The Writing Journey

Swordsman WIP

Roses are red, violets are blue–Is that an axe that’s stuck in you?

Adrian

Poetry and fantasy novels. Jim Butcher and Dr. Seuss. Have they got anything in common–other than Tolkien’s rambling poems and songs (which, I admit, I still skip, despite reading ‘Lord of the Rings’ a dozen times)? I claim yes.

Full disclosure: This post is different than others I’ve written so far, in that I’m still figuring out my opinion on it. Not so much on the value of the technique, which I’m convinced has some value, but rather the trade off between the ‘value add’ and the ‘time spent’, which isn’t inconsiderable, and an important consideration for a commercial writer. But I’ve found this topic only marginally explored in my pile of Writing Craft books, so maybe my ramblings are of interest. And if I’m overlooking an authoritative source for this topic, please mention in the comments!

To bring it back to writing, this post is about ‘voice’. And the benefit that basic poetry skills can bring to it. If you haven’t yet recoiled in horror at the topic, from a horrible memory of an ancient English teacher with massive jowls and knuckles like a fifty-year-old boxer, let me backtrack. 🙂

First, about me. Growing up, I had two creative outlets: a love of art and a love of fantasy and science fiction novels. I read Anne McCaffrey, Orson Scott Card, and David Eddings, along with many lesser known names. And I spent hours in my parent’s basement, drawing and coloring the type of images you see on the site. Some kind of dark. I’m sure my parents were thrilled. 🙂

When I was older, and looking to get back into the arts, it occurred to me that I could combine my interest in writing and art in the field of picture books. So I joined SCBWI and started writing and illustrating (NOT the same dark style, don’t worry). It was fun, and I learned a lot. And even got an occasional sniff of agent and editor interest. But the picture book market was tough (still is) and my writing skills were still budding. Eventually, I got restless and shifted to longer fantasy novels, my first reading love and the genesis of this site.

Hang with me; I’ve got a point, I promise. 🙂

In my picture book journey, I went through a period where I wanted to develop my skill at rhyming stories. So I joined an online poetry group, which included some published poets, and put some effort into it. At one SCBWI event, an agent read an anonymous sample of mine (in a ‘first pages’ session) and announced that “the author obviously had a lot of talent”.  I also had a humorous poem published on a reputable poetry site. Not to toot my own horn here, I just want to establish that I have a grounding in rhyme and meter.

Fast forward to a year or so ago, when I finished my first draft of Black Diamonds, a story written much quicker than my two previous books. I’d embraced the idea of an outline and some world and character building before I typed the first sentence, encouraged by the quality of writing that one of my critique partners produced in her first draft, using the same type of approach. Another critique partner noted that she thought some of the line-level writing could be improved, based on the first draft.

At the same time, I happened to read David Coe’s mention on Magical Words about how he reads his words aloud–I think David has exceptional sentence and scene-level technique–as well as a few tangential mentions from other authors. So I decided to give it a try. And when I did?

I realized that it was exactly what I had been doing for my rhyming stories. Spoken out loud, I could hear the meter, the BEATS of emphasis that gave the words rhythm and music. And I could smooth it out, make it sound more pleasing, more musical.

The drawback? It took FOREVER. Doing poetry level polishing on language takes a long time. I estimated that it took me roughly an hour a page, and there were days it was much slower. The first draft took me maybe four months. The sentence level edit took me about eight more.

Ouch. I mean, not all was to do with voice. But still.

The problem was, and still is, that the exercise undoubtedly improves my writing. Aside from improving the ‘musicality’ of the words, reading a story that slowly makes you realize when the meanings aren’t quite right. When a description or reference doesn’t tie into later chapters. It does a lot of things to make the story better.

But it doesn’t touch story. Plot. Character development. Or premise. The bones of the story. Polishing for sound is the most superficial of skills. I would recommend, if you do it all, to do it last, even after you send it to a developmental editor. It’s a final draft skill. And it still begs the question: is it worth the time invested?

I don’t know.

And that is the crux of it. I polished Black Diamonds (my current work in progress) this way, for 75% of the story. Then a good critique and major edit came around, and I changed a lot of those words. Did that time invested make any lasting change? Was the time spent worth it? I don’t know. And honestly, how would you even know? You can’t send out two different versions of a story to the same audience. How do you disentangle a reader’s liking of word-level polish from their view on the bones of a story? Ahh.

I should clarify a bit on why the time spent was so disproportionate. Another issue with this type of edit? You’re reading it out loud. While I let the utter obviousness of that statement wash over you, 🙂 let me clarify. I can’t do it riding on the train (or at least don’t want to). I can’t do it in a coffee shop. I can’t do it in my backyard as people walk their dogs on the other side of the fence. This last winter, I would drive to a coffee shop, buy a coffee, and sit in the passenger seat of my car, window fogged up, so that no-one would look at me strangely as I muttered to myself. A couple of times, I forgot to turn off the headlights and drained the battery. CAA loved me. 🙂

But don’t take that slow timeline as set in stone. For one, I just discovered a partial solution to the obstacles above. Only last week, and it may be because of my own lack of tech savvy, I read an author’s post about how she used the Apple text to speech option* to hear her own words. That comment hit me like a smack of bricks to the forehead. I could make my laptop read to ME? Using HEADPHONES? ARGH!

And it works. Mostly. The tone is a bit flat, it doesn’t read things as naturally as you would yourself. But it also doesn’t get tired, distracted, or bored, ending up watching a squirrel nibble on an old muffin instead of actually working on the manuscript.

Did I mention: Argh! Oh well.

In any event, there you go. It’s worth thinking about: Meter. Rhythm. Reading your words out loud. You’ll be surprised at the difference it makes. Of course, polish is nothing without solid story structure and the other writing skills that you need, most mentioned in this post. Reading out loud is not a first draft tool, but a last draft one.

But if you want to improve your voice. If you have a solid story and sentence level problems are holding you back, it might be worth a try.

Your big-jowled English teacher be damned**.  🙂

____________________________________________ 

A book that I found a helpful resource is The Ode Less Traveled. Even better were SCBWI’s discussion boards—or at least they were a few years ago when I frequented them, as they had real poets willing to guide you in the basics, although I can’t weigh in on whether that’s still the case…

*If you have a Mac laptop like me, it’s the Speech and Diction option in Preferences, and has a default Option Esc key combo to make it work, once you’ve selected the text you want it to read.

** My apologies to English teachers everywhere. I’m just kidding, of course. My English teacher was a lovely lady and actually spurred me on to writing, with her encouragement and enthusiasm. I still remember and appreciate it.

Other random thoughts:

  • Shakespeare had a great command of plot and scene. But isn’t it interesting that one of the most enduring writers of history wrote in a structured and proven meter pattern (iambic pentameter)?
  • The first time that this concept was even partially introduced to me was in a writing craft book–I believe Bird by Bird, although I could be wrong–where the concept of ending a sentence with a hard beat was discussed, to add power and emphasis. I was rocked by the thought that a successful author cared about the SOUND of the word and not just its meaning.

The image for this post is actually not a finished one, but rather a few snapshots of the current piece that I am working on. I thought it looked kind of cool to show the progression, rough to more finished, and I didn’t have it completely done for today. Instead of waiting for the final piece, I thought I would include the roughs instead. It’ll save me rushing and potentially ruining the artwork through haste, or holding up the post until it’s done. I will probably post the final piece later, unless it takes a turn for the worse…

On Stage

The Naked Audition (or ‘Writing is Hard’)

Adrian

(PS, despite the title, the figure in the image above is wearing a bathing suit. Just to be clear. 🙂 )

Writing is hard.

Submitting is hard.

And criticism is hardest still.

Putting your work out there is like stepping into a naked modeling audition and waiting for the judges to comment. The spot lights are hot, their expressions cold and clinical, and there is nowhere to hide, especially when the comments begin. And God forbid someone laughs…

It may be worthwhile; it may be a necessary step towards your dream; but one thing it is not: Easy.

I say this because I think that many writing blogs, including mine so far, don’t want to dwell on it. We want to put a positive vibe out into the world, we want to be seen by future business partners (agents and editors) as upbeat, professional, go-getters that they would like to work with, and that they won’t have to coddle and wipe our tears. That we’re confident. Capable. People who pick themselves up and learn from failure, not let it derail them.

So let’s assume we’re all that. For the most part it’s true. But the truth is that being naked in front of a crowd is still hard, even if the judges are sincerely trying to help you. Unless you’re Brad Pitt (and maybe even for him).

So if you’re an aspiring writer and you find yourself struggling to write in the afternoon after a painful rejection or critique that morning, don’t be too harsh on yourself. The sting will pass. If it feels like you’ve just been told that your spare tire is showing, or  you could do a little more upper body work, don’t worry. Don’t write off the advice, necessarily. Presumably you wanted it for a reason. Or maybe it’s just the price of getting your work out there. But if you find yourself standing mutely in the spotlight, sweat trickling slowly down your back, and your cheeks warming  in embarrassment–

It’s okay. For Heaven’s sake; it’s okay. Take a breath, compose yourself.

Smile politely, don’t argue, thank the judges, and take their advice. Eat better and do the recommended extra upper body work. Or don’t, in the belief that someone else will find you beautiful just the way you are. It could well be true. Writing is a subjective business, with many genres and stylistic preferences, even between publishing houses.

But my point is this: you can be professional, talented, and headed for amazing things. And you’ll still experience rejection and critique (except for Brad). And criticism and rejection is hard.

It’s a spot that all writers find themselves in, sooner or later… From what I hear, both before and after publication.

If it helps, you’re not alone. And maybe it helps me to remind myself that I’m not either. 🙂

Here’s wishing success for all of us! (Even Brad. Even if he needs it less than most. Because I still like his movies.)

 

For the record, while this blog will remain positive and I have no intention on dwelling on every rejection or critique, or letting them derail me from accomplishing my goals, minor or major, I may link to this post once in a while.

Because some days are  better than others. 🙂

 

This image was created for this post, inspired by a fast computer sketch I did while writing it. A bit different style, but hey, who says I have to be consistent? 🙂 

Procrastination

Oops. Or wonderful distraction.

Adrian

Um, Oops.

I actually have a post brewing somewhere about not getting distracted by the internet, and keeping the monster (me) in the cage. And what did I do?

Found a wonderful book and blog (Sky Jumpers and Peggy Eddleman)… And links from her blog to other wonderful blogs… And…

Gulp. My Feedly is pretty full!

As I may have mentioned, between the job and the Hooligans, I don’t have a whack of free time. So, I might have to do some blog pruning soon, to balance  shiny and informative blog posts with actually typing stuff in my manuscript, which is growling at me angrily.

Today was another bad day, as I got a panic attack that Yahoo (my personal email provider) would disappear overnight and all my story ideas–which I tend to email myself for convenience–would disappear and I would throw myself off a bridge. So I spent a good two hours compiling, polishing, and saving them to a file on my laptop. Whew.

Good use of my time? I have no idea. 🙂

On a plus note, in the last week, I have done about ten pages of rewriting the manuscript in a tighter POV and… wow. It’s hard to know if something is better or not when you’re so close to it, but I’m pretty sure I feel a new power in the changes I’m making, more potency to the pages. It’s a bit worrying in case I screw this whole thing up, for example from overworking the manuscript, but I’m still pretty excited. I feel like I might have levelled up (oh yes, antiquated arcade game post coming up, he he).

Craft post coming soon!

 

This image (the devilish baby) was done for this post, which delayed the publishing a bit, but I was hoping for an icon I could use for more random procrastination-related posts, and decided to put a bit more time into it, as it might be reused. The time investment falls somewhere between the snake and the little dragon, and I’m not sure yet whether it was worth it. I’ll see how I feel with the benefit of time, which is usually what happens with my art. I have no objectivity immediately after finishing it, and can better evaluate things a couple of weeks later. And, yes, that’s common for writing too… 🙂

Sometimes you want to listen to the ancient snake charmer with twenty cobras and an enigmatic smile…

Adrian

…and sometimes you want to listen to the beardless assistant with a  single sickly-looking snake and lots of bandages on his arms…

I do have a craft post coming (already written, but I was hoping to do a small graphic which has delayed things), but I had an interesting experience today, which ended up being indirectly motivating to my efforts on this site, even though it was somewhat humbling.

The trigger was a critique on my current WIP (‘work in progress’), that was insightful, helpful, and impeccably courteous, but (inevitably for a useful critique) humbling too. It made me realize that my work wasn’t perfect (I know, shocking huh?) and there are areas of technique where I still haven’t reached my full potential.

This had two immediate impacts. First, I revised the timeline on my WIP, adding another six months to its finish date. Oddly, this was depressing, but slightly liberating, as I’d been pushing for a year-end submission, which was looking more and more unlikely, even before this critique. At least now, I know there’s no hope of meeting that deadline So there’s less pressure to grind it out over the holidays. I can enjoy my family time a bit more.

The second impact was that I immediately started researching resources in the area of craft that I wanted to improve on (POV and internalization, as it happens) and I came to an interesting realization. Some of the best material on the topic, giving insight and direction, came not from pros, who were likely too busy writing or publishing themselves, but advanced beginners like me, often a little before their first published book, or just after, running a blog and hitting the same roadblocks and revelations. I found one post that I could have written myself, today, from another author on the same topic.

Which isn’t to say that I didn’t buy a couple of published books on the topic as well. I did, just to keep my facts straight. But I still realized that I could gain a lot from following people like me. Not rank beginners, but not rarified atmosphere pros either. So I deleted one of my publishing blogs on my Feedly (a blog aggregator, for those not familiar) and signed up instead to a couple of blogs written by advanced beginners instead. I’m not following only beginners. And I’m not following only pros. I’m finding some balance in between.

So why is that motivating for this site? Because my first reaction, on realizing I had shortfalls (again, shocking, I know), was to question what value there was to me sharing my knowledge through a blog. Who would come to this site rather than read top-rated publishing how-to books?

And then I realized it was me. People like me. Learning and growing. Trying to knock the wicker basket off the snakes without their wrists getting turned into mincemeat.

People who might be smart enough to listen to the guy with no beard and bandages before stretching out their hand…

 

(PS, the featured image is new art done for today’s post. At roughly an hour’s work, it’s not that polished by my standards. But it might be useful to have this kind of rough image available for impromptu posts. We’ll see how I like it after some due consideration!)

brooding devil

The Counterman from Hell (or ‘Writing Craft Books’)

Adrian

Like many others, visit this site I suspect, what is ed I have had many stops and starts in the development of my writing career. Writing is an intimidating, difficult, and soul-searing thing (but misery loves company, so please, join me!). 🙂 I remember in my first couple of decades, acquiring a couple of writing books, reading them, and ambitiously writing my first novel (sci-fi, if I remember, although I don’t remember a lot about it, and all copies are lost). In any event, it was callously rejected, although thinking back, I may have gotten a personally written note on one of the rejections. For those in the trenches, you know that’s a good thing, to be treasured. But oh well, instead, I was crushed, demoralized, and went another decade before I wrote again.

But this blog post is not about my first manuscript, whatever degree of quality it may or may not have been, or even the process of submitting it, which has evolved a lot since then (hello email). Rather, I want to talk about those first writing books I bought, and an incident that happened a few years later, which stuck with me.

In my late twenties, I lived in an apartment, with a couple of other guys in my masters program (not an MFA) and with limited living space, so I decided to clear out of some of my many books (long before e-readers became popular). So I took two boxes of books to a local second-hand book store, to see if I could earn a few pennies, and feel like I wasn’t tossing something valuable into the garbage.

The store was cramped, musty, and had several crooked towers of books behind the narrow counter. The goateed guy behind the cash took my boxes and said he’d pick out which books they were interested in buying, and for what price. While he did that, I browsed.

When he was done, the counterman called me over and offered me money for roughly a third of the books. He had a question for me too, though. Pulling my two writing manuals out of the stack, he looked at me curiously. “Did they work? Did you publish anything?”

Taken aback, I shook my head. After I mumbled I wasn’t writing much anymore, he nodded knowingly. “I’m not surprised. These sell well, but they don’t do any good.”

Even at the time, I balked at agreeing to that statement, although I didn’t invite an argument by saying anything. I’d only given him only two of the three books I owned on writing. The third one (Writing to Sell, written by Scott Meredith, who agented some of the science fiction Greats in the mid 1900’s), I still thought worth keeping. I still harbored dreams of success, even if many of the counterman’s customers had given up (or maybe just he had?).

In any event, I’ve thought back to his comment frequently over the years, whenever I delve back into my writing craft books, and I think that he drew the wrong conclusion from his observations, as factual as they may have been. So a few years later, I’m going to make a few points that I think are worth considering:

A – Good writing books are like diamonds in a coal bin, rare and surrounded by worthless imitations (and, possibly stretching the anecdote too far, not always easy for someone in the dark to tell apart).

Lots of people have published How-To Writing books. Arguably too many people. The publishing industry may be its own worst enemy here. They will publish any book that makes a profit, but the proliferation of bad, or even mediocre, writing books hurts the quality of their fiction product by making it hard for emerging writers to learn their craft. (PS, I recognize the irony of making that statement, as a yet-unpublished author posting writing tips. Sometimes I make myself laugh).

I was originally planning to say that the best defense is to look at books written by people with evidenced mastery of craft, but I changed my mind, even though I think that these people are worth listening too. The problem is that that test fails for some very legitimate books, at least in my mind. For example, Syd Field, the author of Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting, was, as far as I’m aware, at best a midlist screenwriter himself, but he was red hot as a big picture plot thinker and story doctor. He worked in that capacity for Disney for years–and you can’t argue with the success of the Lion King! So I would adjust my advice to say instead that accomplished writer books OR referrals are probably the best screening tool for quality writing advice. As my skills have improved, I’ve found that I like many of the same books that my favorite writer/ bloggers do.

B- Writing is a leveled craft.

Writing has levels of technical difficulty, just like any other study or sport. Stephen King described this as having different tools in the tool box, for different levels of difficulty. I might use another example: my toddler is learning ice skating right now, and one of the first things that they teach young skaters is to stand up straight with their arms out at their sides, so that they can have the pride and achievement of standing unaided on the ice, and help their balance if things start to go wrong (along with a massive sticker-laden Darth Vader helmet for when the child inevitably pitches over).

I don’t know about you, but I don’t see too many NHL players skating around with their arms stretched out like a bird.

My personal experience is that I pick up different things from the same writing book at different times. Even though I might have thought I understood what the author meant the first time, the comment often gains more relevance and resonance as I ‘level up’ in my writing. For example, conflict is a concept hammered home from Day 1 in almost every writing book, but there is a difference in having a murderer invade your home as a premise (story conflict on a very broad level) and having conflict in quiet conversational scenes, with no enemies in sight (usually spiced up through tension created by conflicting goals). The more subtle tension is more difficult and arguably more important to maintain.

C- It takes a long time to master a conscious knowledge of the craft.

I actually believe in the talent of overnight successes. I think Stephanie Meyer (as I understand it, Twilight was her first manuscript, although feel to correct me if I’m wrong) is incredibly talented and a strong writer, for tension, character, and plot twists. There are other first books (as in the writer’s first completed manuscript) that I love. But some of those writers (and in this case, I’m not talking about Ms. Meyer) don’t maintain the same high level of quality.

I believe that some people are instinctually good writers (a strong storytelling ability combined with lots of reading to give an instinctive feel for how stories should go) but, I suspect that not having the same conscious mastery of the craft (ie. relying on instincts instead of analysis) makes it harder to maintain a high and consistent level of quality, simply because there is less understanding of how that high quality product is achieved. It is the same reason why good natural batters can still benefit from a batting coach in the major leagues–even if that coach never achieved the summits of success that their pupils did. Natural talent and good coaching are more powerful together, than either alone.

In summary, a somewhat involved post triggered by a fairly simple comment, but one I think is useful to consider for beginning writers. In my belief, just because one writing book doesn’t make you a published author, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t buy the next one. I think you should. Just try to buy ones that actually help, and aren’t just another piece of dusty coal in the bin.

As an aside, that trip to the bookstore was memorable for another reason. I parked on the busy street outside the store while ducking in, thinking I’d only be there for a minute or two. In other words, I didn’t feed the meter.

The goateed counterman gave me twenty dollars for my books.

The parking ticket was fifty.