In Part 1, I talked about why we write and why receiving a critique can be so difficult and in Part 2 we discussed what a critique is.

I’ve seen critiques gone bad – so bad that when the author tried to incorporate everyone’s suggestions, he ruined his own story and in another instance, the writer gave up writing for a while. Sometimes it’s hard to find the right group of people or even one person, who understands that observations and comments that help strengthen your work do not need to include wholesale shredding,

So, how to avoid a critique disaster?

What you can do to prepare yourself:

1) The most important thing for you, the author, to remember is that the critique helps you to switch hats – from the creative to the editorial. Remember that creative ALWAYS needs editorial and creative is usually scared to death of editorial. That is why some authors put their stories away for a while before embarking on the editorial journey – to give their creative sides time away from the work so that they can approach the revision and editing process more objectively.

2) Submit your best work and understand what type of critique you are looking for: a reader’s critique, a line by line critique or both? A reader’s critique is one in which the reader tells you what is working and what isn’t, where she was engaged and what threw her out of the story. The points listed at the end of this article can help guide the reader on what to look for.  A line by line critique happens when all the other elements of the story are working well and the manuscript is is reviewed for consistency in language, metaphors, grammar, excess wording, etc. Generally, good critiquers will not give you a line by line critique unless they know this is more than a first draft. They can tell that by how strongly your story holds together in terms of plot, consistency, style, character and setting. Only then will they focus on line-by-line edits to polish the story.

2) Understand that some people can’t help but shred, rewrite and go beyond what is asked for. Take what you need and leave the rest but for goodness sake, don’t take it personally! Have confidence in your work and move on. Know that you can’t and don’t have to use everyone’s suggestions.

3) Know you may disagree with someone’s comments but do not take issue or become defensive. Instead become curious as to why they made those comments. Was there a misunderstanding or misinterpretation of some sort? If so, the reason for the comments may need to be addressed. Sometimes a person’s comments may simply be wrong. They may offer bad or unwelcome suggestions or see problems where they don’t exist or miss existing problems. Ultimately, you must choose the feedback that works for you.

4) Understand who is critiquing. Not everyone may be familiar with the nuances of the genre you are writing in or the age level you are targeting and that may pose problems. Short story writers and novelists may have different views on pacing, description, speed of character or plot development. You need to understand the person who is responding to your work to give their comments appropriate context.

5) Above all, be respectful and gracious. This person took time from their other activities to help you.

What you can do to prepare others:

1) Tell them what stage this is in. First draft? Final draft needing polishing before submission? This should include information about the intended market such as Writers of the Future submission, YA novel, adult historical fantasy, etc.

2) Be clear about what you are looking for – first draft I always ask for a reader’s critique. What is working? What keeps you in the story? What isn’t working? What throws you out? Do the character’s actions ring true?

3) It’s good to tell others where you have concerns. For example, 1) I’ve rewritten the beginning several times and am not happy with it. What’s working or not working? Is this the right place to start the story? 2) Does the science make sense? Is the world I’ve created consistent and credible?

Here are some points used by writers and in critique groups that I belong to. Use them to help focus the questions you want answered, or if you’re looking at someone’s work, use them as guidelines of things to look for. Some will use this as a template, while others may only touch upon pertinent points.

General impressions: An overview of what worked and what didn’t; critiquer’s theory of theme, premise & plot summary; first impressions on title, emotional response, stumbles, questions and expectations; if the story is satisfying; and  how well does the title work?

Plot:
It the problem clearly stated?
Is there a full story arc?
Does the opening/hook work?
Is there rising action & a climax?
Is the resolution complete?
Did something change?
Are there plot holes?
Does each scene work?
Is there appropriate revelation throughout the story?

Consistency:
Are there places where suspension of disbelief fails?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Does the narrative flow with proper pacing, rhythm?
Is there sufficient conflict (of all types)?

Style:
Is the style of writing appropriate?
Is an appropriate narrative tone used?
Is dialogue stilted or otherwise out-of-place?
Is there a proper balance of narrative and dialogue?
Is there appropriate narrative tension?
Is Point of View consistent? The best choice or mix?
Is tense consistent?

Character:
Sufficiently developed & distinct?
Do they speak with distinct voices?
Do they change?
Do they have believable motivations & behaviors?
Are there too many characters?
Do they have appropriate names?
Do they have strengths & weaknesses?
Are the interesting?
Is at least one character sympathetic?

Setting:
Is it complete or full of holes?
If a character, is it fully developed?

Technique summary:
Are there technical problems? (its vs it’s?)

Remember that the purpose of the critique is to help us polish the gem of our story until it sparkles in its brilliance. So, keep your eye on the prize, have confidence in what you’re doing, revise, polish and above all, submit your work!

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We’ve all done it. We finish our manuscript, think we’ve done our self-editing, followed submission guidelines, we hit Send, and then…oops. We should have done__________.

I had a completely different post written out for today. One with lots of links to books, and workshops, and what to do and not to do, and it sounded patronizing–not the customer kind, but the looking down your nose kind. I mean, let’s be real. I think I’m a good writer, maybe even a great writer someday, but I’m no editor. Every time I go to send a query, send out my next novel, or write up a series synopses, I think I’m going to hyperventilate. Why? Because, I almost always forget something. I have an editing checklist, but it’s changed over the last couple of years, improved, and yet I’m realizing right now, I’ve never actually updated it. Most of the checklist is in my head and for me, that’s not the safest nor the most reliable location. So for my sake, and I hope this helps someone else, here’s a revised self-editing checklist. This is my list for end-of-the-line editing, not the content editing or even the full line-editing list. Maybe we can do those another time, but it’ll be a much longer post.

Basic Formatting:

• One-inch margins
• 12-pt Times New Roman font
• Double-spaced
• No spaces before or after paragraphs (check to be sure)
• first-line indent
• Header with last name/title/page #
• Correct title page with contact information, Word count, and title done correctly
• Chapter Heading one-third down the page with page breaks between chapters (but no blank pages)

My Particular problems:

• No extra spaces between words/before paragraphs
• Search and replace or delete over-used favorite words, like “just”
• Check for improper usage of past and past-perfect tense.  (This became an issue when I read a lot of YA books with this problem, so now I especially check to make sure it doesn’t seep into my own writing–Thank you David Farland for pointing this out.)

Problems to watch for, learned from David Farland’s workshops:

• forward and toward, not forwards and towards (That’s American English vs. British English)
• Check usage of  ”and, then, finally, felt, saw, look, that”  Get rid of them whenever possible
• Use spell-check
• Check “-ly” adverbs–There should be few, if any
• Have I read the manuscript out loud, at least once?
• Did I change the font and read the manuscript in order to catch less-noticeable errors?

And a few extra:

• A basic spell-check
• Re-read the publisher’s or agent’s specific requirements
• Include appropriate letters (query, cover letter, synopsis)
• correct postage for snail mail
• proper formatting for electronic submissions
• If I cut and pasted from another submission, change editor/agent name, word count, work’s title, name of magazine/agency, and all other details.

And NOW, it might be ready. This seems like a lot, but I think I’ve forgotten almost all the points on this list, or have almost forgotten them, at least once when sending to agents and publishers. I wish I’d put this together years ago, but then I don’t think I knew half the items on this list years ago. I hope this helps someone, and I’d love to add anything I’ve forgotten, so if you think of something please leave a comment.

Happy Writing!

 

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In my first published novel (I’ve only had the one, but hey, I’m nothing if not an optimist), I originally set out to write a book that would subvert expectations in that it had no romantic subplot whatsoever. It was about three men setting out on a globe-trotting adventure. No icky girl cooties here! There was lots of questing, but alas, no love story. Well, after a few beta readers got through with it, I caved and added one—and you know what? In that case, the book was better for it.

Then, last summer, I sat down to begin work on a new novel. In the first chapter, I introduce two characters—one of them a man, the other a woman. They’re co-workers, archaeologists working together on a dig in South America. The two characters aren’t romantically involved. They’re just friends.

Well, by Chapter Five I found myself inadvertently writing a paragraph about the man admiring the woman from behind and acknowledging that he’d always been attracted to her.

Whoa! I thought to myself. Where did that come from?

Maybe Harry Burns was right. In When Harry Met Sally, one of the most iconic romantic comedies of all time, Billy Crystal’s character starts off spouting his theory (though he calls it fact) that a man and a woman can’t just be friends. Ignoring the hetero-normative caveat here, his ideas are met with stiff resistance. Every time I watch this movie, I cheer when Sally sets him straight. I mean, what a load of crap! Of course men and women can be friends. My own life is exploding with opposite-sex platonic friendships.

So, it is with great dismay that I watch as the movie progresses to Harry ultimately being proven correct. Perhaps it’s true that men and women can’t “just be friends,” but Harry and Sally eventually fall in love in dramatic Hollywood fashion. (Sorry, folks; no spoiler warnings for twenty-five-year-old movies. Them’s the breaks.) I’m quite the sentimentalist at heart, so this is most likely the only time I’ve actively rooted against a romantic-comedy couple overcoming the odds and making it work. I just don’t like the underlying message.

Indeed, I am a big proponent of platonic relationships in fiction. And yet, I am forced to look at my track record. As in the two examples cited above, I started off writing romance-free relationships and ended up reversing course. I guess that makes me a hypocrite.

The thing is, romance is easy. Now, when I say that, I don’t mean to imply that writing romance doesn’t come with its share of challenges. On the contrary, as the people charged with the uncomfortable task of reading my first drafts know all too well. I’m not the world’s best romance writer. I have to put in two or three times the usual effort for my romantic liaisons to really jump off the page—in a good way, that is.

So why do I say it’s easy? Well, romantic feelings are a wonderful and effective way of motivating your characters to take action. Love causes people to climb mountains, swim oceans, and reach for the stars. The death of a loved one, in particular, can set your story on fire—and this was my motivation, however misguided, for linking my star-crossed archaeologists. You see, in the absence of love, an author has to dig a lot deeper to figure out why characters behave as they do. Adding romantic subplots to spur along a waning story or character is a default move, and it can be used as a crutch when handled inelegantly.

If you are to get your reader deeply invested in a platonic relationship, you’re going to need to get creative. Could When Harry Met Sally have been a satisfying movie if the two characters had merely turned out to be best friends who never developed feelings for each other at all? I’d like to say yes, but I don’t think I’m alone in having a hard time imagining it.

My experiences and observations show me that if it’s true that love makes the world go round, then friendship is the glue that keeps it from coming apart as it hurdles through space at thirty kilometers per second. In other words, friendship is, at its core, stronger. Which is a bit ironic. Friendships, historically, last longer than marriages.

By tapping into the reasons why this is true, we can find a number of ways to guide the creation of compelling opposite-sex platonic relationships. So, let’s get to those reasons!

For one thing, best friends are less likely to keep secrets from each other than romantic partners. As any dramatist knows, secret-keeping is fuel to the plot engine. But guy-and-gal friendship combos are most likely going to be co-protagonists (or co-antagonists, which can be extra spicy), meaning the question of whether or not their friendship will survive calamity doesn’t need to be at the core of your story. It can be, but it doesn’t need to, whereas lovers can hardly ever get through a story without getting muddied at some juncture. The vulnerability and honesty of friends-only pairings actually allows us to cheer for them and relate more readily. A best friend can be the haven in the midst of heavy drama.

In a friendship situation, we are more likely to drop our masks and just be ourselves. If sex and/or a relationship isn’t on the table, what do we have to lose? A man who isn’t trying to woo a woman needn’t work so hard for her to like him, meaning we’ll get a better chance of seeing who he really is. What you see is what you get. The same is true for women, who also are likely to keep their cards close to their chest when there’s a risk of suffering a broken heart. When the chance of rejection is low, the real character comes out—and in fiction, that’s exactly the kind of scenario into which we want to coax our characters. Transparency is a virtue!

The mistake you might make is creating friendships without love. But strong friendships are built on intense love… just not the romantic/erotic love we are more likely to recognize. And if you think I’m making a case for writing friendships without dramatic undertones, think again. The threat of losing a best friend will drive a character to extreme lengths just as strongly—perhaps even more so—than the threat of losing a lover, especially if that friend has been around for a long time. The risk of losing that kind of honesty, vulnerability, and transparency can be devastating.

Returning to the real world, my best friend happens to be a woman, and it sometimes feels as though we have been friends since the dawn of time. We don’t see each other nearly as often as we like, since we now live very far apart, but our bond is tight. The last time we saw each other, just after Christmas, our conversation took an interesting turn.

After dinner one evening, she put down her fork and asked, “What’s the dealbreaker?”

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“Well, what would I have to do for you to end our friendship? You know, the dealbreaker.”

Silence set in. I honestly couldn’t think of anything. After all, we had been through a lot, surviving hundreds of fights and come out stronger every time. Nothing was ever bad enough to drive a wedge between us.

“What if I murdered someone?” she prompted.

I thought about that. Honestly, my bond with her was so strong that even murder wouldn’t change the way I felt about her. The only real dealbreaker I could imagine is if she insisted that I help cover it up or dispose of the body, and even that would depend on the motive for the crime.

And that’s what I mean. Platonic relationships are true partnerships. In fiction, romantic couples are constantly cheating on each other, breaking up, and getting back together. They’re famously inconstant. But when men and women leave romance out of the picture? Well, that’s kismet.

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Did you every have one of those stories that you know “missed it by that much”? I did. While there were some obvious fixes I knew I needed (like beefing up my descriptions), there was a fundamental flaw in the story that I couldn’t get my hands around. The story was sick and needed help. So, I took my baby to a professional.

Let me back up for a second, the story I’m talking about is my trunk novel. I’ve been picking at it for far too long. The first draft was well over 300,000 words. I know. I know. So, I broke it into three books. The problem was that the first book’s story arc was high on the Character quotient of Orson Scott Card’s MICE scale. For those who don’t know, I’m going to vastly oversimplify this. Card broke stories down to four archetypes – Milieu (setting), Issue, Character, and Event.  A character story is mostly concerned with the character’s internal journey. So, the book ended when my main character transitioned from spoiled, self-centered twit to taking responsibility for the greater community, and before the promised big battle.  A lot of the comments I received was that “nothing happened” in the story. So, books one and two became book 1. But I still had what I called a “pacing” problem. I didn’t know how to fix it. Hence, the trip to the book doctor.

The book doctor of choice and the stated course of therapy? David Farland’s Novel Rewriting Seminar. Dave is a New York Times Bestselling writer who has been translated into many languages and trained a number of #1 New York Times bestsellers, like Brandon Mull, Brandon Sanderson, and Stephenie Meyer.  His latest novel, NIGHTINGALE, has won eight awards. So, the ability to hear him speak, much less take a class from him, is an amazing opportunity.

This seminar focuses on editing. In order to attend, you have to submit a sample to Dave and be accepted. You’re committing to a lot of homework, both before and during the workshop. We had a reading list which ensured all participants were starting with the same base knowledge.

All participants send in the first 100 pages and a synopsis of their stories. Part of the pre-seminar homework is to read the first 20 pages and synopsis of the other workshop stories. Getting to read and critique other stories, when you do so honestly, is a learning experience. What do I mean by “critiquing honestly”? I mean not cutting down a story just to cut it down. Your plan should always be to help the writer improve the story. realizing that your comments are just your opinion and you’re not any smarter or better than any other writer. Use critiquing as a way to help someone, but also as a means of seeing what you are doing that might be hurting your own writing.

The work doesn’t end when you get to the workshop. This isn’t a seminar where you can sit back and zone out. Each day, we went over two or more of the workshop stories, discussed story structure and elements, and were given homework that applied the topics discussed. We each left with 10 other perspectives on our story. Another fabulous excercise we did was disecting the story-telling elements in The Hunger Games movie. Many of the workshop participants would go out to lunch or dinner together. We built a community there.

Each participant meets with Dave to go over his comments on the first 100 pages of your novel. I have to say the time spent with Dave was worth far more than the price of admission. Not only is he a genuinely wonderful person, but he has so much insight and experience over the entire entertainment industry. I could have spent hours talking to him about everything from game design to movie making to publishing, and barely dipped my toes in the well of information and experience that he has.  Dave pointed out some of the things I knew needed work – my descriptions of places and people were thin. But he also articulated the bigger problem I was having, and a way to address it.

What was the best thing about the workshop? That’s a hard question. The people I met there are wonderful. The knowledge I gained was invaluable. But, I have to say the best thing about the workshop was leaving knowing what I had to do, and that I could accomplish it.

Dave has a workshop for whereever you are in your writing career. He has a host of new writing classes scheduled for 2013 available at www.davidfarland.com/writing workshops.  These range from his new Short Fiction Master’s Class, to his Million-Dollar Outlines, Novel Revision class, and Fiction Mastery Class. While there is some overlap between the seminars, each focuses on a different aspect of the craft of writing. I can’t wait to attend some of the other ones.

As if the workshops weren’t  cool enough, if you go to to any of his workshops and mention that “I heard about it through the Fictorians,” Dave will buy you a free dinner with him (if time allows), or he’ll give you $20.

If you have the choice between dinner with Dave or $20, take the dinner. Every time.

So please check out his workshops here.

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Hey diddle diddle

the cat and the fiddle

the cow jumped over the moon

the little dog laughed to see such a sport and

the dish ran away with the spoon

Okay, it’s all fun and games when the dish runs away with the spoon, but not so much when it’s your character who’s running off with your story. Or at least what you thought was your story.

As a discovery writer, I tend to have my stories overtaken by events. I’ve had a character yell at me that while he could be a cold blooded killer, there was no way he was going to kill that girl for that reason. When he refused, it changed everything. I have to say he was right when I looked at it, but still, what do you do?

Moments like that when my characters talk to me, heck, when they rebel are part of the reason I’m a discovery writer. For the most part, I let them take me for the ride and then see what I ended up with in editing. But sometimes the tangent the characters want to travel down isn’t one they should. Or, as often happens to me, my short story becomes a novella, becomes a novel, becomes a trilogy. Sigh. I’m in the middle of that now with New Bohemia: Just One Night.  When I started that story, it was a short that kept interrupting my ability to work on a novel. So, I figured what the heck, I’ll write the short and get it out of my system. That was months ago. At 60,000 words, the story isn’t so short anymore because I decided I needed to kill off my main character’s parents in a way she’s going to feel responsible for the deaths.  The story didn’t derail so much as I added a twist to make my characters’ break-up make sense.

 As I see it, the trick is knowing when the diversion adds to or deepens the story and when it doesn’t. If in Chapter 12, Rafe is suppose to have a have a fight with the love of his life and the relationship is supposed to look like it’s over, but, instead, if Rafe decides to go hunting with the guys and finds a magic sword that happens to be Excalibur, you might have a problem or, at least, be writing a different story than you thought you were.

If you’re an outliner, you probably know almost immediately when your characters stray and can assess whether in the overall plot arc if the diversion is a complication that should stay or navel gazing that needs to be cut. It’s a bit harder for us discovery writers. After all, we often don’t know where the story is going. (Yes, I acknowledge that this is the way to madness for some.) It could be that the first 100 pages is wrong and not the “diversion”. Been there, done that and it stinks.

So, you have a couple of choices when the characters try to run the show.

1.  Go with it. Since the characters are only the writer’s unconscious mind, they might be on to something.

2.  Assess the detour and see if it’s a path the story should travel.  If not, stop or see #5 below.

3.  If it’s a main character mutiny, write it and worry about whether it works in rewrite. This is often what I do.

4.  If it’s a minor character, cut, paste and save the ”new” story for a sequel or related story.

5.  Cut, paste and save in another document, and keep on your plan or outline.

Sometimes when your characters decide to turn left instead of right, you discover wonders. Sometimes it results in the never ending story. The latter isn’t good. You must finish the story. Any story. Every story.

Remember, you need to choose what’s important for your story. If the track your character wanders onto doesn’t advance the story you want to tell,  stop, hold a character intervention and get back to the plot line you want.  If the path through the forest isn’t well defined, don’t be afraid to leave it and smell the flowers along the way. Just watch out for the big bad wolf, and Hades.

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Let’s face it. Dialogue is the bane of many a writer learning the craft. We overuse it. We unnecessarily pretty it up. Frankly, we overthink it.

The talking part isn’t really all that difficult. We all know how to talk. The only thing you really need to do if you’re having trouble writing realistic conversation is to listen to real life. A nice trick is to record a conversation between real people and play it back, writing it down word for word. Scenes from movies work well for this, too.

You’ll learn pretty quick that with spoken dialogue, less is more.

The truth is that most of the dialogue shouldn’t be spoken. The majority of communication between human beings happens through body language, part of that elusive phenomenon we like to call subtext. Even when we’re not talking, we’re still having a dialogue. In fact, people tend to believe a speaker’s body language over what they’re saying. This, I think, is why it’s so difficult to write a story only using dialogue. Real people need context to fully understand the meaning of what’s being said.

Think about it. You’re main character’s girlfriend is telling her about a conflict at work. While your main character is responding to the girlfriend as if she’s listening to every word in a tone that says she cares, she’s also watching a little boy play with a toy two tables down. Does your main character really care about what her girlfriend is saying? Not really, or she would give her complete attention to the conversation.

What about the protagonist who can’t keep his eyes off the gorgeous woman in red across the room, even though he tells his date he’s not interested in her? Which do you believe—the glances or the words?

Once you understand how this works, it’s a great tool to help you stay engaged in the writing and keep the words flowing. Let’s face it, it’s so much more interesting to write a scene where people are being active, and character’s talking to each other is the most engaging activity in most novels. It’s a fantastic source of conflict, especially when someone’s words don’t match their body language.

Take the first example above. Our main character isn’t really paying attention to her girlfriend, and the girlfriend knows it. She gets irritated and calls our main character on it. Maybe there’s someone at the table next to theirs who is paying a little too much attention even though he’s not saying a word. In the second example, the protagonist’s date isn’t stupid. She knows her man has his eye on the woman in red. And maybe that gorgeous stranger has noticed it, too.

You can do all kinds of things to kick-start a flagging plot by introducing a dialogue scene. It’s where the characters figure things out and mess things up. It’s where they proclaim love and outright lie. It’s where characters show themselves even when their words say otherwise.

Your story, after all, isn’t about car chases or sword fights. It isn’t about the nefarious scheme your villain has hatched. Your story is about the people dealing with all that, and people don’t live in a vacuum or always agree with each other. They don’t always act rationally or know what they’re doing, and while it’s possible to show this in narrative, that can get boring for you and the reader. Get one or more other characters in the room to show it through dialogue and bring the situation out of the character’s head and into the real world. You’ll be amazed what can happen.

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You’re tired of writing the short story before you’ve even finished it. You’re 40,000 words into the novel and are falling asleep at the keyboard. You’ve worked hard on your world building, done the research done your character profiles and have the main elements of your plot chart, the writing should come easily but it doesn’t.

Don’t panic! The inability to write because your work doesn’t feel interesting at this moment doesn’t mean that you’re a bad writer. It means that you’re stuck and that you need to answer one simple question to get through this:

Are you bored or are you burned out?

Burn out happens when we’ve been at it too long – our brains need a rest from processing information and creating a work of art. Writing takes lots of energy – physical, creative and emotional.  That’s when you need to give yourself a break But sometimes when you’re feeling bored it’s   your brain’s way of telling you that information is missing.  I had that experience when I was doing the world building and background work for my new series. I had had so much fun world building and I wanted to write the novel so I could share it. No matter how hard I tried, it wouldn’t happen. Three times I started the beginning and each time I set it aside. It wasn’t fun anymore. I grew bored. So, I let it rest and when I reviewed my research, I realized that I hadn’t thought through a critical element. My brain, in the form of boredom and frustration, was telling me that I was missing something.

Sometimes I write three to ten pages of background material (important but boring stuff) because I need to get grounded in the setting and characters. Once I’ve done that, then the story begins. So, write, write and write some more. It’s not boredom per se that you’re experiencing, it’s simply that you’re going through the first step of needing to become part of that world, to unclutter your brain by getting information and relationships out of your head.

What happens when you’re genuinely bored with what you’re writing? When you’re sick of the plot and the characters? When it’s not exciting anymore and it feels like work and not fun?

Sometimes, it’s not fun and when that’s the case we need to simply write our way through it until it becomes fun. There may be technical reasons why this is so but many times those aren’t apparent until we’ve finished the novel and are revising it. So don’t stop writing. Write through the scene or section and get to the fun part!

Feeling bored may be the result of not getting to the interesting parts of the story. You’re missing mood, emotion, action and reaction because there’s too much inconsequential description, the reader isn’t an idiot and doesn’t need that level of detail, it reads like a technical manual, and yes, it’s simply boring writing! So in this case, the problem may not be with you but with what you’re writing.  Again, get it out of your system, then write the real story.

But what if you’re bored because you’re derailed and don’t even know it? Check your plot chart. Write out chapter summaries or summarize your scenes in point form. Ask yourself: where does the story begin and what is the disaster in the opening quarter that compels my charter to act? What is the story goal? What is the climax? What is happening to the protagonist between the middle and the end which makes it challenging for him to achieve his goals? It may be that somewhere in the swampy middle that you need to increase action and tension, up the stakes in order to make things dicier for your character and more exciting for yourself. This solution also works if you’re bored because your characters and plot feel boring.

Boredom may mean that you need a break. We get tired – it happens. Do something different for a bit: write a short story or a poem; paint the fence; go to a movie; bake something – give your brain a break and do something fun! Beware though that you aren’t using boredom as an excuse to procrastinate – that it’s an excuse to do the fun things and not write! If that’s the case, the surest way to quell boredom is by applying the BICFOK cure – Butt in Chair, Fingers on Keyboard.

Yawn! I’m not bored – I simply need a nap!

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This book is for you if:
You’re new at plotting and you don’t know where to begin;
You want a concise yet usable refresher course on plotting, character and world  building;
You’re revising your novel; and
Especially if you’re a pantster!

Writing Fiction for Dummies is all about making sure your novel has all the right components for success. As author Randy Ingermanson says in his opening notes in Snowflake Pro, a design program for novelists:

Good fiction doesn’t just happen, it is designed. You can do the design work before or after you write your novel. I’ve done it both ways and I’ve found that doing it first is quicker and leads to a better result for me. But you may find that doing your design after you write your novel works better for you. It doesn’t really matter when you do your design work, as long as you do it.

And this book covers all aspects of the writing from finding your target audience, to choosing your creative paradigm, using the principles of powerful plot, editing and getting published.  However, it’s not for dummies – it gives credit that the reader is intelligent by succinctly providing information and tips. I like that I don’t have to read an entire book on character or plot or revision and then have to distill the information I need.  Plus, the book has great examples to illustrate each point.

These authors are masters in taking you through the steps logically. For example, Part II: Creating Compelling Fiction takes you from building your story world, to creating compelling characters, plot layers and examining theme. Part III gives you the tools to edit and polish your work by analyzing characters, story and scene structure and then editing scenes for content.

Truly, I always thought I was a panster at heart until I realized that I was simply plotting and outlining in my head. Writing fiction for Dummies has given me the tools to put those points on paper. Now my plots are multi layered, my characters are deeper and I don’t have the headache from keeping all that information in my head! I still can’t write a detailed outline – it’s just not me. But, I’m a more organized pantster now who has lots more fun brainstorming the deeper ‘what if?’ scenarios.

I’ve started a new series and I can’t keep five books worth of information in my head. Chapter 8: Story Line and Three-Act Structure is my starting point for the basics and I brainstorm from there. I planned the big picture first – key points for the beginning, murky middle, climax and ending for each novel.  Now I have an idea of plot arc, character arcs, emotional arcs and where each story in the series needs to end. I still have lots of room for random creativity as my characters take me on unexpected turns in their journeys and I can let them do that with confidence because I know I have enough of a plan so that key story elements aren’t derailed. Most importantly, I know that if the novels grow in unexpected ways, I can revise the plan because as our characters evolve, so do we as writers and so must our plan.

Whether you’re writing your first or tenth novel, revising your draft or reviewing, Writing Fiction for Dummies is a resource every writer must have. It’s a quick reference guide filled with checklists and thought provoking questions on critical elements … and I can hardly wait for the revision process because now I know what I’m doing!

Happy writing and revising! It’s always a joy to create!

To learn more about authors Randy Ingermanson and Peter Economy, visit their sites at:
http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/snowflake.php
http://www.petereconomy.com/Welcome.html

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One of the wonderful things about NaNoWriMo is it forces thousands of writers to get the writing party started. This raises the question of: Now what?

The answer is deceptively simple: FINISH  IT.

Okay, I can’t leave it at that. Simple answers just aren’t in my nature. Why? It’s because the simplest answers often hold the hardest truths, and most difficult objectives.

The goal of NaNoWriMo is to write 50,000 words in a month. Keep in mind that the goal isn’t 50,000 immediately publishable words. I’ll circle back to that point in a moment. Most adult-reader novels (and no, I’m not taking about those at the top of the rating system, but all books that fall outside the picture, children’s, and middle grade markets) these days are more than 50,000 words.   Young Adult novels use to fall into the 50-60,000 range, but with the breakaway success of the Harry Potter and Twilight franchises, Young Adult often exceeds this mark as well. Books in the fantasy genre tend to be on the  higher end of the word count spectrum. If you’re not Brandon Sanderson or George R.R. Martin, your likely word count is between 80,000 and 120,000 words.  Romance and Thrillers tend to ranger closer to the70- 80,000 word mark.  So, our task isn’t done when at the end of November we hit the magical 50,000 words. We can’t spell check and e-mail the partially-finished manuscript out to our top ten fantasy agents and expect them to rush to represent us. Seriously, don’t do this.

Tip #1 then is to write until done. Whether you need another 20,000 words or another 60,000 words, you must finish the story and type “THE END.” Having the privilege of typing that phrase a number of times, let me tell you it’s the best feeling. Revel in it for a day or two. By typing ”the end” you’ve done what most of the want-to-be writers never do. You’ve finished the story. Congratulations. It’s a huge accomplishment.

But, you’re not ready to hit send yet. RULE 1 – and unlike pirate “rules” you are not allowed to ignore this one - No story should go from the first time you type “the end” immediately into an agent’s or editor’s hands. The story isn’t ready, and worse, if you had a connection with that person, you might have wasted your ”big chance” on an inferior product. Hopefully, your first draft isn’t far off the mark, but everyone needs some editing before publication.

A very wise and funny lady once told me “give yourself permission to write a crappy first draft.” Thank you, Lisa Scottoline for that advice. The saying isn’t unique to Lisa, but she’s the first person I heard it from where it sank in. I mentioned above  very few people can write 50,000 publishable words on the first pass. I think outliners have an advantage over pantsers like me because the outliner already beta-tested, as it were, the story’s structure. For most of us, the hard work comes after we type “the end” and start the editing phase.

Tip #2 – Put the draft away.

We fall in love everytime we write. I love my characters, even the really horrible people, and their story by the time I type “the end.” I’ve spent months or years with them. Like any other parent, this unconditional love means I’m blind to the characters’ and story’s flaws.  I generally need at least a month before I can objectively look at a novel I’ve written before I can wade into the forest of words with a machette. Take at least a week. Longer if you can. The distance will grant you objectivity, and you’ll need that for the editing/ rewriting process.

Tip #3 – Outline the story.

Okay, this is where opinions will vary widely and you’ve going to need to experiment to find out what works for you. Tip 3 is where the editing process starts. Whether you are an outliner or a pantser, my recommendation is to outline your completed story to ensure you hit all the “beats” you need.  I’ve written about the Hollywood Formula of story telling here before and we just had a great review of Blake Snyder’s Save The Cat which uses this formula here so I won’t replow this ground.  Please check out those two posts because the outlining and story telling techniques set out in both are helpful in structuring a story or fixing one when it’s leaped the tracks.  If you use this method to dissect your story, the “what’s missing” to take this from fair, to publishable, to kick-butt runaway sucess become obvious which makes the editing process less painful.

Tip #4 – It’s okay to delete.

This tip is a version of Stephen King’s imfamous phrase, “kill your darlings.”

I had a professor who was also a playwright. He’d adapted a well known classic novel that hadn’t been previously adapted to the stage. One of the reasons, I think, this particular work of this very well known and revered writer hadn’t been adapted was the “novel” was originally published week-by-week in a newspaper. Sometimes the week’s episode fit into the overall story arc and sometimes it didn’t. The professor overlayed a plot line of the writer’s actual life with the story. The idea was brilliant. The first act’s execution suffered because the professor wouldn’t kill his, or the original writer’s “darlings.” The tech crew (of which I was one) spent the act-break telling the audience the one scene they needed to know from the first act, and  begging them to stay for the second act.  On a good night we only lost half the house at intermission. The second act was brilliant, beautiful and heart-breaking. The problem was almost no one saw it. Instead of listening to advice, killing the scenes which were neat but interrupted the story, and making the play a long one-act, the professor insisted on his version which kept all these odd-ball bits. Because he wouldn’t “kill his darings”, the professor killed the entire play.

If you have a bit you love and that’s the only reason you’re keeping it, use the cut and paste function. Cut it out of the current story. It’s a cancer that will infect the whole work. Paste it into a file named “darlings” or “neat bits” and save. At some point that darling will rise from its technological grave and be given new life in a story it belongs in. Have faith in yourself that you’ll find a home for it in some other work. If a bit isn’t advancing character and plot, it doesn’t belong in this story. Take it out.

Tip #5 Stop editing when it’s time.

People who advocate for limited editing have a valid point. You can edit a story to death. At some point, you have to say it’s as good as I can make it and let it go. Do you send it to agents and editors now? No.

Tip #6 When you’ve gotten it as good as you can, phone a friend.

Remember when I said writers are parents who are blind to their child’s faults? This is where that maxim comes into play again. You need a trusted reader or six. These people are new to your story and can see what you can’t. Whether you’ve had other readers in the editing process, this group’s purpose is to give you impressions (not line edits). This is the group I want to come back to me with emotional comments like “hu?” or “I cried here.” and not technical ones.  You want cheerleaders out of it. If you get people who finished only because they are your friends or, worse, get the DNF (“did not finish”) comment, you have a problem that needs to be corrected before you go past “Go” and collect your book advance.

Tip #7 Send it out.

A professional writer’s light at the end of the tunnel is publication. You can’t get published if your story languishes on your computer’s harddrive.   You must submit.  Do your research. Meet agents and editors. Send the story to the person it is a good fit for. Self-publish if that’s what you want to do. Then the waiting begins.

Tip #8- Start all over.

While you are waiting, guess what you need to do. Yup. That’s it. Write another story. Kismet happens, but you need to put yourself out there. Finish more stories. Give them wings and send them out to the world. Keep at it long enough and you’ll suceeed, whatever that term means to you.

For me,. suceess means writing another 2,500 words today. I best get started.

See you at:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I recently read a business article about the fear of failure and how it stops us from being successful. The idea is that the single best way to improve is to try and fail, then take what you’ve learned and try again. Unfortunately, for most of us, we hate to fail at anything, for any reason. We want our words to come out perfect.

If you think about it, failure is what the glaring blank page represents, isn’t it? I mean, if we get right down to it, in most cases that’s what holds us back – this pesky fear of failure. We get so mired by the perfect way to say something that we end up not saying anything at all.

That’s why I like NaNoWriMo. Not because it gets us in the chair to write (which is great). Not because we at least can get close to finishing something if we never have (which is better). Not because it connects us to other writers who are all in this race to the finish with us (which is pretty nifty too). It’s that the experience teaches us to let go of the pressures we place on ourselves. It gives us permission to write anything—no pressure to make it spit-polish shiny, no looming expectation that it could be published one day. NaNoWriMo gives us a license to play. It gives us a permission to fail, which is amazingly freeing. The only goal is that 50,000 words.

Just write.

That’s it.

Writing the perfect book isn’t the point. The point is to be productive, and the only way to be truly productive is to set aside the need to get it right the first time. Editing can come later, after you’ve let the story sit for a little. I recently reread a NaNo book I wrote a few years ago, and realized it wasn’t half bad. Best of all, it’s a complete novel—something I probably wouldn’t have accomplished without letting go of the need to revise as I went.

Take it as a foregone conclusion that what we’re writing is imperfect. By knowing that, we can free ourselves from the fear of it. We allow ourselves to put our thoughts onto the page without judgement getting in the way.

Get it wrong. Make mistakes. Toss in that ridiculous action sequence. Ramble about backstory. Wax rhapsodic with a detailed description of how the living room reminds your grandma’s dollhouse collection. Don’t know the first thing about bazookas except that they are essential to your hero getting the girl of his dreams? Go for it! You’ll be amazed what comes out, and you’ll have plenty of time to fix it later.

Just write.

That’s it.

Get to it.

 

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This last weekend I spent four days in a large house in the middle of the woods with seven other women.  It was understood from the get-go that this was a writing retreat, so excessive visiting would not be tolerated.  While there, we had a morning snack, lunch, an afternoon snack and dinner (we ate really good), and each of us was responsible for preparing one snack and one meal.  We had to clean up after as well, but that was the only time we really had to take out of our writing time.  We would stand around chatting for a few minutes during snacks and we would all eat together and check on our progress during meals.  This was fun and bonding for all of us.  But mostly, we were writing from when we woke up till we went to sleep.

Our commander-in-chief (and retreat organizer) aka the “Write or Die Nazi” said she would keep us on task. And she did.  We used Dr. Wicked’s Write or Die program ($10) and competed against each (I even did this virtually with a friend who didn’t come).  If you’re not familiar with this program, you set a word goal and a time limit – I use 1000 words in 60 minutes most of the time – and then hit the WRITE button.  It opens a new screen and this is where you start typing.  It shows you how many words you’ve typed and how much time you have left to go.  If you pause for too long, the screen starts turning pink and will go to red while simultaneously a heinous sound of your choosing starts blaring at you, but as soon as you start typing again, it will go away.  Trust me when I say this keeps you motivated.  When done, you can then copy/cut and paste your text into your main document.

Not all of us would participate all the time, but several times a day, our Nazi would call out, “Write or Die” and whoever wanted to join in would get ready and when called, we would all start at the same time.  An hour later, we’d check in and see how we each did.  After the brief cheers, we’d go back to writing.  Some would turn the sound off so as not to bother others (the red screen still keeps you hopping) and do it by themselves in between the group competitions.  We were writing almost all day of every day there.

The energy was supercharged and we all kept each other going longer and more productively than we would have if home alone.  This was exceptionally good for me because I’ve had a hard time writing lately.  I sit there thinking, fingers hovering over the keyboard, waiting for ideas to come.  At the retreat, I did this the afternoon of Day 1 and the first half of Day 2 and I had 800 words to show for it.  I was frustrated.  I had the Write or Die program on my computer but hadn’t used it in a really long time.  So, the next challenge that was called, I participated.  I did more words in that hour than I had in the eighteen hours prior combined.  I used the program and the challenges the rest of the  retreat and ended up getting almost 18,000 words done by the time I went home.  Our highest gal did 24,000 total.  We are romance writers who write in our free time when jobs, husbands, kids and everything else in our lives allows.  Some are better at making that time and being productive, others less so, but no one left from this retreat left with less 15,000 new words.

There are many of you out there that can produce like this or better without breaking a sweat, but for me it was huge.  Having the pressure of the red screen/screeching violins looming kept my brain from sabotaging me.  My inner editor couldn’t keep rereading and fixing the same material or searching for the perfect word.  My doubt couldn’t sneak in and plague me with whether I was going the right direction.  I couldn’t stall by doing research ad nauseam. I had to just write.  And I did.  Sure, I have to go back and edit it and add a lot of details that do take some thought, but it’s easier to do that when you have something to work with.  Surprisingly, it was even good material.  It’d been in my mind, I’d been thinking on it for a long time, but I’d been sabotaging my efforts to get it on the page.  Write or Die was like guerilla warfare blitzing my inner adversary.

If you are one of those who can produce consistently, I applaud you and hope to join your ranks sooner than later.  For those who may need some assistance, Write or Die may help.  I know that even since I’ve been home, if I use the program, I get more done.  I turn to it as a tool when I find my fingers hovering instead of typing.

Have you used it?  Do you use other types of warfare?  The more tools I have, the better.  Let’s hear it, troops.

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My first drafts are ugly. I have friends who talk about plotting and planning for months before they ever write a word on a new manuscript. I can’t see myself doing that. I’m getting better at plotting but even so, it doesn’t seem to matter how much I plan and ponder, dream and think, my first drafts are still rough.

For me, a first draft is largely an exploration of the plot. It’s also about me trying to get to know the characters. It’s not until I’ve gone all the way through a draft that I start to get a handle on the sub-plots and themes, and it’s only then that I start understanding my characters. So my first drafts are perhaps more what other people call planning.

I’d love to be one of those writers who can complete a manuscript to satisfaction in just a couple of drafts. It usually takes me about three drafts to really nail down the plot and it’s only then that I can start worrying about the details – sensory, emotional, visual. This is when I start looking at issues like what time of year events occur in and what the weather is like. For some reason, my characters are always trapped in an “unseasonal heatwave”. Here in Australia, we have very hot summers so perhaps this is the reason for my obsession with heatwaves.  At about the dozen draft mark, I start feeling comfortable with what I’ve written and it’s really only then that I start to feel like I have a manuscript that’s getting towards being half decent.

I’m currently working on the first round of edits for a manuscript that I meticulously – for me, at least – planned prior to writing. I even used index cards – lots of them – and I thought I did a much better job of laying out the plot than I ever have before. However now that I’m finally re-reading this draft for the first time, I’m realising all that planning has left me with a first draft that really isn’t any better than what I usually produce. There are still massive plot holes, contradictions and things I just haven’t figured out yet.

So I’m wondering whether all that planning was a waste of time. Perhaps this is just the way my brain works. Maybe I need to go through that process of laying the story out, in the form of a first draft, to get my head around it. Perhaps what I’ve been thinking of as a first draft is really my planning stage. Other people use index cards, character notes, and synopses for planning. I guess I’m doing much the same, only mine is 80,000 words long.

So I’m wondering whether I’m approaching this the wrong way. All this time I’ve been telling myself I need to plan better, but perhaps what I’ve been thinking of as a first draft really is my planning process. It’s just a little longer than what some other people do. But then again, maybe I’m kidding myself.  Am I just being lazy and avoiding planning properly because I find it so difficult? That’s the problem with writers, isn’t it.  We can convince ourselves of just about anything by justifying it as our “creative process” instead of laziness.

So tell me: what planning process do you go through prior to writing your first draft?

 

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