A popular post from November 2011 (be sure to check the links to make sure the book is still free)
By Julie Wright
We've been talking a lot on this blog about education. What price would you pay to write a GREAT book. We've talked about self editing, about taking the time to go to conferences and read books on writing. We've talked about being willing to fork over a few dollars so that you can LEARN.
But that's not what I'm going to talk about today.
I know Tuesday is almost over, but this is good news, and I was afraid to wait until next Tuesday because the opportunity might be gone.
Right now you can get SIX FREE books on how to write. Seriously. FREE. I've already downloaded mine onto my Kindle. If you don't have a Kindle, that's okay because you can download a PC Kindle app.
Here is the link to start building your reference library for
FREE
If you are at all serious about writing, then you need to learn your craft. This little gift takes all your excuses taken away. Take the time to download a few books that can help fine tune you from an adequate author to a great author.
Happy reading!
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Monday, June 13, 2016
The Middle of Nowhere
A popular post from September 2011
I live in the literal middle of nowhere. Getting to my house is one of those experiences where you start out thinking about how fun the road trip is going to be. You take off with your snacks, and your drinks, and your awesome music you can sing along with. But once you leave the freeway and enter the highway, things feel less promising than they did when you took off. You're moving slower because the speed limits are so incredibly lamely LOW, and sometimes you get stuck behind semi trucks who make the lame low speed limit look like Nascar, and the scenery doesn't feel like it's changing. It's more of the same thing over and over and over. And sometimes you get stuck out there in the middle--due to cattle or sheep, or rolled semi trucks (it happens). Sometimes you get stuck for a long time and it totally bites because there isn't even any cell service.
People show up at my house and come panting in my living room and plopping down on my couch with great exclamations of how they NEVER thought they would get there.
I get them a drink and lament American highways with them because it's the right thing to do. It really is a long drive--necessary for me, but long.
Writing feels similar sometimes.
You get this great idea--this epic, amazing, you-can't-believe-the-idea-actually-came-to-you idea, and you take off, writing furiously. You've got your snacks, your drinks, your best writing music, and you are so excited about what you're working on, you can barely keep the grin off your face. You know that the ending of this work will be colossal, amazing. You're thrilled with how fantastic the destination of the end of your book will be for readers of all ages. You are going to change the world.
Until you find yourself in what feels like the two-lane-highway-stuck-behind-a-semi-truck part of your book.
Welcome. You've now reached the middle.
And you start to doubt.
Is this really where you wanted to go anyway? What's so great about reaching "the end?" Maybe that beginning was the mistake. Maybe you took a wrong turn somewhere . . .
So instead of writing, you rearrange your pen collection, get up for a different snack--you were sick of chips anyway and realize carrot sticks might be healthier. You punch some buttons on the remote control to see what might be on.You call your friends and see about going to a movie, but they're busy writing--jerks, and then you decide that health is overrated, and you wanted ice cream instead.
There are some things you can do to pass the semi--clear the flock off the road, and get back to the freeway that will take you where you want to go.
Boring:
Are you bored? If you're bored, I promise, your reader is too. If that's the reason the middle's slowing down, then you might want to insert some action, some peril, something that incites your characters and your readers. Put them in danger, make the girl lose the guy, have the murderer strike again while the detective is still scrambling with clues. Make something happen that propels the action and the plot forward again.
Goals:
Does your character not have clearly defined goals so your characters are kind of wandering around in the misty middles of nowhere because they're not sure what to do next? if this is the case, go back and find something your character desperately wants or is desperately passionate about. That is the goal. Keep them moving toward the goal, which will help move them away from the middle and closer to the end. Make sure the goal is big enough that the readers will care if the goal is achieved. If the quest is merely for a pint of ice cream--you might not be able to get the reader to follow the journey to the end. Make it riveting enough to hold your attention.
Make sure your antagonist has a clear goal too. No one is evil just for the sake of evil. They have things they want and are trying desperately to achieve.
I have a tendency to get lost in my manuscripts about page 60, and then again at page 120. But I've always found that it's because I've lost sight of the goal or failed to keep the action and plot moving. Middles don't have to feel like the boring nowheres they sometimes seem to be. Take the scenic route and turn your music up louder. And remember to have fun with it!
I live in the literal middle of nowhere. Getting to my house is one of those experiences where you start out thinking about how fun the road trip is going to be. You take off with your snacks, and your drinks, and your awesome music you can sing along with. But once you leave the freeway and enter the highway, things feel less promising than they did when you took off. You're moving slower because the speed limits are so incredibly lamely LOW, and sometimes you get stuck behind semi trucks who make the lame low speed limit look like Nascar, and the scenery doesn't feel like it's changing. It's more of the same thing over and over and over. And sometimes you get stuck out there in the middle--due to cattle or sheep, or rolled semi trucks (it happens). Sometimes you get stuck for a long time and it totally bites because there isn't even any cell service.
People show up at my house and come panting in my living room and plopping down on my couch with great exclamations of how they NEVER thought they would get there.
I get them a drink and lament American highways with them because it's the right thing to do. It really is a long drive--necessary for me, but long.
Writing feels similar sometimes.
You get this great idea--this epic, amazing, you-can't-believe-the-idea-actually-came-to-you idea, and you take off, writing furiously. You've got your snacks, your drinks, your best writing music, and you are so excited about what you're working on, you can barely keep the grin off your face. You know that the ending of this work will be colossal, amazing. You're thrilled with how fantastic the destination of the end of your book will be for readers of all ages. You are going to change the world.
Until you find yourself in what feels like the two-lane-highway-stuck-behind-a-semi-truck part of your book.
Welcome. You've now reached the middle.
And you start to doubt.
Is this really where you wanted to go anyway? What's so great about reaching "the end?" Maybe that beginning was the mistake. Maybe you took a wrong turn somewhere . . .
So instead of writing, you rearrange your pen collection, get up for a different snack--you were sick of chips anyway and realize carrot sticks might be healthier. You punch some buttons on the remote control to see what might be on.You call your friends and see about going to a movie, but they're busy writing--jerks, and then you decide that health is overrated, and you wanted ice cream instead.
There are some things you can do to pass the semi--clear the flock off the road, and get back to the freeway that will take you where you want to go.
Boring:
Are you bored? If you're bored, I promise, your reader is too. If that's the reason the middle's slowing down, then you might want to insert some action, some peril, something that incites your characters and your readers. Put them in danger, make the girl lose the guy, have the murderer strike again while the detective is still scrambling with clues. Make something happen that propels the action and the plot forward again.
Goals:
Does your character not have clearly defined goals so your characters are kind of wandering around in the misty middles of nowhere because they're not sure what to do next? if this is the case, go back and find something your character desperately wants or is desperately passionate about. That is the goal. Keep them moving toward the goal, which will help move them away from the middle and closer to the end. Make sure the goal is big enough that the readers will care if the goal is achieved. If the quest is merely for a pint of ice cream--you might not be able to get the reader to follow the journey to the end. Make it riveting enough to hold your attention.
Make sure your antagonist has a clear goal too. No one is evil just for the sake of evil. They have things they want and are trying desperately to achieve.
I have a tendency to get lost in my manuscripts about page 60, and then again at page 120. But I've always found that it's because I've lost sight of the goal or failed to keep the action and plot moving. Middles don't have to feel like the boring nowheres they sometimes seem to be. Take the scenic route and turn your music up louder. And remember to have fun with it!
Friday, June 10, 2016
Myths and Validation
A popular post from August 2011
By Julie Wright
I've always known I had to go into an occupation that involved writing since I wasn't good for anything else. I wanted to be in advertising--wanted to win a Clio. I wanted to write ads so awesome they'd be played during the Super Bowl. And, to be completely base about the whole thing, I wanted to make a lot of money.
I once believed that writing a novel and getting it published guaranteed you big royalty checks. For the most part, that isn't true. Sure there are exceptions, but I wasn't one of them. My first check was disappointing. Then I got with a bigger publisher and my checks started coming in with actual commas in them. That was pretty exciting and I realized I could actually make a living at this.
So why keep doing it?
There is the other validation--the one that has nothing to do with dollar signs and everything to do with achieving something great. It has something to do with that buzz that comes when you reach the end of a draft--when you took nothing and made it something.
That validation is pretty intense. The emotions that come with it can be likened to the thrill of jumping off a cliff into a void and as you fall the void turns into mountain ranges or skyscrapers or castles. And you land safely in the middle of a murder mystery, or an epic fantasy, or a hilarious contemporary romance.
Dave Wolverton always tells people that a decent living can be made at writing, and I absolutely agree. but like anything it takes work. Unless you are that entirely rare fluke, it isn't going to be something that happens overnight. One of my best friends recently got a six figure deal and that was for North American rights only. he'll do great with foreign rights and movie rights. And I am thrilled for him. But he's worked his butt off for years to get to this place. Because of the work involved--a lot of people drop out. They can't handle the time it takes to write a GREAT manuscript versus the decent-enough manuscript. They can't handle the rejections. They can't handle the waiting. That is why that other form of validation is so important. Knowing why you're doing it, knowing that it takes time to get the draft right, to get that agent, to get that publisher and then to build your audience, knowing all that makes it easier to live in the mental and emotional validation versus the monetary one.
And it make it easier to laugh at jokes like this:
Three guys are sitting in a bar.
#1 "Yeah I make $80,000 a year for a living."
Know why you're doing it, and you'll live through the myths and make it to the validation. :)
By Julie Wright
I read a quote that made me laugh and cry--or at least feel like crying.
"I have always believed that writing advertisements is the second most profitable form of writing. The first, of course, is ransom notes . . ." --Philip DusenberryAs a mass communications major, I found that absolutely hilarious. As a novelist . . . well, it hurt a little, only because it is so dang true.
I've always known I had to go into an occupation that involved writing since I wasn't good for anything else. I wanted to be in advertising--wanted to win a Clio. I wanted to write ads so awesome they'd be played during the Super Bowl. And, to be completely base about the whole thing, I wanted to make a lot of money.
And then one day I finished my first novel. The moment of completion can only be likened unto Dr. Frankenstein with his monster. I'm pretty sure I cackled like a mad man scientist, and the manuscript felt very much alive. The novel had started as a side note for me--a way to prove to some idiot naysayer that I could write a novel, but at that moment, it was everything. The feeling was so immense, I knew I would have to do it again. I needed that feeling again.
Writing became my personal drug.
Writing became my personal drug.
It would be another several years before I learned anything about really writing. It would be another decade before I was actually any good at it. And over that time I discovered a distinction between the emotional validation that comes with writing and the monetary validation.
I once believed that writing a novel and getting it published guaranteed you big royalty checks. For the most part, that isn't true. Sure there are exceptions, but I wasn't one of them. My first check was disappointing. Then I got with a bigger publisher and my checks started coming in with actual commas in them. That was pretty exciting and I realized I could actually make a living at this.
I know some people who support their families off of their writing. I know others who can't take their families to McDonalds on their royalty checks. I started writing for a niche market. I am successful in my niche market, but it's still a niche market. I knew that going in and of course I am branching out to those larger markets. But I've heard of other authors who are out there in their huge markets, and all the potential those markets have to offer, and they make less than I do.
So why keep doing it?
There is the other validation--the one that has nothing to do with dollar signs and everything to do with achieving something great. It has something to do with that buzz that comes when you reach the end of a draft--when you took nothing and made it something.
That validation is pretty intense. The emotions that come with it can be likened to the thrill of jumping off a cliff into a void and as you fall the void turns into mountain ranges or skyscrapers or castles. And you land safely in the middle of a murder mystery, or an epic fantasy, or a hilarious contemporary romance.
Dave Wolverton always tells people that a decent living can be made at writing, and I absolutely agree. but like anything it takes work. Unless you are that entirely rare fluke, it isn't going to be something that happens overnight. One of my best friends recently got a six figure deal and that was for North American rights only. he'll do great with foreign rights and movie rights. And I am thrilled for him. But he's worked his butt off for years to get to this place. Because of the work involved--a lot of people drop out. They can't handle the time it takes to write a GREAT manuscript versus the decent-enough manuscript. They can't handle the rejections. They can't handle the waiting. That is why that other form of validation is so important. Knowing why you're doing it, knowing that it takes time to get the draft right, to get that agent, to get that publisher and then to build your audience, knowing all that makes it easier to live in the mental and emotional validation versus the monetary one.
And it make it easier to laugh at jokes like this:
Three guys are sitting in a bar.
#1 "Yeah I make $80,000 a year for a living."
#2 "Cool. What do you do for a living?"
#1 "I'm a stockbroker. How much do you make?"
#2 "I should clear $65,000 this year."
#1 "What do you do?"
#2 "I'm an architect."
The third guy has been sitting quietly staring into his beer when the others turn to him.
#2. "So what about you? What do you make a year?"
#3 "$13,000."
#1 "Oh really? So what kind of books do you write?"
Know why you're doing it, and you'll live through the myths and make it to the validation. :)
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Effective Arcs
A popular post from July 2010
by Annette Lyon
by Annette Lyon
As I've read the articles, I've found it fascinating to see how applicable the very same tools are to both memoir and fiction.
Memoir is one person's memory of real events, but to be something readers want to keep turning pages on, it can't be a laundry list of events in a person's life. It needs to have a structure, a narrative arc.
One piece in the magazine, "Elements of an Effective Arc," by Adair Lara, discusses how to create your own effective memoir arc. Throughout the article, I couldn't help but think how applicable the same concepts are to crafting a novel.
Here are a few tidbits she includes, but tweaked by me a bit to fit novelists instead of memoir writers:
The Desire Line
What does your MC want most? It should fit in one sentence and be specific. "Rhea wants to be happy" isn't good enough. Think of what your MC's happiest possible ending would look like. What did they get? THAT is what the desire line should be about.
Actions and Obstacles
No story is complete without conflict. (I'd venture to stay it's not a story if it doesn't have conflict). Lara uses a formula to show how this works. It's in first person since it's talking about memoir, but put your MC in place of "I" and fill it out:
I wanted _________ (the desire line).
To get it, I ________ (action).
To get it, I then _____ (action).
But ________ (obstacle) got in my way.
So I ________ (action).
And so on (many times) throughout the book.
Characters we love are those who want something and act on it. They don't sit around and react to life as it happens around them. They make things happen. Since they're active in the story, they naturally run into obstacles (hence, conflict).
They then try to find a way around those obstacles. (Still being active participants in events.)
That creates a story, especially when the desire line is compelling enough that the reader wants the MC to get what's in the Desire Line as much as the MC does.
Emotional Beats
Lara describes emotional beats as shifts in emotion that lead to events, which lead to obstacles. Emotion is what drives a story. When your MC feels something strongly (positive or negative), they take action. And then they run into an obstacle.
Example:
Belle is terrified of the Beast (Emotion)
So in spite of her promise, she runs away. (Action)
But a wolf pack attacks her. (Obstacle)
Check out page 37 of WD to see the graph Lara has there of an effective arc.
She includes the Inciting Incident, the first emotional beat and the moment things change in your MC's life. Beats will ramp up. Some will be life-altering, while others won't be quite so intense, but they should all point toward the desire line: what is motivating your character to keep moving through these emotions, toward action, around obstacles?
The Ending Incident
Someone once said that to write a good story, you start at the beginning, tell the story, and when it's over, stop.
Much easier said than done.
Knowing when the story is over and to stop writing is a tricky, especially for something as big as a novel, where there are loose ends to wrap up. But knowing where to end is a must: you can't go on and on and on once the major conflict is resolved.
To put it in Lara's terms: once your MC has achieve their Desire Line, the story is over. The MC has what they want/need. The end.
Granted, it's not quite that simple, but the concepts she outlines for a memoir arc are sound and worth paying attention to as you map out your novel.
WHAT does your MC want? What will get him/her to that place? What does finding that thing look like in your story?
When your MC reaches whatever that thing is (assuming you're going for a happy ending), that's where your arc comes down, and therefore, the story, ends. If your story doesn't end happily, the arc still needs to come down in a satisfying way: maybe the MC realizes they want something else and get that. Or they find that they can't get it, and they go through the process of accepting that. Whatever it is, the arc must be satisfying.
If you're stuck in the middle of your book, stand back and analyze the elements of your arc.
- Do you have strong emotional beats where they're needed to propel the action?
- Are your obstacles big enough?
- Are the obstacles a result of the action your MC took?
- Do the emotional beats/actions/obstacles bring your MC closer to what they want in the end?
Whether it's with memoir or fiction, readers need something to hook onto, something to grip them and keep them turning pages. A solid arc will do that for you.
(For the full article, see pages 34-38. Adair Lara teaches memoir writing.)
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Monday, June 6, 2016
Losing My Grip on Reality
A popular post from September 2010
by Annette Lyon
by Annette Lyon
***
It's happened every time. You'd think I'd get used to it.
But somehow I get the same weak-knee, punched-in-the gut, light-headed feeling every time.
I stare. I almost cry. And then I have to stop myself from looking around just in case one of my characters happens to be lurking around in spirit form. Sometimes I'm tempted to grab someone near me, point, and say, "Did you know that right over there, so-and-so stood and did such-and such?"
And of course, if I really did that, I'd sound like a total crazy person, because "so-and-so" never did exist, and never did "such-and-such."
What happened?
I was at the Garden Restaurant at the top of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building in Salt Lake City. It has the most marvelous view of the top of the Salt Lake Temple.
I knew this. I've been there before. But the last time was a good decade or so ago.
BEFORE I wrote a book about the temple. With an epilogue that takes place on the day of the capstone celebration. The end of the epilogue is at the top of the spires, exactly what I was looking out at.
During that time, while the scaffolding was still in place, they sold tickets to the public to climb up and view the city from the top of the the temple. (Can you imagine what a sight that would have been?)
That night in 1892, after the capstone celebration, shortly after Angel Moroni was set into place, I have my characters at the top of the temple. (I'm not going to tell you who they are or what had transpired; you'll just have to read the story. Let's just say that I'm already getting a bit emotional telling you this much. Man, I love my characters . . .)
So there I was at the restaurant staring out at the spires. I nearly snagged a lady standing next to me. "Over there, see?" I wanted to say. "That's exactly where they were standing with their families, looking out over the valley."
Instead, I gazed out, felt a fluttery feeling in my stomach, blinked back tears, and tried to get a grip on reality.
They're not real, I reminded myself.
But the same thing happened the first time I drove into Logan after House on the Hill was released (I swear I nearly saw Abe and Lizzy running across Main Street toward the Tabernacle) and again when I visited the St. George Temple after At the Journey's End came out (I almost pointed out to my daughter where Clara and Miriam were dropped off on the wagon and she first walked into the temple).
What is my problem?!
I guess what it boils down to is that I love the landmarks I write about. I feel immersed in the history. And I completely fall in love with my characters. They feel real to me.
And when all is said and done, I hope they become as vividly real to my readers, too.
But somehow I get the same weak-knee, punched-in-the gut, light-headed feeling every time.
I stare. I almost cry. And then I have to stop myself from looking around just in case one of my characters happens to be lurking around in spirit form. Sometimes I'm tempted to grab someone near me, point, and say, "Did you know that right over there, so-and-so stood and did such-and such?"
And of course, if I really did that, I'd sound like a total crazy person, because "so-and-so" never did exist, and never did "such-and-such."
What happened?
I was at the Garden Restaurant at the top of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building in Salt Lake City. It has the most marvelous view of the top of the Salt Lake Temple.
I knew this. I've been there before. But the last time was a good decade or so ago.
BEFORE I wrote a book about the temple. With an epilogue that takes place on the day of the capstone celebration. The end of the epilogue is at the top of the spires, exactly what I was looking out at.
During that time, while the scaffolding was still in place, they sold tickets to the public to climb up and view the city from the top of the the temple. (Can you imagine what a sight that would have been?)
That night in 1892, after the capstone celebration, shortly after Angel Moroni was set into place, I have my characters at the top of the temple. (I'm not going to tell you who they are or what had transpired; you'll just have to read the story. Let's just say that I'm already getting a bit emotional telling you this much. Man, I love my characters . . .)
So there I was at the restaurant staring out at the spires. I nearly snagged a lady standing next to me. "Over there, see?" I wanted to say. "That's exactly where they were standing with their families, looking out over the valley."
Instead, I gazed out, felt a fluttery feeling in my stomach, blinked back tears, and tried to get a grip on reality.
They're not real, I reminded myself.
But the same thing happened the first time I drove into Logan after House on the Hill was released (I swear I nearly saw Abe and Lizzy running across Main Street toward the Tabernacle) and again when I visited the St. George Temple after At the Journey's End came out (I almost pointed out to my daughter where Clara and Miriam were dropped off on the wagon and she first walked into the temple).
What is my problem?!
I guess what it boils down to is that I love the landmarks I write about. I feel immersed in the history. And I completely fall in love with my characters. They feel real to me.
And when all is said and done, I hope they become as vividly real to my readers, too.
Friday, June 3, 2016
I Think the Best and Expect the Best
A popular post from September 2010
By Julie Wright
My father was once the president of the Optimist International Club. Yes, optimists have a club and yes, they’ve really gone international.
At the age of thirteen, I came home with a mountain of homework to do and plowed into it (this is because I was ugly and unpopular and didn’t really have anything else to do in my life EXCEPT homework). Halfway through the mountain, my dad called.
“I need you to write up a speech and be prepared to give that speech out loud in front of a panel of judges and several hundred other people who are part of my club. I’ll be picking you up in a little less than two hours. Oh, and Julie? You have to wear a dress.” (Okay, fine, he didn’t actually mention the hundreds of people. He left that part as a surprise.)
It seems many of my life altering moments involved being rushed into something before I could think it through well enough to protest, and me wearing a dress. So I wrote a five minute speech on this topic: “I think the best; I expect the best.”
I was thirteen (as I’ve already pointed out). Five minutes of positive thinking for any teenager is quite a stretch. It turns out, this little shin-dig Dad had me go to was a public speaking contest. Lots of kids were entered and most of them were tutored by drama and public speaking coaches. The only public speaking I’d ever done was yelling at my brother in the grocery store. Why my father felt compelled to throw me in the mix at the last minute, I couldn’t really say. Standing in front of all those adults scared me to knee-knocking death.
Of course, I didn’t win. And I actually had the gall to feel badly about not winning. I went with two hours preparation and a dress that didn’t fit (because I never wore dresses back then; my parents were hard pressed to get me to wear shoes), and I had the nerve to feel I should have placed higher than the people who went prepared.
And what might this little trip down memory lane mean?
It means that so often we go into something less than prepared and then get ticked off when it doesn’t turn out the way we think it should.
I meet writers who finish their first novels and immediately begin submitting. And while I congratulate them for the fact that they actually finished a novel, and further congratulate them for having the fortitude it takes to submit, I wonder if they aren’t going into a contest less prepared than their competition.
Did those writers send their manuscripts out to critique groups? Did they receive the right coaching? Did they study up on how to make themselves stand out in the slushpile? Do they know the mechanics of writing? Are they passionate about their manuscript? What are their credentials? Did they even run a spell check before sending in the manuscript?
And worse, those writers (me included back before I knew better) whine when they don’t walk home with a contract in hand. The speech I wrote back then still resonates with me.
I think the best; I expect the best. And something more to take away the prize: I gave my best.
By Julie Wright
My father was once the president of the Optimist International Club. Yes, optimists have a club and yes, they’ve really gone international.
At the age of thirteen, I came home with a mountain of homework to do and plowed into it (this is because I was ugly and unpopular and didn’t really have anything else to do in my life EXCEPT homework). Halfway through the mountain, my dad called.
“I need you to write up a speech and be prepared to give that speech out loud in front of a panel of judges and several hundred other people who are part of my club. I’ll be picking you up in a little less than two hours. Oh, and Julie? You have to wear a dress.” (Okay, fine, he didn’t actually mention the hundreds of people. He left that part as a surprise.)
It seems many of my life altering moments involved being rushed into something before I could think it through well enough to protest, and me wearing a dress. So I wrote a five minute speech on this topic: “I think the best; I expect the best.”
I was thirteen (as I’ve already pointed out). Five minutes of positive thinking for any teenager is quite a stretch. It turns out, this little shin-dig Dad had me go to was a public speaking contest. Lots of kids were entered and most of them were tutored by drama and public speaking coaches. The only public speaking I’d ever done was yelling at my brother in the grocery store. Why my father felt compelled to throw me in the mix at the last minute, I couldn’t really say. Standing in front of all those adults scared me to knee-knocking death.
Of course, I didn’t win. And I actually had the gall to feel badly about not winning. I went with two hours preparation and a dress that didn’t fit (because I never wore dresses back then; my parents were hard pressed to get me to wear shoes), and I had the nerve to feel I should have placed higher than the people who went prepared.
And what might this little trip down memory lane mean?
It means that so often we go into something less than prepared and then get ticked off when it doesn’t turn out the way we think it should.
I meet writers who finish their first novels and immediately begin submitting. And while I congratulate them for the fact that they actually finished a novel, and further congratulate them for having the fortitude it takes to submit, I wonder if they aren’t going into a contest less prepared than their competition.
Did those writers send their manuscripts out to critique groups? Did they receive the right coaching? Did they study up on how to make themselves stand out in the slushpile? Do they know the mechanics of writing? Are they passionate about their manuscript? What are their credentials? Did they even run a spell check before sending in the manuscript?
And worse, those writers (me included back before I knew better) whine when they don’t walk home with a contract in hand. The speech I wrote back then still resonates with me.
I think the best; I expect the best. And something more to take away the prize: I gave my best.
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Extra Eyes
A popular post from August 2011
by Annette Lyon
Last Saturday was the first ever Precision Editing Group live critique workshop. Each of the five senior editors had a table of writers, and we spent the day reading pages aloud and helping one another improve.
(We also got a picture taken of the five of us, which you can see in the sidebar. Left to right: Lu Ann Staheli, Heather Moore, Julie Wright, me, and Josi Kilpack.)
I had a great group of writers at my table. Here we are (I'm third from the left):
I led the discussion, but I wasn't the only one talking. Everyone got to comment on everyone else's work, and I believe they all learned something from the three elements of the day:
1) Taking a critique from others.
Learning to accept a critique helps a writer build a thicker skin and lets you view your work more objectively. It's easy to get so close to your story that you can't see what's good and what's not so good without stepping back. The best way I've found to get that distance is through receiving outside feedback.
2) Giving a critique to others.
When you put on the editor hat and must actively look at someone else's work through that lens, you're working a different creative muscle. If you're like me, you'll discover things about writing that you didn't know before. You'll see something that works well (or doesn't), and then you have to articulate why. Also, sometimes I'll see a problem in someone's work, and only then do I realize that I do the very same thing.
3) Watching other people critique a third person's work.
When different perspectives and different skill sets are put into action in front of you, you may get some of the best writing education of your life. I've had more light-bulb moments watching members of my critique group help each other than in almost any other way.
I've learned huge amounts from all three critique ways, and I believe that my table did, too, even though we had just one day together.
Kudos to the five writers at my table. Your willingness to both learn and give was inspiring, and I was impressed with your work. Keep at it!
If you haven't had this type of critique experience, find one. Joining my critique group in January of 2000 was the single best thing I did for my writing. My skills jumped ahead light years in a matter of months.
I'm sure we'll have more writing workshops in the future. Be sure to watch for any announcements, because you won't want to miss out.
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Annette Lyon,
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