And about damn time – I’ve been writing about writing for the past 7 years but didn’t have a scrap of fiction to share…until now.
Some context: the latest round of edits on Fool’s Gold slowed (further) over the summer due to burnout. I needed to get the creative juices flowing again, and what better way than with a short story? Something with a simpler plot and less time/emotional investment.
I queried through the fall. Of twelve publications, six rejected me, five didn’t reply, and one accepted. This, I gather, is par for the course. Persistence really does pay off!
My put-upon animal trader, Janek, is entirely made up. And goddamn, it was freeing to write a fully fictional character! No timelines or documentation to work around! I based his curmudgeonly attitude on Rowan Atkinson’s character Edmund Blackadder, a long-suffering servant to idiotic royals in a series of 80s British comedies. My logline for “The Zolo Hound of the Newly Found World” was “Blackadder runs a zoo”.
Laurenciana Pylmannova, however, was completely real. What little I could find of her was fascinating and still left me enough room to make up a personality.
Please read and let me know what you think, either here or over at Tall Tale TV.
Janek and Laurenciana WILL return, along with Felipe.
Or rather, still editing, just limping along a little faster than I have over the past few months. I manage to hammer out a chapter or two a week and if I can get out of my own way I can probably (probably!) finish this fourth draft by fall.
About that getting out of my own way thing.
I could pretend it’s just lack of energy that’s been holding me up, but at least part of it is fear. If I finish the draft, then I’ll have no excuse but to start querying again and I fear wasting the one pitch I get to every agent on my list with a manuscript that is less than perfect.
How I imagine agents reacting to my manuscript.
In short, it’s not being told “no” that I fear. It’s running out of opportunities to ask for a “yes”. As long as I don’t query I can luxuriate in possibility. And yes, typing it out makes it sound just as nail-bitey and tail-chasey as it is.
So I’m going to keep propping up the novel’s saggy middle so I get it back out in the world.
Which is a good question and an “old standard” topic on creative-oriented blogs and podcasts. This subject comes up time and time again because it’s a huge issue. Most ordinary mortals* have day jobs, partners, children, hobbies and/or other things I’ve not thought of that they have to balance with their creative work.
And honestly, most of them have answered this question better than I’m about to. I am so disorganized I’d forget my own name if it weren’t stenciled on the back of my fencing lamé. You’re better off asking creatives who are also mothers of small children. They have to be self-discipline and organizational ninjas in order to get a full night’s sleep, let alone anything else.
No, my big secret is that I don’t do All of the Things.
In fairness, I’m in a good position to avoid some Things. I don’t have children, for one. I also have a partner that is respectful of my time and ambitions and doesn’t get too upset if I don’t fold the laundry**. I make enough money that I can have a cleaner come in once a month so I’m not spending (as much) time on housework. This partly deliberate and partly good luck. I’m aware others may not have the advantages I have.
I’ve also made my peace with knowing that I can do, if not ALL the Things, then more of the Things…eventually. Just not all at once. My time and energy levels permit two non-day job activities. I fence because I love it and because exercise keeps the anxiety demons at bay. Of my other current passions, I can sew or write, but can’t do both.
So I’ve not sewn anything in over a year. I imagine that as writing becomes more job than hobby it will be even longer than that. But there’s always time between books, or waiting for edits, or…something. I’ll figure it out.
And I have a lot of other interests that I’ve set aside for an undetermined later time. Maybe I’ll make jewelry to go with a really great dress. Maybe if I blow out my knees I’ll take up archery***. Maybe I’ll take up painting again at some point.
All the more reason to fence – to keep myself in good enough health that I stand a chance of getting to all the things I’m interested in.
So I guess I’d recommend prioritization and a realistic assessment of what you can do in 24 hours to make sure you don’t bite off more than you can chew. And take the long view – you may not be doing something you love right this minute, but maybe in a few years you can carve out a few hours.
What about you? How do you balance your creative impulses with everyday needs?
*The J.K. Rowlings and Stephen Kings of the world are among the few writers who can make a full-time, profitable living from writing. The rest of us have to pay the bills some other way.
**I do wash my clothes! I’m not an utter slob. And if I didn’t I’d suffocate in a cloud of cat hair. The clothes just don’t always make it into dressers and closets.
***Who am I kidding, I’ll start wheelchair fencing!
I’m writing a short story. The premise of “chupacabra in Rudolf II’s court” just wouldn’t leave me alone. So I thought I’d tame the plot bunny, practice writing an (original) short story, and work out my writing muscles between books*.
But when I sat down to write it I couldn’t make it go anywhere. I described the setting. I described the chupacabra. I walked my protagonist and the chupacabra through different scenarios. I even tried naming them**. I couldn’t get any of it to cohere into something resembling a plot.
So I turned to Oblique Strategies, a card deck/randomizer developed by Brian Eno in the 1970s to help him unwind creative snags. I got “Remove ambiguities and convert to specifics”. Frustratingly vague, but enough to shatter my rigid mind.
So I noodled with specific mannerisms for my protagonist: rubbing his eyes, tugging his doublet, smoothing his (thinning hair). But what in his personality would make him do any of these?
Is he tired? Fussy about his clothing (or does it not fit)? Why do I imagine him with thinning hair? Why do I imagine him as a “he”***?
So that got me thinking about his personality, and what would lead someone of his inclinations and situation to rub his eyes, smooth his clothes, and drag a potentially deadly creature across Europe to give to an Emperor.
Which gets into backstory, because why would anyone travel with a chupacabra (threats? Prestige? Serious money? A death wish?) Which brought me back to:
The story is always about people (or aliens/animals/something standing in for people) and what motivates them, and how they act in situations they encounter or seek out. I couldn’t begin to get at a plot until I had at least some idea of character.
So now the story is moving along, if not perfectly at least better.
Don’t know what I’ll finally do with this thing – maybe it’ll just sit on my hard drive forever. But it continues to be a useful exercise.
*I’ve started research for the new book. No spoilers but I’m feeding the muse.
**Good thing I based my first novel on real people because I can’t name a damn thing. Thank doG for Scrivener’s Name Generator function.
***I already know the answer to this one: the story takes place in the sixteenth century and regrettably in most historical times and places (hell, even today) men had more freedom of movement than women.
This isn’t going to be your usual conference recap.
If I try to list names or sessions I’ll forget someone and I don’t want to risk leaving someone out or appear to play favorites. If you were there, you know who you are, and you made my third(!) HNS conference everything I dreamed it would be and more!
The weekend itself was a delightful, overwhelming blur. Many people met and re-met, many sessions attended, many ideas spawned and shaped.
I’ve not even typed up my notes yet but a few notions stand out:
Make shit up. Hammering a story arc out of Kelley and Dee’s peripatetic activities sent me down research rabbit holes that did nothing to help the story, so “permission” to focus on the fiction in historical fiction in the next book* was supremely freeing!
Do what scares you. If a project seems out of your league, you’re probably on the right track.
Say yes. To ideas, to opportunities, to something or someone you’ve not considered before. You might learn something.
Be flexible. In terms of describing your work, marketing, etc. ‘Cos my manuscript has fingers in multiple pies but doesn’t fit in any one pie tin.
Go gothic. See “be flexible” above. I always thought of “gothic” fiction as something set in the Victorian era that explored the tension between man and technology. Not so – check out these tropes. At HNS 2017 I learned I was writing historical fantasy; this year I further honed that down to gothic fiction. Makes it easier to describe this thing, that’s for damn sure!
Avoid burnout. Because I’ve been skating on the edge of it for months, and enjoy riding that edge until I hit a wall. I may turn off social media apps or designate certain times or days social media-free just for my own sanity. I may also set aside a day a week to NOT work on book-related stuff.
Stay on site, if possible. This is specific to conferences, but not just HNS. This year HNS was in my own back yard but I got a hotel room so I wouldn’t have to cut interesting conversations short to hit the road. Because guaranteed-all the really good conversation takes place after hours.
This publishing thing is incremental. I am thrilled to report that I pitched my novel and got some interest! I’ve sent pages to the relevant parties and while of course I’m hopeful I keep reminding myself: this is just a foot in the door. If it goes nowhere, that’s ok – these pitches were practice for future pitches. If this book goes nowhere, it’s ok – this book was practice for future books. If this book does get representation, that’s only one step in the long process of getting a book on shelves. It’s a cliché but overnight success is never, ever overnight.
Credit where credit is due: this is Katelyn Shelby‘s. Read the post as well.
As I type this I’m prepping for the final loop in this summer’s roller coaster: Nationals. So it’s going to take me awhile to digest everything I learned last weekend. Maybe I’ll make some headway on my to-read stack between competitions, so there’s that.
*For the next book I am going to avoid real historical figures for this reason. I’m also likely going to write the pitch/synopsis first to keep the story foremost in my mind.
The third draft. I make much ado about this third draft. It’s the one I want to have finished by next summer in time for HNS 2019. But what do I mean by “finished”?
And I’m sure when I’m done I’ll be just as relieved and exhausted as Sam. Via.
I’ve been trying to sort this out and fortunately Outwrite DC last weekend had a Sunday workshop on “Prep to Practice” about this very subject. I initially attended for ideas about how to keep butt in seat but the advice for getting to done—and knowing when I’m done—was far more useful.
“Third draft” is something of a misnomer; when I say it I mean “the third time I’ve gone over the whole thing” but there are multiple passes involved in that. Roughly, from broadest overview to tiniest detail (and I’m probably getting some wrong):
Plot: make sure the stakes are high enough for readers to care and that stuff is happening (for me, remove all bits of research showing-off and character navelgazing)
Pacing: make sure nothing drags or feels rushed
Continuity/loose ends: make sure it all makes sense
Description: where are these people? What do they look like? Make sure they’re not just moving around in a plain white room
Sense: make sure I included all five in aforementioned descriptions, where relevant
Fact check: make sure all that nitpicky alchemical stuff is correct (and how I’m going to do that is a whole separate concern)
Grammar/usage: the final and nit-pickiest, to save until last because it’s assumed in all previous stages you’ll be adding/rewriting.
I also got some good ideas for organizing all my beta reader feedback: alternately add it all to the most marked-up copy and refer back to it, OR read it all to get the gist of what multiple readers ping as a problem and proceed.
Lack of description/cold chapter openings and failure to make it clear who’s speaking are my main problems throughout, so I’m addressing these first. I think I caught most of the continuity problems on the out-loud read through, and I’m guessing (? hoping? This is more art than science!) that fixing plot and pacing is going to involve more deletion than rewriting.
As I sit here tinkering with my third draft, it occurs to me that I could be doing almost anything else. It’s summertime, time for loafing with a G&T and beach reading.
Not that I’m not doing these things, but even so this writing gig eats a lot of time for uncertain ends (and I hate uncertainty). So why do I do it?
It sure as hell isn’t for money. Kameron Hurley does a yearly breakdown of her earnings to illustrate how difficult it is to make a living as a writer. She’s an established sci-fi author with awards so I’ll count myself lucky if a newbie like me in a niche genre breaks even. No, I will always have a day job.
It’s not for fame. While I’d like recognition for a well-written book, the odds of being a J. K. Rowling or Stephen King are close to nil. Which is good for me. Celebrity appears (from the outside at least) to complicate life so much that managing it would be a whole separate job.
Speaking of well-written, more than one writer I’ve interacted with online has said that they write in order to improve their writing. This does make sense to me because I fence, an activity at which you never become expert even after years of practice. There is no graduation, you never arrive—there’s just the next lesson (writing exercise), competition (book), medal (publishing deal) etc., in an endless process of improvement.
No, I think in the end, for me, writing is about the opportunity to share ideas that intrigue me with interesting people. I love good conversation but for most of my life I didn’t feel like I had anything to contribute or any means of doing so. Writing has proved that perhaps I might and can.
I want to get a book out in the world that’s compelling enough to inspire discussion, if not with me then among readers.
Prague’s astronomical clock, because it seemed appropriate. Author’s own.
This summer marks two years since I completed my first draft, and 6 months since I finished the second. As of the end of this week I should be done with the out-loud read through of that second draft and starting rewrites for the third, technology permitting*. I want the third as perfect as possible to pitch to agents at the next HNS conference, which takes place almost exactly a year from now.
If you’re doing the math, you can see why I’m getting nervous.
And I know, I know, art takes the time it takes, take your time on your first novel because you’ll never have that luxury again, everyone works at their own pace etc. but I’m struggling to see how I can make even a part-time career for myself when I can only produce one book every six years!**
A few weeks ago I talked to a pair of writers who managed to research and write a pitch-able historical fiction novel in only two years and their turn-around time staggers me. Mind, one of them writes full-time. True, they’re experienced writers. And it’s foolish to compare oneself to others. But even so…
I don’t know how long the editing process takes on third drafts. I mean, most of it’s there so it’s not about word count anymore. I’ve even cut most of what needed cutting. I’m looking at serious rethinking of either my schedule or my goals.
Informal questions for the writers reading: how long does it take you to write something you’d feel confident submitting to an agent (or publishing, if you’re indie)? And how long have you been writing?
*Laptop problems suggest I might have problems running Word and/or Scrivener, and no replacement laptop is forthcoming at the moment
**That’s not including whatever further edits an agent might request.
True to my promise I’ve been critiquing/beta reading online and off during my break from the second draft. I’m grateful to the writers who are letting me read their works in progress. It takes nerve to share one’s writing and even more when it’s still in draft form.
After a month or so I started to notice patterns. It seems* that some errors happen across the board, regardless of genre or the writer’s experience. Seeing them elsewhere only highlights them in my own work:
No one cares about my research/”inside baseball”. I suspect histfic is more vulnerable to this because of the research needed** to understand the time period, but it’s easy to go overboard with tiny details that don’t contribute to the story. Readers aren’t interested in a room-by-room description of Dee’s home Mortlake and its number and type of servants; they’ll care that Jane Dee has problems keeping the ancient pile in good repair and getting the servants to behave.
Avoid jargon/specialized language unless I define it up front. Or at least give massive hints in context. Do you know what an athanors, pelicans, or bain maries are? I don’t want my readers to have to keep referring to Google to figure out what an alchemy lab looks like.
A story isn’t a just a blow-by-blow of activity. The séances might be line-by-line accurate to Dee’s diaries but that means nothing if I don’t show Edward Kelley’s extreme stress in making up everything on the fly. Readers won’t care – hell, I won’t care – unless he reflects, panics, and schemes over his flagrant BSing.
Select words with care to avoid repetition/adverb overload. Too often I lean on either restating or on my character doing something quickly, stupidly, angrily, etc. when if I just use better words the mood will come across. This is why my next step is reading the whole thing out loud, with red pen at the ready to strike through any unnecessary -lys.
Actual footage of a -ly hunt. Via Giphy.
*No hedging: get on with it already! See, I did it right there! Seems, appears, starting to, about to, thinking about, almost did: these slow things down when the all the reader wants is for characters to do things and stuff to happen. Except for rare exceptions of hesitation or second guessing (and gads, Edward has enough of those) these have no place in my prose.
**Passivity is a penalty: In fencing as well as prose. My tendency to convey events as having no cause is due to long years writing business emails and impersonal technical instructions. There are probably a few in every one of my blog posts despite my best efforts. “Dee was fooled” must turn into “Edwardfooled Dee“ (more than once). Ditto “the money was spent” = “Dee spent it all” (all too often). I don’t even know how I’ll find all of these, let alone get rid of them.
What about you? If you write, what’s on your “search and destroy” list for your next edit? If you read, what errors make you wince if they’re not caught***?
***More passivity. Yellow card (which is fencing “inside baseball”).
Is the book always better than the movie (or tv show)? Sometimes, maybe even often. Sometimes they’re just different.
Much as I love to read I’m a sucker for spectacle, and I first heard about Babylon Berlin in the context of its recreation of 1920s superclub Moka Efti. A Google later revealed the show’s based on a series of historical crime novels, so I decided to do my homework before the show debuted in January. I’ve enjoyed both, though they’re different creatures.
The books are a standard crime procedural from a single point of view, that of Detective Gereon Rath. Most of what I know of Weimar Germany comes from “Cabaret” so the story is a revelation of the grime under the glamour. Much of the “action” is Rath’s sleuthing and suspicions, review and realizations. This close perspective is involving to read but would likely be tedious to view.
Which is why the tv series is more of an ensemble piece: inevitable because it’s impossible to convey the characters’ inner world on screen. This “outside looking in” inherently leads to numerous side stories and subplots (some say too much, but yo, Weimar Germany was messy and scary). The writers expanded and altered some backstories (some quite a bit) but they’re still true to the characters and time/place.
Russian spy Svetlana Sorokina is one of many book characters expanded on in the tv series. This is her guise as cabaret singer “Psycho Nikoros”. I want ALL HER COSTUMES. Except for the mustache (that must itch). Via Tumblr [tangentially: BB screencaps are rarer than hen’s teeth. Get right on that internet!]I think both versions of Babylon Berlin work because they stay true to the corruption, vice, “grit beneath the glitz, no truly good guys” vibe of the books.
I think the trope of “book is always better than the movie” comes about when screenwriters aren’t true to the characters, or try to make up rules/ignore established rules for the world in which the story takes place.
What about you? Already have your favorite book cast with your favorite actors, or run screaming from any and all movie versions? Or does the movie occasionally improve upon the book (Blade Runner. Fight me)?
