External editors 101

Blog - The Author Business

Written by Sofie
Monday, 14 May 2012 00:00

 {loadpotision Icon_Business}

Two recent posts with great advice about this whole editing lark (because my weekend, when I write these posts, has been eaten by a very dear friend's wedding):

On WriteToDone, the step-by-step guide to hiring a freelance editor. And on Plot to Punctuation, a breakdown of different editing stages and what you can expect from them.

And on a lighter - but very valid - note, a post on the publishing deals you don't get to hear about.

Creating temptation

Blog - Writing Craft

Written by Sofie
Tuesday, 08 May 2012 00:02

 

When I was a child, many of the stories I read and heard of had a very common element: the protagonist being faced with a terrible temptation that they knew they had to resist in order to escape / rescue their brother / save the kingdom / whatever. It was always a terrible struggle for them to resist - they wanted what was offered, the need was near-intoxicating.

And almost without exception, I became really annoyed at the character for their difficulty, here. It was obvious; you know you shouldn't do X, so just do Y (that you came here to do), ignore X and get out as quickly as possible. Don't sit there and tempt yourself. Don't think about it, just get things done. I know there wouldn't have been much of a point to the scene if the character wasn't tempted, but it really irritated me that the characters suddenly became so stupid as to not recognise what was happening. Especially when the temptation was food.

Food is probably one of the oldest forms of temptation. It's a basic need, and many forms of it were a great luxury until very, very recently. In the periods of war and depression of the last century, merely having enough to eat was luxury enough; eating fancy items like delicate cakes or exotic fruits was absurd. And against that backdrop, for those readers, the temptation of a table full of fruits and sweets and cakes is self-supporting. It works.

But today's young readers (at least, in western culture. And let's be honest; if you're reading this blog, those who aren't in western culture aren't likely to be reading your book.) have never experienced any of that. (Not to say that poverty and hunger don't exist in the western world; clearly they do. But books and stories are a luxury item - anyone who can't get enough to eat is unlikely to be buying many books.)

That change in our culture means that food by itself really doesn't work as a temptation anymore. Young readers won't buy little Jimmy giving in and eating the cakes when he knows (and he knows that Jimmy knows) cakes are easily bought down the shops.  The temptation stops being about whether or not you'll ever experience the wonderful food, but whether you can wait half an hour. And suddenly, our character who's succumbing is extroadinarily dim-witted, childish and greedy. Which probably isn't what the author was going for.

I've only seen one example recently where the temptation of food really worked: a scene in Pan's Labyrinth, where Ofelia is presented with a wonderful buffet of food that she knows she mustn't eat. It works here because the rest of the film has gone to pains to show us the privations of the character's existence - she has no luxuries or pleasures but her books, she is treated quite overtly as the unwanted extra mouth. To be suddenly faced with an entire table of exquisite food for herself alone - the contrast brings the audience along with her. We understand, we empathise with her temptation. Even though we want her to be strong and resist, it's not unthinkable that she might find that just too difficult.

So what do we take from this? Temptation needs to play on your reader's experiences, or off a very-strongly-established world base (see Pan's Labyryith). Consider what your characters (and your readers) take for granted; what they would find difficult to give up. For example - in our digital world, instant gratification is fast becoming the norm. People would often rather download their entertainment to have it near-instantly than have it as a physical good. Arguments and spats ensue when someone doesn't respond to a communication fast enough. Entertainment - whether by games, social connections or just browsing websites, is always there (no more magazines in the bathroom). A character from this set up may find it difficult to sit and do nothing, waiting for something - and not use their phone because the signal will be detected, for example. Or take that habit of instant gratification, that need to be entertained, and export it to something slightly different in your own world - the basic need will translate across to your readers; they'll empathise.

But whatever you do, make sure what you're tempting characters with makes sense in the context you've put them.

How not to write a novel: Here comes the new plot, same as the old plot

Blog - Writing Craft

Written by Sofie
Monday, 07 May 2012 01:44

This is the lastest instalment of How Not To Write A Novel, a series that began as a review (of sorts) of a book that was too terrible to be named, broken down into all the things it did that you Really Shouldn't Do. The series is broadening to encompass the howlers in other books I've read in the meantime, but to keep things simple (and avoid unnecessary tact and diplomacy) I'm going to refer to all of them as Nameless, as identifying which books are Doing It Wrong isn't really the point, here. Previous instalments are listed here (the early ones are down the bottom of the page).

This is 'how not to write a series' rather than a novel, because plot repetition (unless you're really doing it wrong) isn't something that generally plagues published novels (mind you, don't ask how many times people ran away from random explosions in my first trunk novel). But in a series - especially one where the first book was high-concept (and therefore, the plot mainly revolved around that concept) you need to be very careful in what you choose to echo later on.

The later books in a series certainly need to call back on that first one. You need a sense that that concept - whatever it was - is still present, that there's continuity between the books, otherwise it's not much of a series. But there's a big difference between 'echo' and 're-use'. Characters who are undergoing the same trauma and journey again and again aren't going to grow - the point is to move on from there, not go back and hash over it again. It's a habit very common in 90's-era Hollywood, especially for action series that aren't big on character development and tend to be distinguished by numbers in the title - the old baddy's coming back, we gotta get the good guy on his feet and fighting to beat him all over again.

Hollywood can get away with it - audiences more often than not go to see particular actors, characters, carnage or special effects; the storyline of the movie itself doesn't have to hold that much weight. But a book doesn't have that luxury, and calling attention to its own artifice by repeating itself can be fatal for story enjoyment.

There's a very popular series at the moment that falls so far afoul of this I wonder that they didn't just put the same title on the later books with the number '2' or '3'. It's uber-high-concept, the concept is everything, and it works for the first book. The concept isn't just overshadowing in the second and third, though - the author manipulates the story to repeat the actual plot. We go back to ThePlace and we do TheThing all over again. Oh, sure, there's a slightly different ending, but most of the book is essentially an alternatve version of the first book.

Now, there's giving people more of what they liked, and then there's just repeating yourself. To me, it smacks of not having confidence to move forward with the plot into untried territory - relying on the Hollywood Blockbuster Sequal phenomenon - "Well, that movie did really well, so let's just do it again and call it ThatMovie2".

If you want to see how to avoid this, just look at the Harry Potter series. Harry keeps thwarting Voldemort. That has Beat The Bad Guy All Over Again written all over it, but Rowling prevents sequel-itis by having her characters face different challenges each book. Yes, they must defeat Voldy's latest ploy, but the manner and shape of the threat differs each time - overt or secretive, manipulative or threatening. The characters grow up a little more each book, they meet problems that bring them closer and closer to adulthood, they're challenged not just by The Bad Guy, but by their own doubts and fears, and other more ordinary and everyday relatable issues - family, romance, self-determination. Rowling takes what works so well in the first book (and it is a high concept book) and builds on it, rather than relying on it.

I've written a novel - now what? The synopsis

Blog - Writing Craft

Written by Sofie
Tuesday, 01 May 2012 00:00

Okay, so you sent out all those queries.What happens next? A hell of a lot of waiting and hand-wringing, and almost everyone will at this point tell you to start working on another book, and only pay attention to this one when it comes back snivelling, needing its nose wiped and its chin bucked amd its query revised to be sent back into the world.

But occasionally or eventually (maybe. If you're presistent, lucky, and really good. Two out of three won't really do it, here) you'll get a nibble. An editor will say they want to read more, and ask for a 'partial'. 

A 'partial' is the first portion of your novel (varies from editor to editor and it's perfectly fine to ask them how much they want. Some want just ten pages, some want ten chapters. Three chapters or ten thousand words is a common standard, but by no means a rule) along with a synopsis. (An editor who's really keen, or perhaps short on time, might ask for a 'full'. Which is your entire manuscript, usually with a synopsis.)

The synopsis is an odd beast. Like your query, it has to grab the reader and convince them that this is an interesting book to read. Unlike the query, it must actually include the ending of the book - you need to give it all away.  The catch is, you've only got about 800 words to do it. And if that's not impossible enough, your synopsis has to be engaging. It mustn't just be a laundry list of what happens in the novel. There's no room for waffling or jokes or asides, but it has to be interesting, and fit with the tone that your actual book uses.

Finding the logline and beats of your novel will help. I've written about this before: How to see what your novel's really doing parts 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5. But remember what compells us in a story isn't the external events (caveat: unless this is a concept-novel, where the 'what if' is actually the point. But even then, we still need people to actually connect to) it's the character's inner journey. The 'inside' story. Major events need to be in the synopsis to give us a grounding for what's going on, and show what's pushing our character's journey, but the real story is their arc and development.

Over on QueryTracker, Jane Lebak walks you through the creation of a synopsis for her first novel, The Guardian.

Subtext, Styles, and Snipping down your novel

Blog - Writing Craft

Written by Sofie
Monday, 30 April 2012 00:00

 

Yeah, that last one was a bit of a stretch for the 's', but alliteration is a seductive mistress. Once again, a blog post full of other people saying interesting things, because I've had a week long headache, and computer screens are unfriendly beasts at the moment. Except my laptop, because I can write novels on that without having to actually look at the screen. Anyway.

Subtext is a wily beast. We'd all like to feel our writing's rich with it, and occasionally we mistake our pen for a sledgehammer and it wanders onto the stage and starts flashing the reader through your dialogue, making little "woo-hoo!" noises while the trenchcoat's flapping in the breeze. Subtext is not a sledgehammer - and it can often weave itself into the work without you even realising (especially if your book is being read by literature students, whose marks depend on finding the damn stuff everywhere). It can add a lot of 'subconscious body' to a piece - make a scene feel more 'real', more accessible, more emotive and visceral, because we can sense what's going on under the surface. But it can be tricky to get right, especially the first few times. Over on QueryTracker, Stina Lindenblatt has some tips on creative subtext in your work.

Something all writers struggle with is figuring out how they actually write. What works for them? Should they outline first, or does that take all the fun out of it? Or, if they don't outline, maybe they'll wander around for five years not really achieving anything except massive plotholes and impossible events. Should they set aside some time every day sacred to writing? Mix it up and write at different times? Write only on weekends? Never write on weekends? Snatch time whenever they can, or wait unti they have hours to dedicate to a good sprint of writing? Do they need to get a book down fast, or does writing before the story's ready kill it in its sleep? Another QueryTracker post by Danyelle Leaftyl has some options to think about in finding how you work.

Once you've put all that imagery into the novel, however, you might find it a tad overlong. Or maybe you're in the editing stage and need to cut it down anyway. Rachelle Gardner talks about cutting your novel down relatively painlessly, but looking for words and phrases not pulling their weight. I'd add to her comments:

• where you find adverbs, you've probably chosen a weak verb. (Ie, one that isn't very descriptive, like 'run' or 'walk', and has to rely on an adverb to give it presence). Fix the verb, remove the adverb.
• ditto adjectives - if you're using two or three for a single noun, find a better noun, or find an adjective that combines the tone and visual you're looking for.
• if you're spending long passages describing a character's thoughts, consider an action to sum up those thoughts - what would a character do that shows us that's what he's thinking. That's often a lot more powerful, as it lets us put ourselves into their shoes more.
• repetition - re-explaining, re-describing, summarising, stop it. Trust your reader. 
• over-explaining. Again, your reader's not in kindergarten. Trust that they can work it out. Most readers tend to enjoy working it out, it makes them move involved with the story.

Cutting down can be a difficult process. I also like to look long and hard at each sentence and paragraph, shine a torch in its eyes and demand to know what, exactly, it's adding to the story. If it can't answer me promptly and succinctly, it goes. Waffling at this point is a definite indicator that it's there for my ego reasons (eg, because I think it's really clever or awesome) not for story reasons.