Linkage
As you may have noticed, this blog is now landing at http://kaitnolan.com. If you are one of the kind souls who links to this blog, I humbly beg you to update your blogroll. While you're there (or if you're adding a new link), it's probably best if you list me simply as Kait Nolan instead of the blog title (as I have amply proved my fickle nature on that point). Thanks! You're made of awesome!At first I was afraid, I was petrified…
And then I started taking a realistic look at the problems that pantsing was causing me. (Warning, I am about to shamelessly mix metaphors)
Tangents
When I write by the seat of my pants, I have a really bad habit of going off on tangents. Like psychotic rabbits on speed, bouncing off the wall of plot tangents. Some “what if…?” idea will occur to me and I’ll run with it, displaying that same enthusiasm that usually accompanies fresh ideas. Except that instead of Sexy Next Book, it’s Sexy Next Plot Idea. Nevermind that SNPI may have no bearing on the heart of my plot. I’ll go back and tie it in during revisions. Nevermind that SNPI is the height of self indulgence because I really want my heroine to take this new turn in life and quit her job and open a bookstore, even though there’s a killer on the loose. You see my point? Without having at least a loose outline to hang the plot on, I’m absolutely guilty of going off on tangents. Tangents that I ultimately have to cut during revisions. Tangents that I wasted weeks or months of writing time on, the holes of which (after cutting) must still be filled. This is a monumental waste of writing time.
The Dreaded Valley of the Shadow of the Middle
Ah yes, the DVSM. I despise the DVSM. This is the point in the writing journey with every single book where I start to question my fortitude because once I run out of that initial creative steam, I am left standing on the precipice of the DVSM with no idea what happens next. Which leads to tangents (see above). I limp through, throw a bunch of scenes in, which theoretically get me from the first third to the last with nothing more than creative ingenuity, spit, and duct tape. Such construction does not a good novel make. Middles are the weak spot for SO MANY novels and account for a huge percentage of the volume of New York’s slush piles. And I honestly believe that weak middles are very often a symptom of pantsing. Not always, but very very often. They are the fatty, flabby, un-toned abdomen of your novel. And over here in the other corner are the plotters, with six pack abs on their novels. C’mon, don’t you want those six pack abs?
The Rambling Road To Finished Is The Roadtrip From Hell
Every book is a journey. We’ve all heard that metaphor before. And it is. As a pantser, you’re starting out on a road trip with a vague destination in mind, maybe you know your travelling companions. Maybe you just know where you want to end up. But you set out without a map. And inevitably you make a wrong turn. A lot of them. And what should have been a grand adventure turns into the Roadtrip from Hell (or perhaps to Hell, depending). You hooked a right by that gas station 50 miles back and now you’re in Deliverance country. Or maybe the ghetto. Or any other number of places you do not want to end up on a road trip. And even if you make it to the end of this Road Trip From Hell and get a finished draft, there is still the issue of–
Massive Revisions Necessary
Yep, revisions. You pantsed your way all the way to the end of a manuscript. Now you have to turn it into something salable. You have to wade back through the mess and see what’s salvageable. Because that’s what revisions are, very often, when people pants (not always–some pantsers wind up with a very solid book at the end, but I’d say they are the exception rather than the rule). Revisions become a salvage mission to cut out the usable material and figure out what you can do to renovate the poor foundation you started with, shore it up, and create something more solid. It’s a balancing act. And sure, it can be done. I’ve finished 4 books this way. A couple of them even turned out decently and not entirely full of suck. But the graveyard of abandoned projects littering my hard drive is good proof that there are many dozens more that I didn’t.
The long and the short of it is that pantsing (for most of us) is hideously inefficient. You waste time and effort on tangents and wrong turns because you didn’t take the time to plan your trip out ahead of time. Some people are okay with that. If you’re that person, then pants to your heart’s desire. But if you’re like me and writing is not your primary occupation and you want it to be, then it would behoove you to think about learning to plot. Now lest you be frightened away, let me say this. Pantsing and Plotting are not either/or propositions. As one commenter mentioned yesterday, it really is a continuum with pantsing on one end and plotting on the other. If you are a hard core pantser, then maybe you just want to bump a couple of notches toward the plotting end. That’s totally okay. As with all writing, there is no right or wrong way to do things. Everybody has their own methods. Over the course of the rest of the week, I’ll be sharing with you some of mine, and maybe you’ll luck out and find something that you can make work for you.
Drop a comment (before tomorrow’s post goes up around 9) about what you dislike about pantsing and why it doesn’t work for you or why you may be considering becoming a plotter, and you’ll be entered to win a gently used copy of Nevada Barr’s Track of the Cat, first in the Anna Pidgeon series. As before, I’ll ship anywhere, but if you’re outside the U.S. it will be via a slow and affordable boat.
And as a quick update, the winner from yesterday of a copy of Touch A Dark Wolf is Peggy! Peggy, drop me an email at kaitnolanwriter@gmail.com with your mailing address, and I’ll get that out to you at the end of this week.
When Lynn did her call for Left Behind and Loving It contributors this year, I decided right off that I wanted to do a series chronicling my shift from pantser to plotter. It’s a conversion that many have made and even more fear. There’s this idea that one is born a pantser or a plotter and that never the twain shall meet.
Well, I’m living proof that that isn’t the case.
Before I go on, I feel compelled to offer a definition of this term for any who are unfamiliar with it. A “pantser” is someone who writes by the seat of their pants without a plan, without an outline, merely allowing the story and characters to go where they will. A “plotter”, by contrast, usually has some measure of plan, outline, or story map to follow before they begin writing.
All my writing life (from the age of 12 on), I have been a pantser. I tend to get bitten by the bug for a new story and I take the bit in my teeth and run with it as fas and far as I can. Inevitably this tends to run out somewhere in the vicinity of the Dreaded Valley of the Shadow of the Middle (DVSM). That’s usually the point at which I begin to wish I had a map or outline of some kind to follow so that I know what comes next. But I, like many of my fellow pantser compatriots, feared plotting.
There are many reasons for such fear. I’ll spare you the deep, psychological analysis and narrow it down to some of the most popular fears I’ve heard among fellow pantsers. Among them are:
- It will kill creativity: Many pantsers are convinced that if they do try to hammer out an entire plot before writing that it will simply kill their creativity–that their plot will simply drown like an overwatered houseplant.
- I work organically: Many pantsers feel that their plot grows out of the story itself as it is written, sprouting forth new growth each day like kudzu. They feel that plotting goes entirely against that organic approach and that fixing the story in a hard and fast outline will, again, kill their creativity.
- I learn my characters as I go: This was a huge one for me. Sometimes I will know one or two of my characters before I ever put a word on the page, but more often, I simply learn them as I go. How can I possibly plan an entire book around characters that I don’t know yet? If I don’t know them, I don’t know what they will do or how they will react to certain situations. Ergo, I cannot plot.
- Knowing what happens–where’s the fun in that? Also a huge one for me. I really love the surprise in writing. I adore when my characters pop up and do something unexpected. Knowing exactly what happens and having a detailed outline absolutely ruins that surprise. It’s like being that kid who peeks at presents before Christmas morning.
- It’s boring: The entire process of plotting is boring. There’s none of the fun of snappy dialogue or the drama of conflict. It’s like writing out the main points of a research paper–which is one of the most horrifyingly boring thinks you can do. Which brings us to…
- Feels like school: That research paper? Yeah it’s like doing homework. It sucks and it’s not fun. And finally…
- Dude, it’s HARD! Plotting is not for the faint of heart. Anybody who thinks that plotting–real plotting wherein you figure out an entire plot, built on a solid foundation of Goal, Motivation, and Conflict for the characters–is not easy. Like dieting, every time I tried I wound up falling off the wagon. Pantsing is like cookie dough–it is my diet Kryptonite–or rather my writing Kryptonite.
For some people, I really think that they feel that plotting, which is, by its very nature, a very organized sort of activity, is the absolute antithesis of the artistic personality. There’s this connotation that we’re supposed to be these organic, not quite connected to reality kind of people. Many pantsers see plotting as work. And, well, it is. I have also heard some pantsers talk with a sort of disdain for plotters, as if taking the time to plot and figure things out on the front end somehow diminishes the accomplishment of writing a book. I’ve heard born plotters (they do exist) look to pantsers (or rather their end results) with a sort of awe that they were able to take that leap of faith and just write. There’s a certain expectation that the pantser is somehow better because they don’t have to plot and organize. As if the initial imaginative spew IS the thing we read on the published page.
To that, I say, have you ever read a pantser’s true first draft? I daresay most of them bear very little resemblance to their final product. When picking your way through the pantser/plotter dynamic, never ever forget that there is much editing and revision involved.
Whether such prejudices are on the pantser side or the plotter side, they are simply not true. And that’s something I had to learn the hard way over the last three years. Despite my assorted fears, something in me kept pushing me to try to plot. I had a number of problems with pantsing that I’ll talk about tomorrow.
Are you a pantser who fears plotting? How about a plotter who’s terrified of pantsing? Let us know which side of the fence you fall on and why you’re scared of the other side, and you’ll be entered to win a gently used copy of Jennifer St. Giles’ Touch a Dark Wolf. I’m willing to ship anywhere (though if you’re outside the U.S. it’ll probably be via a slow boat…as I’m on a budget). A winner will be drawn from all commenters who comment before tomorrow’s post goes up.
I am supposed to be working on a scene with my villain today. Instead, I’m working with a real life villain in the form of the powerpoints with video that I’m trying to make into a DVD. I’m becoming an expert on free software for video file conversion, editing, merging, etc. FYI, PowerPoint does not embed video. It links to it. If your PowerPoint file and the video you’re linking to are not in the same folder, or if both are buried in a multi folder file structure, PowerPoint gets pissy. Just FYI. But I’m not here to talk about PowerPoint.
Last night, when I finished revising the scene I’ve been working on all week and started blocking out the next one, Pot pointed out that rather than showing the events coming up from Marley or Conall’s perspectives, I should do it from Knox’s. I hate that she’s right about that because I just don’t want to spend time with this guy. It’s not because he’s sick and twisted and scary. I can totally do sick and twisted and scary. In fact, I prefer it to the more run of the mill, Machievellian plotting that this guy is prone to.
I’ve been trying to figure out why I’m so averse to dealing with this guy. Seriously, all the scenes that are supposed to be in his head I’ve either abbreviated or skipped entirely. One of my Twitter pals suggested it’s because he’s not really the villain. I pondered that for about ten minutes, but really, nobody else fits the bill without a massive rewrite and re-envisioning of the plot. So what is it? Does he bore me because he’s NOT the sick, twisted, SOB that I so revel in writing? He’s not a serial killer with a body count in the double digits, so he’s not worth my notice?
Usually I sit down and do these really detailed psychological analyses of my villains. Because of course in the past I was writing romantic suspense and serial killers or arsonists or assasins. I like to write the sort of villains I want to read. Complex and interesting. The kind of villains a lot of writers are afraid to write, either because they are scared to know that they have that sort of darkness inside them or because they simply have a poor understanding of abnormal motivation and chalk such characters up as simply being “evil” (which, FYI, is my number one pet peeve–I can’t tolerate just a simple “he’s evil and that’s why he does x, y, z”. NO! There are always motivations. They may not be normal or sane by our standards, but they exist and you as a writer should know them! Stepping off soap box). I haven’t done any of that with Knox.
Oh I’ve done his GMC chart. I know enough of his backstory to know what’s motivating his current actions. He’s power hungry, a dominant wolf, and he wants what he feels is rightfully his. The old alpha just got in the way. And then Conall goes and gets in the way. Everybody’s in his way. He’s very frustrated by that. But he’s just…not meaty enough for me yet. I don’t want my reader to be bored witih him because I seem to be. So I need to do some more character development with him.
In the meantime, I’m off to check attempt number 4 of this video to see if it works right.
Because I’m busy with deadlines at work and this gave me many rolling belly laughs:
Reproduced from this Craigslist ad.
NINJA HAULER: 2005 Nissan Xterra – $10900 (schertz)
Reply to: sale-ut5ph-1257065913@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
Date: 2009-07-06, 10:26PM CDTOK, let me start off by saying this Xterra is only available for purchase by the manliest of men (or women). My friend, if it was possible for a vehicle to sprout chest hair and a five o’clock shadow, this Nissan would look like Tom Selleck. It is just that manly.
It was never intended to drive to northstar mall so you can pick up that adorable shirt at Abercrombie & Fitch that you had your eye on. It wasn’t meant to transport you to yoga class or Bath & Body Works. No, that’s what your Prius is for. If that’s the kind of car you’re looking for, then just do us all a favor and stop reading right now. I mean it. Just stop.
This car was engineered by 3rd degree ninja super-warriors in the highest mountains of Japan to serve the needs of the man that cheats death on a daily basis. They didn’t even consider superfluous nancy boy amenities like navigation systems (real men don’t get lost), heated leather seats (a real man doesn’t let anything warm his butt), or On Star (real men don’t even know what the hell On Star is).
No, this brute comes with the things us testosterone-fueled super action junkies need. It has a 265 HP engine to outrun the cops. It’s got special blood/gore resistant upholstery. It even has a first-aid kit in the back. You know what the first aid kit has in it? A pint of whiskey, a stitch-your-own-wound kit and a hunk of leather to bite down on when you’re operating on yourself. The Xterra also has an automatic transmission so if you’re being chased by Libyan terrorists, you’ll still be able to shoot your machine gun out the window and drive at the same time. It’s saved my bacon more than once.
It has room for you and the four hotties you picked up on the way to the gym to blast your pecs and hammer your glutes. There’s a tow hitch to pull your 50 caliber anti-Taliban, self cooling machine gun. I also just put in a new windshield to replace the one that got shot out by The Man.
My price on this bad boy is an incredibly low $10,900, but I’ll entertain reasonable offers. And by reasonable, I mean don’t walk up and tell me you’ll give me $5,000 for it. That’s liable to earn you a Burmese-roundhouse-sphincter-kick with a follow up three fingered eye-jab. Would it hurt? Hell yeah. Let’s just say you won’t be the prettiest guy at the Coldplay concert anymore.There’s only 69,000 miles on this four-wheeled hellcat from Planet Kickass. Trust me, it will outlive you and the offspring that will carry your name. It will live on as a monument to your machismo.
Now, go look in the mirror and tell me what you see. If it’s a rugged, no holds barred, super brute he-man macho Chuck Norris stunt double, then contact me. I might be out hang-gliding or BASE jumping or just chilling with my ladies, but I’ll get back to you. And when I do, we’ll talk about a price over a nice glass of Schmidt while we listen to Johnny Cash.
To sweeten the deal a little, I’m throwing in this pair of MC Hammer pants for the man with rippling quads that can’t fit into regular pants. Yeah, you heard me. FREE MC Hammer pants.
Rock on.
- Location: schertz
- it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
The fabulous Lynn Viehl, Paperback Writer, each year does an awesome online blog conference for those of us not going to RWA (either because we don’t want to, can’t afford it, won’t fit our schedules, or whatever). Not only does she always write a series of fabulous and informative posts herself, but she links to other blogs around the net who are also participating. There are always great series on everything you can imagine and best of all there are giveaways! I’ve been lucky enough to win book giveaways the last couple of years, and it’s always a really huge thrill (I mean, come on, free books and other goodies? What’s not to love?).
In any event, I’ve decided to participate by offering a series myself on Going From Pantser to Plotter.
Planned posts (subject to change as I have not yet written them) include:
- Why The Pantser Fears Plotting
- My Problems With Pantsing
- Stuff I’ve Used In My Conversion
- Why Plot?
I’m also hitting up my bookshelves for some gently used books to give away. I know the big thing is to give away shiny new books, but despite being 3 years out of grad school, I am still on a broke grad student’s budget (as we are now paying to put my husband through school), so we work with what we have, right?
In any event, things kick off on Monday, July 13th.
In the meantime, if you haven’t already checked out my series on Character Interviews, you can find them here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.
As I posted last week, hubby and I were fortunate enough to obtain a free piano. To move said piano, you will need:
- 1 piano dolly
- 1 truck
- 1 trailer with ramp
- a dozen bungee cords
- 1 climber’s rope
- 4 ratchet straps
- 2 big strong male friends of spouse who can be bribed with beer and pizza
- 2 old quilts for padding
- 2 large tarps
- 1 come along
- 3 8′ 2×4s
- 1 6′ 4×4
- assorted screws
- heavy duty chain
- scrap carpet
- Crisco
Directions:
- Carefully place the piano on the dolly.
- Maneuver it onto the trailer.
- Wrap in blankets and tarps to protect from rain. Secure those blankets with bungees and ropes.
- Secure piano with ratchet straps to trailer.
- Drive home.
- Argue for over an hour about the best way to get piano up short flight of 6 steps because only your spouse thinks they can actually carry it in.
- Make a ramp of a pair of 2×4s and build a brace for the inside of the hall door frame from the remaining 2×4 and 4×4.
- Rig system of chain, tie straps, and come along from hall out front door and down stairs to piano.
- Unsuccessfully try sliding piano up the ramp using scrap carpet.
- Rob the kitchen of Crisco and grease the rails.
- Carefully lift the lower end of the piano as someone operates the come along until the piano is fully on the rail.
- Get ann0yed with waiting on the come along and put your back into it and shove it up as if it was the offensive line (that was hubby’s answer and it was much more effective).
- Carefully lift the piano up over the threshold and onto the dolly.
- Push it down the hall.
- Remove the dolly.
- Slide the piano into place.
- Feed your hungry man helpers with pizza and beer.
I’d like to introduce my lovely readers to a fellow writer from my hometown. Patricia Neely-Dorsey is author of Reflections of A Mississippi Magnolias: A Life In Poems. Like me, she has great interest in educating the masses about what Mississippi is really like. In her book, she celebrates the south and all things southern. As Patricia says,
“There are so many negative connotations associated with Mississippi and the south in general. In my book, using childhood memories, personal thoughts and dreams, I attempt to give a positive glimpse into the southern way of life. In my book I try to show that there is much is more to Mississippi and the south than all of the negatives usually portrayed. I invite readers to Meet Mississippi (and the south) Through Poetry ,Prose and The Written Word.”
This is a particular hot button for me, as I’ve so frequently encountered misconceptions and ignorance from people who have never had the opportunity to visit my home state. So more power to you, Patricia!
If you’re a poetry fan or simply want to learn a bit more about Mississippi from someone who loves it, check out Patricia’s book, available here at Amazon.
And here’s a sample from Reflections:
SOUTHERN LIFE
If you want a glimpse of Southern life,
Come close and walk with me;
I’ll tell you all the simple things,
That you are sure to see.
You’ll see mockingbirds and bumblebees,
Magnolia blossoms and dogwood trees,
Caterpillars on the step,
Wooden porches cleanly swept;
Watermelons on the vine,
Strong majestic Georgia pines;
Rocking chairs and front yard swings,
Junebugs flying on a string;
Turnip greens and hot cornbread,
Coleslaw and barbecue;
Fried okra, fried corn, fried green tomatoes,
Fried pies and pickles too.
There’s ice cold tea that’s syrupy sweet,
And cool, green grass beneath your feet;
Catfish nipping in the lake,
And fresh young boys on the make.
You’ll see all these things
And much, much more,
In a way of life that I adore.Copyright 2008 Patricia Neely-Dorseyfrom Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia-A Life In Poems
It’s July the 4th. Happy Independence Day everybody!
I’m curled up on the sofa with one of the dogs, still in my pjs, enjoying a lovely strong cup of hot tea. There is, as far as I am concerned, no better way to start the day. Well possibly one of those rare days when you wake up with words practically hemorrhaging out of you to get on the page–waking up in The Zone. But those are few and far between.
I realized yesterday on my day off that I’ve had a really fantastic week. I can’t remember the last time I could say that. I didn’t have cause to blow up at my boss. She wasn’t driving me nuts. Everything went as it should at work. I spent a lovely week reading and refilling the well (finishing the beta read of West Club Moon for my friend Kristen, The Demon’s Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan, and am now rereading Cry Wolf by Patricia Briggs to get back into pack mode for the scenes I shall be writing next week). My house is wonderfully clean because one of my good college friends came up Thursday and Friday, and we did a full cleaning in her honor. I feel relaxed and centered and generally just wonderful. The only thing that would make it better would be a 30 degree drop in temperature, but it’s July, so I’ll count what blessings I have.
I didn’t realize how incredibly stressed I’ve been over this year until I wasn’t. No doubt it won’t last because fall semester is coming, and I’ve got much to do to prepare for it with the expansions on my abnormal class curriculum and the planning of whatever I plan to teach in the spring. I will get insanely busy again and turn to writing to keep me sane.
All of it has me thinking about independence today. Not so much freedom from persecution but more the pursuit of happiness.
Everything I have been doing over the last few years has been for the pursuit of long term happiness. I’ve taken on extra jobs, not only to pay off debt faster, but to expand my job opportunities. The more online teaching I can do, the sooner I will reach a place where I can do it full time. And let’s face it. As a career, online teaching bookends much better with a writing career than a traditional 8 to 5 job. That it also strategically fits in with being able to stay home with my children when we have them is more like a side benefit. But really, it’s all for the writing.
A lot of the time I feel very much as if I am fighting a war with life to pursue that happiness. Writing is not a practical career. That’s something that’s been drummed into me from the time I first expressed an interest in doing it. So I spent years pursuing other things (which turned out not to be a whole lot more practical, in fact). Yet I always come back to writing. It is the thing that I have to do. Being a practical woman, I have worked really hard coming up with ways to support myself and my family while I pursue it. And yes, that means spreading myself too thin for several years in order to get those career ducks in a row. And I get stressed and tired and sometimes viciously cranky because I feel like it all takes away from the writing. For now it does. But it won’t always. I have to vigilantly remind myself that I’m doing all of this to achieve the independence that I need in order to truly make a career of writing.
Long live independence.
My husband is a musician. Incredibly talented, one of those annoying people who can play almost anything. His primary instrument is guitar, but he also plays piano. He’s been wanting one for ages. But pianos, of course, are expensive, so we’ve never gotten one. Oh, we’ve kicked around the idea of a full sized keyboard at some point but haven’t done anything with that either.
Yesterday morning I get a frantic phone call while I was in the shower. “CHECK YOUR EMAIL!”
Okay okay.
My mother had forwarded us an email. A woman in her office had a piano that had belonged to her daughter (who tragically died in an accident several years ago). It was being stored in her church up to this point, but they are tearing the old church building down and she didn’t want the piano to get destroyed. So she was giving it away for free.
We jumped on it. So we’ve acquired an antique piano. We’re bribing friends with beer to help us go get it on Sunday. We’re really excited. I never learned to play other than picking out my part for choir, but I always wanted to learn to play. DH has always wanted one for writing (music that is).
Other bonus, it has to go in hubby’s office, which means that the disaster that is that space must finally be cleaned. I am ecstatic on this point. I’ve been wanting that done for months.
It will have to be tuned, of course. And eventually we’d like to see it get refinished. But it’s a piano! We’re really excited. Add to that the homemade ice cream that I’m making for tomorrow’s cookout and it’s going to be a really stellar 4th.
In her latest newsletter, Holly Lisle talks about doing something that makes me sigh with relief. A woman who tends to normally write 1500-3000k a day, her current project (or perhaps one of them) she is taking things slow.
I’m doing a consistent 250-500 words five nights a week. If you’ve
been with me for a while, you’ve discovered that my usual novel
pace is around 1500 words per day, and that I have on more
occasions than I care to remember run at 3000 words per day—
the sort of speed that makes a whole lot of writers think
“I could never do that.”Thing is, you don’t have to.
I’m already over 20,000 words just doing my casual amble. And
I’m having a wonderful time with the writing.
And she has invited others to take part in this one step at a time oddessy toward writing a book. The Write A Book With Me challenge rules are posted here. And you post your progress on whatever the latest WABWM post located here.
I really love this as, well, it’s essentially what I do. I’ve been all about sustainable change this last year, finding a way to balance all my obligations. And I can absolutely do 250-500 words a day, 5 days a week. I like the idea of having somewhere to post my progress. I did it here for a long time, but I felt like it was rather boring content that no one but me is actually interested in. This gives me somewhere to share the progress or lack of it. It’s the same thing I like about the 70 Days of Sweat, though not so sweaty. Speaking of which, when are they going to do another round of that?
Anyway, I think I’m going to enjoy participating in this challenge once I finish my Fill The Well reading week, and I thought others might like to join us.
Coming as I do from a background in clinical psychology, I am very familiar with systems of classification. In psychology, we’re very big on diagnosis and finding that particular name for a person’s ailment–which is really completely ridiculous since mental health does not follow the same strictures as medical science. Depression is not like a cold and does not always present the same way in all people. But still, the classification system exists, poor though it may be (largely due to insurance). One challenge I always make to my abnormal students early in the semester as we discuss classification systems is whether or not diagnosis is necessary for treatment. Almost invariably they say that it is because they retain at that point the very specific medical model that behavior can be diagnosed just like a disease. I usually spend the rest of the semester proving them wrong and emphasizing that behavior exists on a continuum from normal to abnormal–that there is no clear demarcation where the therapist can say that this person is normal but this person is not. Treatment must be tailored to the individual’s circumstances and particular presentation of symptoms. It isn’t like just tossing an antibiotic at an infection. But I digress.
What does this have to do with books?
Well, I just finished a beta read for one of my friends in Mission:Accountability. This novel was 140k, a profoundly strange mixture of historical, romance, mystery, paranormal, and suspense. I fully expected it to be bloated, wandering, and in need of serious revisions.
It wasn’t. I mean there is copy editing needed, and some of the plot threads needed to be more effectively woven through the whole book, but the story–the story was wonderful. And the characters–I adored the characters. It was a very good book. Incredibly unique, original–and utterly unmarketable.
Why?
Because in the publishing world, in the book world, everyone insists on the same sort of lousy classification system that exists in psychology. Yes there may be a vast majority of books/patients that fit a mould of how romance looks or how depression presents. But there will always be books that don’t fit that mould. Don’t fit the pigeon hole stereotype. And when publishing is so unsteady, those books often have a very hard time finding a home. And those that do find a home may wind up pissing readers off because it wasn’t necessarily the “right” home in their eyes. Just take a look at all of the urban fantasy/paranormal romance arguments. Fans have certain expectations of each of those genres and if an author dares to break that mould, it often pisses people off. God forbid an author try something different or simply try to write the story rather than the genre.
I really find it sad and tragic. The new and interesting and adventurous is often tossed by the wayside because agents or publishers don’t know how to market it. Like Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. You’ve got a love story, a historical, time travel, and a few other paranormal elements thrown in. Sometimes her books are shelved with romance. Sometimes sci fi. Sometimes general fiction. They are, quite simply, impossible to classify. And I think if she were a new author coming into today’s rocky market, those fabulously rich and detailed stories might not find a home. I’m hoping my friend doesn’t have that problem when she gets ready to query this bad boy. Because the world would seriously be missing out.
J.A. Konrath had an interesting post last week on whether you should self publish or not. He makes several interesting points about who and when you should self publish, heavily advocating for epubbing on that front. Good read, but what actually caught my attention was his statment about goals vs. dreams.
A goal is something within your power to achieve.
A dream is something that requires other people for you to achieve.
I thought this was a great distinction and one that many people don’t quite get. Writing is an often frustrating business. There are so many aspects that can frustrate along the path from germination of idea to production of a finished product (by which I mean a published book, not finished manuscript). I think this distinction between goals and dreams is a good one for helping us focus on those frustrations we actually have control over. Those would be the ones related to goals. Things that are within your power to achieve/control.
You can control your writing habits, sitting your butt in chair on a regular basis to get that novel finished. You can control whether you take your own writing aspirations as seriously as you take a more traditional paying job. You can control your own self-education regarding craft and story construction. You can control how thoroughly that book is edited and polished. You can control your synopsis, your query, who you send them to (in that you also control how thoroghly you research the submission requirements and what each agent is searching for). You can control your website or blog and all content that’s out there for the wide world to see. You can control how you use and behave on all the myriad of Web 2.0 social media sites. These are all things that are within your power, and they are all things that can affect the opinions of those other people that your dreams depend on.
So instead of griping about changes in the industry, flaws in the industry, bashing the taste of some agent or editor, or involving yourself on the latest kerfluffle out in Authorland, focus on those things you can control. Producing the best book you possibly can. It’s the best way to give those dreams a chance to come to fruition.
My how the traffic drops off when I am not here to post.
I am home from my writer’s retreat, exhausted, happy, and much enriched by the company of so many amazing writers. Thank you ladies for all the hours of fabulous cheese and private baloney. Yeah, don’t ask. You totally had to be there.
I am also completely and totally brain dead, so this week is officially declared a Reading Week to allow my brain to recover and to process the new material I wrote at the retreat. I broke 40k on the first draft, which is approaching the halfway point, and I’m pleased with that progress. I wound up with nearly 8k last week.
In other news, I had several Twitter buddies miss me while I was gone, which was nice to hear. I missed them too. I was sans interwebz from Friday til Sunday night. Apart from frequent exclamations that we missed Thesaurus.com or Google or IMDB, we all miraculously survived the lack and were quite productive.
And I came home to a new foster dog. Clearly my husband can’t be left alone… Kidding. I knew about him before I got home. He’s a German shepherd of indeterminate age–young but not puppy. Very sweet and very gentle. Already house trained. He adores Callie, and even Daisy tolerates him until he tries to get near her sofa. I’m calling him Jasper. If not for the very pertinent fact that he is a climber and can and has gone straight over our chain link fence, I suspect we’d think about keeping him. But we definitely can’t afford to replace our fence. And we really can’t afford the start up vet costs of a new dog. I was pleased today to find a rescue program run through our vet school here that we can apply for. He’d get fully vetted and neutered, and they will transport him north to a home that wants him. It’s ideal really. So hopefully they will accept him.
Must go force brain to work for evil day job…
- You turn on Twitter before you have ingested your caffeine of choice in the morning.
- If you have a random question, you turn to Twitter before you Google.
- At least 50% of your incoming email consists of Twitter follow notifications, Tweetlater announcements, or Twitter direct message notifications.
- You begin abbreviating words in email or IM (this is also a sign you could be a texting addict).
- You begin using hashtags in IM or email.
- You begin to refer to all your friends by their @username.
- You subscribe to someone’s twitter stream.
- When you get good (or bad) news, you immediately want to tweet about it before calling close friends or family.
- You have multiple Twitter profiles and it’s not because you are a writer trying to get to know your characters better.
- You dream in tweets. (Yes, I totally did this last night).
Well after opening my big mouth to talk about my fabulous productivity on Monday, yesterday was a massive fail on the writing front. I was shooting for 800 words, wound up with 220. Ick. I wrestled with it all day long trying to figure out a small but crucial detail of this next scene (that affects the beginning and how the rest of the scene goes). About 8 last night I realized it was because there is a concept of this world that’s very important to the scene that I’d never said anything about. Ever. So technically I was facing an explanation of some magnitude which would totally slow down the pacing of a scene that should be pretty urgent. (This was largely because I hadn’t made up my mind about that detail until I got to this scene).
The solution: go back and seed it earlier. I did a bit of that last night, though not to my satisfaction. At the moment there are 3 or 4 lines in assorted prior scenes that stick out like sore thumbs. And they can stay that way until the revision.
In any event, I hope to pick things up again today and get rolling on this next scene.
Your Midweek Belly Laugh (which I realize I have not posted in weeks) is provided by Kerry Allen, who presents Episode 2 of Pirpires of the Cacaobean: Curse of the Peanut Butter Cup (Part 2: All’s Well That Ends My Way). Vampire pirates and snark. What more can you ask for?
Episode 1 can be found here.
