On giving myself permission not to finish books

A quick snapshot of one of our many bookshelves

Long before I was a writer, I was a reader. A voracious reader. At the age of 10, I had read through my local library's collection of children's books and had to have my mother talk to the librarian and grant me permission to take out books from the rest of the library.

I once tried to count all the books I had read - it was my version of 'counting sheep' when I had a hard time falling asleep - and always lost track, but even then, it was in the hundreds.

So when I say I've read a lot, you'll have to take it on faith that it means many thousands of books over a lifetime.

I never abandoned books before I began to write them. It felt disrespectful, somehow, to the sacred act of writing. So even if I didn't enjoy something, I finished it. That changed in my 40s and 50s. Maybe because now that I am a writer, I don't want to internalize poor writing or work that may be good, but I don't enjoy. Maybe because I realized at some point that there would be far more books published than I could ever read, even if I had several lifetimes to do so.

So now I stop reading and put the book away if I get to the 10% mark and am not in the least engaged. In the past 6 months, I've abandoned more books than I've finished. For the majority of them, it wasn't that they were 'bad' (however that is measured), but just not engaging. If I don't care about the characters or the story, then reading becomes work, not pleasure.

There is a common thread in many of the books I set aside: they tell me about the story instead of telling me a story.

The book I closed last night was a prime example. I felt like the author was relating the events of the plot, as if they were giving me a synopsis, rather than letting the story unfold.

Many times, this is a result of mediocre writing, but more crucial, of the author maintaining a kind of uninterested distance from the work. After pages and pages of 'this happens and that happens and then that happens next', I grew bored. There were exciting things happening - a mutiny aboard a space ship, a captain dying from some unrevealed disease or disorder, his need to protect a young woman under his care - but it was a color-by-numbers kind of presentation.

If the author passionately cares about the story and transmits that care THROUGH the characters, then I will happily read even a poorly crafted story. But even if the words are well crafted, I don't have patience to stay with a story that has no passion.

And lest you think that this is a dig at self-published work, understand that I am an equal opportunity critic. Several of the books I set aside in the past 6 months were Nebula and Hugo nominees. Several were self-published books.

What this tells me is craft and packaging is not, on their own, enough and sometimes craft and packaging are not the essential elements of a great story. What I have discovered is when passionate writing, craft, and packaging happen in one place, that's going to be an amazing book. 


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The essential purpose of feedback

Let no page escape unscathed.. .

I'm a writer. Which means I spend a lot of time alone in my head. While I am almost never lonely with the company of my imaginary friends, it can lead to living in a creative vacuum.

It's extremely difficult to both draft a story and objectively assess that story. One process needs the red hot fire of creation; the other needs a cold, dispassionate assessment.

That is one of the reasons solid writing advice always includes 'turn off your inner editor' when writing. I have more or less made my peace with my internal editor. She is usually awake and alert while I write and lets me know she's waiting for the draft to be finished before she tears it apart.

And I can be, if not dispassionate about my own writing, at least willing to admit it will need work. Hard work. And I'm willing to do that work.

I've been told I am a glutton for punishment when it comes to critique. I seek it out on each and every project I work on. Some of my early readers are my fellow writers, some are incisive readers. Regardless of where I receive my feedback, I take it very seriously and I am grateful for it, even if sometimes it hurts to accept.

No one wants to know their creation has flaws, even as we know that it does. (Silly humans and their denial!)

This week has brought me to a place where I had to accept feedback I really didn't want, but knew I needed on two different projects.

One is a novel that I originally wrote in 2006/7. I revised it at least twice, had a close call with a small publisher, then closed the folder on my laptop and moved to other things. But the potential of that manuscript has always nagged at me and I worked with a developmental editor to try to give it a new life. She wrote up 20 pages of notes that I put away because I was enmeshed in other projects. Until last week. I've been working through the story, reading and re-reading her notes, and trying to bring the story to my current abilities. (Thankfully, I can see how much better I am as a writer, instead of simply cringing about how I think this book stinks.)

Much of her commentary is spot on and makes sense. Some I don't agree with, but that's the author's prerogative. It does mean that I have to examine what I don't agree with and understand why. But that's also part of my job and I do enjoy this process.

I also have a short story in process that's due for an anthology project and has a drop dead deadline that is fast approaching.

Short stories are not my forte. Especially not ones that need to be between 5,000 and 10,000 words. I seem to be able to naturally write either really short - poetry and very tight short stories or novel length. Just not anything in between. But this one needed to be written. Again, it's part of the job of the writer and I do recognize the need to push out of my comfort zone. That's where growth happens.

I put out a call on G+ for beta readers for the story and many of my readers offered their time. I am extremely grateful to them. There are days where I wake up and realize 'hey! I'm a writer. And I have fans! Holy shit!' 

So back to feedback.

Yesterday, I received and was able to internalize several sets of critical feedback on both the manuscript and the story. And by critical, I mean in all senses of the word. Critically important. And critical as in deconstructing and assessing.

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These are paraphrases (for both projects):

Why did you skip the scene where your main character has to react to realizing she's just been manipulated again and start with her waking up the next morning? This is a bad habit of yours in that you constantly 'pull your punches' on the emotionally difficult parts. 

I didn't like it, sorry. So while well written I didn't buy the plot. The sudden change at the end didn't stack up with anything we know about the character.

The pace was off. A bit of a rough start.

I wasn't hooked at all. ( -- that was from my husband! Ouch!)

Here's what's not working for me: We don't really know what's at stake for G. I think the problem is that the story is told chronologically  and it reads too much like a novel. Reader expectations are very different for a short story. Give us cause to worry about G right from the beginning.

Full disclosure: I did whine and stomp my feet (metaphorically, of course) in getting this feedback. But I'm a big girl and I put on my big girl pants and did what I needed to do. I took a deep breath and went back to work. For the manuscript, I added scenes and chapters showing the characters reacting in real time to difficult situations. For the short story, I cut nearly a third of it that I recognized was 'throat clearing' and rearranged the rest to start with the stakes. I also filled the plot holes that made the main character's actions implausible.

And sent the new version out for a few test readers. My husband gave me the thumbs up. A reader friend did as well.

Here's the interesting thing: I didn't make enormous changes to the bones of the plot. I just listened to what wasn't working for the readers and let my editor brain free to do her work based on objective feedback, instead of running around in circle in my own head.

When I was a young writer, I never wanted to 'sully' my creative endeavors with feedback. What emerged from my muse was sparkling and perfect and right. Any revision would only ruin it. If someone didn't like it, they simply didn't understand it. The act of creation wasn't work; it was waiting for inspiration to flow through me and onto the page.

It is any wonder that I didn't write anything of substance until I was in my 40s? That's when I finally understood the essentially relationship between art and craft and had matured enough to be willing to do what it took to be better.

So, I will end this by saying thank you to my colleagues and my readers who are willing to be honest and push me to be the writer I aspire to be. I am grateful.

Thank you.

#SFWApro
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Seeing the Flaws

Work from April 2013

When you've been practicing something for some time, there's a good chance you're going to get better at it. Which is totally a good thing.

I've been working with clay - handbuilding and throwing on the wheel - for 8 years at this point and I'm finally in a place where I feel I have basic mastery of form and process. I can sit down and create an intentional shape, a planned set of items, even execute a project I'd only imagined and have it work.

My skills have definitely improved significantly from where I was even a year ago. Also a good thing.

What becomes difficult, is that my critical eye gets better even faster than my hands.

I met a friend for lunch at her house last week (:waves to Bliss:) and realized she had one of the mugs pictured above. I cringed. Looking at it, I realize there's more wrong with it than right. I could make a list of the flaws in the work, from centering to shape and proportion, to finishing, to glaze application. What I am making now is far, far better than these.

Yet my friend loves her mug. It's even one of her favorites.

I think she would be mad if I gave in to my impulse to smash it and bring her a new one!

It's a good thing the mug is at her house and not mine. If it were here, I would smash it. Not from anger or frustration, but from a position of not getting overly attached to a thing, and realizing that each item of ware I create teaches me something. Once I've learned the lesson, I no longer have to keep the product. It's the process that's most valuable.

'starry night' mugs, 2015

But another lesson here is in learning to let things go.

We are all works in progress and not finished products.

This is also true of my writing.

I finished ITHAKA RISING in 2014 and after the usual process - revisions, readers, revisions redux, editor, production - it was published earlier in 2015.  Today I finished reviewing the audio book files for the story. All 15+ hours of them.

And I have to admit, there were places where I cringed in the listening. I heard all the awkward word choices, the places where character wobbled, pacing issues, inconsistencies in descriptions. It was like looking at a bowl I'd thrown a year ago and only seeing where it wasn't centered.

But, here's the thing: perfect doesn't exist. Not in handmade pottery. Not in paintings. Not in music. And not in writing stories. The craftsman is probably always going to be hardest on the finished work. What I came to realize, after having to listen to several sections over again, was that the story didn't deserve to be 'smashed'. It was . . . it *is* a good story. I can distance myself from it, just a bit, to see it through a reader's eye and see where it has a strong shape. Where it is pleasing. Where it entertains and moves. That it works.

I can see both the flaws and the strengths and be satisfied, yet still be determined to hone my craft.

Because that is what artists do. Between now and next year, I will throw hundreds of cylinders on the wheel. I will lay down tens of thousands of words on the page. If I am true to the process, what I produce then will be better than what I can produce now.

And that, too, is a good thing. 

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What's your enjoyment worth?

No one expects the Spanish inquisition professionals to work for free

When I worked as a physical therapist, I got paid for my expertise. For the first decade of my practice, I was employed by various hospitals that paid me a living wage and no one expected me to provide PT for free, for the exposure.

For the next 10+ years, I ran my own private practice. I was a business of one; I booked appointments, treated patients, filed documentation, sent out billing. I was never criticized for charging for my work. (And I offered sliding scale for individuals who otherwise wouldn't have had access to care. No one expected me to treat them for free.)

I had a very successful practice in which I charged reasonable rates for my time and skill, and provided high quality care that allowed hundreds of folks to recover from injuries and return to full function.

Five years ago, I shut down my practice (for various personal/family reasons) and had the opportunity to focus on my writing. Having been a successful solo entrepreneur, I treated this new enterprise as a business as well. I expected to provide quality reading experiences in return for reasonable recompense in the cost of a book.

And ran right into the disruption of publishing as enabled by the internet.

Now, disruption creates opportunities, just as it obliterates others. I don't need to rehash the way in which the eBook revolution allows writers to directly connect with their ideal readers. However, the very democratization of the internet that we laud is also responsible for the idea that creativity is a public good.

On her blog, Artist Empathy, Sarah Manning wrote a long and cogent post on the criticism the band Pomplamoose received after their breakdown of income and expenses from their most recent tour. The tl;dr version: the indie band paid for their tech crew and backup musicians, slept in a basic motel, etc, and ended up nearly 12K in the red (136K income, 148K expenses) for a 28 day tour.

Cue the hate

The comments, both on Manning's piece, Jack Conte's (one of the principals of Pomplamoose) and the Gawker article that condemned the band, are the expected: the band is scamming everyone, Conte posted his article as a publicity stunt (he's a co-founder of Patreon), they should have lived in the van, they shouldn't have paid their back up musicians or tech crew, and on and on.

Somehow, there's this expectation that artists need to create for the sheer love of their art. They should release it for 'the exposure.' That asking fair recompense for creativity is somehow crass.
 

The Price of Entertainment

From Manning's post:

"The reality is that we’ve reduced American culture to a system of arbitrary donations and pats on the head. That isn’t sustainable."

Music, photography, digital art, vidoes, and writing can all be distributed, shared, and downloaded virtually. And because it's so simple to find what you want and freely take it, we have devalued the creation itself. But if creators can't eat, house, or clothe themselves, then who will create the art we want?

Sure, creators understand the need for day jobs. I know very few writers, for example, who expect to make a full living from their books. Some will, but they are the outliers. Same with musicians, actors, photographers, painters, etc. But if we (and by 'we' I mean society) buy into and promulgate the myth of the starving artist and suffering for one's art, what are we saying about creativity itself? Especially when we open our wallets to blockbuster movies, tie in toys, big-venue music tours - in effect supporting corporate creativity while starving individual creativity.

I have two sons in college. One is majoring in theatre, the other in music composition. Both know the chances of 'making it' on a big scale in either discipline are slim. Both know they will need to earn income in more traditional ways while they pursue their art. (I don't have a problem with this - I spent nearly 25 years working as a physical therapist before pursuing a full time writing career. There's idealism and there's reality, especially in a tough economy. The thing is, it becomes impossible - not just difficult -  if creatives are expected to give away their work.)  I've gotten flak from friends and family for letting my sons study such 'useless' things, given the return on investment of college.

But what about a return on investment of life? Again, from Manning:

"Repressing artists by making it impossible for them to survive as valued members of the working class represses our whole society."

As humans, we are inherently creators. Look at children: they create every day in the context of their play. We know that we are hard-wired for story. Study after study tells us that creativity and original thinking enhances the productivity and success of all kinds of work. So why do we throw our creators under society's bus?

We are our own Worst Enemies

And we have bought into the fiction that art needs to be free. Case in point: I was looking through Deviant Art for an artist whose work spoke to me, so I could obtain cover art for a short story collection. I found such an artist. Her screen name is Verismaya and her work is magnificent. I contacted her for permission to license one of her images to use for my short story collection: STRANGER WORLDS THAN THESE.

Art by Verismaya. Isn't her work beautiful???

She was flattered and excited and told me to help myself.

What she didn't understand was that I was looking to pay her for the use of her art. She had never had anyone offer to pay her before. She had bought into the 'work for exposure' myth. I live in the north east where winter is fierce. I know that 'exposure' can kill. (Yes, I'm being flippant, but it's also a serious matter.) We negotiated a fair price and I paid her for the ability to use the art.

We Value what we Pay For

In addition to my writing work, I'm also a potter. I create functional ware in clay, both on the wheel and handbuilding. It takes time, patience, practice, and skill to make pottery. Hand made work is more expensive than buying a mass produced cup or bowl from a store like Pottery Barn. But the set of dishes we use are not pieces of art. The serving pieces and coffee mugs I have collected over the years (buying from other artists) and have made for myself are functional art. They are worth a few dollars more, not only because of the skill and artistry of the maker, but because they bring beauty and enjoyment to my every day life.

This is what I value. It is what I am willing to pay for.

I also buy books and music. I am paying for my enjoyment and recognizing the skill of the creator.

We value what we pay for and we pay for what we value. What do you value? What are you willing to pay for it?

Claws of the Cat: A Debut Novel

It is my great pleasure to be part of my friend and crit partner Susan Spann's incredible historical mystery debut, "Claws of the Cat".

Susan is a transactional attorney and former law school professor whose practice focuses on publishing law and business. Claws of the Cat, her debut shinobi mystery featuring ninja detective Hiro Hattori, released on July 16, 2013, from Minotaur Books (for more information visit her author page at Minotaur). Susan has a deep interest in Asian culture and has studied Mandarin and Japanese. Her hobbies include Asian cooking, fencing, traditional archery, martial arts, rock climbing, and horseback riding, and she keeps a marine aquarium where she raises seahorses and rare corals. You can find Susan online at http://www.susanspann.com, or on Twitter @SusanSpann.

Please welcome Susan to Once in a Blue Muse as she talks about the drop-dead-gorgeous cover for "Claws of the Cat."

Cover art can make or break a novel, but for the traditionally published author, this critical facet of the work is often totally out of the author’s control.

Sometimes, that results in a horror story complete with tears and terror. In my case, it resulted in an unexpected gift.

When I signed my contract with Minotaur, I accepted that the cover art was out of my control and I made a decision. Whatever my cover looked like, I would love it.

I told myself so over and over … “you’ll love the cover, you’ll love it, whatever it looks like,” and yet, some fear remained. My editor, Toni Kirkpatrick, “got” the book from the very beginning, which helped my fear a little. An editor who understands your vibe will direct the art department in vital ways.

Still, I didn’t know, and lack of knowledge always leads to fear.

Cover art sells books—and doesn’t sell others—especially now, when online traffic makes up a large percentage of overall sales. A cover needs to look good in a thumbnail size as well as on the front of a physical book.

Good cover art, like good novels, features motion, tension, and intrigue. A reader looking at the cover must want to know more about what’s inside. The issue, of course, is finding art which can draw the reader across all platforms, electronic and mobile as well as physical. Readers who can’t understand or relate to the image in thumbnail often pass on a book they might pick up in a store. That means lost sales—a thing no author, regardless of platform, can ignore.

A second important aspect of covers relates to their place in a series. My debut novel Claws of the Cat, is the first in a mystery series featuring ninja detective Hiro Hattori and his Portuguese Jesuit sidekick, Father Mateo. Series covers usually feature a common style, and if that initial cover “jumps the shark,” the series may soon follow. Subsequent covers might improve, but the first one sets the tone for the ones to follow.

Minotaur bought my book almost a year before I saw the final cover. That’s a long time to wait for important news. And when I finally saw the cover, I actually cried.

I was one of the lucky ones. I loved my cover immediately and completely, and not only because it represented the book so perfectly.

It represented something far more important—and something that neither my editor nor the cover designer knew.

My father died six months before I started writing Claws of the Cat. He knew about my passion for writing, but did not live to see my work in print. He loved mystery novels, and history, and would have adored the bantering friendship that Hiro and Father Mateo share. It’s bittersweet that he couldn’t share my success.

But in addition to books, my father loved orchids--cymbidium orchids, to be exact. And of the cymbidium orchids, the ones my father loved the most were green ones with reddish-brown spots at the center … exactly like the ones which appear on the cover of CLAWS OF THE CAT.

Orchids which didn’t appear in the concept sketch my publisher sent me, and which I had no idea would appear on the final cover. It was those orchids that made me cry. Because, although my father cannot be here to help me celebrate the launch of the book this week, the all-important cover reflects his spirit, giving it an extra, secret meaning just for me.

And now, you know the story too.

I love my cover because it fits the book and draws the eye. I love it because my publisher understood the importance of images that translate into thumbnails. But most of all, I love it because it reminds me that the people we love are always with us to share our joy, even when we cannot see them there.

Lisa again, here: Not only is the cover beautiful,  but so is Susan's writing. You can find "Claws of the Cat" at all the usual places: Amazon, Indiebound, and Barnes & Noble.

Pen-Ultimate!

Original artwork for the Pen-Ultimate cover by Chris Howard

 

A year ago at Readercon 2012, I was sitting in a hotel restaurant with several years of my fellow graduates of the Ultimate SF Workshop taught in the Boston area by Jeff Carver and Craig Shaw Gardner. As I looked around the large table, it struck me how talented a group of writers we were and I mumbled something about how we really should put together an anthology.

So I guess that meant I volunteered myself and along with my partner-in-anthology, Talib Hussain, (another hapless volunteer!) began to organize what would, a year later, become PEN-ULTIMATE: A SPECULATIVE FICTION ANTHOLOGY.

After a several month submission/reading period, the eleven stories that make up this anthology went through a cross-critique and revision process that very much honored the workshop model that we practiced with Jeff and Craig.

The project is coming together because of the work of many talented and hard-working individuals and I am proud to have my name associated with it. We are working towards a July 11th official publication date, to correspond with the start of Readercon 2013 and all proceeds from the anthology sale (both print and eBook) will be donated to the SFWA emergency medical fund.

Stay tuned for links and more information!

Learning to let the story unfold

Several of my stories are 1st person narratives from a teen voice.  They are solid stories with compelling plots. One of them was what snagged the interest of my agent, Nephele Tempest.  That book, though it garned a lot of editor attention, didn't sell.

The feedback we got from those editors talked about voice, but at the time, I wasn't sure how to fix what they saw as the flaw in what was otherwise a story they really liked.

Fast forward several manuscripts and several crit groups later. I'm in a small group with 2 other novelists.  We've gone a few rounds of meetings and they've offered me priceless feedback on two of my 1st person novels.  I think I'm finally seeing what I couldn't see before.

One of my writing 'tics' is to use narrative to summarize in order to get to what happens next.  And that summary ends up sounding not like my character's voice, but like my own, in voiceover.  My crit partners didn't put in in these terms, but what I think has to happen is that I need to let the story unfold, rather than drive it forward.  The way to do that is by deeper immersion into my character; choosing critical aspects of the story and letting the reader experience what he sees.

Here is an example of putting that into practice:

I wasn't the only one not happy to be there. Devon Smithfield was in group and he was also in just about all my classes. I guess because we're both fatherless boys, that's supposed to make us buds. At least that's what Ms. Stanhope seems to think. And long after she's gone to some other internship, I'll still be trapped in therapy group purgatory with Devon. No one's supposed to know, but his dad’s in federal jail for embezzlement. If he’s lucky, he’ll be able to see his son graduate from college. It would be a lot simpler if my dad was in prison. "Langdon?" God, I hate it when teachers call me that. Ms. Stanhope was looking down at my desk and frowning. I must’ve spaced out in group again and while my brain was busy elsewhere, my right hand was drawing. It was like last night's dream spilled out on the page. Somehow my pencil managed to capture the deep shadows lurking behind the windows and the danger twisted in the wrought iron railings.

I shuffled into the classroom and dragged one of the desks away from the semicircle Ms. Stanhope had carefully arranged. Devon Smithfield was right behind me. He sneered and took the seat at the opposite end of the room, both of us ignoring the rest of the kids. He pulled one of his earbuds out and pretended to listen to Ms. Stanhope struggle to get all of us talking. I felt sorry for her. Devon Fucking Smithfield. He was in just about all my classes. I guess because we're a pair of fatherless boys, that's supposed to make us buds. At least that's what Ms. Stanhope seems to think. Long after she's gone to some other internship, I'll still be trapped in therapy group purgatory with Devon. No one's supposed to know, but the feds sent his dad to jail for embezzlement. If he’s lucky, he’ll be able to see his son graduate from college. It would be a lot simpler if my dad was in prison. "Langdon?" God, it was bad enough that my mom called me that this morning. Ms. Stanhope was looking down at my desk and frowning. It wasn't a look that went well with her pink sweater and pearls, the blond pony tail, the sympathetic blue eyes. I was sure there was a course in social worker school on how to look completely earnest. She had probably aced it. I looked down, trying to figure out why she was singling me out. I certainly wasn't the only one who spaced out in group. But while my brain was busy elsewhere, my right hand had been drawing. It was still gripping the pencil I didn't remember taking from my bag. I forced my fingers to open. The pencil rolled across my open math notebook until it hit the metal spiral. Even closing my eyes, I couldn't avoid the image of last night's dream spilled out across the page. Somehow I managed to capture the deep shadows lurking behind the windows and the danger twisted in the wrought iron railings.

The section on the left was an older draft. The section on the right, the result of this morning's work. Any thoughts?

Musician, Reader, Critic, Teenager

On the way home from my younger son's clarinet lesson, I had an interesting conversation with him about several of my novels.  He was re-reading "House of Many Doors" (I had converted to an epub so he could have it on his ipod touch) and reminding me how much he loved this story.

In some ways, it's the story he's grown up with.  I started writing it when he was in middle school and he (and his older brother) both helped me brainstorm the story in addition to being its first readers.  In "On Writing," Stephen King talks about writing for your ideal reader.  When it comes to my YA titles, my two teens are it.  As much as I write for myself and to be honest to the story, I also write for them. 

So in the car, he told me he really liked the fact that having a haunted house be one of the characters felt completely natural.  That there was never a time in the story where he questioned why the house is what it is or does what it does.

He also said, in comparing "House" with "Future Tense," that "House" was much more of a psychological story, where "Future Tense" is an action story.  In addition, he thought that Parker (from "House") had more of a support network from the very start than Matt did ("Future Tense") and that while Parker only has to fight the haunted house, Matt has to deal with his whole world coming down on him. 

It gave me an 'aha' moment.

Parker needs to be more imperiled in "House." More has to be difficult for him.  He has to doubt himself more and struggle more.  Matt has that in spades, right from the start and it gives the story more stakes. (A word my son also used in talking about this.)

My kiddo may only be 14, but he is a thoughtful and careful reader as well as quite the critic.

How cool is that?!

The Great Balancing Act

photo by jackol/Mikhail Esteves

In recent conversations about writing, I've begun to articulate my personal 'manifesto' on what I strive for in the work.  It also informs me in my reading and formal critique.

It's the concept of the great balancing act (or why the whole literary vs genre war in the world of fiction doesn't make much sense to me).

On the one side is true emotion.  On the other, craft.  I believe they need to be in dynamic balance with one another across the tightrope, or the work falls (fails).

Emotion without craft risks work with maudlin greeting card sentimentality.  At worst, it feels manipulative, at best, angst-ridden or embarrassingly cringe-worthy.

Craft without emotion risks work that is sterile.  At worst, manipulative, exclusionary, at best, simply distancing and empty.

But work that joins true emotion with the precision of craft, regardless of genre, can create art of lasting impact and beauty.  There are poems, stories, paintings, and pieces of music I return to again and again simply to experience that beautiful and terrible balance.  Van Gogh's Sunflowers do that to me, as does hearing great swaths of Shakespeare performed aloud.  Then there is Copeland's "Fanfare for the Common Man" which never fails to send chills down my spine.

And there are books.  Stories like Madeline L'Engle's "A Wrinkle in Time" that continue to have impact in my life decades after I read it for the first time as a young teen.  Or a single line: "They were promised a man of peace." From Patricia A McKillip's "Riddle Master" series.  These are fantasy books. Genre fiction.  Perhaps not initially written to be "great" literature, and yet they both are works of artistic creation that join honest emotion to solid craft.

I am looking at my own body of work with this critical eye.  My promise to myself and to my future readers is this:

I will write with emotional honesty
I will remain true to the story and its characters
I will never manipulate or patronize my reader
I will respect my reader and the work by careful attention to craft
I will keep learning and growing as a writer

The Small and Unexpected Joys

Last year, one of my writer friends graciously volunteered to be the first reader for the first draft of "Future Tense."  Her critique was unbelievably helpful in the first pass revision.

This year, I subjected the revised manuscript to the folks in my local crit group, and their remarks were much fewer, and much more focused on just a few key areas.  I think this would never have happened if it wasn't for my first (brave!) reader.  (Thank you, Wen!)

Well, I was chatting with her, just a few minutes ago, and she told me that she still thinks about a particular scene in "Future Tense" that struck her, even in first draft, a year ago.

Isn't that what we writers want?  Crave?  Write for in the first place?

To know that I've connected with a single reader, who remembers and thinks about something I've created a year on.  Well, that's the most amazing gift I can ever receive.

I will return to the 2nd pass revision of this manuscript with a renewed eagerness.   A renewed commitment to get it right.  An added joyfulness.

Short Story Goodness

Not mine.

My 16 year old son's.

He had a choice for a creative project in his honor's English class and he chose to write a short story.  (Actually, he planned to write a series of connected stories, organized around the theme of perception, but story number 2 got away from him and he thinks it may be a novel.*  Oy vey!)

I am extremely proud of him, not only for taking a risk and writing, but also in the mature way in which he asked for and took in feedback, working on the revision process like a pro.

It's a good story.

And I'm not the only one who thinks so.  His teacher was impressed and thinks it stands a decent chance of winning a HS writing contest.  (What she said was something like 'if it didn't win, it would be a matter of taste'.)

We have never pushed our children to follow their parents' paths out of any need to live our lives through them.  We have always tried to help them find their own paths to their own futures.  But I have to say, watching my eldest find joy in writing brings me joy as well.

---
*I knew his second story would get away from him.  It's a big idea.  A very cool idea.  I wish I'd thought of it!

An honest critique; a gift beyond price

I don't typically subject my readers/crit partners to first drafts, but a writer friend had the time to offer crit on the first draft of "Future Tense."  While it is a pretty 'clean' draft in terms of the basics (grammar, basic plot, characters) it is still a first draft and as such, needs work. 

I tend to write 'lean.'  Setting and character motivation are there, but in skeletal form.  In some ways, a first draft is essentially a proof of concept. Does the whole hang together in a cohesive way?  Or to put it more bluntly, the question I ask my readers is this:  Are there any "WTF" moments that make you want to hurl the book across the room?

What I want from a first draft is a main character the reader can attach to, a story with a beginning, middle, and end, and without "WTF" moments.  If I create that, I have the structure for a solid story.

My writer friend was extraordinarily generous with her time and provided me with 5 pages of notes.  But before she sent me the file, she asked me how thick my skin was.

While my emotional self was huddled in the corner with its thumb in its mouth, my writer self was turning handsprings. 

This is why:  a solid critique is a gift beyond price. 

Do I have this fantasy that I'll write a first draft that will be flawless, that will have all the Hollywood directors lining up for the movie rights, that will win all sorts of prizes and garner a 6 figure advance?  Sure.  But magical thinking doesn't get a book written.

And if you want to play with the big boys, you have to be willing to do the hard work of tearing your manuscript apart and putting it back together again.

That's where good crit comes in. 

I believe it is nearly impossible for the writer to gain enough distance from the work to be objective enough.  Part of the process of writing is to hopelessly and utterly fall in love with the work.  Otherwise, it becomes a masochistic process to chain yourself to the word processor for something you can't stand.  And if the writer doesn't love it first, how can the reader?

So it takes an outside eye to point out the flaws and the seams.  If you find such a reader, he or she is someone to treasure. I have been fortunate enough to have several such readers in my life.  One is not a writer, but a voracious reader with keen instincts and insights into what makes a story satisfying.

This is the first critique I have received from my writer friend.  When she asked me how thick my skin was, I had a 'uh oh' moment.  But I charged ahead, letting her know I could take it and her critique was thorough, honest, and thoughtful.

It will help immensely when I tackle the revision/editing process for "Future Tense."

I am extremely grateful and hope I can return the favor.

Bringing the writing life home

My 13 year old son had an assignment to write a mystery story for his Language Arts class, after studying Sherlock Holmes in school.

As part of his assignment, he had to have readers to offer critique on the story. He chose one peer reader--a fellow student, and then asked me to be reader number 2.

This morning, he was rethinking that, and was very hesitant to have me formally critique his story.

Maybe because I'm his mom, and maybe because he's heard me rant enough about bad writing, but maybe a little of both.

I did convince him that I would be honest, but not brutal, so he shared his story with me.

You know something? It was pretty good. He had a great hook and an interesting main character. The story had a clear beginning, middle and end. Yes, it needed some work. There was a bunch of unnecessary info-dumping and he used a lot of adverbs instead of showing with non-verbal 'beats'. But aside from those issues and some pacing problems toward the end, it was a solid draft of a solid story.

I gave him some examples of how he might strengthen the piece and he went off to his computer, encouraged and prepared to do the work.

Who knows--maybe he'll follow in mom's footsteps.

Reading recommendations and disappointment, or the perils of being a writer

I just finished reading a book by an author recommended to me by a friend. (No, I won't identify the book or the author, because this isn't a review blog and my critique of this particular book isn't the point anyway.) Well, I thought it was mediocre, at best. The writing was clumsy, the language repetitive, the POV shifted continuously, and the plot jumped. If it were a film, it would feel like someone had cut frames out all over the story and then pieced the narrative back together. In addition to heavy handed plotting, the characters were 2 dimensional.

Yet it's a book that many have read and rave about. And I can see the appeal, despite the obvious flaws. After all, I did stay up late to finish the story, so the author did something right.

Perhaps once upon a time, I would have just read this book and enjoyed the story the writer was spinning. But then I started to write and hone my craft.

Now it is virtually impossible for me to simply read for pleasure. I notice craft and lack of craft. Repetitive language is tedious to read. Awkward turns of phrases pull me from the story as does characters moving through plot for the author's purpose rather than their own.

Part of me misses the time when I could just fall into the pages of a book and lose myself completely and utterly, erasing the boundary between my life and the life of the story. I don't get that simply from reading anymore. But I do get it when I am writing.

Notes to Self

No, you may not start planning out a new story before you finish *this* one. Not even if it is shiny and fun. Sorry. You don't get to skip the hard stuff.

Yes, I know the last few thousand words are hard. You know what's harder? Editing. And that's what you have in front of you.

Hey--quit whimpering. You're just feeling sorry for yourself because it's raining and there's no more coffee in the pot. Get over it.

Look, if you're having that much trouble, you could always fold the laundry or clean out your office. At least you'd be productive, instead of endless surfing for blog updates or new Facebook posts. If you can't stay focused, I will put one of those net-nanny programs on your laptop. Don't think I won't.

I know you have some cleaning up to do earlier in the manuscript. I even agree with the crit group comments--Dierdre and Galvin don't have enough screen time or importance to be 2 characters. Now isn't the time to go back and change that. If you must, make a note in the manuscript. When you do go back, it won't take all that much time or effort to make the shift. (And that is probably your take home message--if you can merge 2 characters without more than a few minutes work, you should.) It's not a big enough change to feel at all derailed in your writing. So quit moping, girl!

You've already done a good job at making Callie more real and more specific. Now quit beating yourself up at making all the Fey seem a bit generic and robotic in your first pass. That's what a good reader or crit group is for.

It's a pretty good story and if you keep working at it, it'll be better than pretty good. But it will neither write nor edit itself. So enough with the blogging.

Get back to work.

"The Between" at 44K

I don't really like to share more than snippets of a novel in progress. It feels too much like shifting from creative mind to analytical/critical mind and that can derail the writing process.

But, I also had the opportunity to move large sections of the novel through a small critique group of writers whose process I respect. So I'm doing something with "The Between" that I haven't done with any of my previous novels--critiquing as I am writing.

I tried to do this with an earlier group, with a poor outcome--I got frustrated and stopped writing the story. But that was moving much earlier, much more raw work through a different group of writers. Neither the writing, nor I were ready for that analytical mode. Now with a far clearer sense of the story and its characters, I'm finding great value in this process. And rather than go back to address my fellow writing group members' critiques, I am noting where I need to make changes and continuing, hoping that I am able to incorporate the spirit of their commentary into new writing.

So far, so good.

I spent yesterday's writing time roughly sketching out where the story needs to go in the next 3 chapters, approximately the next 10K worth of words. That should bring me to the novel's climax. I'm pretty excited about the way it's all coming together. Lydia is at a crucial decision point in her journey--one that will define the outcome of the story. There is little better than writing when the stakes are so high for your characters.

Yes, this is a changeling tale, and yes it uses many of the tropes common to fairy tales. This is material that many writers mine, but there are many elements in "The Between" that are different in this treatment of the changeling story, particularly in how the protagonist feels about her Mortal upbringing and her struggle to get back to the life she lost, and the fact that there are two points of view to mirror the differences between Fairy and the Mortal world.

Back to the writing. . .

The Power of Critique

They say (I've always wondered who gets to designate the 'they'. . .) that the first million words a writer writes are for practice--that it takes that many words to hone the craft. I don't know about the exact number, but I agree that to get better at writing, the writer needs to write.

Now, some of those words are going to be in a specific genre. Just as in athletics, there is likely some specificity in training effect here. If you want to get better at writing YA fantasy, don't practice writing police procedurals. (Yes, I've often been heard to say 'writing is writing' and I still believe that, to a point. Each genre has its conventions and you must learn them, know the cannon if you will, before you can place your own stamp on it.)

I have close to a half million words of novels written at this point, spread out in 4 complete novels and one about 1/2 to 2/3 completed. But I also think that writing up critique for other's novels can and should be part of those million words.

Why critique?

We all get too close to our words and develop horrific blindspots. We tend to make the same mistakes over and over again, until someone points them out. That would seem to be an argument for obtaining good critique from a writer or group of writers you trust. And sure, getting an excellent critique is extremely helpful. But so is giving excellent critique.

Providing critique hones your analytical brain. It helps you learn to figure out *why* something isn't working in someone else's work. That someone else is far enough out of your own headspace that you can have the necessary objectivity to assess the work. You learn to see patterns and that skill at seeing patterns is something that you can then turn to your own work.

In almost all the critique I've done, there comes a moment when I see something that exists in my own writing. Because I see it in someone else's work first means I can get over being defensive about it in my own.

The process of reading for critique is essential in troubleshooting your own work. And it will make you a better writer.

A valuable lesson about my own process

After completing 4 novels, I thought I knew a lot about my own writing process.

--I am a partial plotter, needing to know the beginning, the end and a few major waypoints in order to write a novel. As much as I would like to do something completely by the seat of my pants, my nature is not that spontaneous. I have been able to experiment with letting the story spin without any preplanning in the short story form, though it's still difficult for me.

--I am not a fast first draft writer. The thought of racing through something like NaNoWriMo fills me with dread. Letting it go and fixing it in the second draft is just not me. What does work for me is light editing of previous writing while working on pushing the story forward. Writing is a recursive process and as I write, I get to know the characters more fully which changes the writing I've already done. I know this doesn't work for a lot of writers and a lot of 'common wisdom' is that letting yourself edit as you write is a sure way to never finishing anything. That's just not been my experience. With one big caveat. . .

--I can't share what I'm writing other than in generalities. With my latest project "The Between"--a YA urban fantasy, I made the mistake of bringing the first few chapters to my critique group. It utterly derailed me from the story. While I'm writing/planning, I have to maintain that complete love affair with the new work. That's staying in my creative head. Even the light edits I do, don't take me away from the creative mindset. When I turn the work over to someone else, something in me shifts to editing mindset. That's an analytical, critical place that is at odds with the creative mindset. Bringing an unfinished story to a critique group is a bad move for me. It's taken me 3 months to find the necessary distance from my internal editor in order to return to creating story. Based on past experience, I *can* share the writing when I'm about 2/3 through the story. That seems to give me enough momentum that I won't lose the creative thread.

I'm sure I will continue to learn lessons about process as I continue to grow as a writer.

What are some of your lessons learned?

The Art of Critique and the Problem of Ego

On Wild Poetry Forum, the poetry workshop I help moderate, we are having a discussion (actually a series of ongoing discussions) about critique and what is appropriate in response to critique.

Wild has been around for a decade (ancient history for internet venues) and is a robust workshop board with hundreds of active members. It has separate sub-forums for workshopping, light, and heavy critique, and in general, polices itself quite well. In all the years I've been a participant there, there have been relatively few incidents of overt snarkiness or ad hominem attacks.

Much of that has to do with a history of close moderation and an expectation within the community that that is not what we value. Nor do we condone vanity critique. Hearing that your work is the best thing since sliced bread is as useless to growth as a writer as a personal attack.

In the past several months, we have had an influx of new members who don't seem interested in participating in the community, rather, they react defensively to critique and spend too much time and energy justifying their work and not enough time critically examining their own process. There is a small sub group that posts, essentially, for one another's admiration and argues with anyone who thinks otherwise.

I don't understand that kind of behavior.

When I ask for feedback, it is the critical, thoughtful response I crave. What I need to know is what isn't working for the reader and what is. If there is consensus among a large number of voices, I can be more certain of my path to revision. This is not to say I write by committee or agree with every critique. BUT, I do listen. I do take it in. And without defensiveness.

If I can't hear critical feedback with an open heart, then I am denying the creative process. Even critiques I do not agree with are valuable. They tell me how a reader has interpreted a piece of writing. I write, not for my own ego, but to be received by a reader. It is an interdependent process, for the most part, separated by space and time. If I put a poem or a story out into the world, I rarely get feedback from the reader. But in a workshop model, I can bring that interaction into real time.

I am also part of a in-real-life critique group for fiction writing. At our last meeting, one of the members prefaced his comments with an apology for being so 'tough'. To my way of thinking, no apology was needed. What I received from him is what I seek: honest feedback, given in the spirit of improving the work.

In order for critique to provide that essential feedback loop, there needs to be authenticity on both sides: both the writer and the reviewer need to understand that it is not about ego, not about proving oneself smarter or better, or snarkier, but about honoring the creative process.

In that kind of environment, true artistic growth can and does happen.

And isn't that what we seek as artists?

Workshop and holding onto the dream

I'm taking a writing workshop geared for SF&F writers on tuesday nights. It's been an interesting experience to write for someone other than me and my own whims. On the one hand, between the assigned readings, exercises, and crits of my fellow attendees' piece, I don't have much time or energy left for starting a new project. On the other hand, the workshop is pushing me to take some risks with my writing and write out of my comfort zone. In just a few weeks, I have the bones of 3 short stories.

As I've written several times over the past few months, I feel like I'm in limbo with my writing. I've completed 4 novels and a bunch of short stories. I've gotten nibbles of interest--honorable mentions on the shorts for Writers of the Future and several requests for the full of my YA novel, "The House of Many Doors." I am hoping that this workshop will help me plan out my next steps. I think I'm close to some kind of breakthrough with my writing. The pattern/trend seems to be taking me closer to publication. What I don't know is how far I am from it and what work I need to do to bridge that gap.

I know I have the discipline. Ditto for the ideas. My writing is essentially clean and I am not resistant to feedback or the editing process. I also have no illusions about the publishing industry, nor do I believe that once I get past the hurdles of agent and book sale, my life will be perfect and we'll be richer than Rowling.

It's not about that.

It's never been about that.

My dream, my goal has always been clear: I have this image in my mind of stepping on a bus, train, or plane and seeing a reader happily lost in the pages of one of my books. That's probably been my overriding dream since I first discovered the magic of books in childhood.

So I'm telling the universe--I'm ready. I'll be here quietly working away, writing, editing, improving my craft. You know how to reach me, right?