“Harsh Writing Advice”

The other day, this phrase was going around on Twitter. The original tweet was as follows:

HARSH WRITING ADVICE:

Your writer friends are also your competition.

Sorry.

(Inserting a screen grab didn’t work, and I didn’t want to embed the actual tweet–no need to call out the author by name.)

Does this sentiment speak to an uncomfortable truth about our beloved craft? Is writing ultimately a brutal, cutthroat business? When you finally finish your book, will all your friends betray you in a ruthless and nihilistic struggle for power, like the end of Far Cry 2?

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating for the purpose of mocking this tweet. It’s not fair really; the offender already got dragged mercilessly for this. And, in some very broad sense, his advice isn’t entirely wrong.

There’s nothing wrong with friendly competition. When I sit down to write, I am competing with every other writer–I’m trying to write better stories, create more compelling characters, capture ideas that no one else has captured, after all.

But the competition ends when I step away from the manuscript. Competing against your fellow writers when you’re actually writing is just and proper; but competing against them in public forums, or even on such crass metrics as sales or reviews, is simply not allowable. It strikes at the integrity of the craft itself.

When I’m not actively writing, I’m trying to promote the craft–because if no one is reading anything, then there’s not much point in writing, is there?

It’s similar to sports. Every quarterback in the NFL is competing with the others. But each one also has respect for his rivals, and for the game itself. When playing against one another, each will try to play better than the other. But when, say, talking about to the press, each will immediately state his respect for his counterparts.

At the risk of being repetitive, not only are we competing for the attention of people who read books, but we are also competing against every other form of entertainment. 

You think the tweet above was harsh? My advice is remorselessly brutal. We are peeling back the thin veneer of civilization and revealing the true Conrad-esque dog-eat-doggery that is the business of telling people stories.

Or maybe I’m being over-dramatic again. Anyway, though; the point is that most people don’t read because they have other, easier entertainment options available. And there’s no way you can make reading a book easier than watching a movie.

Now we are starting to understand the true nature of writing. We may be intensely competitive among ourselves, when practicing our craft, but must present a united front to the outside world, in the face of the challenge from other, rival art forms.

I think of writers as a sort of order of monks. Like the Jedi or something. Being a writer, in an age of a million temptations, requires discipline and focus. We writers can rightfully take pride in choosing to devote ourselves to an art that requires saying “no” to doing something easier.

Your writer friends are your competition, yes. But they are also your comrades and your teachers and your readers.

A Video Chat — What We Like About Writing

Audrey, Berthold, and Mark take on a topic. To get away from the rules of writing and what can sometimes be too much focus on the negatives about writing, we decided to talk about what we like about writing. We spent a few minutes on that topic. The conversation eventually morphed into a conversation about how we write, primarily Audrey’s method. Take a look and let us know what you like about writing.

Side note: we found a theme song for our videos. Father John Misty’s I’m Writing a Novel. We used the opening lines of the song at the beginning of this video, but for some reason it didn’t take. So, here are the opening lines:

I ran down the road, pants down to my knees
Screaming “please come help me, that Canadian shaman gave a little too much to me!”
And I’m writing a novel because it’s never been done before

Another View on Writing

I’ve tried to get Trent Lewin to join this blog. There’s even a page all ready for him should he decide to leap in. Trent writes some of the most inventive fiction I’ve found in my time blogging and reading other writers, and he is currently traveling the publishing route for a novel he recently completed. I know he has thoughts and advice for other writers.

For instance, here’s what he posted earlier today. It’s a bit of a twist on our regular conversation around here about the “rules of writing.” Trent doesn’t talk directly about the rules. Instead, he talks in his brilliantly snarky way about misperceptions people have of writers. More specifically, great writers.

I want to take a moment to respond here to his identified misconceptions about writers.

  1. Writing What You Know. We’ve talked about this in our video chats and it appears Trent agrees. I can’t say strongly enough how frustrated I get when I hear somebody say that writers need to write what they know. Trent even uses one of the examples I’ve used — JRR Tolkien. That’s kind of an unfair example though. The whole point of fantasy is to make up worlds and characters. But … isn’t that what all fiction is, whether set in Middle Earth or Detroit. It’s made up, it’s fictional, it is the product of the writer’s imagination. Limiting writers to “what they know” would be monumentally boring, unimaginative and not worth the effort.
  2. Saving Ideas for the Mega-Hits. As Trent suggests, writers don’t coast here and there, and only pull the big guns out for the big story. At least not “great writers.” No, (and before I say this, understand I don’t think I’m a great writer) we try to hit it out of the park every single time we put words together. We want each story to be better than the last in a constant search for perfection. It’s why writing can be so difficult, so emotionally draining. We want each piece to stand on its own and reach to the heavens and, more importantly, reach you and make you feel something. Whether it is to laugh or to cry, to feel anger or joy.
  3. Writers and Social Media. It’s the trade-off between the writing life and the promotional efforts to find readers. Trent is right. Great writers write, they care about the craft far more than they do about what’s happening on Twitter. Sadly, as I continue to struggle with my writer’s block, I spend way too much time on social media. 😉
  4. Great writers don’t outline. Trent suggests this is a misconception about writers. And again, I’m not claiming that I’m a great writer, but I don’t outline, except for vaguely in my head. I think it’s entirely possible to be a great writer without outlining. In fact, I’m going to push back on this a bit — part of the creative process is in the discovery. An outline, particularly one that is too detailed or too rigid, can stifle creativity and cause a writer to miss the hidden gems that show up along the way.
  5. Writers Write Every Day. Again, Trent says this is a misconception. I agree. But it’s interesting how many established, published authors insist that writing every day is a must. As Trent says, most writers simply cannot do that. There is far too much life going on to be able to sit down and write daily. There was a time when I wrote almost every day. Back when I first started and I was incredibly productive. No matter what was going on, I found some space in each day to write and I was happy with that. A little progress here and there was a good thing. Now, not so much. Too many distractions (see social media), too many frustrations, and likely unrealistic expectations.
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

6. Writers All Have Degrees From Prestigious Writing Programs. If this were true, I should put my pad and paper (laptop) away and never started. Not only do I not have any such degree, I never took any English classes after high school. I hated the topic so much and hated writing so much back then that I didn’t take any English classes in college. Not a one. The last thing I wanted to do was have to read great literature and then disect the why and wherefore of the author’s product. The last thing I wanted to do was write. And the other thing about this misconception is this — there are many ways to write a story, many styles, genres, and story types. The sneaky feeling I have when I read things that cater to the MFA world is that people who go through those programs are forced into a particular style of writing. I subscribed to Glimmer Train for a few years at one point and eventually gave it up because I was tired of reading stories written in the same wandering, rambling, deep thought vein. So, no, writers don’t need those degrees. In fact, for purposes of creativity and different ways of storytelling, I think it’s better if they don’t.

7. Great Writers Don’t Rewrite Numerous Times. This is a misconception I struggle with. Yes, great writers likely rewrite numerous times and maybe that’s why I’ll never be a great writer (and I’m okay with that, by the way). I edit as I write for the most part and once I type The End, I’m more or less done with the story. I do some tinkering and typo fixes and make sure there aren’t any glaring holes or omissions or consistenty issues, but for the most part … I never rewrite a story once I type those last words.

8. Great writers regurgitate because every story has been told. This is one that drives me crazy. The “every story has been told” criticism. I remember when I completed my first novel hearing from a beta reader that they didn’t know if the book was marketable because it’s a story that has been told over and over again, and what about my version was special. This kind of thing pretty much drives me crazy. It ties in with some of these other issues. If every story has been told, why are we bothering with any of this. Wouldn’t every writer just put their pen down and go swimming or mountain-climbing? No, because every story hasn’t been told. I guarantee that nobody told Henry Thornton’s story before I wrote The Irrepairable Past, and I guarantee nobody has written the story of Lily, Sophie, and Peter until I wrote The Dime.

9. Adapting a Commercial Style. I absolutely agree with Trent on this one. Writers should write what they want to write, in the voice they want to write in, telling the stories they want to tell. And if they do that, their love of the craft and the story will shine through and bring attention to them. Many “great writers” were horribly unpopular in their day, only to be seen as the visionaries they are now. Write what you love, not necessarily what you know, but what you love.

10. Successful Writers Didn’t Get Rejected. Yes they did. The vast, vast majority of them did. It’s an inherent part of any creative endeavor. Rejection is just as much a part of writing as the words are. It’s unfortunate, but a reality.

So … what do you think? Do you have any other favorite misconceptions about writing? Do you disagree with Trent? Agree? Share your thoughts in comments.

Let’s Talk Description

Something I’ve worried about a lot with my writing is that I don’t include enough description. Of people. Of settings. Of all sorts of things. I recently re-read my first novel to get some ideas for some follow-up short stories and was surprised at how much description was in the book.

These days it seems like I don’t include much. I just want to tell the story. Leave the details to the imagination of the reader.

What got me thinking about writing a post about this was a realization I had for my recently completed novel. There are three main characters. The narrative is in first person and switches back and forth between those three characters — Lily, Sophie, and Pete. My realization? That I don’t think anywhere in the 80,000 words of this story do I describe what they look like.

Oh, there are little tidbits here and there. We know Sophie is in a wheel chair because she was paralized in an accident when she was five. But beyond that? I really don’t know. I don’t share the details of how they look Hair color. Body type. The size of their noses. Or the color of their eyes. They just are. Three people occupying space in this story that takes them through three years of their lives.

When it comes to setting, I think I use more description, but still it remains pretty minimal. Fireflies dancing in the yard. Ambulance lights flashing in the night. The rocky shore of the Great Sacandaga. Things like that. But the thing is, generally that minimal description fits within the flow of the story. Or at least I hope it does.

There are a couple of reasons I use minimal description. I go back to the Mendocino Coast Writers Conference I attended a few years ago (where the first two chapters of this novel were what I submitted for critique in the group sessions I participated in). One of the writers in that group kept criticizing other people’s works because they didn’t explain this, or describe that, or reveal something else. Each time she offered that criticism, I wanted to stand up and say, “that is what your imagination is for.” I don’t think good writing involves revealing every last detail or every single element of the characters and their story. A good story includes some mystery, some gaps that the reader fills in with his or her imagination.

In writing, I’m also informed by my own reading habits. I tend to skim over description. Particularly when it goes on for lines and lines and lines. That kind of description, to me, pulls the reader out of the story. When I read books that include that kind of description, I may skip chunks of the text until I see something that suggests the story is picking up again.

As I mention above, I think it important that writers try to include description within the flow of the story. Instead of stopping the story to tell us every last detail of how somebody looks or what is in a room, ask yourself, “what is the narrator seeing? what is the narrator feeling?” Answer those questions with something that fits within the flow of the story. The articles listed below have some good examples of both doing this and not doing it.

A few months ago, I participate in a writing prompt exercise with a group of other writers. One of the other writers wrote a scene with some of her characters walking along a forest and meadow near the ocean. She dropped in small descriptors within the flow of the story based on what the characters were seeing, what they were going through as they walked, rather than setting off the description of the area in a paragraph that broke up the flow of the scene. I think that’s how to go about description.

And don’t be afraid, never be afraid, of leaving things to the reader’s imagination. Yes, somebody will complain that there isn’t enough description. But if you include more, somebody else will complain that there is too much description. As with most of these concepts and “rules,” it really depends on the writer and the reader. Each of us is different. But be aware of the issue and try to find the sweet spot.

Now, I need to go back to that “completed” novel and ponder whether I included enough description. I think I did — it’s the story that is far more important than the description.

What do you think? Description? Yay or nay?

* * * * *

A couple of other views on the topic:

https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/common-writing-mistakes-much-description/

https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/common-writing-mistakes-much-description/

https://www.scribophile.com/blog/too-much-description-or-too-little

Writers Talking: a Lost Podcast

Back in 2019, writer Kevin Brennan and two other writers sat down together to talk about writing novels and getting them published. He recorded the conversation, intending to turn it into a podcast. Unfortunately, a power outage destroyed the recording.

Brennan says: “It sounded so good too. You’d have loved it. I had some classic jazz to open the show with. I even put a little reverb on the recording so it sounded like we were in a small concert venue or a high-ceilinged coffeehouse. I could have thrown in ambient coffeehouse sounds to enhance the mood, but the thing was gone before I got the chance.”

But he had made a transcript, so the text of the conversation was preserved. Brennan published it under the title Close to Perfect: three writers talk about the craft and business of fiction in the 21st century.

And now, the book is available as a free download on Kevin’s blog. I recommend this book to any fiction writer, or to readers who wonder how it’s done.

Pep Talk #3: Have Faith in Your Writing

Remember the first time you read something you had written and thought, “This is a great piece of writing! And I wrote it!” I hope you savoured that moment and still think of it fondly. Because it didn’t last, did it?

Part of becoming a writer is experiencing doubt in your abilities. There are multiple opportunities for this. The critique partner who shreds your offering for that meeting. The agent or publisher who responds with “Sorry, not for us.” The readers of your published book who post one-star condemnations or two-star lukewarm dismissals. And perhaps worst of all, your own reactions the day after what you thought was a productive writing session–“Did I write this crap?”

If you want to get your writing into the public arena, to be read by people who don’t know you except as the writer of your words, you must have faith in it. Not blind faith, but faith that comes from knowing you’ve done the work to the best of your abilities.

That faith will be tested. You work through your list of agents and publishers, and send out queries that precisely match each one’s requirements, and receive only rejections, or no response at all, So you work over those first ten pages again, trying to figure out how to fix them.

You submit the improved query to a different set of agents/publishers, with the same result. Then you wonder if you might have had better luck with the first set of queries if you had sent the improved version. But you’ll never know, because you can’t submit a work more than once to the same agent/publisher. Each attempt is a fresh crapshoot.

At this point, you conclude you’re a lousy writer who has no business troubling busy agents and overworked acquisitions editors. After all, their inboxes are overflowing with the offerings of better writers than you. Because all writers are better than you.

This is where you need faith in your writing.

After wallowing in self-pity for days or weeks, you read over your manuscript again, and despite everything, you conclude it’s not worthless. Maybe a critique partner or beta reader agrees. So you decide to publish it yourself.

This process can raise another set of doubts. Is that (much-rejected) work really worthy of publication? Now you read it with the eye of an editor, remembering stuff from books on How to Write and blog posts on How Not to Write. Does your plot follow the three-act structure? Are your characters realistic? Is there enough tension and conflict? Is the narrative voice engaging? Have you used the correct point of view? How about those dialogue tags? Are the stakes high enough to keep readers interested? What about all those filter words and that mushy middle? There are a thousand things that can be wrong with your novel, and probably are.

It’s time for another meeting with yourself and your manuscript. Remind yourself of these facts:

  • Many of those “rules” are just guidelines
  • There is no way everyone will like your book
  • There is no way no one will like your book
  • Your book will never be perfect

Nothing worthwhile can be done without some element of risk. If you have done your due diligence as a writer, you arrive at a point where you take the next step or quit, whether it’s sending our more queries, entering that contest, or publishing. Or writing the next book.

A Further Point about Advertising

In one of our recent video chats, I said that indie authors should not pay for advertising. Susan disagreed with me, and cited her own positive experience with advertising.

So, let me correct myself: I wouldn’t say that indie authors should never pay for advertising. If you have the funds and the inclination, by all means, pay for advertising. As Susan explains, it absolutely can work.

I’m writing this for a specific group of authors: those who don’t really want to advertise, but feel like they ought to. I’m not saying you absolutely shouldn’t; I’m just giving you permission not to.

Advertising is key in markets where there are a few big firms that are competing against each other. (The technical word for this is “oligopoly.”) Coke vs. Pepsi, Sony vs. Microsoft… big companies that compete with branding need advertising.

We in the indie book biz are not big companies. Advertising is important in markets where there are a few sellers and a bunch of buyers. I don’t think anyone can claim that describes the indie book market.

Obviously, getting readers is important. But what’s the best way to do that? I’m not convinced it’s advertising. I’ve had a lot more success finding readers from people who read my blog than I have from advertising. In general, social media has proven to be a far better way of reaching readers than advertising has.

And there’s another issue with advertising books: the most successful ads will tend to be for books that have the most eye-catching covers. And while many indie authors are capable of writing better books than the big publishers sell, they are not always able to afford the same level of cover design. So, unless you happen to also be an excellent designer yourself, or know someone who is, the deck is always going to be stacked against you in advertising your book.

Again, if you have the funds and feel confident that advertising is something that will help sell your books, then you absolutely should do it. I’m just saying that if you’re hesitant, or if you don’t have a lot to spend on it, don’t feel like you have to.

A New Journey, Part II

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my efforts to find an agent, to go the traditional route with my latest completed novel. At the time, I was in the process of completing a spreadsheet with agents I was interested in querying.

Following that post and with a burst of energy and enthusiasm, I sent out a handful of queries. A week later, I sent out another handful of queries. And then I lost that energy and enthusiasm.

One of the seeming articles of faith in the publishing world is that publishers and agencies shut down during the holiday season. Most authors I see comment on this process seem to believe that sending queries to agents between Thanksgiving and the New Year is a pointless effort. Better to just wait a few weeks before giving it a try. That’s one of the reasons I took a break from querying.

Yesterday, I went back to it, sending out another handful. As of now, I’ve sent out 16 queries and received 3 rejections. I’m committed to sending out another 25-30 queries in the next week or two. That will be it. If nothing comes of those queries, I’ll go back to self-publishing. Although I may try some direct queries to publishers who accept unagented submissions.

In the meantime, I wanted to provide you with some additional resources if you are pondering the traditional publishing route.

First, there is a wonderful website called Writer Beware, operated by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. The website has a wealth of information about agents, publishers, self-publishing, vanity presses, and other issues related to the publishing world. It also has a blog that regularly provides updates about agent and publishing scams out there. Guess what? There are a lot. I highly encourage any writer looking to publish to check this website out.

Second, there is Query Shark, a website devoted to helping writers improve the queries they are submitting to agents and publishers. The hosts of this site post queries they’ve received for review and then critique it. Sometimes brutally. But you can learn a lot about how to craft a query letter from reading their posts and critiques. Or better yet, submit your query letter to them and experience it directly. (I’m not sure how active this blog is. The last post was from last June, but even without any new posts, there are 335 posts critiquing 335 different query letters.)

An Interesting Idea

When I (Mark) approached the others with the idea for this blog, I made sure of one caveat. We would not use this site to promote our own writing/publishing efforts. Other than some references to those efforts in our bios, I hope to stick to that principle.

However, I want to discuss a collection of short stories I’m reading, not to promote the book itself, but to promote the idea behind it.

Audrey Driscoll recently published Tales From the Annexe, a collection of short stories, half of which derive from her Herbert West series of novels and half of which come from somewhere else.

I’m still in the first half, the ones that come out of her Herbert West work, and I think it’s a fascinating idea. To write short stories that flesh out some of the characters and incidents from her novels. In these stories, we learn more about the characters and the tales also reveal a darker, grittier side of things.

With some of my completed fictional work, I’ve occasionally thought of going further, but I typically resist that impulse. When I’m done with the story, I want to be done with it. I want to find new characters and a new tale to tell. After reading the first few of Audrey’s stories, I’m thinking I may go back to some of my older stories and see if there are side tracks I can take some of the characters down.

I made a commitment to myself for 2021. I want to write a short story each month this year, to try to get back into the habit of short story writing. Something I don’t do much of anymore. This may be the way to open the door to those stories.

I know that there are writers out there who do a lot of prep work for their stories, including character sketches and bios for their characters, outlines and all sorts of other things. Does anybody else do what Audrey has done with Tales From The Annexe — write stand alone short stories based on the characters and settings of your longer pieces? If not, and you’re struggling like I am, maybe this is a way to re-launch.

More on Writing Rules

In our first video chat, Berthold and Mark discussed “writing rules” and whether writers should follow the rules that filter through the writing community.

Recently, we heard of a couple more rules worth covering. The first was discussed on a Facebook group for literary fiction writers. A member of the group posted a question about flashbacks, having been told by somebody that she should not use flashbacks. Why? Because in the opinion of the “rule-setter,” flashbacks are poor writing and they break up the story.

Which is kind of interesting. Theoretically at least, almost all fiction is one entire flashback since most fiction these days is told in past tense. Practically speaking though, and taking that somewhat snarky response out of the equation, I can’t think of any story that doesn’t have some element of flashbacks in them.

Flashbacks are a way to provide context, to build a history for characters, to fill in gaps that bring the story forward. I (Mark) think of some of the stories I’ve written and many of them have flashbacks. Some are literally filled with flashbacks. One novel I wrote had chapters that alternated between flashbacks and the current story. The novella I published last year is about 80% flashback. The first chapter and last chapter are “now” and everything in between are a flashback to explain how the narrator got to where he was. The Dime, my most recently completed novel is also filled with flashbacks to provide for character and story development.

I’m not necessarily saying that anything I did in either of those stories was right or correct or a model of how writers should write. But just like every “rule” you hear about, take this one with a grain of salt. Think about some of your favorite pieces of fiction, books you read that blew your mind, and I imagine you’ll find plenty of flashbacks in those works. The keys, I believe, are that the flashbacks do not take away from the story, that they add depth to the story, and that they are clearly set off so that the reader knows it is a flashback. (This was one of the negative comments I heard about flashbacks — it isn’t always clear something is a flashback, which adds confusion for the reader.)

Meanwhile, Berthold heard another rule … never, ever use prologues. The funny thing about this is that I just shared a partially completed novel I’ve been working on and pondering for years. I wanted to see what he thought about it before I commit more energy to the project. It has what I think of as a prologue.

But again, think about great fiction you’ve read. I can imagine that you’ll find prologues and epilogues, and all manner of other things in those works. Just like flashbacks may be necessary to provide context and character development, a prologue can set the table for the story to follow. There are times when a prologue makes sense. A “rule” that one should never, ever use a prologue is just nonsense.

And remember that for any rule you hear. Never is a pretty harsh concept when it comes to writing. If it works for your story — a flashback here and there, a prologue — do it. Trust your instincts that you know how you want to tell your story. And then follow the one and only rule there should be — write a good story.

* * * * *

Now that I’ve said that, I wanted to share a recent experience I had. A friend asked me to read a manuscript she had written. I always jump at the chance to do this,, to help other writers, so I agreed. The story had a good mix of characters, a good storyline, and a great sense of humor embedded in it. But there were aspects that made it difficult to read. Switching between first and third person frequently. Switching between past and present person just as frequently. Sometimes these switches occurred within the same paragraph.

While I don’t believe in all of these rules we are told to follow as writers, and I believe the only rule is to write a good story, I think there is a corollary to that rule — don’t make it too difficult for the reader to read and follow the story. And that’s how I felt after reading this manuscript. A good story was confused by a couple of problems in the storytelling. Problems that could be easily fixed.

Given my position on “the rules,” I felt odd providing this feedback to the other writer. But I thought it necessary. In other words, everything I say here should be taken with a grain of salt and adapted to the story you are working on.