A long, long time ago, a published author told me odds are, I won't be there when a reader picks up my book. I won't be standing beside them in the store. I won't be sitting next to them when they turn the first page. I won't be able to explain anything they don't understand.
This led to my first rule in accepting critiques: don't argue.
I will not argue with a crit partner when she brings up something that bothers her. I may ask more questions to get to the root of the problem, but I will not try to explain what I meant and leave it at that.
Because I won't have that chance with a reader.
If my meaning isn't clear, it's my fault. I'm the writer. I'm the one with something to say. It's up to me to say it as clearly as I know how.
It's true some people will never understand me. Not because of any lack on their part or my part but because our life experiences are so different we have no point of common ground on which to build. Those people will glance at my stories and move on. I'm OK with that. I suspect they are, too.
However, there is no reason for the vast majority of people, especially those people who would normally read my genre, to misunderstand me. My meaning should be clear, even if the meaning is "I'm not going to give you a definitive answer to that question."
TT: Be very careful how often you do that, btw. It irritates the snot out of people.
You've been warned. You won't be there. Write accordingly.
Showing posts with label TUTAW. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TUTAW. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Friday, August 6, 2010
TUTAW: Not Everyone Makes It
It's been a while since I wrote one of these. So long, I had to rack my brain to remember the meaning of the acrostic The Ugly Truth About Writing.
Nature gives us plenty of examples of "the survival of the fittest." Probably one of the reasons macro-evolution seems to work at first glance. Salmon, rabbits, sperm...whales. Just kidding. I meant sperm. In fact, almost everything that exists does so in large numbers because life is hard and things die in all manner of ways. I've figured out rabbits are the popcorn of the wild kingdom. Not terribly filling unless you eat two or three buckets' worth. Poor little bunnies.
The concept applies to people, too. Not that we're getting eaten, but that in any given situation very few "make it." Not every good sports' player makes it into the professional world. Not every job applicant gets hired. Not every writer gets published.
Nowadays, the odds of getting published are better in some ways and worse in others. Someone determined to see his name in print can always self-publish. The Internet has opened up a whole new way to connect with that niche market you want to reach. According to...oh, what's his name...Seth Godin? you only need a certain number of devoted fans to maintain you. The trick is keeping them happy enough to remain devoted.
However, the same Internet that opens possibilities to you opens them to others. More people than ever may dream of publication, and now they can submit as easily as you can. The market is flooded with baby writers looking for a break.
Of course, I'm speaking of people determined to get published. I haven't taken into account writing skill, storyline, marketable audience, or any other factor.
The fact is, you can be a fabulous writer with a great book, but if you never submit, you can't be published. And I've read enough horrible books to wonder how many of the authors are related to the publisher or sleeping with the editor. There is no other explanation for how they got printed.
I've become convinced of two things.
First, getting published requires perseverance. P.A. Baines of The New Authors' Fellowship is a perfect example. The man has written for 14 years (if I remember correctly) and is finally getting his first book Alpha Redemption published by Splashdown Books. Congrats on that, P.A. He persevered and soon he'll be a published author. The hard part will be Book II. Good luck with that.
Second, sometimes it doesn't. We've all heard about the lady who tells her book idea to the guy in the elevator who ends up being the head of a major publishing company and she gets published without even sending a query letter. Hey, it's the exceptions that prove the rule, right? Don't assume that'll be you, though, even if you spend your free time loitering in the elevator at major publishing companies.
Fact is, most of us who write will never get published. We'll get eaten by something along the way, even if it's only our own indolence.
But that's how it is. As Tom Hanks said in A League of Their Own: "Of course it's hard. If it was easy, everyone would do it."
Frankly, I'd rather see the prize go to someone who worked for it than someone who happened to be in the right place at the right time. But I'm funny that way.
Nature gives us plenty of examples of "the survival of the fittest." Probably one of the reasons macro-evolution seems to work at first glance. Salmon, rabbits, sperm...whales. Just kidding. I meant sperm. In fact, almost everything that exists does so in large numbers because life is hard and things die in all manner of ways. I've figured out rabbits are the popcorn of the wild kingdom. Not terribly filling unless you eat two or three buckets' worth. Poor little bunnies.
The concept applies to people, too. Not that we're getting eaten, but that in any given situation very few "make it." Not every good sports' player makes it into the professional world. Not every job applicant gets hired. Not every writer gets published.
Nowadays, the odds of getting published are better in some ways and worse in others. Someone determined to see his name in print can always self-publish. The Internet has opened up a whole new way to connect with that niche market you want to reach. According to...oh, what's his name...Seth Godin? you only need a certain number of devoted fans to maintain you. The trick is keeping them happy enough to remain devoted.
However, the same Internet that opens possibilities to you opens them to others. More people than ever may dream of publication, and now they can submit as easily as you can. The market is flooded with baby writers looking for a break.
Of course, I'm speaking of people determined to get published. I haven't taken into account writing skill, storyline, marketable audience, or any other factor.
The fact is, you can be a fabulous writer with a great book, but if you never submit, you can't be published. And I've read enough horrible books to wonder how many of the authors are related to the publisher or sleeping with the editor. There is no other explanation for how they got printed.
I've become convinced of two things.
First, getting published requires perseverance. P.A. Baines of The New Authors' Fellowship is a perfect example. The man has written for 14 years (if I remember correctly) and is finally getting his first book Alpha Redemption published by Splashdown Books. Congrats on that, P.A. He persevered and soon he'll be a published author. The hard part will be Book II. Good luck with that.
Second, sometimes it doesn't. We've all heard about the lady who tells her book idea to the guy in the elevator who ends up being the head of a major publishing company and she gets published without even sending a query letter. Hey, it's the exceptions that prove the rule, right? Don't assume that'll be you, though, even if you spend your free time loitering in the elevator at major publishing companies.
Fact is, most of us who write will never get published. We'll get eaten by something along the way, even if it's only our own indolence.
But that's how it is. As Tom Hanks said in A League of Their Own: "Of course it's hard. If it was easy, everyone would do it."
Frankly, I'd rather see the prize go to someone who worked for it than someone who happened to be in the right place at the right time. But I'm funny that way.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
TUTAW: One Book
The Ugly Truth About Writing is...some authors only write one book.
I don't mean one book in quantity, although plenty of authors do that. I mean one book in essence.
A few secular examples: Barbara Cartland (fragile, penniless waif with heart-shaped face and huge eyes is rescued by brawny, impeccably-dressed millionaire), Piers Anthony (coming of age story for a boy or girl whatever), and Anne McCaffrey (young person with musical ability and some extraordinary talent must beat the odds to become the best dragon-rider, crystal singer, psionic, you fill in the blank). All three are prolific authors who write basically one book with variations.
Don't get me wrong. I have and love various books by each of these authors. Maybe not Barbara Cartland so much, but her books are like popcorn. Finished in an hour or two and you can still eat dinner. And, I think I own more books by Anne McCaffrey than any other author I read. She's certainly one of my biggest influences. I owe my tendency to link my worlds to her. I believe every book she's ever written involves the same universe in different chronology.
Even Barbara Hambly, one of my favorite authors, writes basically the same book. A stick-like warrior woman and a gangly wizard who doesn't actually use his magic fight some kind of all-powerful evil thing using sheer stubbornness and plodding methodology. I like her because she uses words I don't know and every once in a while, usually once per book, writes a sentence that grabs my heart and sticks in my brain.
Let's examine C.S. Lewis's Narnia series. Those books are nothing alike, except that they take place, for the most part, in Narnia and Aslan shows up in all of them. I cannot say I like all the Narnia books equally, but that is not a bad thing, either. Lewis wrote more than one book, in essence as well as quantity.
And me? I want to think my books will be different. Now that I've started book 3 in a completely different series and genre than the other two, I'm not so sure. Two out of three begin with loners (although loners for different reasons), two out of three include tall, black, bald women warriors (I have no idea how that happened unless I blame Grace Jones in Conan the Destroyer), three out of three feature a mentor, and three out of three involve abandonment issues by parents or guardians. To quote Malcolm Reynolds from Firefly: "Huh."
On the other hand, if I can sell as many books as any of the authors I've listed, I'm totally okay with writing only one book. As long as it's a book people want to read.
I don't mean one book in quantity, although plenty of authors do that. I mean one book in essence.
A few secular examples: Barbara Cartland (fragile, penniless waif with heart-shaped face and huge eyes is rescued by brawny, impeccably-dressed millionaire), Piers Anthony (coming of age story for a boy or girl whatever), and Anne McCaffrey (young person with musical ability and some extraordinary talent must beat the odds to become the best dragon-rider, crystal singer, psionic, you fill in the blank). All three are prolific authors who write basically one book with variations.
Don't get me wrong. I have and love various books by each of these authors. Maybe not Barbara Cartland so much, but her books are like popcorn. Finished in an hour or two and you can still eat dinner. And, I think I own more books by Anne McCaffrey than any other author I read. She's certainly one of my biggest influences. I owe my tendency to link my worlds to her. I believe every book she's ever written involves the same universe in different chronology.
Even Barbara Hambly, one of my favorite authors, writes basically the same book. A stick-like warrior woman and a gangly wizard who doesn't actually use his magic fight some kind of all-powerful evil thing using sheer stubbornness and plodding methodology. I like her because she uses words I don't know and every once in a while, usually once per book, writes a sentence that grabs my heart and sticks in my brain.
Let's examine C.S. Lewis's Narnia series. Those books are nothing alike, except that they take place, for the most part, in Narnia and Aslan shows up in all of them. I cannot say I like all the Narnia books equally, but that is not a bad thing, either. Lewis wrote more than one book, in essence as well as quantity.
And me? I want to think my books will be different. Now that I've started book 3 in a completely different series and genre than the other two, I'm not so sure. Two out of three begin with loners (although loners for different reasons), two out of three include tall, black, bald women warriors (I have no idea how that happened unless I blame Grace Jones in Conan the Destroyer), three out of three feature a mentor, and three out of three involve abandonment issues by parents or guardians. To quote Malcolm Reynolds from Firefly: "Huh."
On the other hand, if I can sell as many books as any of the authors I've listed, I'm totally okay with writing only one book. As long as it's a book people want to read.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
TUTAW: Rejection
The Ugly Truth About Writing is...rejection happens.
We all know this. When you put yourself out there, odds are you will be rejected. Even more true about writing.
You write a story. Or not. Some people have an idea first and wait to write until they have a backer. This is a good use of time, but I'd rather just write the book and worry about publishing later.
So here's this story. You think it's good. You think other people will think it's good. You do some research (hopefully. otherwise you will waste a lot of money) and pick a publisher you think will like your story. Actually, you pick a publisher who publishes stories like your story. The difference between those two sentences is the emotional meaning you will attach to their response.
You submit your story, following all the guidelines the publisher requests. You wait. You do whatever it is you do while you wait (don't bother the publisher!). I try to keep my mind on something else.
Your response arrives. It has probably changed, but back when I regularly attended conferences, it was your manuscript returned in a SASE (self-addressed stamped envelop) and a pink rejection slip. The slip is very polite, and states something like "We have reviewed your manuscript, and it does not fit our current needs. Thank you for contacting us." A polite brush-off.
You can be crushed. It's OK. It's not helpful, but it is natural. Even I would be a little dented.
Here's the problem. That slip doesn't tell you anything. It may be saying they are too busy to actually read your story. Or, they have so many submissions already they can't produce one more right now. Or, your story really doesn't fit their needs (meaning you didn't research your market well enough). Or, the editor (likely junior) who read it just didn't like it that day.
See? All kinds of reasons. None of them are personal.
It is possible the editor hates you. If you went to conference, met her and annoyed her, it's possible. If you call her twice a day for a month and ask if she's read your manuscript, it's likely. Don't do that, by the way. The editors I work for won't talk to anyone who "bothers" them about a press release (with certain exceptions, except none of those will apply to you and your publisher, believe me).
So, the rejection isn't personal. It doesn't stop it from hurting.
The Marcher Lord Select contest is an editorial review by other authors and potential readers instead of one editor. However, this doesn't mean that losing the contest assures none of these people would like my book if they read it.
The contest is set up with a lot of hoops to make conditions as fair as possible. I support this whole-heartedly. It is not fair for one person with a lot of friends to win just because they can rouse more support from people they know.
On the other hand, the audience itself is people who know about the contest; i.e., potential authors and readers who are Internet users. MLP books are sold on the Internet, not stores. These people are nerds and geeks (my own kind) but they are not the only nerds and geeks in the world.
Plus, the length of the contest itself and the commitment involved in following it through to the end may create conditions where the final voting is done by only a handful of people. As I read the comments, I'm seeing about 10-20 people currently active in the process. Will more vote? I hope so, but I don't know.
I want to win. I'm in it to win. I may not. Some of these books sound pretty good, and they seem to be touching nerves with this audience. I think that's great. I'm astounded to learn there are people in the world as weird as I am, and that we have a place to gather. That knowledge alone makes all this worthwhile. Even if I lose the contest, I am not barred from resubmitting my story to MLP. It will just take longer to get published (see? Optimism!).
Rejection happens. It is a fact. I try very hard not to connect it to my sense of self-worth. For the most part, I succeed.
It seems I may have sounded a little depressed and possibly suicidal in yesterday's post. Please believe, I am fine. Fear gives way to resignation for me. Whatever happens now is God's will. I'm just looking for the teachable moments. And I'm looking forward to seeing who wins.
It may be a book I wouldn't want to read. ;)
We all know this. When you put yourself out there, odds are you will be rejected. Even more true about writing.
You write a story. Or not. Some people have an idea first and wait to write until they have a backer. This is a good use of time, but I'd rather just write the book and worry about publishing later.
So here's this story. You think it's good. You think other people will think it's good. You do some research (hopefully. otherwise you will waste a lot of money) and pick a publisher you think will like your story. Actually, you pick a publisher who publishes stories like your story. The difference between those two sentences is the emotional meaning you will attach to their response.
You submit your story, following all the guidelines the publisher requests. You wait. You do whatever it is you do while you wait (don't bother the publisher!). I try to keep my mind on something else.
Your response arrives. It has probably changed, but back when I regularly attended conferences, it was your manuscript returned in a SASE (self-addressed stamped envelop) and a pink rejection slip. The slip is very polite, and states something like "We have reviewed your manuscript, and it does not fit our current needs. Thank you for contacting us." A polite brush-off.
You can be crushed. It's OK. It's not helpful, but it is natural. Even I would be a little dented.
Here's the problem. That slip doesn't tell you anything. It may be saying they are too busy to actually read your story. Or, they have so many submissions already they can't produce one more right now. Or, your story really doesn't fit their needs (meaning you didn't research your market well enough). Or, the editor (likely junior) who read it just didn't like it that day.
See? All kinds of reasons. None of them are personal.
It is possible the editor hates you. If you went to conference, met her and annoyed her, it's possible. If you call her twice a day for a month and ask if she's read your manuscript, it's likely. Don't do that, by the way. The editors I work for won't talk to anyone who "bothers" them about a press release (with certain exceptions, except none of those will apply to you and your publisher, believe me).
So, the rejection isn't personal. It doesn't stop it from hurting.
The Marcher Lord Select contest is an editorial review by other authors and potential readers instead of one editor. However, this doesn't mean that losing the contest assures none of these people would like my book if they read it.
The contest is set up with a lot of hoops to make conditions as fair as possible. I support this whole-heartedly. It is not fair for one person with a lot of friends to win just because they can rouse more support from people they know.
On the other hand, the audience itself is people who know about the contest; i.e., potential authors and readers who are Internet users. MLP books are sold on the Internet, not stores. These people are nerds and geeks (my own kind) but they are not the only nerds and geeks in the world.
Plus, the length of the contest itself and the commitment involved in following it through to the end may create conditions where the final voting is done by only a handful of people. As I read the comments, I'm seeing about 10-20 people currently active in the process. Will more vote? I hope so, but I don't know.
I want to win. I'm in it to win. I may not. Some of these books sound pretty good, and they seem to be touching nerves with this audience. I think that's great. I'm astounded to learn there are people in the world as weird as I am, and that we have a place to gather. That knowledge alone makes all this worthwhile. Even if I lose the contest, I am not barred from resubmitting my story to MLP. It will just take longer to get published (see? Optimism!).
Rejection happens. It is a fact. I try very hard not to connect it to my sense of self-worth. For the most part, I succeed.
It seems I may have sounded a little depressed and possibly suicidal in yesterday's post. Please believe, I am fine. Fear gives way to resignation for me. Whatever happens now is God's will. I'm just looking for the teachable moments. And I'm looking forward to seeing who wins.
It may be a book I wouldn't want to read. ;)
Thursday, October 8, 2009
The Ugly Truth About Writing: Clarity
Ugly truths are everywhere, even in writing. This may be the first of a series.
Writing is first and foremost communication between humans. To my knowledge, we haven't found another species yet that communicates through the written word. I don't think even Coco the gorilla can read. I may be wrong about that.
If you pause to consider, any attempt to transfer thoughts from one being to another is somewhat amazing. How is it possible that the structures in my head could ever mirror the structures in yours? Forget about telepathy. I mean simple concepts like "I'm hungry" or "that's red." Think of a poem or a song that means something to you. How was that writer able to string together a line of words that not only conveyed thoughts but meaning and emotion? Truly amazing.
The ugly truth is clarity falls on the shoulders of the writer. If you are not clear - in your goal, your words and your structure - your reader will never share your thoughts. You the writer will not be physically present in the room when your reader is puzzling over what you're trying to say. You will not have the chance to explain yourself if you miss it the first time. If you are not focused from the outset, your reader will be as confused as you are.
If you're a high school student writing a term paper you may not care whether your reader is confused. If you're a lawmaker in Washington, you're hoping to confuse people. If you're anyone else, writing anything else, clarity is vital.
This is why a critique/support group is a valuable tool. Having another human read your writing and tell you what they learned lets you know if you were clear in your presentation. Not every person will understand you (this is why books come in genres), but you should be able to get your point across to the majority.
This is where you must remind yourself that writing is a skill. Getting defensive is not useful. Improving your written clarity is. I confess I still have some trouble with this, but generally, I'm pretty thick-skinned when it comes to criticism of my writing. If my writing improves as a result, it was worth it, no matter how painful. You must learn to separate your worth as a writer from your written product. Mary DeMuth calls it being thick-skinned and tender-hearted.
Yes, you slaved over those words. Yes, in your mind, you said exactly what you wanted to say. However, if the reader doesn't get it, your writing failed her. You haven't failed. Your skill did. Skill can be improved; in fact, must be improved, or no one will bother to pick up that second piece of writing.
I started this blog last month, but this is not the first time I have written. I have been writing for one reason or another for most of my life. My skill has improved with time and practice. I am not perfect, as I think I have been quick to point out in this forum, but I aim for perfection. I aim for clarity.
When I miss, it's because I don't know what I'm trying to say.
The point: know what you want to say, and use all your writing skill to say it clearly.
Your reader will thank you for it.
Writing is first and foremost communication between humans. To my knowledge, we haven't found another species yet that communicates through the written word. I don't think even Coco the gorilla can read. I may be wrong about that.
If you pause to consider, any attempt to transfer thoughts from one being to another is somewhat amazing. How is it possible that the structures in my head could ever mirror the structures in yours? Forget about telepathy. I mean simple concepts like "I'm hungry" or "that's red." Think of a poem or a song that means something to you. How was that writer able to string together a line of words that not only conveyed thoughts but meaning and emotion? Truly amazing.
The ugly truth is clarity falls on the shoulders of the writer. If you are not clear - in your goal, your words and your structure - your reader will never share your thoughts. You the writer will not be physically present in the room when your reader is puzzling over what you're trying to say. You will not have the chance to explain yourself if you miss it the first time. If you are not focused from the outset, your reader will be as confused as you are.
If you're a high school student writing a term paper you may not care whether your reader is confused. If you're a lawmaker in Washington, you're hoping to confuse people. If you're anyone else, writing anything else, clarity is vital.
This is why a critique/support group is a valuable tool. Having another human read your writing and tell you what they learned lets you know if you were clear in your presentation. Not every person will understand you (this is why books come in genres), but you should be able to get your point across to the majority.
This is where you must remind yourself that writing is a skill. Getting defensive is not useful. Improving your written clarity is. I confess I still have some trouble with this, but generally, I'm pretty thick-skinned when it comes to criticism of my writing. If my writing improves as a result, it was worth it, no matter how painful. You must learn to separate your worth as a writer from your written product. Mary DeMuth calls it being thick-skinned and tender-hearted.
Yes, you slaved over those words. Yes, in your mind, you said exactly what you wanted to say. However, if the reader doesn't get it, your writing failed her. You haven't failed. Your skill did. Skill can be improved; in fact, must be improved, or no one will bother to pick up that second piece of writing.
I started this blog last month, but this is not the first time I have written. I have been writing for one reason or another for most of my life. My skill has improved with time and practice. I am not perfect, as I think I have been quick to point out in this forum, but I aim for perfection. I aim for clarity.
When I miss, it's because I don't know what I'm trying to say.
The point: know what you want to say, and use all your writing skill to say it clearly.
Your reader will thank you for it.
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