Avoiding Publishing Conflicts

Business Conflict Guy Anthony De Marco 2 Comments

A few years ago, the blogosphere was all atwitter concerning the story of Mandy DeGeit, a new author who discovered the story she submitted to an anthology wasn’t the same as the story that was published under her name. The “editor” had added in minor items like a suggestion of a rape, animal abuse, changing an ungendered character to a boy, and even introducing spelling errors on the title. Heavyweights like Neil Gaiman and Jonathan Maberry waded in to give their take on the carnage.

Authors who have been around the block a time or two have watched these kinds of publishers come and go, watching the cycle repeat itself every so often. Just like the emails that proclaim you’ve inherited a few million dollars from an unknown relative who lived in Nigeria, these scams and otherwise questionable practices keep resurfacing to ensnare the unwary.

The way to protect yourself and avoid unnecessary conflict is to take the time to do a thorough background check of your potential publisher. In order to do this you have to separate your ego from your business instinct. Receiving an email from a publisher that says they want to publish your story is a heady experience. You’ve bled yourself dry, spending untold hours crafting your novel. It sure would be nice to receive some compensation by seeing your name on a cover. The problem is it can end up costing you time, money, your novel, and even your reputation.

There are several well-known websites you should visit when you’re interested in a publisher. AbsoluteWrite is a good place to start (http://absolutewrite.com/forums/index.php). Their forums are full of first-hand experience when dealing with most publishers, both good and bad. There are cases where a well-respected publisher lost their way, such as Dorchester/Leisure. If the forum threads span multiple pages, make sure you read the last two or three to see what’s new with a publisher. If you see one or two complaints, but otherwise positive feedback, that publisher is a decent candidate for your novel.

Once your visit to the AbsoluteWrite water cooler is complete, stop by the Writer Beware blogs (http://www.sfwa.org/for-authors/writer-beware/). This project is a public service offered by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA). They don’t pull punches, and they do their best to give as much detail as possible. The blogs and forums are filled with experience for you to gather and consider.

Our next stop is Predators and Editors (http://pred-ed.com/). This website contains so much information about bad presses that they’ve been sued several times. Additionally, they have whole sections on similar topics, including agents, magazines and organizations.

Just to be thorough, you can always visit the Better Business Bureau (www.bbb.org) and Ripoff Report (www.ripoffreport.com) to see if there are business complaints unrelated to authors. Things to watch for include complaints that books were not received and complaints of unpaid bills from suppliers.

After digesting these sources, and assuming you still wish to continue researching, I personally recommend doing a couple of custom Google searches.

+“QuestionablePressName” +(sucks|scam|warning)

The above search string should return any pages that have your potential publisher and the words “suck” or “scam” or “warning”.

At this point, you’re either putting stamps on a manuscript package or thanking your lucky stars that you avoided a scam. Hopefully it’s the former, and you’re on your way to not only being published, but being published well.

About the Author:DeMarco_Web-5963

Guy Anthony De Marco is a speculative fiction author; a Graphic Novel Bram Stoker Award®; winner of the HWA Silver Hammer Award; a prolific short story and flash fiction crafter; a novelist; an invisible man with superhero powers; a game writer (Sojourner Tales modules, Interface Zero 2.0 core team, D&D modules); and a coffee addict. One of these is false.
A writer since 1977, Guy is a member of the following organizations: SFWA, WWA, SFPA, IAMTW, ASCAP, RMFW, NCW, HWA. He hopes to collect the rest of the letters of the alphabet one day. Additional information can be found at Wikipedia, GuyAndTonya.com, and GuyAnthonyDeMarco.com.

Macro vs Micro Conflict

Conflict Frank Morin 1 Comment

big dragon little knightLife is conflict.  Story is conflict.  One of the reasons we seek out great stories is for help dealing with conflict in our lives.  We learn lessons from our characters, look for inspiration from heroes that have to risk everything to achieve their goals.  After experiencing that level of conflict, sometimes our own are easier to keep in proper perspective.  If they can make sense of their crazy worlds, we should be able to make sense of our own.

Frank’s rule on conflict:  Rarely is a story with a single conflict interesting enough to hold a reader’s attention for long.

  • A corrolary to that rule is:  the more personal a conflict, the more interesting it is.

Let’s start with the biggest conflicts:  War.  One might think those would be the most interesting stories because entire nations are at conflict with each other.  Problem is, I as a reader cannot relate to a nation very easily.

Consider a few highly rated war movies:

What makes these movies stand above the rest in large part is that they have powerful personal conflicts.  War is the setting, and battle sequences provide ample fodder for physical and psychological danger.  However, it’s the deeply personal conflicts of the combatants, their personal lives outside of the battlefield, that draw in viewers and make them care.

There were war movies made that dealt only with the macro issues of conflict between nations.  Those tend to be drier and inherently less interesting outside of a pure historical, strategic, or academic perspective.  Because there’s not much story there.  It’s hard for people to relate.

But if we take a major conflict like that and populate the setting with interesting characters who have challenges similar to our own in addition to the macro issues of life and death conflict on the battlefield, that’s when we get sucked in.  We want our heroes to survive the battle, but what we’re most rooting for are their victories over their inner struggles, their fear.  We want them to survive to find a normal life, fall in love, prove there can be some kind of happily ever after.

Let’s look at some other types of stories.

Would we care so much if Luke Skywalker defeated Darth Vader if Vader wasn’t Luke’s father?  The Luke vs Vaderlightsaber duels were awesome, and the conflict between the good young jedi and the evil old killer was epic.  However, our interest was locked in and set to boiling when the story became one of redemption.  We wanted Luke to not only defeat evil, but help his father return to the light.

Titanic was such a successful movie because we cared for the primary characters.  The setting was one of a famous disaster where fifteen hundred people died.  Yet that wasn’t the main story because major disasters are not relatable at a deep, personal level.  It worked because it was a love story between a doomed couple.

The Princess Bride is a completely different type of story.  Funny, engaging, filled with epic duels and memorable characters.  But the heart of the story is true love.  Very little is more relatable than that.

Let’s shift gears again.  Rocky.  Great movie.  Classic story of a man committing his all in a bid to overcome incredible obstacles and break out of the life he’s locked into.  The fight scenes are superb, but we’re rooting for him because we relate to him.  We want him to prove it’s possible to reach our dreams, no matter how high we’ve set our sights, as long as we’re willing to throw everything we are into the struggle.

Another favorite story of mine is Knight’s Tale.  The jousting is awesome, the cinematography is often fantastic, and the setting is very interesting.  We root for William, the young knight, because again he’s trying to change his stars, change his life, and find love.  If he can do it, we can do it (hopefully with less physical pain involved).

Pride and PrejudiceLet’s consider a final example.  Pride & Prejudice.  I love to tease my wife about this and other similar stories because the level of conflict is so subdued.  There are no knights, there’s no war, there’s no desperate run through traffic to stop the wedding before the true love makes the wrong choice.  And yet, this story has held readers for a very long time and most women I know are rabid fans.  Why is that?

Because the conflict is relatable.  The conflicts are simple, yet powerful.  Everyone has to wonder about relationships, their place in the world, and what kind of life they’re going to manage to build for themselves.  Add in the romantic Elizabethan era with beautiful costumes, formal settings, and a social code that threatens to keep the characters down, and it’s a winner for the ages.

So as we build stories, make sure at their root there’s a deep, personal conflict that our readers can relate to.  Then layer onto that larger challenges with family, society, or culture.  Those macro conflicts and opposing pressures can ratchet up tension and stakes, making the personal conflict that much more powerful.

If you can do that, you’ve got a winner for the ages.

Don’t say what you mean: writing conflict through dialogue

Conflict Guest Posts Narrative Voice POV Rewriting Social Combat Subtle Confict The Writing Life Writing Tools 3 Comments

A guest post by David Jón Fuller.

There are a lot of ways to express conflict through dialogue in a scene, but it can be very effective – and a lot of fun – if it isn’t done openly.

People (and characters) hate conflict. They usually do everything they can to avoid it, unless they’re devoid of empathy. But readers… they love conflict. It makes for great dialogue, exciting scenes, and a plot that keeps moving.

I think, as a writer, it can be easy to fall into placating one or the other of those camps. You want to protect your characters from too much pain, so they work out compromises too often and no one gets hurt. Or, you throw them into the exciting drama of constant conflict, and they will die on that hill before they give in.

The happy middle ground – for characters, your story, and readers – is somewhere in between; and when I’m writing scenes, I follow some basic guidelines that govern how it plays out. These aren’t the only ways to do it, of course, but they’re options to consider.

(Also: one assumption underlying any scene I write is that the characters in it need something from each other. If they didn’t, one or more of them would just leave.)

 

  1. Characters want different things, but they don’t necessarily say so.

Conflict is more than this:

Character 1: I want the thing!

Character 2: I don’t want you to have the thing!

 

It’s more often like this:

Character 1: Say, why don’t we go outside and enjoy the warm weather? (The thing I want is hidden in the garage, and I want to get it)

Character 2: No, let’s stay in the living room and play chess! (I’ve already stolen the thing from the garage and I don’t want you to find out)

Give your characters subtext! They don’t have to say what they really want from each other. In fact, I think it’s better if they avoid doing so until they have no other choice.

 

  1. Characters want different things, but one or both of them don’t realize it.

In a different scenario, things could play out like this:

Character 3: Is there a gas station coming up soon? (My highly contagious stomach flu which I haven’t told you about is acting up and I need a washroom)

Character 4: Don’t worry about that! Even though it says “empty” here, we have plenty of fuel. (If we stop, I’ll be late for my meeting with the loan shark I owe money to)

 

You can use this to heighten tension, but be careful about confusing the reader.  You can make it clear something deeper is going on by showing other details, rather than having the character say anything.

Character 3: (gripping the armrest, sweating, pale, trying to conceal a grimace) Is there a gas station coming up soon?

Character 4: (Checks wristwatch, glancing repeatedly in rear-view mirror) Don’t worry about that! Even though it says “empty” here, we have plenty of fuel.

 

  1. Characters generally want to avoid revealing deep truths about themselves. They may not know those truths, either.

It would be nice if scenes played out as logically as this:

Character 5: If you leave home, I’ll feel like a failure as a parent! That’s why I’m trying to make you feel like you’re the failure for leaving.

Character 6: If you keep me here, I’ll feel as if I’m not my own person! I need to leave so I can prove to you – and myself — I’m competent and independent.

 

Even if both characters know what the underlying issue is, they may try to frame it in a way that makes themselves look better:

Character 5: Go ahead and leave – you’ll never make it on your own! (If you leave, I’ll feel like a failure as a parent)

Character 6: If I stay here, I’ll kill myself! Is that what you want? (I need to leave so I can prove to you – and myself – I’m competent and independent)

 

  1. Try this: whatever the character says, make it the opposite of that they really feel.

Instead of a straight back and forth like this:

Character 7: I’m so attracted to you, despite many reasons I shouldn’t be!

Character 8: You disgust me, but I want to help you!

 

It could go like this:

Character 7: Get out of here and leave me alone! (I want you to stay, but I’m afraid my attraction will become too strong and you’ll see I actually love you)

Character 8: As soon as you’re done throwing up, I will! (Drunkenness disgusts me but I couldn’t live with myself if you came to harm because I abandoned you)

 

  1. This is not so much a rule, but it’s a handy tool: Characters generally won’t say what they really, desperately want or need until the climax of the story. It doesn’t have to be a speech, it doesn’t have to be that articulate – but at the climax is where they will be most honest about what they say. If that means they can’t say anything, that’s fine, too. But I generally don’t think the climax is the point at which they will be flip or indifferent – it’s cards-on-the-table time. So when the conflict of the story comes to a head, try to find a way for the characters to declare, or defend, what they love and prize more than anything else.  It can be as simple as a single word, like “No.”

 

If you use any of the above strategies throughout the story leading up to the climax —showing what your characters desperately want but won’t come out and say —having them finally be open about it in the climax can be very powerful.

For examples, think of your favourite books, stories, movies or plays, where the climax was truly electrifying. Consider why that is, and whether the characters are finally revealing something about themselves. I’d bet that very often, that revelation or all-pretenses-abandoned sense of the climactic scene is what gives it its power.

There are other strategies for writing dialogue, but the above approaches are ones I find most useful when throwing characters with different agendas together in a scene.

About David Jón Fuller: 100819 David Fuller 0002
David Jón Fuller is a writer whose fiction has appeared in Long Hidden: Speculative Fiction From the Margins of History; Tesseracts 18: Wrestling With Gods; Kneeling in the Silver Light: Stories From the Great War; and in the upcoming anthology Accessing The Future. He lives in Winnipeg, and as time allows, blogs at www.davidjonfuller.com.

Starting off Right… with a Stumble

Conflict Guest Posts Writing Tools No Comments

A guest post by Nicole Lavigne.

Everyone knows a good story needs tension. We ask ourselves: what’s the problem, what’s the major conflict for the story? We’re not too likely to forget about that, and first readers will probably pick up on it if the main character never faces any trials, but that’s not the only tension we need to think about. There needs to be tension throughout the story, building slowly, sometimes in fits and starts too. It keeps a reader turning the pages. But perhaps one place where we might forget about tension, or fail to apply it, is in the opening. It needs tension too. Not big, THE END IS NIGH tension from the very first paragraph, but the first ripples stirring the water, the first creeping shadow while the sun still shines, making it clear that trouble lies ahead. I’m a slush reader for an online magazine, and this is one of my most common comments on stories: too slow in building tension.

Easier said than done, right? So of course, one of the pieces of feedback I got on my story Soil of Truth from my beta reader it was the lack of tension in the opening. Everyone got along too well. The main character, Osaeba, was the perfect apprentice and her mentor knew and appreciated it. One big happy family and absolutely no tension until the main problem was introduced, several hundred words later. Not good. The main problem of the story and its progression in the story was fine. But how to add tension in the opening when I am still introducing the characters and the world, before I can even get to the big problem? So I adjusted the opening. Osaeba was still a good apprentice, attentive and takes initiative, but I made her mentor more critical of her. It was a small change, and didn’t alter the plot, but it brought in some tension between the two characters. Now Osaeba is constantly trying to prove herself. The added bonus? That tension between them continued to build through the story and increased the tension in later scenes. Now it made even more sense when Osaeba’s mentor questions her concerns later on in the story.

Think about your own relationships. We rarely get along perfectly with everyone in our lives. Even people we like, and love, can have traits that get on our nerves or different opinions on important issues (religion or politics, anyone?). Misunderstandings happen all too easily. It’s not enough to end a relationship – a miscommunication or misunderstanding may be cleared easily enough with a conversation, once we have time to have it, or minor irritating traits are brushed aside – but they cause moments of tension. Fiction should show this as well.

The flip-side to this problem is starting a story in media rez, in the middle of the action. There’s lots going on, but if I don’t know enough about the character, their dangerous predicament won’t have me on the edge of my seat fearing for them. Tension works best when we care about the character and how events will affect them. We need to be invested in their hopes in dreams for the action to really mater. Starting in media rez can certainly work, but I find it works best if you give a sense of what’s at stake for the character: are they the innocent victim of a crazed murderer or fighting against the odds to save a loved one?

About Nicole Lavigne:
ZNicole Lavigne has a BA in English and Theatre from the University of Ottawa. She still lives in Ottawa but considers all of Canada her home after bouncing across the country as a military brat during her childhood. She is a professional storyteller, writer, Editorial Assistant for Beneath Ceaseless Skies magazine, and daylights as an administrative assistant for the government. Her story, Soil of Truth, will be appearing in Second Contacts by Bundoran Press in the fall of 2015.