A Writer's Life

A popular post from March 2012

By Julie Wright

I've been doing a load of school assemblies lately with the release of the second book in the Hazzardous Universe series, and I play a writing game with the kids to help them understand the basic elements of a story. I take them through the many joys of What If.

The things kids come up with are totally awesome, and I have loved being able to speak to schools almost as much as I love writing itself, but last week a friend of mine said the words, What if . . . and followed them up with a sobering thought.

She said, "What if this is as good as it gets?" This was in reference to our writing careers.

My personal journey as a writer was:

• As soon as I get that first contract--then I'll be happy.
• As soon as I see my name on a book jacket--then I'll be happy.
• As soon as I get on a best seller's list--then I'll be happy.
• As soon as I win an award--then I'll be happy.
• As soon as I get an agent--then I'll be happy.
• As soon as I get published in this new market--then I'll be happy. No wait!
• As soon as I get published in THAT new market.

When I signed with my agent, Jeff Savage took me aside and said, "I know you're thrilled right now. I know this moment is huge--and it should be. But I want you to remember to let it be huge. Don't be looking forward to the film options and foreign sales and then get disappointed if they don't come immediately. Live in the moment right now, and don't let discouragement get in."
I only half listened, because I knew my awesome agent would sell my book to one of the big six for a seven figure deal within the month. Two months later, his words sank in. Things didn't happen exactly the way I wanted. Not that bad things happened. I've had two books come out in the last few months and am furiously writing on three new books. But the events weren't exactly as I'd pictured them in my mind.
I've spent a lot of time in the place of, "Well, when THIS happens--THEN I will be happy." I allowed depressions to kick in so hard that I retreated emotionally from my family, my friends, and in many ways from myself.
If this is as good as it gets, and I am still waiting for some enigmatic event to happen to make me happy, does that mean I will never be happy?
Like I said . . . a sobering thought. There are a million reasons standing in our lives TODAY to be happy. We all have families, friends, life around us. What a tragedy if we miss it because we're waiting for some life defining event that we can't guarantee will come. I was so worried about writing life, I forgot to live.
I have a great career. I am fortunate to find success in traditional publishing, and I know it. But this last year has taught me that if this is as good as it gets . . . I am incredibly glad for what it is RIGHT NOW.
And that is enough.
Live in today, my fellow writers. Live and be happy right now.

Hooking (And of Course I'm Talking About Books!)

A popular post from April 2012. 

By Julie Wright

I have a manuscript I've been working on that is a zillion shades of totally awesome. The characters are fleshed out. The plot is compelling and fresh. The dialogue is believable. The title makes me grin every time I think about it. Everything sings in this manuscript. But it isn't ready to submit. Not a chance.

Because while the rest of the manuscript might be singing, the opening is doing something closer to croaking. It isn't that the opening isn't interesting. It isn't that the writing is bad. But the opening doesn't hook the reader. It doesn't compel them forward to the rest of the page. It doesn't compel them to turn the page, or the page after that, or the page after that.

A hook in your opening is totally necessary. Think of Dan Brown's DaVinci Code. The first paragraph has the curator to the Louvre museum lunging at a masterpiece painting and yanking it off the wall. This is not typical curator behavior--especially at one of the world's most famous museums. The opening paragraph makes the reader wonder, "What is this lunatic guy doing?" It compels them to read more because they want their question answered.

There are lots of different kinds of hooks, but they all have something in common. They all promise something to the reader. And that promise is what carries them to the rest of the book.

My story starts with a girl snapping a rabbit's neck. This isn't exactly a bad opening, but the way I'd written it is filled with exposition, introspection, and a lot of other things that weigh the story down and give it kind of a "meh" sort of feeling. It isn't anything that makes the reader sit up and say, "I have got to find out what happens next!" I can't submit until I find a better opening hook.

An interesting thing about hooks is that you can place them in more than just one spot. My friend, James Dashner, likes to place a hook at the bottom of every page so the reader feels compelled to turn the page. He also puts them at the end of every chapter--a place where a lot of people feel comfortable putting a book down so they can go do something else. James puts that hook there so it's almost impossible for a reader to choose to put the book down. J. Scott Savage does the same thing. So does Dan Wells. Those mini hooks throughout the book carry the reader all the way to the end in one sitting (or two if they just can't help it, but they aren't happy about putting the book down). Hooks used well bring a level of greatness to a novel. It creates its own buzz among readers. Everyone loves talking about the book they simply could not put down.

Opening hooks work best when:

• A change has just occurred or is about to occur in a character's life.

ie: He wasn't coming home.

Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested.

• A specific description or identifying statement that feels like it reveals a person or setting, and promises conflict to come.

ie: After twenty three years, four months, and eleven days of being John Phillip's secretary, I stomped my bear-clawed slippered feet into Nesbitt Law offices that morning, my hair curlers bouncing against my forehead with every step. And then, after standing in the pristine office for all of four seconds, I stormed his personal office, ripped open the file cabinet, and sent all of his important documents on the Pratt case through the shredder.
Hap Hazzard didn't believe in ghosts, but he was afraid of them.

• A general abstract statement that isn't necessarily tied to anything, but that sparks interest.

ie: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.

Scientists say that the brain chemistry of infatuation is akin to mental illness--which gives new meaning to "madly in love."

• A juxtaposition that doesn't fit.

ie: It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

Clocks don't strike thirteen. That's interesting and doesn't fit. This would also be the curator yanking paintings off a wall. His actions don't fit the persona of a museum curator. Or a newspaper reporter doing an interview with a vampire. Vampire interviews aren't the first thing a rational person thinks of when considering who a reporter could interview.
The point of any book opening hook is to garner enough interest in the reader to make them keep reading. The point of the little hooks placed throughout the book is to keep them reading to the end.
So I am off to write a better opening for my new novel. I wish you well in the hook you'll be using for yours.

Darkest Before the Dawn?

A popular post from February 2010

A friend of mine, J. Scott Savage, is doing a class on writing at a conference. I'm not exactly sure what his class will contain, but knowing him, the class will be twenty shades of amazing. I have an inkling of what he might say at this class because he posed a question to our online writer's group. The question was, "Could any of you who found success at the brink of giving up on writing e-mail me personally with your story or respond to the list?"

Finding success on the brink of giving up . . .

I know a lot of authors who've found success at nearly the same moment they decided to give up. Because at the same time they've given up, they also decided to give it one last push, to take one last step, to try one more time.

It's a strange place to be when you know you write well, you know you have talent, you've workshopped your manuscript and edited the thing until you could almost see your reflection in its polished shine, you know your story is sound, and yet the rejection letters keep rolling in. It's almost enough to make a writer more crazy than writers are prone to be naturally. It's almost enough to make us give up.

Madeleine L’Engle decided she was done writing. She had a couple of books published and then went nearly a decade of rejection after rejection. Throughout her thirties, no one seemed to want to publish what she wrote. She covered her typewriter and walked away in a huge show of renunciation. She wrung her hands and paced in circles and cried over her lost career. As she paced and cried, she realized that she already had a plot forming of a woman on the brink of giving up, but the story arc would be that the woman DIDN’T give up and finally succeeded. She realized that even the act of quitting brought plots and characters to her. She realized this wasn’t something she could just walk away from. She uncovered her typewriter, and went back to work. A couple of years later, she won the Newbery for A Wrinkle In Time.

Jessica Day George had many rejections. She had been to countless conferences and writing retreats and editor meetings in her attempts to break into a seemingly impossible market. The last conference she attended before getting a contract, she’d decided she’d had it. She told her husband that she was done—no more. He told her she had to finish the conference she was at because they’d already paid for it. The next day at the conference, she was at a critique group. Someone whispered over to her that they liked hers best and would she be interested in attending a by-invitation-only editor retreat. At that retreat, Jessica’s editor offered her a contract. Jessica had said that she was done and she’d meant it. She felt finished competing in a market she *knew* she was good enough to be part of, but that rejected her at every turn. If she hadn’t gone back to that conference, she wouldn’t have been invited to the editor’s retreat. If she hadn’t been at that retreat, she would have never been offered the contract that gave the rest of the world Jessica Day George. Jessica's newest book, Princess of Glass, comes out in May and is available for pre-order on Amazon.

For myself, it does seem that every time I think I’m done, something happens—even if it’s a little something. I think I’m done—I can’t go further in this maddening career choice, and I get a request for a partial manuscript. I think I’m done and I get a request for a full. I think I’m done and an agent says she’d like me to sign a contract. I think I’m done and my local publisher says they want another book. I think I’m done and SOMETHING happens to keep me in the game. Something happens that makes it impossible for me to walk away. And I finally realized that, like Madeleine, the stories won’t leave me alone just because I walk away from the computer. They’ll still be there, waiting for me to write them.

And *what if* the day you decide to quit, what if THAT day is like Jessica’s day—where there is only one more step to take to make it to the finish line?

You know you're good enough to compete, you've worked your manuscript, you've taken the pains and efforts to really learn how to write, you know you're good enough to play in the big sandbox called the national market. You just have to take one more step.

Well? What are you waiting for?

If anyone else has darkest before the dawn stories, feel free to leave them in the comments. We'd love to hear them.

Becoming Emotionally Involved

A popular post from April 2010

By Julie Wright

Some people tell me they don’t read fiction because they get nothing out of it, but if they aren’t getting anything out of it, they aren’t reading the right books. I read for the emotional experience and there is lots of emotion to be found in fiction—at least . . . there is lots of emotion to be found in good fiction.

The emotion readers get from a book (and this absolutely goes for non-fiction as well) is what stays with them, and is the most important byproduct of your writing. It is what will keep them looking for your books. If your readers don't feel much of anything, that lack of emotion will make them forget you. They definitely won’t be looking for your next book, and they definitely won’t be recommending your book to anyone else. Ultimately readers have to care.

My good friend and mentor Jeff Savage, teaches that you should always come to the scene late and leave the scene early. So basically he’s saying you should come to the scene when there is some action going on. Action doesn’t necessarily mean a fight scene or a battle, action means your characters are doing something. Your opening scene needs to introduce characters and make us care about them. you do not want your readers thinking, "And why do I care about this?"

It's a good idea for writers to pay attention to the emotion they want the readers to feel. what do you want the reader to feel in the beginning? What do you want them to feel for each specific scene? what do you want them to feel when they shut your book at the very end?

My best advice to authors looking to infuse emotion into their writing is to write from the heart. Write what you are passionate about. If you aren’t passionate about your story, you end up with a manuscript that lacks emotion, or is dissatisfying because of unfulfilled emotion, or the wrong emotion. Write from the heart.

If you are madly in love with your hero, your reader will be too. If you really hate your antagonist, your reader will too. If you have a hard time shutting out the lights to go to bed after a night of writing because you know those monsters in your pages are looking for a way out, your reader will too.

Because the question you must ask yourself, as a writer, is: Why do I care? And if you find you don’t, your reader doesn’t either.

Loving What You Do

 A popular post from January 2011.

by Julie Wright

I'm currently working on book two of a science fiction series for the middle grade market. Book one of the Hazzardous Universe Series releases March 01, 2011. I want to make sure book two is ready to go so I'm cranking it out now (which is why I've been pretty silent on blogs lately). Yesterday, I researched comets, the conversion of water, oxygen, and nitrogen from rocks, and the various forms of ballet-styled dancing throughout the various peoples of Earth. I also figured out the wickedest-awesomest-coolest way ever to make dragons feasible.

Dragons are a sore point with me. Their eating habits alone make them unlikely for natural selection on any planet. And yet they are so many shades of cool that it's hard to write for the children's market and not want to put a dragon in the story somewhere.

I've never used a dragon in a story. I just couldn't make myself buy into the fantasy of their existence enough to pen one into a novel. I love dragons--love the idea of them, but there are too many rational reasons as to why dragons *can't* exist for me to ever give myself over to them--until yesterday. In my new novel, there be dragons!

I am danged excited about my dragons. I'm danged excited about comets and space dust and solar winds and the magnetic structure of planets. I am excited to learn how to make life on a comet at least semi-plausible.

I am excited that my characters are going places that are awesome.

In short--I'm excited to be writing--which is exactly how it's supposed to be. A long time ago, I wrote a post about keeping it fun. I'd lost my way when it came to fun and writing. I was working too hard to please publishers and critics. I'd forgotten the joy there is creating something that is awesome to ME. A friend of mine, Jeff Savage, told me the biggest reason for all the frustration I'd felt in writing was due to the fact that I wasn't having fun anymore. He was right. I re-evaluated my goals, and wrote something I wanted to write.

And rediscovered myself in the process.

There are a lot of people out there in the literary world to please. There are people who won't like what you like, people who hate your genre, your character, your method.

And while I think it's important to please YOUR audience of readers. I don't think it's important to please EVERY audience of readers. It's been years since Jeff reminded me to have fun, and I haven't ever forgotten to keep that fun in my heart.

Love what you do. Love what you write. If you are loving it, then you've succeeded--no matter what else happens.

Top Ten Query Letter Mistakes

By Julie Wright

I went to lunch with one of my favorite authors last week, J. Scott Savage. Going to lunch with him is like being put on a battery charger. I always leave him feeling better about myself and the things I want to accomplish in my life. He made a comment that bears repeating:

If you succeed at everything you do, you probably aren't trying challenging enough things.

I concede the point, Mr. Savage. And this should feel like good news to those of us who are consistently tackling mountains. At least we know we aren't complacent.

Writer's Digest did a top ten list on query letter mistakes. I read through the list and got a few chuckles from it, wiped my brow in relief that I never have made any of those mistakes, and then wondered if they got the list right. While they are dead on with some of them, there were other mistakes that weren't mentioned that certainly deserve mentioning. So I made my own list. I borrowed a couple from theirs which I will note with a asterisk so you know where I blatantly plagiarized.

1. Beauty is only skin deep: you wrote your query but have a coffee cup stain on the paper, or you printed it out on paper that smells like day old soup. Or if you sent an e-query, your formatting gets lost on the way to the agent's computer and now looks like a jumbled mess, or your signature line has a cheesy picture of your cat in it. Remember the importance of first impressions. The moment they look at your query, you want their first impression to be good. You don't want them remembering you as the author whose query smells like soup.

2. Thy humble servant: I know it seems like it a good idea to confess your lack of experience but agents and editors don't want to know that you have no idea what you're doing even if you do think humility might win you brownie points. If you have no publishing credits, fine, but don't write things like, "This is my first book ever and though I don't have any publishing credits, I'm really hoping you'll give me a chance." Be confident. You wrote a book! You should feel accomplished.

3. Cut the cheese: I'm not talking about passing gas here, I'm talking about literally cutting the cheesy stuff out of your query letters. Don't spray your pink query letter paper with perfume. Refrain from cutesy statements, but let your personality shine. I know that seems contrary, but it is a balancing act and can be done successfully if you are careful not to put in too much information. Don't be chummy, don't be cutesy, don't be cheesy.

4. Say it isn't so: If you have a friend who's an author who might endorse your book, but who hasn't actually agreed to endorse your book, don't mention it in your query letter. If you are querying an agent and mention that an editor from some big publishing house has expressed an interest in the manuscript, you had better be telling the truth. The publishing industry is small and you'd be surprised at how everyone seems to know everyone else. Don't fib to make yourself look better.

5. Flattery will get you everywhere: It seems like a great idea to flatter, butter up, or schmooze an agent or editor, but there is a wrong and right way to go about connecting with the person you're writing to. Know their real names and their real genders. Don't assume an agent named Chris is a guy. Chris could be short for Christine. If you want to impress them, then prove you did your homework by knowing their name, their client list, the things they are specifically looking for right now. That is far more flattering than saying, "I think you are totally awesome and know we will be the very best of friends!" Editors and agents aren't looking for a BFF. They are looking for writers.

6. You aren't the only fish in the sea: Do not tell an agent that you have also queried twenty other agents. Don't send them snarky replies if they send you a rejection. Chances are good they know the twenty other agents and they will all go to lunch and swap horror stories. Be professional and respectful. These are real people with real memories--real long memories.

7. This is my first novel and it's 150,000 words: I know you feel pretty cool having written that much. And it IS cool that you wrote that much, but for a first time author, no publisher wants to commit resources to print that many words. Most adult commercial fiction is between 75,000 and 100,000, and YA is between 60,000 and 80,000words. Try hard to edit your manuscript down to fit into those parameters. It stinks to edit out words that you feel are brilliant, but far better to edit out a few so the rest can actually be read.

8. Typos: check, recheck, and check again. do not send off a query letter with a typo in it. It's only a page. It's imperative that this one page is completely clean. I know manuscripts will inevitably have a few typos, but it is your job to make the editor's job easier. Don't give them reasons to say no. *

9. This is Oprah's next favorite!: Don't tell the agent/editor that you are the next Twilight, Harry Potter, Oprah pick, or that you will definitely sell a million books because you are so brilliant. I said earlier to be confident, but that doesn't mean be cocky.

10. Boring: If you query letter is boring and reads like a third grade book report, then what is the agent/editor supposed to expect from your actual manuscript? Don't have one long paragraph for your story synopsis in the query letter, but break it up into three to four line paragraphs. That helps make it less daunting visually. And remember to keep it interesting. Think of what kind of book jacket blurb would attract you and compel you to make a book purchase. You want your query letter to hold that same sort of excitement.