming together quite nicely. I’m still waiting on some critiques, but I’m confident Raising Cain is evolving into a well-honed manuscript I’ll be proud to send to editors for consideration.
This is, however, jumping the gun. There’s work to be done yet. So over the next few posts, I’ll discuss the revision process and what it entails in a little more depth. Feel free to drop questions in the comment box or email me privately and I’ll address your questions in an upcoming post.
Perseverance, a Little Luck, and One Broken Ass
Published June 3, 2011 | 
It’s been a wild few days for me, but I’ve hit the jackpot. Raising Cain is finished. Finished! Ok, not finished, but the first revisions have been made, it’s out to betas with a wildly positive response that makes me a little lightheaded and the heroine and hero have me itching to write their next story. I’m anxious to see the Key Guardians series take shape and reach its potential. The story challenged me beyond belief, pushing and improving my writing skills, and making me see what I’m capable of creating. It took a great deal of perseverance to see the last period on the last page fall into place, humbling me and making me more than a little grateful that I managed to take the blows life dealt me four years ago and find a way to line my own cloud in silver.
I met with an industry insider this week whom I will call Xylophone. Why Xylophone? Mostly because I never get to use that word. She was freaking awesome for a thousand different reasons, not the least of which being she never once looked at her watch during our meeting. (Yes, Xylophone, I noticed.) But even more amazing was the gift Xylophone gave me, and she probably doesn’t even know she did it. She made me believe that I am truly and authentically an author. I left the meeting buoyed, my creative well refilled. What a gift!
I experienced a little luck when I won a Brenda Novak charity auction for a partial evaluation from Grand Central’s Executive Editor, Amy Pierpont. She edits a number of authors, including one of my absolute favorites, Larissa Ione. Yes, I died a small death when I won. I won’t admit to tears or booty shakes because it would be gauche, but there you have it. Infer what you will. I’ll be sending Raising Cain in with the sincerest hope Ms. Pierpont sees in it an ounce of potential and a pound of effort. Oh, and talent. If she thought I had talent? I’d die a second death much larger than the first.
I received the cover copy for my first novel, Legacy. It’s absolutely awesome! I can’t wait until I’m cleared to share it with you. It might be a while since there are still more than four months–long, agonizing months–until it releases, but when I get the green light you may rest assured the cover copy will be up on my website for your enjoyment. And who knows? Maybe an excerpt will follow.
I also had some awesome news in my inbox but I can’t share it yet. I’ll post next week when I can.
So it feels like I’ve been running in circles and getting nowhere while, at the very same time, making giant leaps and bounds of progress. In short, I’ve busted my ass to see good things happen, and now I’m exhausted and slightly concerned I may have broken said ass in the process. The good news? I think I’ve got a sling left over from my working days. I’m pleased to say I anticipate a full recovery.
What will I be doing between now and the end of next week? I’ll be drafting a cover letter and synopsis, working on Raising Cain with the goal of polishing it well enough to be seen from space, editing my cover copy, and waiting to share the good news. There may even be a blog post or two in there somewhere. Until then…
7 Things I Know As a Writer
Published June 2, 2011 | 
As a writer, I know there will be times when people won’t like what I write, how I write it, or how I end it. I can accept that. And while I typically expect detractors to have actually read my work before they take issue with it, I realize there are no guarantees.
As a writer, I know there will be times when ignorance takes issue with my work and chooses a public platform from which to issue its opinion(s). I can accept that. Unfortunately, there is no rule that says you must be fair in your attack-tics.
As a writer, I know that reviewers will not always like what I produce. I can accept this, even if they rate the book unfinishable by their own standards. My only hope is that they remember that everyone was new once and they temper their comments accordingly, not by withholding the truth of their opinion, but by choosing not to engage in hateful commentary.
As a writer, I know my current idea may not be as great as my last or as wide-reaching as my next. I can accept that. My only request is that you not hold against it what it might have been or what it could yet be, but rather see it for what it is in its own right.
As a writer, I know that agents and editors may reject me. I can accept that. Their opinion is valuable, but it does not define me as a writer. I am a writer because I write. No one’s opinion can make me stop writing except my own.
As a writer, I know there will be others who will be more proficient at the craft than I will ever be. I can accept that. I only hope that they choose to serve as my mentors and (hello, Larissa Ione) my heroes by behaving in a manner that makes them worthy of my adoration. If they don’t, I have no trouble pulling an about face and seeking out others whose behavior I’m proud to emulate.
As a writer, I know there will be other writers who look to me as a role model. I can accept that. I only hope I never let any level of success make me into the type of author I experienced, one who is willing to tear another down to lift himself up. My mantra will always be “Remember the kindness shown to you by some of the greats and pay it forward tenfold.”
As a writer, what do you know to be true?
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