With Air Pirates in the hands of the betas, I'm thinking a lot about what to work on next. I've been putting off the decision by writing short stories. It's productive and educational and everything, but eventually I'm going to want to go back to a novel.
The question is which one? I've got two novels I can realistically go to at the moment: Joey Stone and Air Pirates 2 (working titles, both). Joey Stone would be cool, but I'm not sure the idea is ripe enough yet for me to start work on that. Or maybe it is, and I just need to get over it.
I'd rather work on AP2, but that means working on a sequel to an unpublished - possibly never-to-be-published - book. If Air Pirates fails, where will that leave the sequel and the work I put behind it? I've never written a sequel, so it would be good practice, but I'm not sure if I could write a novel knowing it would never be published.
Or maybe it could be published. Could I write AP2 in such a way that it could stand alone, apart from Air Pirates? Maybe. I mean, really, I should be writing it that way anyway because I would want new readers to be able to jump in at any point in the trilogy. But it would be a bigger risk.
But maybe the knowledge that AP might never sell is exactly the pressure I need to make AP2 capable of standing alone. I couldn't be lazy in my writing. I'd have to explain everything, but without exposition and infodumps (just like I (hopefully) did with the first one).
Hm, that's a good point, actually. I'm glad we had this talk.
Self-Publishing (or Why You Can't Read Travelers)
When people ask me how my book's going, and I start telling them about the query process and the publishing industry and how getting published is like removing a bullet from your leg with a toothpick,* often the next question is: "Have you thought about publishing it yourself?"
Answer: Yes. Many times.
I admit it's tempting. I mean, Travelers may never be published, and I know people (five of them) that want to read it. They'd probably even like it, being my friends and all.
But I'm holding out for a few reasons. Some are minor: self-publishing is expensive, it requires more time and energy, and if I got published later I couldn't put that nice little "Debut Novel" sticker on my books. Stupid, I know. If self-publishing was what I really wanted, those things wouldn't stand in my way.
One thing that does stand in my way is self-publishing's reputation. Traditional publishers give readers a guarantee, or at least a high probability, that what they're about to read is Good. Self-publishing doesn't have that. Actually, it has less than that because so much out there isn't good (according to general opinion). I know there are fantastic self-published books, and terrible traditionally-published ones, but even so, I don't want the stigma.
The other thing standing in my way is that self-publishing is not challenging enough.** The road to traditional publishing is really, really, really, really hard. And it's pushing me. In learning what it takes to get published, in seeing statistics and examples of stories that get rejected, in critiquing the works of other authors competing for the same agents I am, I have grown exponentially - more than I ever would have had I just put Travelers on Lulu.com a year ago.
There are lots of good reasons to self-publish. And for some, self-publishing is the fulfillment of their dream. I think that's awesome. Go for it. Dreams and journeys are what make life worth living.
But self-publishing is not my dream. I want to be published the regular way. I don't know why. I know the odds. Do you know how many unpublished authors have blogs like this? Probably like... well, it's a lot, and many more that don't blog. A lot of them have been trying for this longer than I have. A lot of them are better writers than I am.
I don't think I'm special. I don't assume God's going to open the doors just for me or anything. I do know I want this. And, for right now at least, self-publishing would feel like I settled, like I quit. I'm not ready to do that yet.
* i.e. anyone can do it, but it takes forever and hurts like hell.
** I know self-publishing has it's own challenges, not the least of which is peddling your own books so that they actually sell. But I'm talking about the challenge just to be published, which self-publishing by definition does not have. Anyone can do it.
Answer: Yes. Many times.
I admit it's tempting. I mean, Travelers may never be published, and I know people (five of them) that want to read it. They'd probably even like it, being my friends and all.
But I'm holding out for a few reasons. Some are minor: self-publishing is expensive, it requires more time and energy, and if I got published later I couldn't put that nice little "Debut Novel" sticker on my books. Stupid, I know. If self-publishing was what I really wanted, those things wouldn't stand in my way.
One thing that does stand in my way is self-publishing's reputation. Traditional publishers give readers a guarantee, or at least a high probability, that what they're about to read is Good. Self-publishing doesn't have that. Actually, it has less than that because so much out there isn't good (according to general opinion). I know there are fantastic self-published books, and terrible traditionally-published ones, but even so, I don't want the stigma.
The other thing standing in my way is that self-publishing is not challenging enough.** The road to traditional publishing is really, really, really, really hard. And it's pushing me. In learning what it takes to get published, in seeing statistics and examples of stories that get rejected, in critiquing the works of other authors competing for the same agents I am, I have grown exponentially - more than I ever would have had I just put Travelers on Lulu.com a year ago.
There are lots of good reasons to self-publish. And for some, self-publishing is the fulfillment of their dream. I think that's awesome. Go for it. Dreams and journeys are what make life worth living.
But self-publishing is not my dream. I want to be published the regular way. I don't know why. I know the odds. Do you know how many unpublished authors have blogs like this? Probably like... well, it's a lot, and many more that don't blog. A lot of them have been trying for this longer than I have. A lot of them are better writers than I am.
I don't think I'm special. I don't assume God's going to open the doors just for me or anything. I do know I want this. And, for right now at least, self-publishing would feel like I settled, like I quit. I'm not ready to do that yet.
* i.e. anyone can do it, but it takes forever and hurts like hell.
** I know self-publishing has it's own challenges, not the least of which is peddling your own books so that they actually sell. But I'm talking about the challenge just to be published, which self-publishing by definition does not have. Anyone can do it.
How to Not be a Meanie Head
Last time I talked about what to do when faced with meanie heads online. But why are they so mean? Interestingly, if you ask them, most people don't think they're being mean at all. "I'm just expressing my opinion," they might say. Some even believe they're helping.
Sometimes, I'm one of those people. If you read all the comments and blog posts under my name, you might find some mean, arrogant stuff - probably more than I'm aware of. I'm just trying to help people, but I come off sounding like a jerk. What am I doing wrong? How do I express my opinion without being a meanie head?
The problem, I think, is that we don't separate what we're saying from how we say it. We think "This story sucks," and so we say exactly that. Maybe we're even specific, "Your protagonist is stupid. Everything you wrote is cliche."
What if the story's not any good? Shouldn't I tell them what I think? Absolutely. If a story sucks, or a query is confusing, or someone's political beliefs drive you nuts, we're free to say so. BUT if we want people to actually listen to what we're saying, then we need to be more careful. The following are things I'm learning myself, as I try to do this very thing:
TIP #1: Assume the person you're talking to is as intelligent as you are. This is really hard, but it's fundamental. If you can't do this, see Rule #3 from last time.
TIP #2: Emphasize that it's your opinion. No matter how convinced you are that you're right, your thoughts on writing, politics, religion, agent behavior, etc. are in the end only your opinion.
TIP #3: Never say "never" (or always, or must, or you have to). There are times when these imperatives are necessary (e.g. never send Nathan a query with a rhetorical question), but for the most part they should be avoided unless you, personally, make the rules.
TIP #4: Don't be sarcastic. Sarcasm is mean and hurtful by nature. It's fine with friends, where everyone knows that everyone is joking, but not on touchy subjects. If you want people to listen, just don't do it.
Note that none of this changes what you're saying, only how you say it. So what about you guys? Any tips on how to say harsh things while still respecting the person you're talking to?
Sometimes, I'm one of those people. If you read all the comments and blog posts under my name, you might find some mean, arrogant stuff - probably more than I'm aware of. I'm just trying to help people, but I come off sounding like a jerk. What am I doing wrong? How do I express my opinion without being a meanie head?
The problem, I think, is that we don't separate what we're saying from how we say it. We think "This story sucks," and so we say exactly that. Maybe we're even specific, "Your protagonist is stupid. Everything you wrote is cliche."
What if the story's not any good? Shouldn't I tell them what I think? Absolutely. If a story sucks, or a query is confusing, or someone's political beliefs drive you nuts, we're free to say so. BUT if we want people to actually listen to what we're saying, then we need to be more careful. The following are things I'm learning myself, as I try to do this very thing:
TIP #1: Assume the person you're talking to is as intelligent as you are. This is really hard, but it's fundamental. If you can't do this, see Rule #3 from last time.
TIP #2: Emphasize that it's your opinion. No matter how convinced you are that you're right, your thoughts on writing, politics, religion, agent behavior, etc. are in the end only your opinion.
TIP #3: Never say "never" (or always, or must, or you have to). There are times when these imperatives are necessary (e.g. never send Nathan a query with a rhetorical question), but for the most part they should be avoided unless you, personally, make the rules.
TIP #4: Don't be sarcastic. Sarcasm is mean and hurtful by nature. It's fine with friends, where everyone knows that everyone is joking, but not on touchy subjects. If you want people to listen, just don't do it.
Note that none of this changes what you're saying, only how you say it. So what about you guys? Any tips on how to say harsh things while still respecting the person you're talking to?
How to Deal with Meanie Heads
The internet can be a very mean place. It's nice enough when you're with friends, but if you go to a neighborhood where nobody knows you, and then you disagree with someone there, you're liable to get your head chewed off.*
I'll be the first to admit I don't deal with stuff like this very well. When someone attacks me personally, I get upset. I get stressed out. I feel like I have to, have to set them straight if I'm going to sleep that night.
You know what? It never works.
But there's hope. I'm going to fawn all over Nathan Bransford for a moment, so feel free to skip to the end. As an agent, Nathan deals with angry people - unpublished authors who insist he listen to their pitch, or who get angry at rejection and demand an explanation. He also has a significant internet presence, which means anonymous naysayers left and right.
Yet not once have I seen Nathan whine, complain, grouse, or (let me find my thesaurus here...) cavil. When he responds, he does so with grace and humor. It's amazing, and he's become sort of my role model for Being a Nice Person.
So recently, when I was faced once again with a personal attack online, I was moved to find Nathan's post on dealing with negativity. I condensed it into rules, because I like rules.
When faced with someone who attacks you or puts you down:
* Don't believe me? Try visiting a message board devoted to science, religion, Democrats, Republicans, or query letters. Depending on where you go, tell them "Jesus doesn't believe in dinosaurs," "Jesus is a homo," "Obama doesn't believe in dinosaurs," or "Obama is Jesus," and see what happens.
At the query letters' site, just submit a query letter.
I'll be the first to admit I don't deal with stuff like this very well. When someone attacks me personally, I get upset. I get stressed out. I feel like I have to, have to set them straight if I'm going to sleep that night.
You know what? It never works.
But there's hope. I'm going to fawn all over Nathan Bransford for a moment, so feel free to skip to the end. As an agent, Nathan deals with angry people - unpublished authors who insist he listen to their pitch, or who get angry at rejection and demand an explanation. He also has a significant internet presence, which means anonymous naysayers left and right.
Yet not once have I seen Nathan whine, complain, grouse, or (let me find my thesaurus here...) cavil. When he responds, he does so with grace and humor. It's amazing, and he's become sort of my role model for Being a Nice Person.
So recently, when I was faced once again with a personal attack online, I was moved to find Nathan's post on dealing with negativity. I condensed it into rules, because I like rules.
When faced with someone who attacks you or puts you down:
- Don't complain.
- Try try try to care as little as possible.
- Don't respond.
- If you MUST respond, do so with a clear head, with sincere humor and humility. (If you can't be genuinely funny or humble, see Rule 3).
* Don't believe me? Try visiting a message board devoted to science, religion, Democrats, Republicans, or query letters. Depending on where you go, tell them "Jesus doesn't believe in dinosaurs," "Jesus is a homo," "Obama doesn't believe in dinosaurs," or "Obama is Jesus," and see what happens.
At the query letters' site, just submit a query letter.
An Inability to Manage Expectations
It doesn't matter how low my odds are, or how many times I do it, whenever I enter a contest or send out a query (which, really, is just another kind of contest), I get all hopeful and excited and daydreamy and, basically, set myself up for a let down. I can't help it. No matter how much I try to tell myself it's not gonna happen, part of me refuses to believe it.
This goes for beta reading too. Right now, Air Pirates is in the hands of real people - with eyes and thoughts. Over the next few weeks they're going to tell me what they think of it. I constantly catch myself thinking, "They're going to love it, and I'm going to send it out right away." That's stupid, I know. I've been doing this how long, and I still think someone will say it's perfect??
Of course then I go the other way. I start thinking about what they might say, and suddenly I notice everything that's wrong with the story. I know what they're going to say. Well you don't have to say it, all right? It's terrible, I know!
You see my problem? The only thing I can do is stop thinking about it, but that's hard. Especially when I talk to my beta readers. There's this voice begging me to say, "So do you like it? Oh please tell me you like it. Wait, what if you don't? Never mind, don't tell me. Oh, but I can already see it in your eyes..."
It goes on like this. Now, listen. If you're one of my beta readers, I'm not fishing for compliments or early opinions here. Don't tell me anything until you've finished reading it, really. It wouldn't help. If you liked it, I'd be all, "They like it! I'll be able to send it out, I know it. But wait, what if they get to the end and they change their mind? Oh no, they're going to be so disappointed!"
And if you were more honest, told me you didn't like it... well, that's something I deal with better if I can focus on the reasons, the critique itself.
I'm such a mess. Fortunately I have distractions today. No fireworks (the Embassy has a party, but we can't bring our kids without IDs), but there's Transformers 2 and bowling with the kids. That's a good day.
This goes for beta reading too. Right now, Air Pirates is in the hands of real people - with eyes and thoughts. Over the next few weeks they're going to tell me what they think of it. I constantly catch myself thinking, "They're going to love it, and I'm going to send it out right away." That's stupid, I know. I've been doing this how long, and I still think someone will say it's perfect??
Of course then I go the other way. I start thinking about what they might say, and suddenly I notice everything that's wrong with the story. I know what they're going to say. Well you don't have to say it, all right? It's terrible, I know!
You see my problem? The only thing I can do is stop thinking about it, but that's hard. Especially when I talk to my beta readers. There's this voice begging me to say, "So do you like it? Oh please tell me you like it. Wait, what if you don't? Never mind, don't tell me. Oh, but I can already see it in your eyes..."
It goes on like this. Now, listen. If you're one of my beta readers, I'm not fishing for compliments or early opinions here. Don't tell me anything until you've finished reading it, really. It wouldn't help. If you liked it, I'd be all, "They like it! I'll be able to send it out, I know it. But wait, what if they get to the end and they change their mind? Oh no, they're going to be so disappointed!"
And if you were more honest, told me you didn't like it... well, that's something I deal with better if I can focus on the reasons, the critique itself.
I'm such a mess. Fortunately I have distractions today. No fireworks (the Embassy has a party, but we can't bring our kids without IDs), but there's Transformers 2 and bowling with the kids. That's a good day.
High Stakes
(NOTE: I'm still looking for beta readers. If you want in, let me know soon.)
It feels like editors and agents online are constantly asking "What are the stakes?" when they look at queries or stories. For the longest time, I didn't understand what this meant. I'm still not sure, but I think I get it (though whether I can see it in my own writing is a different story).
It's like playing poker without betting. While it's a mildly interesting exercise in probability, it doesn't really matter who wins. It's boring, because nothing's at stake.
Likewise, the reader needs to know not only the protagonist's goals, but why those goals are important. What will happen if they fail? What will happen if they succeed? Why does it matter? Without that, the story (or query) is just a bunch of random stuff that happens.
Take Cars (because it's what my boys are watching right now). Lightning McQueen wants to be the first rookie to ever win the Piston Cup. That should be stakes enough, right? Well, not really. Winning is something, but just like in poker, it doesn't matter as much without something at stake.
That's why Dinoco is mentioned like 20 or 30 times. Dinoco is the big sponsor for the Piston Cup. They've got the helicopter, the glamour girls, the ritzy parties, everything. Their poster boy is retiring, and they're looking for someone new to sponsor - whoever wins the Piston Cup. This is in contrast to Lightning's current sponsor, an ointment for cars with rusty bumpers. It's gross, it's poor, and it's demeaning.
Those are the stakes. If Lightning wins, he gets fame and the high life. If he loses, he's stuck being the poster boy for old, rusty cars. Take the sponsors out, and the race doesn't have as much meaning. At least that's the idea.
So easy to see in someone else's work. So hard to see in my own.
It feels like editors and agents online are constantly asking "What are the stakes?" when they look at queries or stories. For the longest time, I didn't understand what this meant. I'm still not sure, but I think I get it (though whether I can see it in my own writing is a different story).
It's like playing poker without betting. While it's a mildly interesting exercise in probability, it doesn't really matter who wins. It's boring, because nothing's at stake.
Likewise, the reader needs to know not only the protagonist's goals, but why those goals are important. What will happen if they fail? What will happen if they succeed? Why does it matter? Without that, the story (or query) is just a bunch of random stuff that happens.
Take Cars (because it's what my boys are watching right now). Lightning McQueen wants to be the first rookie to ever win the Piston Cup. That should be stakes enough, right? Well, not really. Winning is something, but just like in poker, it doesn't matter as much without something at stake.
That's why Dinoco is mentioned like 20 or 30 times. Dinoco is the big sponsor for the Piston Cup. They've got the helicopter, the glamour girls, the ritzy parties, everything. Their poster boy is retiring, and they're looking for someone new to sponsor - whoever wins the Piston Cup. This is in contrast to Lightning's current sponsor, an ointment for cars with rusty bumpers. It's gross, it's poor, and it's demeaning.
Those are the stakes. If Lightning wins, he gets fame and the high life. If he loses, he's stuck being the poster boy for old, rusty cars. Take the sponsors out, and the race doesn't have as much meaning. At least that's the idea.
So easy to see in someone else's work. So hard to see in my own.
Wanted: Beta Readers for Air Pirates
Chapters: All of them
Scenes: All of them
Words murdered: All of... I mean, 6016 (6%)
Time I said I'd be editing: 5 weeks
Time I actually spent editing: 12 weeks
Time I spent on this novel so far: 22 months
Time before I send it out: Withholding judgment until I hear what the betas think
-----------------------------------------
It's time! The (1st) Editing Phase of Air Pirates is over. Now to the Beta Phase, for which I need some of you. If you want to be part of my team of Beta Readers, now is your chance.
As a Beta Reader, your task will be to read a 94,000 word manuscript (that's longer than Harry Potter 2, but shorter than Harry Potter 3) and tell me what you think of it within a reasonable amount of time.
Telling me what you think means telling me what's working or not working in the story - whatever you notice and whatever I don't notice because I'm too close to it.
It doesn't mean saying "I love it!" or "This sucks!" It will mean being specific and (preferably) being nice.
It also doesn't mean you have to be an editor or even a writer. If you like to read, then your opinion matters.
A reasonable amount of time, in this case, is about 6 weeks. That's just what I'm asking for. If you miss it, the worst that might happen is I'll move on without your input.
If this sounds like something you want to do, e-mail me: adamheine at Gmail. If you have questions, I'll answer them in the comments.
Almost forgot. For those of you unfamiliar with Air Pirates, here's the current (albeit outdated and kinda rough) blurb:
Scenes: All of them
Words murdered: All of... I mean, 6016 (6%)
Time I said I'd be editing: 5 weeks
Time I actually spent editing: 12 weeks
Time I spent on this novel so far: 22 months
Time before I send it out: Withholding judgment until I hear what the betas think
-----------------------------------------
It's time! The (1st) Editing Phase of Air Pirates is over. Now to the Beta Phase, for which I need some of you. If you want to be part of my team of Beta Readers, now is your chance.
As a Beta Reader, your task will be to read a 94,000 word manuscript (that's longer than Harry Potter 2, but shorter than Harry Potter 3) and tell me what you think of it within a reasonable amount of time.
Telling me what you think means telling me what's working or not working in the story - whatever you notice and whatever I don't notice because I'm too close to it.
It doesn't mean saying "I love it!" or "This sucks!" It will mean being specific and (preferably) being nice.
It also doesn't mean you have to be an editor or even a writer. If you like to read, then your opinion matters.
A reasonable amount of time, in this case, is about 6 weeks. That's just what I'm asking for. If you miss it, the worst that might happen is I'll move on without your input.
If this sounds like something you want to do, e-mail me: adamheine at Gmail. If you have questions, I'll answer them in the comments.
Almost forgot. For those of you unfamiliar with Air Pirates, here's the current (albeit outdated and kinda rough) blurb:
No one's ever cared about Hagai's birthday, least of all Hagai. So on his 21st he's surprised to receive a stone that gives chance visions of the future. He has no idea why his mother sent it to him - or how, since she was killed eighteen years ago. Though Hagai's never done anything braver than put peppers in his stew, he sets out to find her hoping she's alive. Unfortunately, he's now the target of sky sailors and air pirates who want the stone for themselves. If the sky'lers get it, he'll have no way to find his mother. But to keep it, Hagai faces being crushed by an airship, being beaten to death by pirates, and having his throat slit by a wanted sky'ler named Sam Draper - and that's only the first day.
When Sam nicks the stone, Hagai tracks him down and demands it back - politely, of course, because Sam still has the knife. Sam refuses, but Hagai surprises them both by asking to fly with him. Unable to make the stone work himself, Sam agrees. Now Hagai, who grew up wanting nothing to do with sky'lers, is crew to one and fugitive from both pirates and police. Harrowed by visions of his own death, Hagai is nonetheless determined to change the future and find his mother, if she's still alive.
Infodumps
One of my favorite parts of writing sci-fi/fantasy is worldbuilding. I love drawing maps, brainstorming magic systems, writing legends, determining technologies... It's like playing Civ, except I can't lose.
The hard part is figuring out how to relay this information to the reader. The most common (and wrong) method I see, both in my writing and others, is the infodump. Where the story just stops, and we have to read a page or two of the history of the Elven nation, or a treatise on the Foobarian language, or a detailed explanation of teleportation technology.
It's not our fault. Our favorite authors do it all the time. Like every chapter in Asimov's Foundation and Empire starts with an infodump, and don't even get me started on Tolkien.
Even so, we're told not to do it, or not to do it very much, or to do it in such a way that the reader doesn't realize we're doing it. How do we do that?
One way, I think, is to work with the reader strictly on a need-to-know basis. Don't tell them anything about the world except what they need to know to understand this part of the story. If the entire story takes place on a single planet, don't talk about the history of the Galactic Empire's colonization efforts. Don't describe the detailed rules of magic if the protagonist never has to think of them. Don't discuss the fishing habits of Tartarians just because the protagonist gets on a boat.
It's hard, I know. We spent all this time building this world, and we can't share it with the reader. Sorry, but it's true. The reader doesn't care about the details of our world. They care about the characters and the story. If they love them, then maybe they'll be interested in the world, but usually not the other way around.
It means some things will never be shared. Or maybe they'll only ever be shared in an appendix or on your blog. But it means the story will be shared, and isn't that the main thing?
The hard part is figuring out how to relay this information to the reader. The most common (and wrong) method I see, both in my writing and others, is the infodump. Where the story just stops, and we have to read a page or two of the history of the Elven nation, or a treatise on the Foobarian language, or a detailed explanation of teleportation technology.
It's not our fault. Our favorite authors do it all the time. Like every chapter in Asimov's Foundation and Empire starts with an infodump, and don't even get me started on Tolkien.
Even so, we're told not to do it, or not to do it very much, or to do it in such a way that the reader doesn't realize we're doing it. How do we do that?
One way, I think, is to work with the reader strictly on a need-to-know basis. Don't tell them anything about the world except what they need to know to understand this part of the story. If the entire story takes place on a single planet, don't talk about the history of the Galactic Empire's colonization efforts. Don't describe the detailed rules of magic if the protagonist never has to think of them. Don't discuss the fishing habits of Tartarians just because the protagonist gets on a boat.
It's hard, I know. We spent all this time building this world, and we can't share it with the reader. Sorry, but it's true. The reader doesn't care about the details of our world. They care about the characters and the story. If they love them, then maybe they'll be interested in the world, but usually not the other way around.
It means some things will never be shared. Or maybe they'll only ever be shared in an appendix or on your blog. But it means the story will be shared, and isn't that the main thing?
Making Money with Little Time
Chapters Edited: 25
Scenes Edited: 84
Words Murdered: 5074 (5.7%)
Jailbreaks: 3
Betrayals: 8
Make-ups: 2
Times Hagai wishes he stayed home: I lost count
---------------------------------------------------
My laptop's dying. I'm thinking about getting a new one, but because I live primarily on the good will of those who share our vision, I don't have a lot of money to do that with. I made a short list of things I can do, trying to figure out a way to make money in the limited time I have. One of them was freelance writing.
I've never really looked at the freelance writing world before. I found some websites where people can request and bid on freelance jobs. It was kind of depressing. I saw a job to write one-thousand 500-word articles for 5 cents each, and another requesting 20-50 blog comments per day, on various blogs under different usernames. The bidders weren't much better, often promoting themselves with statements like: "I am experenced copyrighter with obvius skill in sentance structure and grammar."
Obviously this isn't representative of the freelancing world, but to avoid writing crap web content for 0.01 cents per word I have to build a portfolio or submit to the slush pile of magazines. My problem with that is I already have a job (foster care), and am simultaneously trying to start a career in another one (fiction writing).
For most(?) folks, when their writing career starts to take off, they quit their day job to devote time to it. I can't quit, and I don't want to. So a lot of this is out.
Ah, but at the bottom of my short list, with no cons to speak of, was "Write short stories." It's more difficult than freelancing (or most of the other things on my list), but it pays better, it uses a skill I'm already actively improving, and, most importantly, I like doing it.
I don't know yet if I will go back to that. My last attempt didn't go so well, but then I didn't really put any effort behind it. If I try again, I'm going to really try.
In the meantime, I'm only 3 chapters away from Air Pirates' beta phase, so... WHEE!
Scenes Edited: 84
Words Murdered: 5074 (5.7%)
Jailbreaks: 3
Betrayals: 8
Make-ups: 2
Times Hagai wishes he stayed home: I lost count
---------------------------------------------------
My laptop's dying. I'm thinking about getting a new one, but because I live primarily on the good will of those who share our vision, I don't have a lot of money to do that with. I made a short list of things I can do, trying to figure out a way to make money in the limited time I have. One of them was freelance writing.
I've never really looked at the freelance writing world before. I found some websites where people can request and bid on freelance jobs. It was kind of depressing. I saw a job to write one-thousand 500-word articles for 5 cents each, and another requesting 20-50 blog comments per day, on various blogs under different usernames. The bidders weren't much better, often promoting themselves with statements like: "I am experenced copyrighter with obvius skill in sentance structure and grammar."
Obviously this isn't representative of the freelancing world, but to avoid writing crap web content for 0.01 cents per word I have to build a portfolio or submit to the slush pile of magazines. My problem with that is I already have a job (foster care), and am simultaneously trying to start a career in another one (fiction writing).
For most(?) folks, when their writing career starts to take off, they quit their day job to devote time to it. I can't quit, and I don't want to. So a lot of this is out.
Ah, but at the bottom of my short list, with no cons to speak of, was "Write short stories." It's more difficult than freelancing (or most of the other things on my list), but it pays better, it uses a skill I'm already actively improving, and, most importantly, I like doing it.
I don't know yet if I will go back to that. My last attempt didn't go so well, but then I didn't really put any effort behind it. If I try again, I'm going to really try.
In the meantime, I'm only 3 chapters away from Air Pirates' beta phase, so... WHEE!
Up and Interpretations of a Story
Chapters Edited: 20
Scenes Edited: 67
Words Murdered: 5078 (6.6%)
People whose butt Sam has kicked: 42
People who've kicked Sam's butt: 2
People whose butt Hagai has kicked: 0
---------------------------------------------
Last time, I chided George Lucas for revising Star Wars after they'd been released to the public saying, "Once it's out there, it's no longer yours." What I mean is that the story you write, and the story someone else reads (or watches), are two entirely different things.
Here's an example. My wife and I went to see Pixar's Up last Friday. Up is about a retired old man named Carl. His wife and childhood sweetheart dies; they couldn't have children, so he's alone now. For her sake, he decides to go on the adventure they always said they would go on but never did. Along the way, he learns that the seemingly boring things in life are what make memories - they're the real adventure.
My wife and I had different reactions to it. Superficially, I liked the airships, and she didn't like the talking dogs, but then we started talking about it and discovered we had different ideas about what was important.
I liked that Carl pursued his dream, doing what he'd always longed to do. I also liked the relationship he formed with Russell, the young boy who went with him. These are themes I'm commonly drawn to: doing what you're born to do and fatherhood, which says a lot more about me than the movie.
Cindy, on the other hand, was more interested in Carl's relationship with his wife. To her, the fulfillment of the wife's lifelong dream was more important than anything else, so when Carl chose to set the dream aside in order to rescue a bird that had become important to Russell, she kind of lost interest.
And the thing is, she's not wrong. She latched on to what she had brought to the movie, just like I did. In both cases, we got things out of the movie that were not its primary focus - were maybe never intended by the creators at all.
That's what I mean. Once someone else reads your story, it becomes something different, something that belongs to them. You can revise it, but in doing so you may wipe out the story they thought they had read. If it's a beta reader or something, they'll understand. If it's a fan of 20 years[, George,] they won't.
Sigh... I liked that Han shot first. It made him cooler.
Scenes Edited: 67
Words Murdered: 5078 (6.6%)
People whose butt Sam has kicked: 42
People who've kicked Sam's butt: 2
People whose butt Hagai has kicked: 0
---------------------------------------------
Last time, I chided George Lucas for revising Star Wars after they'd been released to the public saying, "Once it's out there, it's no longer yours." What I mean is that the story you write, and the story someone else reads (or watches), are two entirely different things.
Here's an example. My wife and I went to see Pixar's Up last Friday. Up is about a retired old man named Carl. His wife and childhood sweetheart dies; they couldn't have children, so he's alone now. For her sake, he decides to go on the adventure they always said they would go on but never did. Along the way, he learns that the seemingly boring things in life are what make memories - they're the real adventure.
My wife and I had different reactions to it. Superficially, I liked the airships, and she didn't like the talking dogs, but then we started talking about it and discovered we had different ideas about what was important.
I liked that Carl pursued his dream, doing what he'd always longed to do. I also liked the relationship he formed with Russell, the young boy who went with him. These are themes I'm commonly drawn to: doing what you're born to do and fatherhood, which says a lot more about me than the movie.
Cindy, on the other hand, was more interested in Carl's relationship with his wife. To her, the fulfillment of the wife's lifelong dream was more important than anything else, so when Carl chose to set the dream aside in order to rescue a bird that had become important to Russell, she kind of lost interest.
And the thing is, she's not wrong. She latched on to what she had brought to the movie, just like I did. In both cases, we got things out of the movie that were not its primary focus - were maybe never intended by the creators at all.
That's what I mean. Once someone else reads your story, it becomes something different, something that belongs to them. You can revise it, but in doing so you may wipe out the story they thought they had read. If it's a beta reader or something, they'll understand. If it's a fan of 20 years[, George,] they won't.
Sigh... I liked that Han shot first. It made him cooler.
Making It Good Enough
Nathan Bransford recently asked: How do you know when your novel is done? The trick, I think, is not to make it perfect, but to know when it's good enough.
When I was a programmer, I was taught that you can accomplish 80% of a task with 20% of the work, but the remaining 20% of the task (i.e. trying to make it perfect) will take another 80% of work. Once you've hit 80% of perfection, each percent after that is harder to earn. This is true of any creative task, I think.
The real trick is knowing there is no 100%. You can't write the perfect book, but you can write the best book possible at your current level. Once you've done that, you need to put that book down and write another book, a better book, at your new current level.
Some authors are good at this. You can tell by reading their backlist and seeing how they've improved. I don't know any authors who are bad at this, but I am going to pick on one example of what not to do: George Lucas.
Lucas has made at least two major revisions to the original trilogy since they were first released 30 years ago. Whether you like the revisions or not, they made a lot of people very angry. Why? Because the originals were good enough.
The big lesson here, of course, is not to change something that's been released to the public. Once it's out there, it's no longer yours. But even for those of us who haven't released anything, there's an important lesson: Move On. It will make you a better writer.
When I was a programmer, I was taught that you can accomplish 80% of a task with 20% of the work, but the remaining 20% of the task (i.e. trying to make it perfect) will take another 80% of work. Once you've hit 80% of perfection, each percent after that is harder to earn. This is true of any creative task, I think.
The real trick is knowing there is no 100%. You can't write the perfect book, but you can write the best book possible at your current level. Once you've done that, you need to put that book down and write another book, a better book, at your new current level.
Some authors are good at this. You can tell by reading their backlist and seeing how they've improved. I don't know any authors who are bad at this, but I am going to pick on one example of what not to do: George Lucas.
Lucas has made at least two major revisions to the original trilogy since they were first released 30 years ago. Whether you like the revisions or not, they made a lot of people very angry. Why? Because the originals were good enough.
The big lesson here, of course, is not to change something that's been released to the public. Once it's out there, it's no longer yours. But even for those of us who haven't released anything, there's an important lesson: Move On. It will make you a better writer.
Getting Critiqued
Chapters Edited: 19
Scenes Edited: 60
Words Murdered: 4493 (6.5%)
Cliff Dives: 1
BASE Jumps: 1
Bungee Jumps: 1
Motocross Flips: 0 (gotcha)
Times I've had to delete the words "He took a deep breath" before a character does something scary: 8 (I'm a fan of breathing, apparently)
------------------------------------
I've talked before about how poorly I deal with critiques. It's one of the things that keeps me from thinking like a pro.
I'm thinking about this again because serious critique time is coming. When I've finished editing in a few weeks, I'll have to send this out to beta readers and take whatever they dish out.
I got a taste of that the other day at Evil Editor again, where the beginning of Air Pirates went up (along with a humorous continuation in blue text). I don't mind the comments on grammar, on not telling things twice, on the fact that almost everyone took the first sentence literally - those are easy changes. I see those comments and go, "Oh yeah, how'd I miss that?"
It's the big comments that are hard to hear. The ones that suggest the opening is boring, nothing happens. At first it's hard to hear because I never want to hear what's wrong (which is stupid - that's the whole point of being critiqued in the first place). But once I get over that, it's still hard because I have to figure out what to do about it.
Natalie pointed out to me, quite rightly, that these are opinions - not every book has to start fast and furious. There was even one commenter who really liked it. And I like it, sort of, but only a few pages in, when the slow start pays off.
At the same time, if a lot of people have the same opinion, then it's something I need to consider changing. Can I start closer to the action without losing any of the character development? Probably, but I don't know how yet.
I've also joined Critters, an online critique group for SF/F/H, where I hope to find some beta readers (don't worry, I'll post a call for beta readers here too). It's cool because I'll get practice critiquing, which is helpful for so many reasons even though it takes time. But, like all other requests for criticism, it's really, really scary.
Geez. The things I do to satisfy this dream of mine.
Scenes Edited: 60
Words Murdered: 4493 (6.5%)
Cliff Dives: 1
BASE Jumps: 1
Bungee Jumps: 1
Motocross Flips: 0 (gotcha)
Times I've had to delete the words "He took a deep breath" before a character does something scary: 8 (I'm a fan of breathing, apparently)
------------------------------------
I've talked before about how poorly I deal with critiques. It's one of the things that keeps me from thinking like a pro.
I'm thinking about this again because serious critique time is coming. When I've finished editing in a few weeks, I'll have to send this out to beta readers and take whatever they dish out.
I got a taste of that the other day at Evil Editor again, where the beginning of Air Pirates went up (along with a humorous continuation in blue text). I don't mind the comments on grammar, on not telling things twice, on the fact that almost everyone took the first sentence literally - those are easy changes. I see those comments and go, "Oh yeah, how'd I miss that?"
It's the big comments that are hard to hear. The ones that suggest the opening is boring, nothing happens. At first it's hard to hear because I never want to hear what's wrong (which is stupid - that's the whole point of being critiqued in the first place). But once I get over that, it's still hard because I have to figure out what to do about it.
Natalie pointed out to me, quite rightly, that these are opinions - not every book has to start fast and furious. There was even one commenter who really liked it. And I like it, sort of, but only a few pages in, when the slow start pays off.
At the same time, if a lot of people have the same opinion, then it's something I need to consider changing. Can I start closer to the action without losing any of the character development? Probably, but I don't know how yet.
I've also joined Critters, an online critique group for SF/F/H, where I hope to find some beta readers (don't worry, I'll post a call for beta readers here too). It's cool because I'll get practice critiquing, which is helpful for so many reasons even though it takes time. But, like all other requests for criticism, it's really, really scary.
Geez. The things I do to satisfy this dream of mine.
Dialogue Algorithm
One of the common problems I've found while editing is an imbalance in my dialogue tags.
Early in the manuscript, I had too many tags - extraneous 'he said/she said's that (I know now) clutter the writing. I think I thought they added rhythm.
Later on, I found a lot of strong verbs. These aren't inherently bad, but there shouldn't be one on every line (as per my own advice).
Towards the middle of the manuscript, it seemed like every line had a dialogue tag inserted midsentence (this one I know was for rhythm).
It's like, every time I learned some new thing to do in dialogue, I got all excited about it and did it too freaking much.
Okay, so here's my "Less is More" algorithm. We'll see how well this works:
Anyway, I already see problems with this. What about establishing place? What about rhythm? This is still very much an art, but maybe with this algorithm I can come up with better dialogue on a first run than I (apparently) have been.
Early in the manuscript, I had too many tags - extraneous 'he said/she said's that (I know now) clutter the writing. I think I thought they added rhythm.
Later on, I found a lot of strong verbs. These aren't inherently bad, but there shouldn't be one on every line (as per my own advice).
Towards the middle of the manuscript, it seemed like every line had a dialogue tag inserted midsentence (this one I know was for rhythm).
It's like, every time I learned some new thing to do in dialogue, I got all excited about it and did it too freaking much.
Okay, so here's my "Less is More" algorithm. We'll see how well this works:
- Write dialogue such that the speaker's identity, emotion, and expression are clear without the need of dialogue tags.
- If it is impossible to make the speaker's identity clear through dialogue alone, add a simple tag (e.g. he said, she said). Add the first one on the end of the sentence, the next one in the front, the third in the middle. Alternate "Sam said" with "said Sam".
- If it is impossible to make the speaker's emotion or expression clear through dialogue alone, add an action sentence to the dialogue.
- If an action sentence is inappropriate or inadequate, use a dialogue tag with a strong verb (e.g. "he shouted", "he challenged").
- If the English verb does not exist to express the appropriate emotion or expression, use an adverb (e.g. "he said happily").
- Never use step 2 three times in a row.
- Never use steps 3, 4, or 5 twice in a row.
- Just to be safe, don't use steps 2, 3, 4, or 5 on every other line either.
Anyway, I already see problems with this. What about establishing place? What about rhythm? This is still very much an art, but maybe with this algorithm I can come up with better dialogue on a first run than I (apparently) have been.
Believing in a World
Chapters Edited: 15
Scenes Edited: 47
Words Murdered: 2904 (5.2%)
Confirmed Kills: 1 (Geez, that's it?)
Mutinies: 1
Authority figures Sam has a problem with: All of them
---------------------------
A writer has to believe in their story. That's a given. A writer has to believe in their world - that's a corollary. But how far does that go? Tolkien wrote about immortal elves that left our world behind. Orson Scott Card described a future endangered by buglike aliens and saved by a pre-teen genius. But they didn't believe these things were really true.
Or did they?
When I was planning Air Pirates, I discovered that, while the worlds I created didn't have to be real, I needed to believe they could be.
The Air Pirates world sprung out of science fiction. I needed a world that was like Earth, but wasn't. At the same time, I didn't want to just take Earth and rename it. If names, cultures, and languages were going to be like Earth's, there should be a reason, I thought. I wanted the people of Air Pirates to be from Earth.
And so they are. They're distant descendants of Earth, whose ancestors arrived on the planet via a generation ship, though they don't know it. Nearly all of their knowledge was lost when the generation ship crashed into the sea.
Here's where it gets weird (or where I get weird - take your pick). The survivors lost everything - technology, history, even theology... and that was my problem. I'm a committed Christian, and so believe that God created us for a purpose, with an end in mind. The traditional end being, of course, the horrors and glories found in Revelation, when Jesus returns and God ends this world.
But I've read lots of stories that don't fit - and in many cases, outright reject - this worldview, and I've never had a problem with it. My capacity for belief-suspension is pretty dang high. But for some reason, I couldn't write about a world where clearly the Bible was wrong. My heart wasn't in it.
So I included God in my world. Not just by giving them religion, but by imagining how a forgotten colony could fit into God's plan. If a remnant of humanity left Earth, wouldn't God send his Word with them too, somehow? Though all their history was lost?
Enter the Brothers and Sisters of Saint Jude. Decades after the crash, when civilization had stabilized and the first generation had almost passed away, a group of people came together and tried to reconstruct the Bible. Knowing their project to be imperfect, they named the result the Incommensurate Word of God.
Air Pirates isn't about all this stuff. The monks only show up in one chapter, and their history is only briefly mentioned as world candy. The origins of the world aren't even touched on (in this book).
But they're there. They have to be, for me.
Anyone else get weird about their world building like this? Or maybe you have your own (less weird) world building stories to share?
Scenes Edited: 47
Words Murdered: 2904 (5.2%)
Confirmed Kills: 1 (Geez, that's it?)
Mutinies: 1
Authority figures Sam has a problem with: All of them
---------------------------
A writer has to believe in their story. That's a given. A writer has to believe in their world - that's a corollary. But how far does that go? Tolkien wrote about immortal elves that left our world behind. Orson Scott Card described a future endangered by buglike aliens and saved by a pre-teen genius. But they didn't believe these things were really true.
Or did they?
When I was planning Air Pirates, I discovered that, while the worlds I created didn't have to be real, I needed to believe they could be.
The Air Pirates world sprung out of science fiction. I needed a world that was like Earth, but wasn't. At the same time, I didn't want to just take Earth and rename it. If names, cultures, and languages were going to be like Earth's, there should be a reason, I thought. I wanted the people of Air Pirates to be from Earth.
And so they are. They're distant descendants of Earth, whose ancestors arrived on the planet via a generation ship, though they don't know it. Nearly all of their knowledge was lost when the generation ship crashed into the sea.
Here's where it gets weird (or where I get weird - take your pick). The survivors lost everything - technology, history, even theology... and that was my problem. I'm a committed Christian, and so believe that God created us for a purpose, with an end in mind. The traditional end being, of course, the horrors and glories found in Revelation, when Jesus returns and God ends this world.
But I've read lots of stories that don't fit - and in many cases, outright reject - this worldview, and I've never had a problem with it. My capacity for belief-suspension is pretty dang high. But for some reason, I couldn't write about a world where clearly the Bible was wrong. My heart wasn't in it.
So I included God in my world. Not just by giving them religion, but by imagining how a forgotten colony could fit into God's plan. If a remnant of humanity left Earth, wouldn't God send his Word with them too, somehow? Though all their history was lost?
Enter the Brothers and Sisters of Saint Jude. Decades after the crash, when civilization had stabilized and the first generation had almost passed away, a group of people came together and tried to reconstruct the Bible. Knowing their project to be imperfect, they named the result the Incommensurate Word of God.
Air Pirates isn't about all this stuff. The monks only show up in one chapter, and their history is only briefly mentioned as world candy. The origins of the world aren't even touched on (in this book).
But they're there. They have to be, for me.
Anyone else get weird about their world building like this? Or maybe you have your own (less weird) world building stories to share?
Halfway Done and Silver Phoenix
Chapters Edited: 14
Scenes Edited: 41
Words Murdered: 2,576 (5.1%)
Visions Hagai has seen in the stone: 5
Visions where Hagai gets beat up or dies: 4
Visions where good things happen: 0
----------------------------------------------
One of my first bosses once told me, "When your boss tell you to estimate how long a task will take, double what you think it will take and tell them that." I found that to be true in later jobs, and it's still true here.
I once said the full read-through of Air Pirates would take me 1-4 weeks. Yesterday was the 4 week mark, and I am now halfway through. So it would seem my boss was right.
In other news (and other references to previous posts), I found a book trailer that I think is kind of cool. It's for a book called Silver Phoenix, about a young girl in ancient China with hidden powers who tries to find and fulfill her destiny. Here, check it out:
This works, I think, because everything seems to fit the tone of the book. There's no weak voice-over. The images look like they would fit in the world without being too specific. The music, too, feels very Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; it helps that the whole story has that Chinese mythical feel about it. I really like the Chinese-to-English text fade they do in the middle, too.
Finally, the only glimpses we get of characters look just like the girl on the cover.
I haven't read the book (it's not exactly carried in my local Thai bookstore), but it sounds like something I'd enjoy. Natalie even said it reminded her of Miyazaki's work, which is like saying to me, "Here, Adam, would you like some crack with that cocaine?" (Note to my mom: I don't do drugs. I do like Asian folklore though, perhaps too much).
This is the author's debut novel, which I like of course because I hope to be in the same place someday. She is doing a contest on her blog, giving away a copy of the book as well as some of her cool paintings for telling others about her book (like I'm doing).
Anyway, I don't get books often, but I do keep a list of what I want, so I don't forget things. Silver Phoenix has made the list, and that's no small thing.
Scenes Edited: 41
Words Murdered: 2,576 (5.1%)
Visions Hagai has seen in the stone: 5
Visions where Hagai gets beat up or dies: 4
Visions where good things happen: 0
----------------------------------------------
One of my first bosses once told me, "When your boss tell you to estimate how long a task will take, double what you think it will take and tell them that." I found that to be true in later jobs, and it's still true here.
I once said the full read-through of Air Pirates would take me 1-4 weeks. Yesterday was the 4 week mark, and I am now halfway through. So it would seem my boss was right.
In other news (and other references to previous posts), I found a book trailer that I think is kind of cool. It's for a book called Silver Phoenix, about a young girl in ancient China with hidden powers who tries to find and fulfill her destiny. Here, check it out:
This works, I think, because everything seems to fit the tone of the book. There's no weak voice-over. The images look like they would fit in the world without being too specific. The music, too, feels very Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; it helps that the whole story has that Chinese mythical feel about it. I really like the Chinese-to-English text fade they do in the middle, too.
Finally, the only glimpses we get of characters look just like the girl on the cover.
I haven't read the book (it's not exactly carried in my local Thai bookstore), but it sounds like something I'd enjoy. Natalie even said it reminded her of Miyazaki's work, which is like saying to me, "Here, Adam, would you like some crack with that cocaine?" (Note to my mom: I don't do drugs. I do like Asian folklore though, perhaps too much).
This is the author's debut novel, which I like of course because I hope to be in the same place someday. She is doing a contest on her blog, giving away a copy of the book as well as some of her cool paintings for telling others about her book (like I'm doing).
Anyway, I don't get books often, but I do keep a list of what I want, so I don't forget things. Silver Phoenix has made the list, and that's no small thing.
Content Ratings
(No statistics today. Sorry, Natalie.)
Books don't have content ratings the way movies do, but I often think of them in the same terms. The question today is what level of sex/violence/language do you typically write or prefer to read?
Violence
There's a lot of action in my stories, and I'm not afraid to write about people beating the crap out of each other. People get shot, crack their skulls on pavement, slit each other's throats, and even die in childbirth.*
That said, I think the violence in my writing remains mostly PG-13.** In movies, the difference between PG-13 and R is not necessarily what happens, but how much you show of it and how much blood there is. It's the same idea in books (or would be, if there were a rating system). If a major character gets a sword in their gut, and you spend a paragraph describing what comes out, or the excruciating pain they're going through, it's the equivalent of a rated R scene. But if a minor no-name gets "sliced" during a battle and "doesn't get up," it's PG-13 - even though the same thing happened.
So I'll write as violent the story calls for, but how much I show will depend on the tone of the story. Most of Air Pirates is pretty light, so I keep the violence light, but it has its dark spots too.
Language
In movies and books, language doesn't bother me at all for some reason. Even so, I keep the language in my books at PG-13 level (e.g. no sh-words or f-bombs, but damn and hell are okay). A lot of that is due to my alpha reader who physically hates reading bad words. It's actually good because it forces me to think before I make a character swear, and when they do, it's far more effective.
Alternatively, I could make up a whole new slang, like I did for Air Pirates. That way my characters can swear all the time without offending the ear (at least the American ear - some of AP's swear words are borrowed/modified from the British). You have to be careful with this though. Made-up swearing is hard to do right. I have no doubt that some Air Pirates' slang just sounds stupid.
Sex
I don't like watching explicit sex, and I'd rather not read it in books. They just aren't images I want in my head. (Though having said that, sex scenes in books don't affect me as strongly as the visual images in a movie).
So I almost never write sex scenes either. When I do, it's strictly fade-to-black PG stuff. There's none in Travelers, and Air Pirates has only two scenes that come close. In one, a woman gets attacked - attempted rape is implied, but never said out loud and never shown. The other is essentially: "They kissed. They didn't come out for a long time."
No, I won't be writing erotica anytime soon.
Summary
I should add that I'll read anything (hello, Song of Ice and Fire). These are my preferences. Not surprisingly, I tend to write what I like to read. So what about you?
* But no knees; I can't stand knees. None of my characters ever get shot in the knee or break their knees. If someday one of them does, it will mean I have grown as a writer and a person.
** I'm using the American rating system. It's the only one I'm familiar with.
Books don't have content ratings the way movies do, but I often think of them in the same terms. The question today is what level of sex/violence/language do you typically write or prefer to read?
Violence
There's a lot of action in my stories, and I'm not afraid to write about people beating the crap out of each other. People get shot, crack their skulls on pavement, slit each other's throats, and even die in childbirth.*
That said, I think the violence in my writing remains mostly PG-13.** In movies, the difference between PG-13 and R is not necessarily what happens, but how much you show of it and how much blood there is. It's the same idea in books (or would be, if there were a rating system). If a major character gets a sword in their gut, and you spend a paragraph describing what comes out, or the excruciating pain they're going through, it's the equivalent of a rated R scene. But if a minor no-name gets "sliced" during a battle and "doesn't get up," it's PG-13 - even though the same thing happened.
So I'll write as violent the story calls for, but how much I show will depend on the tone of the story. Most of Air Pirates is pretty light, so I keep the violence light, but it has its dark spots too.
Language
In movies and books, language doesn't bother me at all for some reason. Even so, I keep the language in my books at PG-13 level (e.g. no sh-words or f-bombs, but damn and hell are okay). A lot of that is due to my alpha reader who physically hates reading bad words. It's actually good because it forces me to think before I make a character swear, and when they do, it's far more effective.
Alternatively, I could make up a whole new slang, like I did for Air Pirates. That way my characters can swear all the time without offending the ear (at least the American ear - some of AP's swear words are borrowed/modified from the British). You have to be careful with this though. Made-up swearing is hard to do right. I have no doubt that some Air Pirates' slang just sounds stupid.
Sex
I don't like watching explicit sex, and I'd rather not read it in books. They just aren't images I want in my head. (Though having said that, sex scenes in books don't affect me as strongly as the visual images in a movie).
So I almost never write sex scenes either. When I do, it's strictly fade-to-black PG stuff. There's none in Travelers, and Air Pirates has only two scenes that come close. In one, a woman gets attacked - attempted rape is implied, but never said out loud and never shown. The other is essentially: "They kissed. They didn't come out for a long time."
No, I won't be writing erotica anytime soon.
Summary
I should add that I'll read anything (hello, Song of Ice and Fire). These are my preferences. Not surprisingly, I tend to write what I like to read. So what about you?
| Category | Prefer to Read | Write |
|---|---|---|
| Violence | PG-13 | PG-13 |
| Language | Don't care | PG-13 |
| Sex | PG | PG |
* But no knees; I can't stand knees. None of my characters ever get shot in the knee or break their knees. If someday one of them does, it will mean I have grown as a writer and a person.
** I'm using the American rating system. It's the only one I'm familiar with.
Three Truths
Chapters Edited: 12
Scenes Edited: 33
Words Murdered: 2,359 (5.6%)
Times Hagai's life has been threatened: 8
Hagai's brief moments of bravery: 4
People hunting Hagai: 10, plus a pirate crew and the entire Imperial Navy
Fighting monks: 3
Airships destroyed: 5
----------------------------------------------
Only a few of you know me in real life, so we're going to play a game. Below are four facts about me; one of them is a lie. See if you can guess which one.
I'll put the answer in the comments on Tuesday night, PST. The answers are in the comments, so make your guess before reading them.
And feel free to play along: put 3 truths and a lie on your own blog, or in the comments. I don't read all of your blogs (sorry), but if you put a link in the comments I'll be sure to pop over and learn some things about you.
Scenes Edited: 33
Words Murdered: 2,359 (5.6%)
Times Hagai's life has been threatened: 8
Hagai's brief moments of bravery: 4
People hunting Hagai: 10, plus a pirate crew and the entire Imperial Navy
Fighting monks: 3
Airships destroyed: 5
----------------------------------------------
Only a few of you know me in real life, so we're going to play a game. Below are four facts about me; one of them is a lie. See if you can guess which one.
- I am 31 with 7 kids, ages 2 to 17.
- Until I was 11, I wanted to be a jet fighter pilot. After that, I wanted to write novels for a living.
- I don't drink, don't smoke, don't like coffee, and I only swear when I'm talking to God.
- I sometimes play a recurring D&D character named Khad'am - an evil dwarven fighter with the constitution and charisma of a brick wall.
And feel free to play along: put 3 truths and a lie on your own blog, or in the comments. I don't read all of your blogs (sorry), but if you put a link in the comments I'll be sure to pop over and learn some things about you.
Yet Another Post About Query Letters
Chapters Edited: 11
Scenes Edited: 29
Words Murdered: 1915 (5.2% - I think I added some while rewriting)
Times Hagai has been in a life-threatening situation: 6
People who've yelled at Hagai for doing something stupid: 7 (oddly, never Sam)
People who've fought with Sam: 9
People who wished they hadn't: 6
-------------------------------------------------------
So, query letters again.
If there's one thing I learned from Nathan's Agent for a Day contest it's that the perfect query letter will not make agents request your manuscript. "What?!" you say. Yes, I say. At best, the perfect query letter can tell the agent about your story. It's your story that will make them want to read your manuscript.
That means your query letter must be a clean, logical summary of your story. It doesn't have to include everything, but it does have to read well, and it has to make sense. It can't get in the way of the story.
I've been thinking about this because I've been teaching our niece (whom we homeschool) how to write a high school-level book report. The method is essentially the same. Here's what I told her:
Focusing on the main storyline means we're talking about Frodo and the Ring and nothing else. In a summary, or a query, that means we don't mention Pippin or Merry, Legolas or Gimli, maybe not even Aragorn or Gollum! Sauron gets a mention because it's his ring. Sam might get mentioned as "Frodo's faithful companion," but that's it.
Being specific means mentioning the details that make your story unique. Frodo doesn't need to destroy the Ring; he needs to throw it into the bowels of Mt. Doom, located in the center of Sauron's wasteland domain. He isn't chased by evil forces; he is hunted by legions of orcs and tracked by Ring Wraiths - creatures so twisted by evil that they have no will of their own, only that of their master Sauron.
Be careful though. Specifics can get wordy. Choose the specifics that make your story unique but at the same time don't clutter the summary with confusing details. In particular, don't name characters that don't need to be named.
Flowing logically means that the query/summary makes sense to someone who has never read the book. This is the hardest part for us authors because we keep forgetting that things that make perfect sense to us wouldn't make any sense to fresh eyes.
Often, in order to answer the 3 questions I mentioned above, we have to include bits that aren't part of the main storyline. I have to say that Frodo inherits the ring - from who? why? He sets off to destroy it - why? who tells him to do that? why does he agree?
This is exactly why you must focus only on the main storyline. A query that doesn't make logical sense obscures the story behind it and gets rejected. If you include subplots and minor characters, you'll have to start explaining everything, and there just isn't room for that on a single page. Queries that try it become too long or make no sense - often both.
There's more, of course. You don't just want to explain your story, you want to sell it. But if your query is focused, specific, and logical, it will go a long way towards selling itself already.
Scenes Edited: 29
Words Murdered: 1915 (5.2% - I think I added some while rewriting)
Times Hagai has been in a life-threatening situation: 6
People who've yelled at Hagai for doing something stupid: 7 (oddly, never Sam)
People who've fought with Sam: 9
People who wished they hadn't: 6
-------------------------------------------------------
So, query letters again.
If there's one thing I learned from Nathan's Agent for a Day contest it's that the perfect query letter will not make agents request your manuscript. "What?!" you say. Yes, I say. At best, the perfect query letter can tell the agent about your story. It's your story that will make them want to read your manuscript.
That means your query letter must be a clean, logical summary of your story. It doesn't have to include everything, but it does have to read well, and it has to make sense. It can't get in the way of the story.
I've been thinking about this because I've been teaching our niece (whom we homeschool) how to write a high school-level book report. The method is essentially the same. Here's what I told her:
- Focus only on the main storyline: one protagonist, one antagonist, one conflict, one climax.
- Be specific.
- Everything in the summary must answer the questions: What happens (main storyline only)? Why does that happen? What happens as a result?
Focusing on the main storyline means we're talking about Frodo and the Ring and nothing else. In a summary, or a query, that means we don't mention Pippin or Merry, Legolas or Gimli, maybe not even Aragorn or Gollum! Sauron gets a mention because it's his ring. Sam might get mentioned as "Frodo's faithful companion," but that's it.
Being specific means mentioning the details that make your story unique. Frodo doesn't need to destroy the Ring; he needs to throw it into the bowels of Mt. Doom, located in the center of Sauron's wasteland domain. He isn't chased by evil forces; he is hunted by legions of orcs and tracked by Ring Wraiths - creatures so twisted by evil that they have no will of their own, only that of their master Sauron.
Be careful though. Specifics can get wordy. Choose the specifics that make your story unique but at the same time don't clutter the summary with confusing details. In particular, don't name characters that don't need to be named.
Flowing logically means that the query/summary makes sense to someone who has never read the book. This is the hardest part for us authors because we keep forgetting that things that make perfect sense to us wouldn't make any sense to fresh eyes.
Often, in order to answer the 3 questions I mentioned above, we have to include bits that aren't part of the main storyline. I have to say that Frodo inherits the ring - from who? why? He sets off to destroy it - why? who tells him to do that? why does he agree?
This is exactly why you must focus only on the main storyline. A query that doesn't make logical sense obscures the story behind it and gets rejected. If you include subplots and minor characters, you'll have to start explaining everything, and there just isn't room for that on a single page. Queries that try it become too long or make no sense - often both.
There's more, of course. You don't just want to explain your story, you want to sell it. But if your query is focused, specific, and logical, it will go a long way towards selling itself already.
French Cooking
(No stats this time. The major plot revision, combined with life getting in the way, has slowed me down a bit. I've only done the one scene since last time.)
I've been reading Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engle. It's an interesting look at how faith and art overlap. In fact, to hear L'Engle tell it, the two are far more intertwined than most people realize. I'd strongly recommend this book for artists who are Christian, but I think it has something to say to those who consider themselves a Christian or an artist but not both.
This post isn't about faith though. There was a passage about how L'Engle turned ideas into stories. Her method, it turns out, is a lot like mine, though she describes it much more eloquently.
I've been reading Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engle. It's an interesting look at how faith and art overlap. In fact, to hear L'Engle tell it, the two are far more intertwined than most people realize. I'd strongly recommend this book for artists who are Christian, but I think it has something to say to those who consider themselves a Christian or an artist but not both.
This post isn't about faith though. There was a passage about how L'Engle turned ideas into stories. Her method, it turns out, is a lot like mine, though she describes it much more eloquently.
When I start working on a book, which is usually several years and several books before I start to write it, I am somewhat like a French peasant cook. There are several pots on the back of the stove, and as I go by during the day's work, I drop a carrot in one, an onion in another, a chunk of meat in another. When it comes time to prepare the meal, I take the pot which is most nearly full and bring it to the front of the stove.
So it is with writing. There are several pots on those back burners. An idea for a scene goes into one, a character into another, a description of a tree in the fog into another. When it comes time to write, I bring forward the pot which has the most in it. The dropping in of ideas is sometimes quite conscious; sometimes it happens without my realizing it. I look and something has been added which is just what I need, but I don't remember when it was added.
When it is time to start work, I look at everything in the pot, sort, arrange, think about character and story line. Most of this part of the work is done consciously, but then there comes a moment of unself-consciousness, of letting go and serving the work.
Revisions, Major and Minor
Chapters Edited: 7
Scenes Edited: 20
Scenes Completely Rewritten: 3
Words Murdered: 1,959 (7.4%)
People hunting Hagai: 5
Times Hagai puts his foot in his mouth: 3
People Sam has fought with: 1
People Sam has stolen from: 4 (plus many that weren't dramatized)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
These are some things I keep finding while I'm editing. If you've ever edited your own stuff, these probably won't be much of a surprise.
See, after Sam steals the stone from Hagai, Hagai runs into a police officer, Lieutenant Tobin. Tobin wants Hagai to help him get incriminating evidence on Sam, while Hagai just wants Tobin to tell him where to find Sam so he can try and get the stone back. When Hagai finds Sam, and Sam doesn't give back the stone, Hagai thinks he can get Sam arrested and get the stone back that way, so he tries to get the evidence Tobin asked for (in this case, gold coins from a certain bank). Sam says he'll pay Hagai in gold if Hagai does a certain job for him. But while doing the job, Hagai is told that Sam is the only one who can lead him to his mother, so he changes his mind, but the police are already set to arrest Sam so Hagai has to betray them and help Sam escape, but...
Messy, right? I can hardly follow it, and I wrote it. So I scrapped it and replaced it with something simpler. Hagai goes to the cops, but now he's up-front about the stone and agrees to help them arrest Sam. Hagai still does a job for Sam, but his motivation is more clear: to trap and arrest Sam. Until, of course, he learns that Sam is the only one who can lead him to his mother, and Hagai must decide what's more important: the law or finding his mother.
Well, it'll be better in book form. Anyway, that change required a scrapped scene and some medium-sized changes in two other chapters. Natalie's post on malleability is timely, for me. I'm sure there are major changes needed that I can't see yet, but the first step is not being afraid of the ones I see.
Scenes Edited: 20
Scenes Completely Rewritten: 3
Words Murdered: 1,959 (7.4%)
People hunting Hagai: 5
Times Hagai puts his foot in his mouth: 3
People Sam has fought with: 1
People Sam has stolen from: 4 (plus many that weren't dramatized)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
These are some things I keep finding while I'm editing. If you've ever edited your own stuff, these probably won't be much of a surprise.
- Lots of unnecessary "Hagai saw" "Hagai watched" "Hagai heard". He's the point of view character. If I write it, of course he's the one that notices it.
- A lot of "started to" "began to" "almost" and "nearly". Declarative is better. "He ran," not "He started to run."
- A few (though not as many as I feared) unnecessary dialogue tags: he said, she said. If the tag doesn't add information that's not obvious from the dialogue itself, then it's gotta go.
- A lot of telling and unnecessary details, especially in the less-planned scenes. I'd write details and ideas as I thought of them. All of those details helped me understand what happened, but most were unnecessary to relay events to the reader. In fact, they get in the way. This happened especially in the beginning, where I had to rewrite two scenes in order to smooth them out (the opening of Chapter 1 is one example).
See, after Sam steals the stone from Hagai, Hagai runs into a police officer, Lieutenant Tobin. Tobin wants Hagai to help him get incriminating evidence on Sam, while Hagai just wants Tobin to tell him where to find Sam so he can try and get the stone back. When Hagai finds Sam, and Sam doesn't give back the stone, Hagai thinks he can get Sam arrested and get the stone back that way, so he tries to get the evidence Tobin asked for (in this case, gold coins from a certain bank). Sam says he'll pay Hagai in gold if Hagai does a certain job for him. But while doing the job, Hagai is told that Sam is the only one who can lead him to his mother, so he changes his mind, but the police are already set to arrest Sam so Hagai has to betray them and help Sam escape, but...
Messy, right? I can hardly follow it, and I wrote it. So I scrapped it and replaced it with something simpler. Hagai goes to the cops, but now he's up-front about the stone and agrees to help them arrest Sam. Hagai still does a job for Sam, but his motivation is more clear: to trap and arrest Sam. Until, of course, he learns that Sam is the only one who can lead him to his mother, and Hagai must decide what's more important: the law or finding his mother.
Well, it'll be better in book form. Anyway, that change required a scrapped scene and some medium-sized changes in two other chapters. Natalie's post on malleability is timely, for me. I'm sure there are major changes needed that I can't see yet, but the first step is not being afraid of the ones I see.
The Germination of a Story
Chapters edited: 5
Scenes edited: 16
Words murdered: 1,320 (6.5% - either I'm getting lazy or my writing got better after chapter 4)
Times Hagai nearly dies: 3
Times Hagai puts his foot in his mouth: 3
Times Sam gets in a fight: 1
---------------------------------------------
Ideas are cheap. They're everywhere, but they're not enough to make a story. They need to mix, ripen, maybe bake (dang, now I'm hungry). The path from idea to story can be a long one. I want to show you what the path has looked like for me so far with Joey Stone.
It started because I wanted to write a school story with fantasy/spy/ninja elements, a la Naruto. A friend asked me to write a short story for her, so I fleshed out the idea with some psionic rules I'd made for an e-RPG, created a skeleton world (near future), and put some characters in it. I squeezed out a mediocre short story called Joey Stone.
I liked the characters and the powers, but there was nothing to the world and no story big enough yet for a novel (besides which, I was still writing Travelers), so I let it sit for a while.
Last summer, I watched Witch Hunter Robin and really liked the idea of using psions to hunt other psions. I also liked the connotations of "witches" better than "psions." I got that feeling again when I read the back of Marie Brennan's Doppleganger and mistakenly thought it was urban fantasy instead of the regular kind. Something about modern day witch hunters appeals to me, obviously.
A few months ago, I had a dream about a group of people who required technology to use their powers. One of their enemies discovered how to cancel out their technology. They were left powerless, until a young man was born among them who could use his powers without artificial aid, and he taught them how to do it themselves. This dream, combined with actually reading Doppleganger, got me thinking about the society of these "witches" and what it would have to be like for them to survive and stay hidden.
At this point, all these ideas were mixing together in my mind. The world was starting to take shape. I started thinking how to set the story at least partially in Thailand. I wanted to give the story a unique flavor and write what I know, but at the same time not seem too gimmicky (e.g. "It's X-Men in Thailand!").
But I still didn't have a story.
The other day I saw Babylon A.D.* It was okay, but I loved some of the future/tech ideas. It got me thinking about an America that's very hard to get into (hm, just like real life), and the story idea got stronger:
A Thai village girl discovers she has special powers. She is hunted for them, trying to understand them herself. She is rescued by a woman named Charity who explains the girl is one of the Cunning - people with extraordinary powers - and that there are those who would like to see all the Cunning Folk burn. Together, they fight their way into America where the girl will be safe, she hopes.
It needs a lot of work, and I'm not 100% certain I like it yet, but it doesn't matter. The idea is there, germinating, ripening, waiting for the next idea to hit my brain pan and make it better than it was. I have two more Air Pirates stories to write first, so there's plenty of time. Probably by the time I get to drafting Joey Stone, it'll be entirely different. Again.
What about you? Where do you get ideas, and how do you make them into a story?
* You'll notice I often steal ideas from other stories. There's nothing wrong with this, so long as you're not lazy about it. Steal what you like and make it your own. Amateurs imitate. Professionals steal.
Scenes edited: 16
Words murdered: 1,320 (6.5% - either I'm getting lazy or my writing got better after chapter 4)
Times Hagai nearly dies: 3
Times Hagai puts his foot in his mouth: 3
Times Sam gets in a fight: 1
---------------------------------------------
Ideas are cheap. They're everywhere, but they're not enough to make a story. They need to mix, ripen, maybe bake (dang, now I'm hungry). The path from idea to story can be a long one. I want to show you what the path has looked like for me so far with Joey Stone.
It started because I wanted to write a school story with fantasy/spy/ninja elements, a la Naruto. A friend asked me to write a short story for her, so I fleshed out the idea with some psionic rules I'd made for an e-RPG, created a skeleton world (near future), and put some characters in it. I squeezed out a mediocre short story called Joey Stone.
I liked the characters and the powers, but there was nothing to the world and no story big enough yet for a novel (besides which, I was still writing Travelers), so I let it sit for a while.
Last summer, I watched Witch Hunter Robin and really liked the idea of using psions to hunt other psions. I also liked the connotations of "witches" better than "psions." I got that feeling again when I read the back of Marie Brennan's Doppleganger and mistakenly thought it was urban fantasy instead of the regular kind. Something about modern day witch hunters appeals to me, obviously.
A few months ago, I had a dream about a group of people who required technology to use their powers. One of their enemies discovered how to cancel out their technology. They were left powerless, until a young man was born among them who could use his powers without artificial aid, and he taught them how to do it themselves. This dream, combined with actually reading Doppleganger, got me thinking about the society of these "witches" and what it would have to be like for them to survive and stay hidden.
At this point, all these ideas were mixing together in my mind. The world was starting to take shape. I started thinking how to set the story at least partially in Thailand. I wanted to give the story a unique flavor and write what I know, but at the same time not seem too gimmicky (e.g. "It's X-Men in Thailand!").
But I still didn't have a story.
The other day I saw Babylon A.D.* It was okay, but I loved some of the future/tech ideas. It got me thinking about an America that's very hard to get into (hm, just like real life), and the story idea got stronger:
A Thai village girl discovers she has special powers. She is hunted for them, trying to understand them herself. She is rescued by a woman named Charity who explains the girl is one of the Cunning - people with extraordinary powers - and that there are those who would like to see all the Cunning Folk burn. Together, they fight their way into America where the girl will be safe, she hopes.
It needs a lot of work, and I'm not 100% certain I like it yet, but it doesn't matter. The idea is there, germinating, ripening, waiting for the next idea to hit my brain pan and make it better than it was. I have two more Air Pirates stories to write first, so there's plenty of time. Probably by the time I get to drafting Joey Stone, it'll be entirely different. Again.
What about you? Where do you get ideas, and how do you make them into a story?
* You'll notice I often steal ideas from other stories. There's nothing wrong with this, so long as you're not lazy about it. Steal what you like and make it your own. Amateurs imitate. Professionals steal.
Chapter Titles
EDITING STATS
Chapters Edited: 3
Scenes Edited: 9
Words Murdered: 1,017 (about 10%)
People hunting MC: 4 (that he knows of)
Times MC nearly dies: 2
Airships destroyed: 1
------------------------------------------------
I have no intention of telling anybody how to do chapter titles. The opposite, actually. What do you like in your chapter titles? If you're writing, how do you do them?
I've seen them done a thousand ways. Short title. Long title. Chapters titled with the name of the POV character. Titles by date or location. Straightforward titles. Obscure titles. No titles (numbers only). No titles (not even numbers). No chapters at all.
Personally, I like numbers and relatively straightforward titles. It makes it easier to flip back and find some piece of information on page 32 that is suddenly relevant on page 337. It also helps me remember the plot of the book better. But that's just my preference. I'm not going to hate a book because the chapters are titled by POV characters (George Martin) or because there are no chapters at all (Terry Pratchett).
When I write, I tend to title chapters by my preference too (numbered, straightforward). In fact, I was flipping through the books on my shelf, and I realized I have been completely influenced by Orson Scott Card in my chapter titles. In every book of his I have, the chapters are numbered with short, often one-word titles. Likewise, all my chapters:
You know, stuff like that. I actually don't know if Card ever does the double meaning thing, and I don't know if readers even notice things like that (I probably wouldn't), but I do it anyway. It's fun.
And if an agent or editor ever says to me, "These chapter titles are dumb. They all need to go," I'll say, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I thought so too, sir. Would you like some more coffee?"
Chapters Edited: 3
Scenes Edited: 9
Words Murdered: 1,017 (about 10%)
People hunting MC: 4 (that he knows of)
Times MC nearly dies: 2
Airships destroyed: 1
------------------------------------------------
I have no intention of telling anybody how to do chapter titles. The opposite, actually. What do you like in your chapter titles? If you're writing, how do you do them?
I've seen them done a thousand ways. Short title. Long title. Chapters titled with the name of the POV character. Titles by date or location. Straightforward titles. Obscure titles. No titles (numbers only). No titles (not even numbers). No chapters at all.
Personally, I like numbers and relatively straightforward titles. It makes it easier to flip back and find some piece of information on page 32 that is suddenly relevant on page 337. It also helps me remember the plot of the book better. But that's just my preference. I'm not going to hate a book because the chapters are titled by POV characters (George Martin) or because there are no chapters at all (Terry Pratchett).
When I write, I tend to title chapters by my preference too (numbered, straightforward). In fact, I was flipping through the books on my shelf, and I realized I have been completely influenced by Orson Scott Card in my chapter titles. In every book of his I have, the chapters are numbered with short, often one-word titles. Likewise, all my chapters:
- are numbered.
- have short, descriptive titles.
- sometimes, but not always, have titles with more than one meaning.
You know, stuff like that. I actually don't know if Card ever does the double meaning thing, and I don't know if readers even notice things like that (I probably wouldn't), but I do it anyway. It's fun.
And if an agent or editor ever says to me, "These chapter titles are dumb. They all need to go," I'll say, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I thought so too, sir. Would you like some more coffee?"
Air Pirates Status and Excerpt
I've fixed everything that needs fixing (for now) and am on to Stage 6, the full read-through. It might take a while, especially in the beginning. Whoever wrote these first chapters was a terrible writer. I've had to destroy one of every four words.
The beginning is better now - not great, but better. Good enough that I'm willing to show the current version to you. Feel free to offer critiques, if you like. I... I think I can take it.
Chapter 1 - Hagai
Hagai woke with a book attached to his face. Peeling it off, he found his glasses where they'd fallen nearby and put them on. Page 91 of Lushita's City was ruined. It was wrinkled by sweat, the words faded - probably imprinted on his face in reverse. Aunt Booker wouldn't be happy with him, but who was?
With a groan, he stood and shuffled to the dresser - the only furniture in the room other than his sleep pad. He took out the neatly folded shirt and pants from their respective stacks and put them on. While he buttoned his shirt - a routine he did deliberately slow - he stared out the window. The suns were up already - the amber was even near peak. It was going to be a hot day. With luck, he wouldn't have to be out in it.
Far below, the town of Providence bristled with work. Past that lay the sea - glittering blue for the most part, but out past the reef, the water was murky, almost black. The skylers called it dark water. The worst fate for a skyler was to have their ship fall out of the air over a patch of it. It was about the only thing nobody pretended to be brave about.
Aunt Booker's voice hollered from downstairs. "You done buttoning your shirt yet, Haggie?"
How did she always know?
The beginning is better now - not great, but better. Good enough that I'm willing to show the current version to you. Feel free to offer critiques, if you like. I... I think I can take it.
Chapter 1 - Hagai
Hagai woke with a book attached to his face. Peeling it off, he found his glasses where they'd fallen nearby and put them on. Page 91 of Lushita's City was ruined. It was wrinkled by sweat, the words faded - probably imprinted on his face in reverse. Aunt Booker wouldn't be happy with him, but who was?
With a groan, he stood and shuffled to the dresser - the only furniture in the room other than his sleep pad. He took out the neatly folded shirt and pants from their respective stacks and put them on. While he buttoned his shirt - a routine he did deliberately slow - he stared out the window. The suns were up already - the amber was even near peak. It was going to be a hot day. With luck, he wouldn't have to be out in it.
Far below, the town of Providence bristled with work. Past that lay the sea - glittering blue for the most part, but out past the reef, the water was murky, almost black. The skylers called it dark water. The worst fate for a skyler was to have their ship fall out of the air over a patch of it. It was about the only thing nobody pretended to be brave about.
Aunt Booker's voice hollered from downstairs. "You done buttoning your shirt yet, Haggie?"
How did she always know?
So You Want to be a Ninja...
Basics. Spelling, grammar, punctuation - these are your katas, the fundamentals. Any peasant can throw a punch or toss together a grammatically correct sentence. You must know why it is correct. You must be so familiar with the rules that even your Twitter updates are punctuated properly. Only then can you improvise, creating your own forms - doing so by intent, not laziness.
Words. Words are your weapons, and you must become familiar with as many as possible. More than familiar, you must become adept in their use. A simple farmer can pick up a sword and make a clumsy effort at wielding it. You must be its master. In addition, you must know which weapons are appropriate for a situation. A polearm is all but useless in assassination, as 'puissant' and 'scion' would find a poor home in the mouth of the common taxi driver.
With knowledge of weapons and katas, you would make a decent fighter, a writer of e-mails, a composer of persuasive essays. Any daimyo would be glad to have you among their common militia, but you would not be a ninja.
Style. Fighting is more than killing your opponent, and writing is more than words strung in the proper order. The samurai know this, and you can learn much from them. You must be aware of the clarity of your writing, the variation of sentence structure, the powerful techniques of imagery and metaphor. Writing is an art, not simply a means of communication.
With a knowledge of style, you could choose your own path. You could become a mercenary, writing for whomever would pay you. You could begin the path of the samurai, accepting their bushido and writing only the truth - news, non-fiction, and the like. If you seek a life of security and reputation, then perhaps the way of the samurai is for you.
Or you could begin the life of a ninja. To the samurai, bushido is life. To the ninja, it is a hindrance. The art of the ninja is one of lies and misdirection, surprise and subterfuge. To become a ninja, you must learn many techniques the samurai are not taught, master them, and make them your own.
You must learn the secrets of tension and plot, what drives a story forward and hooks the reader until the end. You must learn to create characters that are real, believable, and can gain or lose sympathy with the audience, as the situation dictates. You must understand the ways of dialogue to make your characters to speak without tearing down the lie you have constructed.
Once you have learned everything required to be a ninja, you will have only just begun. Millions have gone before you. Most do not survive. The shinobi masters whose names you've heard are the exception, not the rule.
It takes more determination than you've ever known to become a ninja, but you can do it. I believe in you.
And if I'm wrong, it won't matter. You'll be dead.
Words. Words are your weapons, and you must become familiar with as many as possible. More than familiar, you must become adept in their use. A simple farmer can pick up a sword and make a clumsy effort at wielding it. You must be its master. In addition, you must know which weapons are appropriate for a situation. A polearm is all but useless in assassination, as 'puissant' and 'scion' would find a poor home in the mouth of the common taxi driver.
With knowledge of weapons and katas, you would make a decent fighter, a writer of e-mails, a composer of persuasive essays. Any daimyo would be glad to have you among their common militia, but you would not be a ninja.
Style. Fighting is more than killing your opponent, and writing is more than words strung in the proper order. The samurai know this, and you can learn much from them. You must be aware of the clarity of your writing, the variation of sentence structure, the powerful techniques of imagery and metaphor. Writing is an art, not simply a means of communication.
With a knowledge of style, you could choose your own path. You could become a mercenary, writing for whomever would pay you. You could begin the path of the samurai, accepting their bushido and writing only the truth - news, non-fiction, and the like. If you seek a life of security and reputation, then perhaps the way of the samurai is for you.
Or you could begin the life of a ninja. To the samurai, bushido is life. To the ninja, it is a hindrance. The art of the ninja is one of lies and misdirection, surprise and subterfuge. To become a ninja, you must learn many techniques the samurai are not taught, master them, and make them your own.
You must learn the secrets of tension and plot, what drives a story forward and hooks the reader until the end. You must learn to create characters that are real, believable, and can gain or lose sympathy with the audience, as the situation dictates. You must understand the ways of dialogue to make your characters to speak without tearing down the lie you have constructed.
Once you have learned everything required to be a ninja, you will have only just begun. Millions have gone before you. Most do not survive. The shinobi masters whose names you've heard are the exception, not the rule.
It takes more determination than you've ever known to become a ninja, but you can do it. I believe in you.
And if I'm wrong, it won't matter. You'll be dead.
Subtasks and an Air Pirates Excerpt
I realized one of my problems with editing is that I can't keep track of my progress as easily as I can with writing the draft. The result is that I feel unproductive which, ironically, makes me unproductive.
I think I've solved that by cutting it into relatively bite-sized stages. I did that before, but these are a little more concrete (i.e. for each stage, I have about 10-20 specific items that need changing).
Stage 1: Strong Ending. (Includes all the changes to beginning and middle that will help improve the ending).
Stage 2: Continuity.
Stage 3: Global Changes (i.e. capitalizing officerial titles or being consistent with the definite article and ship names).
Stage 4: Other Revisions. (Mostly improvement notes I made while drafting).
Stage 5: Strong Beginning.
Stage 6: Full Read-Through. (The subtasks of this one are individual chapters).
I've finished stages 1, 2, and 3. I'm almost done with stage 4, but stage 5 will be hard and stage 6 will be super-rough. Hopefully if I can track my progress and check things off of a list, it will help me stay determined. (I do like lists).
The title of this post also promises an excerpt, so here you go. I had a hard time finding one, since the beginning has all the world explanations in it but is also the least-polished.
This is the beginning of chapter 3. The stone has shown Hagai a vision in which the Oleanna, a merchant airship, crashes into the docks. Unsure whether he's seeing the future, he runs to the docks to find everything exactly as it was in the vision prior to the crash, and he starts to get worried. (In the excerpt, a dak is like a goat).
Chapter 3
The Oleanna hung in the sky like a child's lost balloon, no bigger than Hagai's thumb at this distance. For a moment, Hagai thought the string of coincidences might end there. It didn't look like anything was wrong. If anything, the Oleanna was getting smaller as it floated away.
That was before he heard the explosion.
It was really quiet for an explosion. Just a small, muffled pop like distant fireworks. Hagai thought he imagined it at first. For a while, he hoped maybe it wasn't an explosion after all, until he saw smoke issuing from the top of the Oleanna above him. That was also when the daks started getting nervous.
"Did you hear that?" Hagai asked the dak counter.
"Nay."
"That explosion, up in the sky. You didn't hear it?"
"Nay," the man replied, but he looked up towards the smoking airship.
"I heard an explosion, and then that smoke started coming out of the Oleanna."
The man squinted. "Nay, they're breezy. That's just exhaust from her boiler."
"No, it was an explosion. I heard it. I think they're in trouble."
"She's fine, see? She's still going."
The daks were getting louder and starting to push against the fences. Only Hagai seemed to notice. "Okay, look," he said, "I know this is going to sound weird, but… I know that ship is going to crash into the docks. We need to get out of here. We need to warn everybody to get out of here."
"What?" he laughed. "What are you on about?"
"I got this stone, see, and it shows me the future." He put his hand on the sling.
"What'd you get that at the circ or something?"
"No, look..." Hagai looked up again. The airship looked bigger. "It's gonna... it's gonna crash right there." He pointed. "People are gonna get hurt. The… the daks there are gonna break out and run wild, and, and you break your leg, and - "
"Here, now. That some kind of threat?"
"No! No, I just… I mean that's just what I saw."
"I got work to do, dog. Take your circus toy home."
"But I..." Hagai started, but the man had already turned around. The daks were restless now, and the dak counter looked pretty upset about it. Hagai left him alone. He looked for someone else to tell. There were plenty of skylers and dock workers everywhere, but they all seemed real busy. He considered yelling out a warning to everyone, but decided against it. He tried a one-on-one approach.
To one man he said, "Excuse me, I - "
"Outta my way, boy."
To another: "I'm sorry to bother you, b- "
"Does this look light to you?"
"Excuse me, is that ship on fire?"
"Boiler exhaust. Please to move."
"Hey, that ship's falling."
"Nah, it's just coming in to port."
"But it just took off!" Hagai pleaded to the back of the last man.
Nobody would hear him, and the airship was getting closer.
I think I've solved that by cutting it into relatively bite-sized stages. I did that before, but these are a little more concrete (i.e. for each stage, I have about 10-20 specific items that need changing).
Stage 1: Strong Ending. (Includes all the changes to beginning and middle that will help improve the ending).
Stage 2: Continuity.
Stage 3: Global Changes (i.e. capitalizing officerial titles or being consistent with the definite article and ship names).
Stage 4: Other Revisions. (Mostly improvement notes I made while drafting).
Stage 5: Strong Beginning.
Stage 6: Full Read-Through. (The subtasks of this one are individual chapters).
I've finished stages 1, 2, and 3. I'm almost done with stage 4, but stage 5 will be hard and stage 6 will be super-rough. Hopefully if I can track my progress and check things off of a list, it will help me stay determined. (I do like lists).
The title of this post also promises an excerpt, so here you go. I had a hard time finding one, since the beginning has all the world explanations in it but is also the least-polished.
This is the beginning of chapter 3. The stone has shown Hagai a vision in which the Oleanna, a merchant airship, crashes into the docks. Unsure whether he's seeing the future, he runs to the docks to find everything exactly as it was in the vision prior to the crash, and he starts to get worried. (In the excerpt, a dak is like a goat).
Chapter 3
The Oleanna hung in the sky like a child's lost balloon, no bigger than Hagai's thumb at this distance. For a moment, Hagai thought the string of coincidences might end there. It didn't look like anything was wrong. If anything, the Oleanna was getting smaller as it floated away.
That was before he heard the explosion.
It was really quiet for an explosion. Just a small, muffled pop like distant fireworks. Hagai thought he imagined it at first. For a while, he hoped maybe it wasn't an explosion after all, until he saw smoke issuing from the top of the Oleanna above him. That was also when the daks started getting nervous.
"Did you hear that?" Hagai asked the dak counter.
"Nay."
"That explosion, up in the sky. You didn't hear it?"
"Nay," the man replied, but he looked up towards the smoking airship.
"I heard an explosion, and then that smoke started coming out of the Oleanna."
The man squinted. "Nay, they're breezy. That's just exhaust from her boiler."
"No, it was an explosion. I heard it. I think they're in trouble."
"She's fine, see? She's still going."
The daks were getting louder and starting to push against the fences. Only Hagai seemed to notice. "Okay, look," he said, "I know this is going to sound weird, but… I know that ship is going to crash into the docks. We need to get out of here. We need to warn everybody to get out of here."
"What?" he laughed. "What are you on about?"
"I got this stone, see, and it shows me the future." He put his hand on the sling.
"What'd you get that at the circ or something?"
"No, look..." Hagai looked up again. The airship looked bigger. "It's gonna... it's gonna crash right there." He pointed. "People are gonna get hurt. The… the daks there are gonna break out and run wild, and, and you break your leg, and - "
"Here, now. That some kind of threat?"
"No! No, I just… I mean that's just what I saw."
"I got work to do, dog. Take your circus toy home."
"But I..." Hagai started, but the man had already turned around. The daks were restless now, and the dak counter looked pretty upset about it. Hagai left him alone. He looked for someone else to tell. There were plenty of skylers and dock workers everywhere, but they all seemed real busy. He considered yelling out a warning to everyone, but decided against it. He tried a one-on-one approach.
To one man he said, "Excuse me, I - "
"Outta my way, boy."
To another: "I'm sorry to bother you, b- "
"Does this look light to you?"
"Excuse me, is that ship on fire?"
"Boiler exhaust. Please to move."
"Hey, that ship's falling."
"Nah, it's just coming in to port."
"But it just took off!" Hagai pleaded to the back of the last man.
Nobody would hear him, and the airship was getting closer.
19 Months of Air Pirates
It took me 19 months from word 1 to word 99,675 on Air Pirates. I told you I'd talk about the process, so here it is.
I write these kinds of posts to analyze my own process, to see what works and what doesn't and hopefully to improve. I hope other people can glean something useful from this as well, but if not, no worries.
This post is also an excuse for me to make charts. I like charts.
I started writing Air Pirates officially in September 2007. I'd been thinking about it for a lot longer than that (I have documents dating back to 2003), and I'm still not finished with it (the editing phase is a lot harder than I remember), but the first draft took about a year and a half to write.
You can see I had a slow start, and a plateau in early 2008 that I'll explain in a second. This next chart shows that more clearly. It's a chart of how many words I wrote in each month.
Clearly there's an upward trend, but it's pretty unstable. I'd write well for 2-3 months, then stop for 2-3 months, and so on. Here's how it went down.
Aug-Oct 07 (Slow): It took me 3 or 4 drafts to get the beginning, and rewrites weren't counted towards the final word count. Once I figured out how the story started, it got easier.
Feb-Apr 08 (Slow): At this point, I'd written four chapters of Air Pirates and needed to outline the rest of the story if I was going to get anywhere. Travelers also came back from the betas and for the first time I started seriously editing and working on queries.
May-Jul 08 (Fast): I really think the reason for my increase here was that I started thinking like a pro. In working on my query, and trying to figure out what to do next, I'd begun reading blogs like Nathan Bransford and Query Shark, as well as author's blogs. I learned a lot about writing good query letters, but also the publishing business as a whole. More than anything, I learned that this was something I really wanted to do.
Aug-Sep 08 (Slow): I tried writing a short story in the Air Pirates' world. I'd never written a short story for the purpose of publication before, so it took a lot of time (and it still isn't published). Our trip to the US slowed things down a bit too.
Oct-Apr 09 (Fast, mostly): The increase in word count here is most likely due to my wife's commitment to me. She started helping me get away for 2 hours a day, most days, just to write. I still wrote in whatever stolen moments I could, but having 2 undistracted hours really helped me discipline myself. I want to blame the dip here on holiday visitors, but I think it was due more to my lack of self-discipline than anything. I'm trying to get better at that.
Final Analysis. On average, I wrote 5,000 words a month on Air Pirates. I know that, with discipline, I can do 10,000 a month pretty regularly. Hopefully that means I can draft a novel in 9-10 months, but we'll see. I won't be doing any drafting for a while yet until I can get through all this editing I'm supposed to be doing.
I write these kinds of posts to analyze my own process, to see what works and what doesn't and hopefully to improve. I hope other people can glean something useful from this as well, but if not, no worries.
This post is also an excuse for me to make charts. I like charts.
I started writing Air Pirates officially in September 2007. I'd been thinking about it for a lot longer than that (I have documents dating back to 2003), and I'm still not finished with it (the editing phase is a lot harder than I remember), but the first draft took about a year and a half to write.
You can see I had a slow start, and a plateau in early 2008 that I'll explain in a second. This next chart shows that more clearly. It's a chart of how many words I wrote in each month.
Clearly there's an upward trend, but it's pretty unstable. I'd write well for 2-3 months, then stop for 2-3 months, and so on. Here's how it went down.
Aug-Oct 07 (Slow): It took me 3 or 4 drafts to get the beginning, and rewrites weren't counted towards the final word count. Once I figured out how the story started, it got easier.
Feb-Apr 08 (Slow): At this point, I'd written four chapters of Air Pirates and needed to outline the rest of the story if I was going to get anywhere. Travelers also came back from the betas and for the first time I started seriously editing and working on queries.
May-Jul 08 (Fast): I really think the reason for my increase here was that I started thinking like a pro. In working on my query, and trying to figure out what to do next, I'd begun reading blogs like Nathan Bransford and Query Shark, as well as author's blogs. I learned a lot about writing good query letters, but also the publishing business as a whole. More than anything, I learned that this was something I really wanted to do.
Aug-Sep 08 (Slow): I tried writing a short story in the Air Pirates' world. I'd never written a short story for the purpose of publication before, so it took a lot of time (and it still isn't published). Our trip to the US slowed things down a bit too.
Oct-Apr 09 (Fast, mostly): The increase in word count here is most likely due to my wife's commitment to me. She started helping me get away for 2 hours a day, most days, just to write. I still wrote in whatever stolen moments I could, but having 2 undistracted hours really helped me discipline myself. I want to blame the dip here on holiday visitors, but I think it was due more to my lack of self-discipline than anything. I'm trying to get better at that.
Final Analysis. On average, I wrote 5,000 words a month on Air Pirates. I know that, with discipline, I can do 10,000 a month pretty regularly. Hopefully that means I can draft a novel in 9-10 months, but we'll see. I won't be doing any drafting for a while yet until I can get through all this editing I'm supposed to be doing.
Prologues
I don't know why I'm thinking about prologues. Nothing I'm reading or writing has one. But I'm thinking about them, now you get to, too.
What is a Prologue?
It won't do much good to talk about prologues if we don't agree on what they are. In fiction, there are three things that make something a prologue: (1) it comes before the first chapter, (2) it is a part of the story (as opposed to an introduction, preface, or forward, which are about the story, but not part of it), and (3) it says "Prologue" at the top.
Simple, right? That's what makes something a prologue instead of, say, "Chapter One," but it doesn't explain what makes a good prologue. That's what this post is about.
When Not to Prologue
A lot of people don't like prologues. Some people skip them entirely (which, to me, is way wacky). That's because a lot of writers use prologues as a band-aid for a bad beginning. Which is to say:
Like every prologue, this creates two beginnings, but instead of Exciting followed by Flat, the expository prologue starts Flat, with the Exciting beginning buried beneath it. Sci-fi and fantasy are notorious for this. A good genre writer, though, is able to mix telling details into the story so they don't have to put it all up front in one big exposition. So:
Everybody has had a bad experience with prologues, but I don't think they're all bad. If used wisely, they can be quite effective. For example, sometimes a story is told entirely from one point of view, but you need to clue the reader into some event the protagonist never witnessed (and it needs the impact of being dramatized). In this case:
Orson Scott Card's Homecoming saga is about a low-tech society of people whose religious values are challenged by a boy that hears from God. This would be fine except it later turns out that the boy's God is an artificial intelligence orbiting the planet and watching over their society. That's the kind of thing that would make a reader throw the book across the room unless there's a prologue (in this case, from the AI's point of view) to show or hint at the truth of the situation. So:
The main point of all this is that a prologue isn't an easy way out of anything, least of all out of grabbing the reader's attention - that still needs to be done in Chapter One, whether there's a prologue or not. So how do you know if you need one, or if you're just being lazy? From Nathan Bransford:
I have some additional examples in the comments. Feel free to add your own, good or bad (or even to contradict what I just said!).
What is a Prologue?
It won't do much good to talk about prologues if we don't agree on what they are. In fiction, there are three things that make something a prologue: (1) it comes before the first chapter, (2) it is a part of the story (as opposed to an introduction, preface, or forward, which are about the story, but not part of it), and (3) it says "Prologue" at the top.
Simple, right? That's what makes something a prologue instead of, say, "Chapter One," but it doesn't explain what makes a good prologue. That's what this post is about.
When Not to Prologue
A lot of people don't like prologues. Some people skip them entirely (which, to me, is way wacky). That's because a lot of writers use prologues as a band-aid for a bad beginning. Which is to say:
- Don't use a prologue because you need a better beginning. Fix your beginning.
- Don't use a prologue just to suck the reader in. You'll only have to suck them in a second time when the prologue's over.
Like every prologue, this creates two beginnings, but instead of Exciting followed by Flat, the expository prologue starts Flat, with the Exciting beginning buried beneath it. Sci-fi and fantasy are notorious for this. A good genre writer, though, is able to mix telling details into the story so they don't have to put it all up front in one big exposition. So:
- Don't use a prologue to explain the world or backstory or any other kind of telling exposition.
Everybody has had a bad experience with prologues, but I don't think they're all bad. If used wisely, they can be quite effective. For example, sometimes a story is told entirely from one point of view, but you need to clue the reader into some event the protagonist never witnessed (and it needs the impact of being dramatized). In this case:
- Use a prologue to show a point of view that doesn't appear anywhere else, or doesn't appear until the end.
- Use a prologue to create tension that the protagonist is not immediately aware of.
Orson Scott Card's Homecoming saga is about a low-tech society of people whose religious values are challenged by a boy that hears from God. This would be fine except it later turns out that the boy's God is an artificial intelligence orbiting the planet and watching over their society. That's the kind of thing that would make a reader throw the book across the room unless there's a prologue (in this case, from the AI's point of view) to show or hint at the truth of the situation. So:
- Use a prologue to manage the reader's expectations about your story.
The main point of all this is that a prologue isn't an easy way out of anything, least of all out of grabbing the reader's attention - that still needs to be done in Chapter One, whether there's a prologue or not. So how do you know if you need one, or if you're just being lazy? From Nathan Bransford:
- Take out the prologue. If the book makes sense without it, you don't need it.
I have some additional examples in the comments. Feel free to add your own, good or bad (or even to contradict what I just said!).
Playing Agent for a Day
Nathan Bransford is running an interesting game on his blog called Agent for a Day. On Monday, he threw 50 queries up on his blog, at random times, to simulate what happens with his slush pile (3 of them are queries that led to actual, published books). Those who want to play need to read the queries and request or reject as if they were an agent, but we're allowed to request no more than 5.
After 4 hours (interrupted by toddlers and a meal or two), I finished all 50. I probably could've done it faster if I just said a quick "yes" or "no" (or better, if I just didn't respond if I wasn't interested), but I also wanted to help those whose queries got chosen. So I left a short suggestion on most of them.
Anyway, here's what I learned about query letters:
The game has me worried, though, because I could imagine what my query would look like amidst the slush. I don't know if I can write a query that would stand out, but these tips will help, I know.
The queries are still on the blog, and the game runs through to Saturday. So if you want to play you can (and you don't have to do it all at once, like I did).
After 4 hours (interrupted by toddlers and a meal or two), I finished all 50. I probably could've done it faster if I just said a quick "yes" or "no" (or better, if I just didn't respond if I wasn't interested), but I also wanted to help those whose queries got chosen. So I left a short suggestion on most of them.
Anyway, here's what I learned about query letters:
- Most bad queries were vague with the details. Instead of saying, "Frodo must keep the ring from falling into the clutches of Sauron, the dark wizard," they'd say, "Frodo is up against the forces of evil." Instead of "Meg Ryan finds herself attracted to the arrogant bookstore owner who's running her out of business," they write "Meg Ryan finds love in the unlikeliest of places." This is bad for two reasons: (1) vague is boring, specific is interesting and (2) without specifics, your story sounds like every other story ever written.
- Many bad queries were vague with the ending. The premise sounded interesting, but I passed because I wasn't sure if the story delivered on the promise (and there were lots of other queries that did).
- The little mistakes that sites like Query Shark and Evil Editor rail against (e.g. mentioning you were a finalist in a writing contest, or putting word count/bio info first) were never a reason for my rejection. If the premise was good and the query well-written, I didn't care about anything else.
- Some little mistakes were the reason for my rejection however. For example, if a query, or even a paragraph, was too long, it could make a decent query hard to understand and the story hard to find.
- Almost everybody had good ideas. Not everybody knew how to write about them.
- Not a single query was perfect. Even the 5 I chose had points against them.
The game has me worried, though, because I could imagine what my query would look like amidst the slush. I don't know if I can write a query that would stand out, but these tips will help, I know.
The queries are still on the blog, and the game runs through to Saturday. So if you want to play you can (and you don't have to do it all at once, like I did).
Two Important Announcements
First announcement: As of this moment, I am officially a published author. Thaumatrope has published all 22 words of a science-fiction Easter story I wrote for them. You can read it here.
I have a second story due to be published on August 17, this year. You don't have to remember that date. I'll link to it here when it happens. Also, Thaumatrope is open for submissions again, including serials. If that sounds interesting, there's more information here.
Second announcement: The first draft of Air Pirates is finished, after 19 months. That's a long time, but... well, I'll give you a breakdown of that whole process one of these days. With graphs and everything. It'll be great.
You'd think the hard part is over, but it's just beginning. Brainstorming, outlining, plotting, writing... these are the fun bits, when the story's fresh and exciting in my mind, and nobody else is telling me the truth (i.e. that it's not fresh or exciting). So let's take a look at the next couple of months:
I have to admit, I'm kind of rabbit-in-the-headlights right now. I'm scared to take a break, and I'm scared not to. I'm afraid to touch it, but I know I can't leave it. I just need to sit down in front of it and make something happen, I guess.
* This is the part where I'm not thinking like a pro yet. I get critiques and think, "Crap, you mean it isn't finished yet?" Hopefully I'll be able to get over this attitude with some practice.
I have a second story due to be published on August 17, this year. You don't have to remember that date. I'll link to it here when it happens. Also, Thaumatrope is open for submissions again, including serials. If that sounds interesting, there's more information here.
Second announcement: The first draft of Air Pirates is finished, after 19 months. That's a long time, but... well, I'll give you a breakdown of that whole process one of these days. With graphs and everything. It'll be great.
You'd think the hard part is over, but it's just beginning. Brainstorming, outlining, plotting, writing... these are the fun bits, when the story's fresh and exciting in my mind, and nobody else is telling me the truth (i.e. that it's not fresh or exciting). So let's take a look at the next couple of months:
- Ending: Fix the resolution to meet the standards of my Beloved Alpha Reader and myself. This is currently the best ending I've written so far, but it is still merely mediocre - not as satisfying as it could be. Cindy's helping me make it better. ETC: 1-2 writing days.
- Continuity: Go through the revision notes I made while writing and repair the novel's continuity (I broke it a little during the later chapters because the way I'd planned things wasn't working). ETC: 1 writing day.
- Polish: Read through the whole novel, fixing everything I see. ETC: 1-4 weeks? I'm not really sure.
- Beginning: Go back one last time and give the opening special attention. ETC: 2-3 writing days.
- Beta Phase: Send the novel out to beta readers and await their response. ETC: 2-6 weeks.
- Freak Out: Getting feedback is the best and worst part of this process. I love hearing what people liked (especially when it's some scene taken the way I meant it). I hate hearing about things I need to fix.* ETC: Ongoing.
I have to admit, I'm kind of rabbit-in-the-headlights right now. I'm scared to take a break, and I'm scared not to. I'm afraid to touch it, but I know I can't leave it. I just need to sit down in front of it and make something happen, I guess.
* This is the part where I'm not thinking like a pro yet. I get critiques and think, "Crap, you mean it isn't finished yet?" Hopefully I'll be able to get over this attitude with some practice.
Cliffhangers
There's one problem with endings the way I described them. Like Dr. Manhattan said, "Nothing ever ends." Stuff happens before a story starts and stuff happens after it ends. The end is not an end, just a stopping point. So in a sense, something always has to be left hanging.
For standalone stories, that's often stuff we don't care about. The killer is caught, and we're content to know everybody goes back to their normal lives. The guy and girl get together and live happily ever after (or maybe not, but we're content to know they start the rest of their lives together).
But what if it's part of a series? How do you provide an ending that satisfies the reader, while leaving gaps open for a sequel? I think it's related to the promises I talked about last time. One of those promises is that all the reader's questions will be answered, or at least touched on.
As an example, let's look at another classic: The Empire Strikes Back. Going into the climax, what are the viewer's questions?
The fact that we don't know who the "other hope" is doesn't bother us because it's not a Big Question. It's mysterious and intriguing, but it's not vital to this story. These are the kinds of questions that can (usually) be left unanswered without causing an uproar.
But what about Han? The question "Will everyone survive?" is a always a Big Question for action/adventure stories. So why is this okay? I can think of three reasons.
First, we know there will be a sequel. If Empire were pitched as a standalone, people would have been more angry about Han. Lesson: Don't leave big cliffhangers unless you're sure you'll be able to write the sequel.
Second, Empire gives us lots of clues as to the direction the story is headed after the ending. We've been assured that Han is alive and safe in the carbonite. Lando has earned our trust, and he and Chewie are going after Han. Luke says when he's well, he will do the same. Lesson: Give the reader clues so they can piece together their own ending.
Third, the story of Empire was not about Han. Empire was about Luke learning to be a Jedi, and what it meant for him to face Darth Vader. That story was resolved satisfactorily. But if Han had been frozen in carbonite near the beginning of the story, and most of the movie was about trying to save him, then we'd be pissed if at the end he wasn't either rescued or dead. Lesson: Determine what story you're telling, and resolve that story completely.
Finally, I want to say that ambiguity is dangerous. There probably were some people who were angry at the way Empire ended. With ambiguous endings, somebody will always be upset that not all the threads were tied up. Everyone has their own threads they care about more than anyone else, and if you happened to leave their thread hanging, they'll be upset.
So I guess the lesson is: Be ambiguous at your own risk.
For standalone stories, that's often stuff we don't care about. The killer is caught, and we're content to know everybody goes back to their normal lives. The guy and girl get together and live happily ever after (or maybe not, but we're content to know they start the rest of their lives together).
But what if it's part of a series? How do you provide an ending that satisfies the reader, while leaving gaps open for a sequel? I think it's related to the promises I talked about last time. One of those promises is that all the reader's questions will be answered, or at least touched on.
As an example, let's look at another classic: The Empire Strikes Back. Going into the climax, what are the viewer's questions?
- Will Luke escape the trap?
- Will Luke rescue Han, Leia, and the rest?
- Will everyone survive?
- Who is the "other hope" Yoda mentioned when Luke left Degobah?
The fact that we don't know who the "other hope" is doesn't bother us because it's not a Big Question. It's mysterious and intriguing, but it's not vital to this story. These are the kinds of questions that can (usually) be left unanswered without causing an uproar.
But what about Han? The question "Will everyone survive?" is a always a Big Question for action/adventure stories. So why is this okay? I can think of three reasons.
First, we know there will be a sequel. If Empire were pitched as a standalone, people would have been more angry about Han. Lesson: Don't leave big cliffhangers unless you're sure you'll be able to write the sequel.
Second, Empire gives us lots of clues as to the direction the story is headed after the ending. We've been assured that Han is alive and safe in the carbonite. Lando has earned our trust, and he and Chewie are going after Han. Luke says when he's well, he will do the same. Lesson: Give the reader clues so they can piece together their own ending.
Third, the story of Empire was not about Han. Empire was about Luke learning to be a Jedi, and what it meant for him to face Darth Vader. That story was resolved satisfactorily. But if Han had been frozen in carbonite near the beginning of the story, and most of the movie was about trying to save him, then we'd be pissed if at the end he wasn't either rescued or dead. Lesson: Determine what story you're telling, and resolve that story completely.
Finally, I want to say that ambiguity is dangerous. There probably were some people who were angry at the way Empire ended. With ambiguous endings, somebody will always be upset that not all the threads were tied up. Everyone has their own threads they care about more than anyone else, and if you happened to leave their thread hanging, they'll be upset.
So I guess the lesson is: Be ambiguous at your own risk.
Endings, Again
I'm only a couple of days out from finishing Air Pirates. It's exciting (obviously). On the other hand, this last chapter has been taking longer than the others because it's the end. It has to be good. To do that, as Natalie said in her post on endings, I have to take it slow.
So obviously I've been spending a lot of time thinking about what makes an ending good. I've mentioned before that I have a problem with endings. I think I'm starting to figure out why.
As a writer, one thing you have to realize is that while you're telling your story, you are making certain promises to your reader. Some of those promises are inherent in the genre you're writing: if you're writing a murder mystery, you promise the reader will learn who did it and why; if it's a romance, you promise the right people will get together in the end.*
But genre aside, every story makes promises, and it's your job to give the reader what they want. That doesn't mean you have to be predictable, but throw in the wrong kind of twist and your reader will throw your book across the room in frustration.
Let's look at an example. Halfway through Back to the Future, everything's set up for a big climax. The two major conflicts (will Marty get back to the future? can he get his parents together so he still exists when he gets there?) are set up so that Marty's only chance at both is at the same time: the night of the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance. How does this have to end? You might think there are a thousand ways it could end - after all, anything's possible - but the truth is that the viewer is expecting a very limited subset of what is possible.
In BttF, the viewer expects Marty to get home and his parents to get together. Why? Because it's a light-hearted, funny movie. From the very beginning, the movie sends subtle clues that this will be a fun story, which implies a happy ending. There are a number of twists that can happen, but if Marty dies in the end, or gets stuck in the past forever, the viewer will be upset.
BttF also sent signals about what kind of climax it would be. Because there are action scenes (the Libyans attacking Doc Brown, Biff and his goons chasing Marty), the reader expects not just similar, but bigger, action for the climax. Because the movie is funny, we expect a little comic relief from the climax (or at least aren't blind-sided when it happens).
There's more. Marty's dad didn't have to become confident, did he? Could Marty have gone home and found everything exactly as he left it - loser parents and all? He probably could have, but we're all glad he didn't, because the viewer expects the characters they care about will not only win, but win big (or, if it's a tragedy, lose big). It's not enough for George McFly to get the right girl, he has to become more than he was before Marty interfered. Marty doesn't just come back home, he comes back to something better (a new truck, Doc Brown lives and is a closer friend to him than ever).
I'm not saying all endings have to be happy and predictable, but they have to be satisfying. They have to be bigger and better than anything that's happened in the book so far. If you twist it, the twist should be better than the straight-forward ending would have been - don't twist just to be unpredictable (woah, that advice came out of nowhere, and I realize I need to follow it!).
This post is long already, and there was something else I wanted to say about cliffhangers. I'll put it off for another post. In the meantime, ask yourself, what has to happen in the end? Twists and details aside, where do the characters have to end up for me to be satisfied? That's where the ending needs to go.
* These rules aren't strictly true 100% of the time, of course. They can be broken, but if you don't know what you're doing, nobody will put up with you breaking them.
So obviously I've been spending a lot of time thinking about what makes an ending good. I've mentioned before that I have a problem with endings. I think I'm starting to figure out why.
As a writer, one thing you have to realize is that while you're telling your story, you are making certain promises to your reader. Some of those promises are inherent in the genre you're writing: if you're writing a murder mystery, you promise the reader will learn who did it and why; if it's a romance, you promise the right people will get together in the end.*
But genre aside, every story makes promises, and it's your job to give the reader what they want. That doesn't mean you have to be predictable, but throw in the wrong kind of twist and your reader will throw your book across the room in frustration.
Let's look at an example. Halfway through Back to the Future, everything's set up for a big climax. The two major conflicts (will Marty get back to the future? can he get his parents together so he still exists when he gets there?) are set up so that Marty's only chance at both is at the same time: the night of the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance. How does this have to end? You might think there are a thousand ways it could end - after all, anything's possible - but the truth is that the viewer is expecting a very limited subset of what is possible.
In BttF, the viewer expects Marty to get home and his parents to get together. Why? Because it's a light-hearted, funny movie. From the very beginning, the movie sends subtle clues that this will be a fun story, which implies a happy ending. There are a number of twists that can happen, but if Marty dies in the end, or gets stuck in the past forever, the viewer will be upset.
BttF also sent signals about what kind of climax it would be. Because there are action scenes (the Libyans attacking Doc Brown, Biff and his goons chasing Marty), the reader expects not just similar, but bigger, action for the climax. Because the movie is funny, we expect a little comic relief from the climax (or at least aren't blind-sided when it happens).
There's more. Marty's dad didn't have to become confident, did he? Could Marty have gone home and found everything exactly as he left it - loser parents and all? He probably could have, but we're all glad he didn't, because the viewer expects the characters they care about will not only win, but win big (or, if it's a tragedy, lose big). It's not enough for George McFly to get the right girl, he has to become more than he was before Marty interfered. Marty doesn't just come back home, he comes back to something better (a new truck, Doc Brown lives and is a closer friend to him than ever).
I'm not saying all endings have to be happy and predictable, but they have to be satisfying. They have to be bigger and better than anything that's happened in the book so far. If you twist it, the twist should be better than the straight-forward ending would have been - don't twist just to be unpredictable (woah, that advice came out of nowhere, and I realize I need to follow it!).
This post is long already, and there was something else I wanted to say about cliffhangers. I'll put it off for another post. In the meantime, ask yourself, what has to happen in the end? Twists and details aside, where do the characters have to end up for me to be satisfied? That's where the ending needs to go.
* These rules aren't strictly true 100% of the time, of course. They can be broken, but if you don't know what you're doing, nobody will put up with you breaking them.
Language Problems
(For WAG #6: Overheard, in which the goal is to eavesdrop and notice how people really talk. I had some problems, as you'll see, and so shattered the rules into tiny, glittering pieces on the floor. Wear shoes.)
I can't understand you. I've lived here 4 years, even went to school to learn your language, but I can't understand you. You're not speaking your language.
I realize they didn't teach me about languages in the US. Oh, they teach the big ones - Spanish, French, maybe Chinese - but nobody is expected to actually use them. When someone, or some country, doesn't speak English, the typical American sentiment is, "Why don't they just learn English?"
I didn't want to be like that, so when I came here I determined to learn Thai the best I could. For you. I've done that, am still doing that, but though Thai is the national language, it's hardly the language everyone speaks.
Even in my own house, Thai is everyone's second language. My wife and I speak English. My oldest daughter grew up speaking Karen. My youngest daughter speaks Lisu with her mom, Kham Mueang with her school friends, and English with me; she only uses Thai with her teachers.
By your rhythms and sounds, I know you're speaking Kham Mueang. I recognize it, even know a word or two, but I don't understand you. In northern Thailand, everyone speaks Kham Mueang. Everyone but me. In the market, if my face didn't already mark me as an outsider, my use of the so-called "national language" would.
It's not really fair, you know? Why can't you all just learn English?
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Other participants in WAG #6:
I can't understand you. I've lived here 4 years, even went to school to learn your language, but I can't understand you. You're not speaking your language.
I realize they didn't teach me about languages in the US. Oh, they teach the big ones - Spanish, French, maybe Chinese - but nobody is expected to actually use them. When someone, or some country, doesn't speak English, the typical American sentiment is, "Why don't they just learn English?"
I didn't want to be like that, so when I came here I determined to learn Thai the best I could. For you. I've done that, am still doing that, but though Thai is the national language, it's hardly the language everyone speaks.
Even in my own house, Thai is everyone's second language. My wife and I speak English. My oldest daughter grew up speaking Karen. My youngest daughter speaks Lisu with her mom, Kham Mueang with her school friends, and English with me; she only uses Thai with her teachers.
By your rhythms and sounds, I know you're speaking Kham Mueang. I recognize it, even know a word or two, but I don't understand you. In northern Thailand, everyone speaks Kham Mueang. Everyone but me. In the market, if my face didn't already mark me as an outsider, my use of the so-called "national language" would.
It's not really fair, you know? Why can't you all just learn English?
----------------
Other participants in WAG #6:
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