Showing posts with label submission. Show all posts
Showing posts with label submission. Show all posts

Sunday, March 29, 2015

The Writer’s Maze: WiPs and Chains




No, I’m not talking about 50 Shades in this episode! Although, that could be fun…
No! No. Get your head out of the clouds and get back to work.

For this installment of The Writer’s Maze I want to talk about our WiPs (for those of you who don’t know, these are not long leather straps that writer’s hit each other with. They’re our ideas, our babies, our Works in Progress). I have about a million of these lyin’ about on various computers and thumb drives. And here’s where we’ll start this maze…
The beginning.
Those very first intimate moments, between writer and a new idea, are glorious. It’s like new love…only better. Because in that first instance when a new idea strikes you think, “Well, that’s it! I am brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. That idea is just so freaking clever, no way anyone’s ever thought of it before.” You walk around in a cloud, putting the milk in the cupboard and the toaster in the fridge, because your left brain is so engaged in the creative juices that you can’t possibly function in the real world. You scribble notes on everything, including the chalkboard on the fridge, the grocery list in your purse, your child’s drawing, until you finally have to begin the outline.
The outline.
Ugh. The outline is where the euphoria starts to wane, but you still think your idea is epic and fresh. You ignore the nagging voice that pipes up saying, “That’s not going to work,” and you fight to keep the initial adrenaline alive. Because you remember what the beginning felt like. And then you wonder, after scrounging all of your scattered notes, what am I forgetting? Was this my original idea? Where is the brilliance?
The middle.
And this is where the chains begin to cinch around your wrists, holding your fingers on the keyboard in stubborn bondage as you kick, scream and cry to make that first idea a reality of literary perfection (NOTE: If you’re chasing literary perfection, give up now, it doesn’t exist). The middle of this maze is the development, the exposition of characters and plot. The setting and world building (because you ignore the giant gaping holes you discovered in your outline phase) where you catch small glimpses of your beginning genius. Your characters might be sound, your dialog intriguing, your sentence structure purple and flowing, but you haven’t yet admitted to yourself that none of these things will matter once you enter the next tunnel of the maze.
The story arc.
And here’s where we grab the eraser and smudge out the notes still glaring at us from the chalkboard on the refrigerator. Once we have grown attached to our protagonist and antagonist and we’re invested in their lives, we realize that our plot and/or subplot don’t really work. There’s no way event A would lead to event B, at least not believably. But, if you’re like me, you tell yourself, “That’s a bunch of crap. Believability comes from good writing. I just have to write it better.” So, on you trudge (ignoring the little voice calling you a fool), peppering your WiP with eloquent prose and vivid details. Though, even your characters are trying to tell you it’s not working.
The ending.
And when you finally reach the page where you get to write THE END, you only feel empty. “I’ll fix it in revision,” you tell the computer screen. But the roiling pit in your stomach begs you to just junk the entire manuscript and save yourself the months of head-banging frustration that is sure to come with plot holes the size of the Hoover Dam. In the end, whether the manuscript is good or bad, you set it aside (because this is the best advice, honest) and put it out of your head for a month or two (or longer depending on if you’ve moved on to your next WiP or not).
Revision.
This is a very long (for some, not for all) process, because in this portion of the maze you find conflicting directions and can actually find yourself roaming around in circles with no idea of how to get through. In the revision phase you tweak and fuss, cleaning up every little corner, but no matter how much you sweep away the garbage and fluff up the grit, you still seem to find something else that could be improved. It never ends. But BEWARE you can tweak too much and do more damage than good. The best idea is to revise with intent.
Revising with intent.
·         Allow yourself a set number of revisions before you send the WiP to critique partners and beta readers. I do about 3 revisions for this phase.
·         One, big picture layout. Does the story follow the formula for that genre? Is the story pacing right for that genre? Is the story following the arc, or does it meander off track (my nemesis)?
·         Two, authenticity of character and dialog. World building. Is it all believable?
·         Three, tidy up grammar and messy tidbits left over from previous revisions.
Now, send it off to someone else. This is, perhaps, the most important part of the writing process. The part where you, the writer, do nothing but chew your fingernails off while you wait – stalking your inbox hourly – to hear what your trusted friends and allies thought of your “brilliance.” Again, I must warn you. DO NOT OVERTHINK this. You want your crit partners to rip it apart, of course we all hope they don’t need to, but the reality is that if they don’t they’re probably not being honest (in which case you need new crit partners). Yes, you want to know if your WiP has potential and yes you want to know that your idea – the one that got you jazzed enough to write it in the first place – is solid and worth continuing the revision process. If you get the go-head once your baby comes home, you’re good to begin revising from their notes. And here is my advice on that.
·         DO NOT (under any – okay, most – circumstances) GET OFFENDED. These are the thoughts and honest opinions of people who took the time to read your work (and at this stage it isn’t always easy to get through someone else’s unfinished work) and make detailed suggestions. They are not trying to hurt your feelings or insult you. They are trying to help you find the spots in your WiP that could be stronger. That is all. The best way is to read the comments with an open mind and then walk away. DO NOT go right into revision. Let the comments sink in first, let that knee-jerk reaction settle, and then come back to tackle the process of fixing problems areas.
What to do when you get multiple suggestions. This is inevitable and difficult to navigate. Once you’ve sent your WiP to a handful of people, you’re going to get a bucket-load of conflicting advice back. Some people are going to like your writing just as it is. Here’s where you get to take creative control. That time you took to absorb all of the advice, that’s going to work in your favor here. Now you get to chose, either you’ll decide that first person (the one who insulted your ego) was right, or you can snub your nose at them and ignore their advice. This is entirely up to you. I will tell you though, that some of my best writing has come out of the changes I’ve made to a WiP that I was resistant to. Chose carefully. Don't chain yourself to only one possibility, you might find greatness if you cut the old idea loose.

And now you’ve done it. Congratulations, you’ve clawed your way through this phase of the Writer’s Maze.
The maze continues here: The Writer's Maze: What a Zoo!

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

What Writer’s Do with Their Time



Part of the immense fun of being a writer is the super exhilarating…

…wait.

That’s right. Much of a writer’s life is spent in a waiting flux.

Some people may think that sounds like a huge boring snooze-fest…but not the writer – NO! NO! – this waiting is just part of the fun.  

[NOTE: If you’ve been a writer for a while, this post will confirm that you’re not crazy and if you’re working on your first manuscript…refer to this post when your hair starts to fall out.]

Wait number one: When we’re drafting a manuscript, life is at an all-time-high. Our ideas fly with beautiful brilliance from our fingertips and fill the once pristine pages with stories we believe will surely find a home on every bookshelf. We can’t wait to share our masterpiece with the world. [If you’re a newbie scribe, please wait. I’m begging you. Wait and read on.]



Wait number two: Once the first draft is complete, there is a wait before we edit. Why? Because the longer we’re away from our masterpiece, the more realistic vision we’ll have when we return. During this wait, most writers begin another masterpiece. Repeat Wait number one.

Wait number three: It’s time to edit, it’s been a few weeks and we just know when we open our manuscript the eloquent prose that we loved so dearly will need little to no revisions. Unfortunately, that is rarely true. Nope, once we remove those rose-colored drafting goggles and gaze at the excess drivel we thought was so fantastic before, we realize eighty-percent of it is complete sludge, not fit for even the most gracious of critique partners. We would die if anyone read this crap!

Wait number four: Finish the first, second, third, fourth and fifth rounds of revisions it takes to cement all that brilliance into cohesive sentences so that anyone, not suffering from dementia, might understand our plot.

Wait number five: Finally, we can send the manuscript to our most-precious couldn’t-live-without-them critique partners. We’ve waited months to get here and we hit send with such great satisfaction…only to realize seconds later that we are once again in a do-nothing holding pattern. 

Wait number six: Repeat Wait numbers one through five on new masterpiece until critique(s) are ready.

Wait number seven: This wait is particularly fragile. It can either propel us forward with the speed of light or send us to the liquor store in our pajamas. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle, our manuscripts come back with encouraging words…but also pages and pages of bright red markings. THIS IS GOOD! Our critique partners were never wearing our rose-color drafting goggles and can see much more clearly. Thank them!



Wait number nine: [YES, I skipped Wait number eight because so did you when you left your manuscript on your desktop unopened for three weeks after glancing at the amount of edits needed.] Good revisions. This step is VERY important. When we’re ready to face our demons and take a good look at what our skillful partners-in-lunacy have told us. This is where we turn our slop into a masterpiece. FINISH POLISHING! 

Wait number ten: Send revised masterpiece back to critique partners for the thumbs up to query. If we get a yes-it’s-time-to-send-it, we move on to Wait number eleven. If we get a needs-a-little-more-work, we repeat Wait number nine before passing GO.

Wait number eleven: Query. [The query in itself is its own masterpiece and requires Wait numbers one through ten.] Once our query is given the green light, we send it out [click here to read What to Expect When You’re Expecting a Response to Your Query].

Wait number twelve: Submitting our babies is just that. We send our little ones out into the big bad world and pray they will be received with love and appreciation. And this can take months, but never fear…this is where the real wait, the hopeful- narcissistic-wait [the best wait of all] comes in. Now is the time to get comfortable and settle in for what will surely haunt us for the rest of our lives…because this is only the beginning of the writer’s wait.

To Be Continued...

 





Monday, August 15, 2011

Persistent Resolve and Give Away!

This is the face I make when writing  a query letter...



This is the sign that blinks in my mental rear-view mirror after I hit send... 




 

After one Dear Author form rejection, three days and three glasses of wine later, I see this around the bend in my future...




 

And in honor of the challenges of convincing an agent to read my manuscript, I'm giving away...

 

Beauty Queens by Libba Bray



 

...Because my friend from http://lacherenda.blogspot.com/ taught me how much an author can touch an audience. 

 

Libba Bray and

LaCherenda


If you would like to WIN BEAUTY QUEENS, leave a comment in this thread and tell me how your life would have been different if a particular author would have given up and not been published. 


 

Leave your email and name and of course - I always love it when you spread the word.

 

Contest ends August 31 at midnight.

 

Good luck!


 



Thursday, August 11, 2011

The Writer's Maze: What Attending a Writer's Conference is Really Like



After months of planning and tweeting with your writer friends for the BIG EVENT to come, it does. You print your boarding pass at home and head to the airport with your itinerary in hand. You tag your luggage and weigh it in, praying you’re under the fifty pound weight limit. It’s not, of course, because you’ve taken four pairs of extra shoes (in case you feel like wearing them, but probably won't) and books you want to have signed. The agent behind the ticket counter tells you to take out two pounds and she’ll let the fifty-two pounds slide, so you shove more weight into your already heavy carry-on and slug it over your shoulder and kiss your wonderful spouse goodbye heading toward the security check point.



“Bye, love you too. Yes, I’ll call or text and let you know I made it. Okay, bye-bye.” You say and forget the conversation the second you turn around, because the friends you’re meeting at the conference are texting and now you’re all jittery again with the extreme high of joining other people who suffer from the same psychosis you do, and that makes you feel less narcissistic. 

Once you’ve schlepped two or three miles to your gate, you now have a permanent groove in your shoulder from your bag that is too heavy and your realize you need coffee because it’s four a.m. and it just hit you that it’s still dark outside and you shouldn’t be awake. Naturally, you passed Starbucks ten gates ago.



After trudging back and forth to get something that tastes more like curdled motor oil, you march back to your gate and realize flying to Los Angeles at five o’clock in the morning isn’t ideal, because it is also the destination of families with small children heading that magical place where dreams come true and every child that will be sitting next to you in the cabin knows they’ll be seeing their favorite characters soon. So you make sure you buy the headphones once on the plane in hopes of drowning out their hyper squeals of joy.



During the flight, you’re semi-comfortably enjoying a movie, the earphones are working pretty well until the small TV in the seat in front of you stops working. Not all the TV’s, just the ones in the section you’re sitting in. You try reading, but it’s too loud. You try listening to music with the headset you purchased. The selection of stations isn’t great so you settle on spa music, knowing every time you get a massage after this, the music will be tainted. But you need to relax now. You’re heading to a four day workshop intensive event with some of the biggest names in the literary industry, you can’t start twitching yet. 

Ah, but you survive. You arrive at LAX and it’s under construction.  An hour later you find your way to the baggage claim area, to discover your luggage did not. It’s still across the country, doing who knows what with other bags that’ve lost their way. Your airline assures you they’ll send it to your hotel.
Your friends are coming in on another airline, which means they’re miles away and have to take a shuttle to reach you from the other side of the airport. 



Finally, you’re all together and you’ve arrived at your hotel (by way of crowded shared van). Not the hotel the conference is held in, you thought you’d be smart and save some money. You’re hotel isn’t fancy but that’s okay, you won’t be spending much time there anyway. It’s not until you take a practice run in the taxi, that seven miles roundtrip everyday is going to add fifty collars a day to your tab. Egh, oh well, it’s still cheaper and there’s three of you splitting the cost. Cool. Let the party begin.

Lindsay Cummings - Cherie Stewart - Candie Campbell


You set your alarm and get to the hotel for the conference registration and realize you’re not alone. Thirteen hundred other people are there to learn with you. Awesome. But how will you ever meet everyone? How will you ever find that illusive agent you’ve been looking forward to meeting? Those questions plague you as you’re herded into an enormous ballroom for the very first keynote speech. 

Candie Campbell - Lindsay Cummings - Cherie Stewart



That’s when you know, it doesn’t matter if you meet anyone while you’re here, you feel like you’re part of some elite family just being in the same room with people like Judy Blume, Richard Peck, Libba Bray, Bruce Coville, and Laurie Halse Anderson, just to name a few.

Lindsay Cummings - Henry Winkler - Stephanie Funk - Candie Campbell


For the next eight hours you scribble notes in your journal, you converse with your friends about the great information and inspiration and then it happens … you meet an agent. It’s okay, you have your pitch ready, you’ve been reading their blog for months, you know their tastes and you think you’re right for their list and you want to tell them, “Here I am, I came here to meet you. I have this great project that you’ll be thrilled to see.” But what you really say is … “Hi.” That’s it. All the things that sounded so cool in your head three thousand miles ago, are gone. Your vocabulary forgot to accompany you to the conversation. The agent is kind as they look at you like, “Yes?” And you say, “I read your blog.”

Candie Campbell


Eventually you get your awkward pitch out and you think next time, you’ll be cool, next time you’ll say something prophetic and poignant. You don’t of course, because the opportunity is gone. The rest of the conference is spent kicking yourself for blowing it and trying to keep your brain from exploding due to overload of massive amounts of brilliant advice. 

But all is not lost, even though you’ve waited to meet that agent to pitch your manuscript to, there’s always the query letter. You have to write one anyone, even if they would’ve liked your pitch. You survive the parties, the workshops, the keynote speeches, cab drivers, the eight dollar bottles of water and you get back to the airport to go home, feeling both bedraggled and refreshed. Yes, at the same time. You can’t decide which is the more dominate emotion either. 

Cherie Stewart - Lindsay Cummings - Candie Campbell

You do know one thing, you can’t wait to be home in your own bed with your spouse you’ve barely remembered to call for five days and just as you’re about to land … the Captain announces there is a storm and the plane is in a holding pattern waiting. The next announcement says the plane is low on fuel and has to refuel before resuming its storm waiting holding pattern. But, at the last minute before landing in another state, the Captain announces he’s been given clearance and will be landing with what little fuel is left despite the lighting flashing outside your window. Cool.

But, your journey’s not over. You’re next flight has been delayed. You find your gate, on the other side of the airport with your ridiculous carry-on (which is even heavier now because you bought more books), and you make some new friends crammed on every available floor space. More bad news, your plane’s not leaving until the next morning. You have eight hours, unless … you do it. You call your spouse, get them out of bed, and ask them to drive two hours (one way) to come get you and your new friends.

Mr. Candie Campbell - my love and best friend


Thank goodness, at least you managed to find someone who loves you and wants to spend the rest of their life with you. When you eventually get home and lay down, you think … someday, maybe I’ll find an agent who loves me as much.