
Archive for November, 2009
It’s my father’s birthday today, and in between cooking a fabulous birthday meal, I finished reading BY CUNNING AND CRAFT, by Peter Selgin.
I never read anything without a highlighter by my side, so I thought I’d post a few of the items that struck me, in the hopes that they’ll help you, too. I wholeheartedly recommend getting the book, by the way. It’s a quick read, filled with a lot of insightful tips. What I liked the most was the fact that the author is known for his short stories, and so he focused on that aspect of the craft. I love writing short, but so often books on writing are about the novel, because let’s face it, the novel is still considered the end-all-and-be-all of literary works.
Ask yourself, What does the character want? and then How far is she willing to go to get it? If the answer to the latter question is, Not very far, then at least you know why you’re having trouble writing active scenes: A character who doesn’t want anything, or doesn’t want it badly enough, is not going to act. Give her the necessary motivation, situate her such that she doesn’t simply want the thing in question, but needs it to survive physically or emotionally, and your character will do things to show us, vividly, who she is. (pg.33)
Unless it really tells us something about the character, don’t record banal gestures. “She took a breath and exhaled,” tells me nothing about a character other than her respiratory system is functioning. Because they serve no purpose, such stage directions are intrusive. (pg.108)
Research just enough to feel competent at discussing your subject. You don’t need to be a brain surgeon to discuss brain surgery, only to sound like a brain surgeon. (pg.120)
We fiction writers don’t always know what we’re doing. Until we’re done we never have the whole picture, only parts of it. (pg.182)
Often our working titles supply us with our stories’ themes or make it clear that we don’t yet know what they are. (Which is why you should title your stories provisionally, even in the earliest stages of writing, since the effort will help you locate the story’s center.) (pg.188)
What do you think of these quotes? Did anything resonate with you? Anything you don’t agree with? Drop me a line in the comments, and let’s discuss!
I’m going to veer away from writing advice in this post, but I hope both published and aspiring authors will find something useful to take away from what’s to come.
Why Do Sales Matter, Anyway?
Maybe you read that heading and thought I was being facetious. I’m not.
A number of very good author friends received their royalty statements from various publishers over the past couple of days. Emotions have been running high, and emails have been flying. A few of my friends — published, successful, talented authors — have threatened to quit writing.
Why?
Because, frankly, their sales have stunk.
Now, let me make it clear that my friends all accept the fact that they’re not in this business to get rich. None of them believe they’re going to write the next Harry Potter and magically become wealthier than the Queen of England. It’s not going to happen. And that’s okay.
But sales matter for other reasons.
1. They provide validation.
As authors, we write when other people watch TV. When our families are out skiing, or having a picnic, or splashing around in the pool. We skip out on girls’ night out, on after-work gatherings, and holiday parties. And at some point, we ask ourselves, “Is it worth it?”
Opening an envelope with a royalty check provides some of that much-needed validation. It lets us know that yes, someone’s reading our stories. Someone other than our parents and our editors (bless them) stayed up late to devour a book we wrote. That’s a mighty good feeling.
2. They let us know we’re on the right track
I write in a variety of genres. (The reasons why are fodder for another post.) But some genres suit my storytelling abilities better than others. And for the most part, readers know this. A quick glance at my sales statement lets me know which books readers sought out this quarter. Of course, there are other elements at play — like the popularity of a genre, for example — but for the most part, authors do best when they’re true to their voice.
Can you imagine Janet Evanovich writing dark horror? I wonder what her royalty statements would look like if she tried.
3. They keep us going
I don’t mean just psychologically, here. Publishing is a business. If an author’s sales are good, that author’s likely to continue writing for her publisher. If sales aren’t quite that hot… well, doubt starts to set in. “Will I ever sell again?” “Will anyone want to buy what I wrote?” “Should I get a job flipping burgers, knowing it would pay better than writing?” (It does, too, in most cases.)
As any author can tell you, we’re a neurotic bunch. We seek external validation, partly because writing is such a solitary endeavor, and partly because, well, we’re needy creative types. Fan mail, a good review, a kind word from a critique partner — those are the things we treasure. But all those feel-good keepsakes go up in smoke the moment we open a royalty statement and realize the book we poured our heart and soul into, the one that had us up writing until 4:00 AM for six months, sold just enough to buy a Starbucks triple mocha latte. At that point we start to wonder, like my friends did…
Is it worth it?
Should I quit?
Most of the time, the answer is a resounding no. We write for many reasons, and the need to tell a damn good story doesn’t vanish because our last damn good story didn’t sell well. We might even be able to put the sales numbers out of our heads and return to our keyboards to tackle the next book demanding to be told.
And we’ll be happy. Until the next royalty check lands in our mailbox, and we start fretting all over again.
Whoever told you being a published author was easy… lied.










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