Managing Critique

I’m a firm believer in the benefits of critique—regardless of what shape they take.

Since getting serious about writing, I’ve experienced a wide range of critiquing styles and formats:

Reading Work Aloud – On one end of the spectrum, there’s things like open mic nights where tepid applause or catcalls tells you how well you did. I’ve done this once, and although I didn’t crash and burn, I don’t want to repeat the experience. On the other end, I’ve been in groups where you read a predetermined number of pages aloud and then discuss them. Great for problem scenes or seeing if your story or chapter opener hooks readers.

Exchanging Work – I’ve done where an agreed upon number of pages (up to 10 pages, up to 1 chapter, first 50 etc.) are exchanged in advanced and then discussed in small groups. Great for fostering local connections and looking at stories more in-depth. I’ve also exchanged full and partial manuscripts with critique partners and other trusted readers, marking up the text and making micro and macro level comments. It’s a lot of work but it allows you to evaluate a work as a whole, and as we all know, good readers are priceless.

Contests – There’s a wide variety of these for both short and long form work. Things like Miss Snark’s First Victim provide a forum for novel openers to see if readers are hooked. Query contests also abound on blogs. Plus there are a wide variety of contests sponsored through local and national writing organizations. Contests can provide you with feedback if you are in a place were you don’t have a trusted reader in your corner, but beware contest fees as not all contests are created equal.

Then there’s writing workshops like Taos Toolbox, where a lot of feedback comes your way all at once.

And that can be overwhelming. Strike that. It is overwhelming.

So how do you incorporate it all?

Well, when I have the opportunity to collect feedback from a variety of sources all at once, I like to focus on macro-level issues first.

These are general vibes my CPs and trusted readers get from my story or, in the case of the critiques from Taos, what stands out most in my mind as people went around the table and told me what was wrong with my stories.

Based on those things, I do a revision pass. That way I’m proactively working through what I perceive as problems with my story.

Only after I’ve done my initial revisions do I go back through the more detailed individual crits. That way I find I’m less reactive to individual comments that can often lead to changes in my story that serve the critiquer, not necessarily the manuscript as a whole.

Granted this process won’t work for every project, but I like to use this model whenever I can. Besides, by tackling the “big” issues first, because usually by the time you get to the smaller nits, many of them have already been fixed or eliminated.

There’s also some caveats to critiquing more generally.

As Kristine Kathryn Rusch pointed out in her post Perfection:

Critiquers get the manuscript for free and they’re asked to criticize it. Of course, they will find something wrong with it. In that circumstance, we all will.

So remember, just because someone says there is a problem with your story, figure out if it’s because they’ve been asked to find a problem or if there really is something wrong.

It’s also worth noting that not all critiquing advice is equal. Some people may not understand your vision for your story or be unable to divorce themselves from what they would do in your stead.

Fellow Toolboxer Catherine Scaff-Stump in Technique versus Vision explains:

If you ask me to give you feedback on a story, my job is to talk to you about your technique, but it is not to suggest you move in a different direction. I am not going to ask you to compromise your vision. You know what you want to do.

Worse, why would I pass judgment on your vision? I can say, "Your piece isn't very good." Unpacked, that should mean that you are vague, or your characters are underdeveloped. There should be things I can do to help you with technique. But I shouldn't be thinking that your piece isn't very good because I don't like it. Because it's not my thing. Because it's not my sub-genre. That's besides the point. I should be focusing on your technique, not telling you to like what I like.

Another great resource for figuring out how to incorporate feedback comes from How to Tackle Critique Notes from Writer Unboxed.

What other tips and tricks have you learned from your own critique experiences?

Happy writing!

Contest for The Memory Eater Anthology

I wanted to let you know that there's a contest going on right now to promote The Memory Eater Anthology I'm apart of.

There's a number of great prizes available to folks who help promote the contest via social media outlets, and I will also be offering first chapter critiques to the first five people who donate to the kickstarter fund.



We're little over 75% funded and need 1k more in just 9 days, so please spread the word. And if you are interested in all things speculative, consider pre-ordering the anthology.

 Memory Eater Links:

• Kickstarter page for the anthology  
• A four-story sampler, including a peek at my story "Souvenirs from Another Life"  
• My interview with Matthew Hance, editor of the project  
• Contest for the Memory Eater 

 And remember, if you are interested in a crit from me, the first five people who email me (thebluestockingblog AT gmail DOT com) their Kickstarter acknowledgement get a first chapter critique.

Thank you all for your support!

Speculative Fiction Reading Challenge 2011

Magemanda from the blog Floor to Ceiling Books is spearheading a Speculative Fiction Reading Challenge, where participants read and review at least 12 speculative fiction books over the course of 2011. To learn more about the challenge, go here. I first heard about the challenge from follower KB Lawrence *waves*.


I have a bunch of spec fic books on my Christmas list and some still hanging out in my TBR pile like:

• Margaret Atwood’s Oryk and Crake
• Scott Westerfield’s The Uglies (and The Pretties, The Specials, and The Extras)
• M.T. Anderson’s Feed
• Neil Gaiman’s American Gods
• Geoff Ryman’s Air, or Have Not Have
• Robert Charles Wilson’s Spin
• China Miéville’s The City and the City

If anyone has any female spec fic writers (besides Atwood and LeGuin) they can recommend, please do so in the comments.

Want to join in but not sure where to get started? Check out iO9’s 10 Recent Science Fiction Novels Which Make Great Gifts.

Happy reading!

Read It Loud, Read It Proud

Last Wednesday night, I did something crazy.

Ok, well, maybe not so crazy, but crazy for me. I read at an open mic event for stories that were three minutes or less.

This was nothing like the readings I do at meetings for my prompt-based writing group. There everyone reads what they wrote in the time allotted for the prompts in a warm, fuzzy, high-fiving atmosphere.

The open mic was different. There was a microphone for one thing. And a recorder. And a timer. Scores of plastic folding chairs. And the oddest assortment of people – young, old, handicapped, MFA students, creative type townies… Oh, and me.

People were supportive of one another, but the stench of competition was in the air as well. You see, after everyone reads, attendees vote for their favorites. The recordings for the top three stories would then be archived online for all time’s sake. And the writers were hungry to share, to read, and, most importantly, to win.

I was hungry too, but in a different way. The open mic is a monthly thing, and I had been wanting to go since the start of the summer. However, real life conspired against me (buying a house, moving, houseguests, general disarray). Finally (finally!) the stars aligned and I was able to attend this month’s meeting.

My goals were only to read my story in three minutes or less and not goof up. Both of which I achieved. This month's winners haven't been announced yet, but that's ok. I'm just happy I went. I’m pretty sure I read at a reasonable pace and paused at the appropriate places. It was nerve-wracking and exhilarating all at once. I’m grateful it’s over, but I’m also glad I did it. And I’m positive if I had not been used to reading my work at writing group, my open mic attempt would be an epic fail.

Coincidentally, a recent post on the Guide to Literary Agents blog talked about public readings. As the author says:

"Each time I read, I explore my own text, emphasize words differently and take chances on intonation and pacing. I’ve absorbed silence and learned to pause when the belly laughs were so loud and long, even I had to chuckle at my own writing.”

This kind of immersion is so helpful in evaluating your own work, which must be why so many writers advocate reading your stuff aloud when you are revising.

I’m not sure I’ll be going to the open mic next month. Despite the obvious benefits, the whole process can be a bit stressful. But if I were to go, I am already thinking about what I would read. Theoretically, of course :)

Feedback Frenzy

I’m always vexed to learn I’m not perfect.

Yesterday was no different when I received my feedback on my entry for the Golden Rose contest. I already knew I wasn’t a finalist but that was ok since I’d be getting back critiques from three different judges (two published, one unpubbed). I chose to enter this contest for that very reason because there’s no one who writes romance let alone historical romance in my writing groups. So with this contest, I would finally be getting critiques from my so-called peers.

Overall my scores were pretty good, confirming my gut feeling that I’m close and getting closer everyday. But where one judge liked my secondary characters, another thought they were two-dimensional. Where one liked my clean prose but thought I had no style, the other thought my style effectively conveyed mood and tone. One thought my storyline tried and true, another compelling. Hmm…

But two things the three judges had more or less in consensus:

•  I’m still doing more telling than showing in a few instances
• After an opening scene chock full of external conflict, internal conflict takes over and affects the overall pacing.

No bueno. But instead of a “I’m just not that into your book,” this time I have actionable advice I can use on another revision. All for 50 bucks. I’ll take it.

One thing I found interesting about this whole process was the unpublished judge was harsher than the two published judges. Resulting in a difference of about 10 points. Maybe she didn’t get the story; maybe she’s still a bit green when it comes to craft and critique. But I have to wonder if we unpublished masses are harder on each other because there’s so much competition out there these days. Manuscripts must be perfect like never before for writers to break into the market. A sobering thought.

From the Revision Trenches

(or How to Make Layering Work for You)

I’m back at work revising my historical romance novel. Again.

I let it sit most of the spring and summer. During that time I had a request from an editor (who I still hope to hear back from some day) and had rather encouraging rejections from the two agents I’ve queried so far.

I also entered the first couple of chapters into a historical fiction and a historical romance contest – not for fame and glory but for the guaranteed feedback that came with the entrance fee. The historical romance contest is still pending (fingers crossed!) and the historical fiction contest announced the winners earlier this month. I didn’t place, but I did get my critique back – full of good’s and very good’s for all aspects evaluated (POV, character development, dialogue, historical accuracy, grammar, etc.).

While that made me feel all warm and fuzzy, the person who evaluated my work did not give me any suggestions on how to improve, which little-naive-me was counting on. So I’m left with a glowing critique, no accolades, and no where to go. I’m hoping my feedback from the other contest will be a bit more enlightening so I will be able strengthen my MS even more in time for the Golden Heart.

In preparation, I’m going through the MS chapter by chapter. Tinkering, tightening, and fixing the little typos that (STILL!) keep cropping up. I’m also focused on heightening tension and emotion throughout the story. My scene intros and outros are pretty strong already – provocative breaks that should induce page turning and openings that immediately ground the reader in POV and place.

So now, I’m just need to make sure the scenes, from start to finish, sing. Easy, right?

I’ve discovered during this round of revisions that I have a tendency to understate things. When it comes to the romance genre, this isn’t a good strategy. You want the reader to experience every emotional high and low. They should be put through an emotional wringer over the course of the story so the ending provides the closure they’re craving. That’s not possible if you are always downplaying actions and reactions like me.

So throughout my MS, I’m looking for places where I haven't capitalized on the potential the story offers. Then I revise it, primarily using a technique called layering.When you layer, you are forced to look at what you have already written and see what is missing. Once you have your answer – whether you need more dialogue, insight into your character’s thoughts and so on – you have to recast the scene to incorporate the missing pieces. This iterative process often results in stronger scenes that operate on multiple levels – a win every time.

 Photo by Pink Sherbet Photography

Here's a section from my novel. Alex, the hero, grabs the heroine and backs her into the wall to confront her. Her response: "At least this time you did not hurt my injury," like he did earlier when his temper got the better of him and he grabbed her injured shoulder.

Example 1

Alex felt a brief stab of guilt at that. “A terrible accident, my lady. You already have my apologies.” He noted the girl’s disappointment when he did not lessen his hold on her and leaned closer into her face. “You know I mean you no harm. Why can you not trust me? With all of your secrets?”

Reads ok. We get a sense of Alex's remorse and that the girl is goading him a bit to get him to back down, but he doesn't. But I wanted to make it a bit stronger, so I layered in a bit more of what Alex is thinking during the scene:

Example 2

Alex felt a brief stab of guilt at that, but he pushed it aside. “A terrible accident, my lady. You already have my apologies.” The girl frowned when he did not lessen his hold on her. So she would play games with him? He swallowed the blind anger that reared up inside him once more. He leaned into her face, his eyes holding hers. “You know I mean you no harm. Why can you not trust me? With all of your secrets?”

IMHO, this scene is now much stronger with Alex's internal thoughts leading the reader through the confrontation. Not a whole lot was added, just a line or two and some general tinkering, but the dynamics are clearer and the tension is heightened.

I’m not surprised I have to spend so much time on this, as I tend to write spare the first time around and need to bulk up in later passes. When I finish a draft, I have action and dialogue covered, but that’s about it. Then I need to layer in movement, setting details, description grounded in the senses, and emotion. It’s just how I tend to write (which you can read more about in Anatomy of a Story). My problem now is pushing myself to take sections that work well already and make them awesome.

I have to keep reminding myself not to settle for good enough.

I encourage you to read The Art of Layering, a fabulous overview by romance author Renee Ryan, for more examples and tips to apply layering techniques to your own work. I stumbled upon Ryan’s article thanks to a post on Romance Writer’s Revenge.

What are your tips and tricks when it comes to revision time?

Submissions Blitz

If you told me six months ago I’d be in the midst of a submissions blitz, I would have laughed. But I’m not laughing now. Instead, I’m just trying to keep all my balls in the air while not losing my momentum.

In the past three days I’ve sent off:

• Two microfiction entries for my local alt weekly’s annual flash fiction contest
• A SciFi short story to a bona fide literary venue
• The first 50 pages of my historical romance for the Golden Rose contest

And just last month, I sent out a query to two agents and another short story.

So what gives? I’ve been doing more polishing and submitting than actual writing, and it’s a strange feeling. But, here’s what I’ve learned so far.

Apologies in advance for the epicness of this post, but I found it helpful for me to get all this stuff down.

Know when your work is ready.

This is so hard. So hard. And I still wonder every time I send something out if I’m deluding myself. Even though I know I’ve revised my work for hours, shared it with others, and have been actively working to improve my craft, I still doubt.

For a long time, that doubt was paralyzing. But I’ve made some head way and had enough small victories here and there to assure me that I’m not crazy for wanting to write and ultimately see my work published. So although I’m ready (and this blog is a testament to that), it’s harder for me to evaluate my different stories and novel-length projects to determine their readiness.

For some projects -- like the SciFi short story and the literary short I’ve submitted – I felt really good about them from inception to completion. Members of my critique groups responded to them positively. They’ve been pretty positive about most of my work, but there was something more encouraging, perhaps more genuine, about their reactions to these particular pieces. So I went with that feeling, found appropriate venues for the stories, and sent them off before I lost my nerve.

With my historical romance novel, I’ve been a bit more cautious about sending it off into the world (and I’ve addressed this before). Because it’s a much bigger project than a short story or piece of flash fiction, I figure I need to be a bit more strategic in how I handle it. A stalling tactic, a self-defense mechanism, perhaps, but I still think it’s reasonable to want to tread carefully with a work of this magnitude. Hence the contests, the constant revisions, and the postponement of a massive query flurry. But I’m getting closer. I just received my critique sheet back from one of the contests I entered and was encouraged by the evaluation. I'm getting there, slowly but surely.

And then there are stories that are as good as they’re gonna get before the deadline. Like my microfiction entries for the local alt weekly contest. I participated last year and found it to be a challenging exercise at a time when I was just buckling down with this whole writing seriously thing. I knew I wanted to enter this year, and of course the timing of my big move hampered that a bit. But I made the deadline and was satisfied with my work. The experience also gave me the chance to look over my entry from last year, and I felt there was a marked improvement in my writing since. So regardless of the outcome for this particular contest, I already feel validated.

The more you submit, the easier it gets.

Submitting is scary. Working up the nerve to get your stuff out there can take a while. And we as writers are guilty of filling up the blogosphere with all our self-doubts and the oft-repeated publishing myths of evil agents and frustrated editors who like nothing more than to crush our dreams.

Knowing the ins and outs of submission requirements is essential. But I’ve also made enough mistakes to know that it won’t be the end of the world if something goes wrong. Some venues are more forgiving than others. That’s the way of things. I recently had an agent contact me to let me know my attachment didn’t come through. I was thrilled she took the time to let me resend. Given all the mythology around editors and agents, I had no reason to expect this second chance. But I took it and moved on.

Sending out your work does get easier over time. I know that just in the short time I’ve been sending out my work, my process has become a little more formalized after each submission. My mental submission checklist grows longer each time I click send. The thought of a query no longer sends me running for the hills. I think it’s really owning the professional part of writing for publication that has done it for me. I want to be a professional writer; hence, the need for professionalism in all things. I am now better able to separate myself from my work by embracing the professional – not the personal – aspects of writing when submitting.

And I’ve had help getting past the me in my writing. Blogging, writing groups, open-mics… all these activities have helped me to not only practice writing, but have also helped me get used to getting my work out there. Putting myself on the line. I’ve learned about accountability and ways to settle my nerves. And the more you do it, the less terrifying it becomes.

Relish that period of time between clicking send and getting a rejection response.

It’s heady. Sending your writing off into the world. Once you’re sure you’ve attached the right file or included the proper salutation, that is. Then you’re full of optimism that maybe, just maybe, something good will come out of all this. After all, as of this moment, you work hasn’t been rejected yet. Anything is possible.

Sure it’s possible that the pieces I’ve sent out in the last few weeks can be accepted for publication or selected as Numero Uno in a contest. And until I get rejected, there’s no reason to think otherwise. Why? Because I need that positive thinking to propel me into a new project or to revisit a previously stalled WIP. I can’t be wallowing in self-doubt if I expect to be productive. It’s done. My work is out there. And all I can do is pick up the pen and move on.

The fallout will come. The odds tell me that much. Despite all that I’ve learned about craft, how attentive I’ve been to my work, I may get a form rejection tomorrow, a week from now, next month, who knows… but I’m just getting closer to yes, right?

Have a contingency plan.

With the exception of the microfiction, I know where I’m sending my different stories next if and when those pieces are rejected. I have a contingency plan for each one. I have to. I care too much about these stories to let them languish if they are not accepted on the first try.

There’s always another venue. Aim high, yes. I am certainly doing that. Targeting the best agents instead of defaulting to an e-publisher. The literary venue with the pro-rates instead of the online ‘zine run by frustrated MFA rejects. But what if you’re left with rejection after rejection, even after scraping the bottom of the barrel of possible outlets? That is what I fear the most.

I’m at the point with many of my stories where I’m just not sure what more I could be doing with them. I’ve polished them on my own, shared them with my critique group, entered contests, revised some more, and then what? The only way to move forward is to submit your stuff and see what happens. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once, make no mistake. But oh-so-necessary as well.

Rejections are fuzzy. A rejection could mean your work didn’t fit the venue. Or it just might mean your work sucks. And until you have a decent enough sample of rejections, it’s difficult to know whether you need to work harder at craft or just work harder at finding the right fit for your story. I won’t know where I’m at until I get some feedback, even the form rejection kind. But I like to think I’m ready for it.

The balls are in the air. Let’s see where they land.

Tunnel Vision

Every so often I’ll get so involved in a project, everything else falls by the wayside. This usually happens when I’m in the midst of a first draft. I’m so excited to see my ideas come to fruition, that’s all I can think about. As if I must purge myself of every idea, image, or word before I can resume my regularly scheduled programming.

I feel like I’m in one of these states right now. There’s just one small problem – I’m not writing anything.

Well, that’s a bit of a white lie. I wrote this post, didn’t I? I responded to two prompts in writing group last night and I spent this morning crafting feedback for my critique group. So I am writing. I’m just not working on any of my WIPs. At least not directly.

I’m not suffering from writer’s block. Nor am I procrastinating. Instead, I find myself in a state of mental preparation where I’m gathering information, assessing my work, and thinking everything over in extreme detail. And all of this is in anticipation of submitting my entry into the Golden Rose contest – the first 50 pages of my historical romance novel.

The feedback from my first and only rejection for this project is also rolling around in the back of my mind. In fact, ever since I roughed out a plan of action in my last post, that’s all I’ve been able to think about. Last week I was all about exorcizing the demons out of my SF novel. But once I started thinking about my historical romance novel - that I'm-so-close-I-can-taste-it feeling - that was the beginning of the end.

This tunnel vision has led to me reading Jessica Page Morrell’s Between the Lines while watching World Cup matches on ABC this weekend. Next on the list are a handful of romances in my time period that I’ve already read once through already. When I’m not reading, I find myself replaying scenes from my novel in my head like reruns on TV as I search for ways to strengthen, deepen, and intensify each moment. (For those of you interested, there’s a post at Diary of a Virgin Novelist that discusses how this can be a great way to review your work.)

I also worry that I’m so enamored with finishing my novel, I’m settling for less than perfect prose – writing that’s competent but still a bit complacent. I certainly don’t want that. So I’ll revise again, armed with Browne and King’s Self-Editing for Fiction Writers as the final step before I submit.

Jody Hedlund blogged about how she hired an editor to revise her already-under-contract book. This seems to be an extreme measure, but it comes from a good place: the desire to write the best book possible. And that’s where I’m at now. I want to do my very best. I want to succeed.

But that also means coping with tunnel vision for the next few weeks while I revise my book to the best of my ability (again). But the in-depth thinking, while distracting, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s preparing me for tacking revisions – revisions I’m still getting comfortable with making.

How do you psych yourself up for doing what’s necessary for your WIP?

Back to the Drawing Board

 (This is normal, right?)

I received a lot of support after my post “Acknowledging My Fears of Submission.” Many commenters were very familiar with the fear of sending your work off to agentland. But, overwhelmingly, they encouraged me to push through that fear and get over my reluctance. I would be better for it. I would learn. And eventually I would succeed. In theory.

So I did. Well, I tried. And it worked. Umm, maybe?

I sent out a query. Two, actually. To two agents actively seeking romance projects. One had just opened her inbox to queries after a lengthy hiatus and the other was doing a big push for romance submissions. I couldn’t ignore either opportunity, even though the timing wasn’t ideal. But when is it ever? So carpe diem and all that. The one agent had been recommended to me by awesome Editor X, and the other was a part of a highly respected agency. How could I not query? So I clicked ‘Send.’ Twice. Both queries sent within a week of each other.

Small Victory #1 – Bluestocking is ready to play with the big girls.

While I’m still waiting to hear one way or another from the one agent, the other requested pages right away. Whoa.

Small Victory #2 – Bluestocking’s query doesn’t suck.

So I sent off the requested partial and allowed myself a few hours of unadulterated delusions of grandeur (a bad habit of mine after small victories). And then, just before bed that night, it happened. The inevitable rejection.

BUT, it wasn’t a ‘Thanks, but no thanks’ form rejection. It was personalized; it was tailored – just for me. And even though some parts stung (a lot), it was clear from the agent’s note that some aspects of the novel worked.

Small Victory #3 – Bluestocking’s work is strong enough to merit a personalized rejection.

I read Rachelle Gardner’s post on “Dealing with Contradictory Feedback” earlier this week, which talked about how to weigh different types of feedback. Juliette Wade has also tackled this issue in the past. I know I can’t just brush off the rejection and turn a blind eye to the comments I received. This agent is a professional who evaluates stories on a daily basis. But I don’t want to risk making changes that are reactionary and not well thought out or serve only the person who’s already passed on the project. Plus I know how subjective writing can be. Maybe some other agent will like the story as it stands. I can hope.

But I think what I’m struggling with the most is that I just don’t have enough information right now to decide the best way to proceed. I need a bigger sample, and I don't mean my critique group. I need to earn a few more rejections to see if this particular agent’s response is on target with others. If the same issues with my work keep cropping up, that would certainly signal the need for a major overhaul. But at this moment, I just don’t know.

So where does this leave me? I know I’ll be getting a critique back on the novel thanks to a contest I entered back in early May. Editor X is still out there with my full somewhere in her reading queue. And then there’s that other agent with my query sitting in her inbox. Hopefully the accumulation of responses from these various sources will suggest a course of action I should take with my work.

And I’m going to stack the deck in my favor too. I recently found out about the Golden Rose, a contest put on by the Rose City Romance Writers out of Portland, Oregon, and plan to enter my first 50 pages. The nice thing about this contest is that the scoring sheets are returned in time for me to tweak my entry for the RWA’s Golden Heart, which I’ve been thinking about entering as well.

I’m also going to take a hard look at my novel and dig out some of my craft books I thought I was done with (for this particular project), and see what I can do to strengthen my work. 

Small Victory #4 – Bluestocking is not going to give up.

I know I have a lot to be thankful for – confirmation my query can capture interest, professional and pointed feedback, and a completed MS I’m still proud of. But even with all these small victories under my belt, I feel like I’m going back the drawing board.

I just have to remember how far I’ve come since this time last year. Onward!

Starting the Month Off Right

I’m a bit of a nerd, in that I love setting up a new worksheet in my excel file where I track my word counts for every month. There’s nothing like looking over your progress for the last few months to get inspired. June is a tabula rasa – 30 days where I can write anything. The potential is there, and all I have to do is fill in the blanks.

Easier said than done. This I know.

I first started tracking my word counts during my attempt to participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) last November even though I didn’t make it. I only logged about 22k, but at the time, that was a personal best for me. In the months since then, I’ve averaged between 10-15k per month, with nearly 29k in March (most of which was attributed to the first draft of one of my SF WIPs). And I couldn’t be happier.

I try not to beat myself up if I can’t eke out some time to write every day. After all, chores don't do themselves, I still read widely, and sometimes I just need to let myself think and reflect before I can put pen to paper or start typing away and the keyboard. Plus I spend just as much time if not more revising in addition to generating new content, and I haven’t worked out a good way to account my time spent editing. Sometimes I’m adding words, but more often than not I’m cutting or condensing. So I just set a monthly goal, usually 10 or 12k and track my progress without stressing over the details. Usually just seeing how my daily word counts eat away at that target is incentive enough to keep going. And since I like to emphasize quality over quantity, I don’t get upset if I don’t reach my target, so long as I am happy with the work I produced over the course of the month. Because as we all know, one strong sentence can matter more than reams of drivel.

Now that it’s June 1st, I’m ready to reset my target and start the process all over again. I’m optimistic of course, but then again I always am when I'm on the threshold of a new beginning. If you have any writing rituals you like to do at the beginning of each month, please share.

***

In other news, two of my tweets were featured on Nicole Humphrey Cook’s post Favorite Tweets For Writers This Week (May 24 to May 30, 2010), and I was thrilled to be included alongside other heavy hitters in the writing Twitterverse.

I also won a copy of Leah Stewart’s Husband and Wife after commenting on the interview with Stewart hosted at Diary of a Virgin Novelist, which you should definitely check out along with another interview with Allison Winn Scotch.

Finally, I’ve been tinkering a bit with my blog’s layout. So keep your eyes peeled for some changes there. Oh, and the second part of my Resource Roundup series will be posted sometime this week.

Onwards!

Acknowledging My Fears of Submission

As I was reading over my post from Monday “How Do You Prioritize Your Writing?” I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe I wasn’t pushing myself far enough, fast enough. That perhaps I was tackling other stories instead of seeing the more or less completed ones through the publishing gauntlet.

After all, my historical romance novel has been in pretty good shape now for months. I should be querying. But I’m holding off, working on other stories and devising new ones. Why? I tell myself it’s because I want to see how I do in the contest I’ve entered first, and then armed with that feedback, I can polish my MS one last time before subbing. But is that the real reason? No. As strategic and prudent as it may seem to wait, I’m just using that as an excuse not to take the next step with this project. The big one. The soul-crushing one.

I’m avoiding the inevitable rejections that will come my way once I send my MS off into agentland. I’m afraid of my dreams of writing a book becoming real. Because then the book becomes a responsibility. No longer can I tuck it in a drawer or push it to the back of the closet and pretend it doesn’t exist. I must own this process – the good and the bad – if I want to succeed. And unfortunately, there are no safety nets.

So as I fretted that I was responsible for holding my work back, I came across a post this week that echoed my concerns. Shonna Slayton’s post at Routines For Writers called “Don’t Reject Yourself” was basically a brief but powerful pep-talk on eliminating procrastination and getting your work out there. Digging a little deeper, I found the post “Things Procrastinators Fear” with links to in-depth discussions on fear of rejection, fear of success, fear of failure, and fear of not being good enough and ways to combat them (all of which are worth a look if you are struggling with any of these issues). Now, I don’t necessarily think I'm procrastinating so long as I am still working on other writing projects, but I must acknowledge that all the different projects I have on my plate do divide my attention and keep me from moving forward. How convenient.

I realize I’m not alone in my fears. That’s why we blog, swap stories, spread encouragement, and foster community among our ranks. But it’s hard to push past the inertia and get your stuff out there. That’s part of the reason why I started this blog. To get my feet wet in a public forum. It’s also why I joined a new writing group, so that I would be working alongside others on the road to publication. Other writers to be accountable to; other writers to help me set realistic goals; other writers to support me on my journey. And it does help.

I may still hold off querying my MS until I have the results of the contest, but I won’t let anything else slow down the process. And in the meantime, I have other pieces I need to submit. It’s time to get out there. My fingers are crossed.

Erica Marshall of muddyboots.org

How Do You Prioritize Your Writing?

Currently, I’m in a bit of a quandary as to the best way to prioritize my writing tasks. A year ago, this wouldn’t be an issue. I had one WIP and a short story or two knocking around in my noggin. But as the months passed, and story ideas accumulated as I made the time to write the way I’ve always wanted to, I now have a number of writing projects demanding my attention:

1. Historical Romance Novel – STATUS: Complete, awaiting feedback from an editor I met at a conference and a critique as a result of entering a contest. NEED TO: Query agents, contemplate entering the Golden Heart this fall, preferably armed with the aforementioned feedback from the editor and the contest.
2. Science Fiction Novel 1  – STATUS: First draft complete. NEED TO: Revise, paying particular attention to the character development of one of the MCs and the antagonist, and focus on worldbuilding. I also need an additional 20-30k to meet customary word counts for the genre.
3. Science Fiction Novel 2 – STATUS: 20K of first draft. NEED TO: Decide whether I’m keeping it in 3rd person or shifting to 1st person, layer in some plot elements in the 20k I’ve already written, and finish the draft.
4. Literary Short Story – STATUS: Complete, awaiting feedback from writing group. NEED TO: Revise based on feedback, and start targeting possible venues.
5. Flash Fiction – STATUS: Complete, awaiting feedback from writing group. NEED TO: Come up with a title, revise based on feedback, and target possible venues.
6. Science Fiction Short 1 – STATUS: First draft complete. NEED TO: Read over reference materials from library to finish researching one aspect of the story, finish the story, polish, share with writing group, revise, and then consider submitting it.
7. Science Fiction Short 2 – STATUS: Partial first draft. NEED TO: Complete draft, polish, share with writing group, revise, and then consider submitting it.

Now, there are other story ideas floating around in my mind, abandoned on my hard drive, or languishing in one of my notebooks as well, but the projects I’ve outlined above are the strongest, have the most potential, and get me the most excited when I think about them.

In a previous life, I was a research project manager. Every day I had to assess where we were at with a project and identify where we needed to be and how to get there. I was constantly adjusting my priorities, moving things up on the to-do list, pushing things off until another day, and delegating like crazy.

With writing, there’s no one to delegate things to (except my husband/beta reader who gets the first pass on most things I write). And that’s usually not a problem. In fact, I love the independence that’s needed in writing. Except for the times when the ideas don’t come and I’d love to have someone at my level to bounce ideas off of. Or someone to help me figure out the oh-so-important title. Which is often the hardest thing for me to come up with for a writing project. And as a result, these are the things that I keep putting off in my WIPS.

So how do you prioritize? Especially when each writing journey is different, when your end goal may differ from another’s, when your work is so uniquely yours it’s not apparent how to move forward… Sometimes, it seems that making a decision via Rock, Paper, Scissors can be just as reasonable as a more elaborate decision-making process. And sometimes, I suspect, there's no right answer.

I don’t have any hard or fast rules. I try to take the pieces that are closest to being of publishable quality (still trying to come up with a litmus test for that – ha!) and send them off to contests or get them in the hands of my writing group, so I have a bit of breathing room to consider my next move. Then, during the in-between times, I work on the other pieces that aren’t quite ready for primetime. Usually I select the projects that need the least amount of work before moving on to the ones that require more mental effort and preparation. Case in point: Project #3 on the list was started well before #2, but I ran into trouble and starting doubting my initial POV choice. Instead of slogging through it, I put it on hold and completed the first draft of #2, which was more straightforward in terms of structure and plot. I wouldn’t call myself work-adverse, but this was certainly a case where I avoided the project that demanded more of me in favor of something slightly easier.

Part of me wonders if I am making these choices because I’m (relatively) young and impatient and want to get my work out in the world now. Will I prioritize my writing projects in the same manner five, ten years from now?

How do you prioritize your work when you have competing projects vying for your attention? And if you’ve come across other blog posts tackling this issue somewhere in the intertubes, please post links in the comments below. Thanks!

Getting Serious about Submitting

I’m getting close to the point where I’m ready to submit a novel I’ve been working on, on and off for the last fifteen years. That’s a long time. As such, the work is the most fully conceptualized out of all my other WIPs. It’s good, I know that much, but it still has flaws. How do I know? One, because I started it in my early teens. And two, because as soon as I think I can do no more with it and put it aside to work on something else, I come back to it with fresh eyes and new ideas to make it better. The problem with unpublished works is you can keep tinkering with them for years.

But this time, I’m ready. And I have a plan for publication. But for starters, I will be submitting the first twenty pages into a contest hosted by a regional writer’s organization. Every entry is critiqued, and I want to use that as a way to see where I’m at. Like I said, I think it’s good, but it’s hard to be objective when I’ve been living and breathing this story for so long. I also haven’t had a lot of people read the work. For a number of reasons. Primarily because of lot of my friends would not be the best choice for feedback on a historical romance, and a medieval one at that. Plus, they don’t really know I write… Awkward.

So anyway. Contests. Fortuitously enough, I recently stumbled upon Miss Snark’s First Victim’s blog and learned Authoress would be hosting a 25 word challenge where people submit their first 25 words (or up to 25 words that ended in a complete sentence) to see if people would be hooked enough to keep reading. I submitted the first 17 words of my WIP along with 175 others and got some comments. And all it took was an email and poof! Instant feedback. Part of me was just so excited to have feedback from other like-minded individuals. Some of the comments surprised me, but they signaled things I need to keep in mind as I move forward with my WIP.

Granted, the first 25 words will not make or break an entry, but I found the experience invaluable in terms of getting other eyes on my work. Blogger Sharon Mayhew, inspired by Miss Snark's First Victim, is hosting another contest, this time the first four sentences. And I have happily submitted my work to this contest as well. These mini challenges have been a great way to jumpstart my final stretch edits as I prepare my manuscript for the regional contest. Hopefully the momentum will keep me going!

Three Minute Fiction Entry

The winner of round three of NPR'S Three-Minute Fiction was announced last week. Sadly it wasn't me. But I enjoyed many of the selected entries, finalists and honorable mentions alike. I participated in rounds two and three, and even though my work hasn't been featured, it has still been a rewarding process for me.

How can I say that when I have nothing to show for my efforts? Simple. Unlike submissions to a literary magazine or publishing house, all these short stories evolved out of a single prompt. Round two was an opening line: The nurse left work at 5 o'clock. Round three was the evocative image below. All the potential writers were given the same handicap if you will; only skill and imagination set the entrants apart.


Having submitted my own story, it was fascinating and hugely instructive for me to read the selected entries, noting not just writing technique and word choice, but the writers' basic premise and how they negotiated the prompt in their work. Round three had far more entrants than round two, which means competition is only getting fiercer. Every literary/intellectual type out there thinks getting featured on NPR is the ultimate wet dream. I can only imagine the bar will be raised yet again for round four, featuring judge Ann Patchett, author of Bel Canto.

I'll be entering no matter what, but here are a few caveats I'll need to keep in mind. Since this is now a hugely competitive contest, my work must be perfect if I'm going to hang with the alpha-dogs. I must also avoid the obvious interpretation of the prompt. Or if I do go with the obvious, I must give it my own patented twist. When we did round two in my writing group, everyone followed the nurse home in their stories, while only I stayed at the hospital. I'm not saying my story was more successful then the others, but I did something different, which can only help when you are competing against thousands of other entries.

When working on my round three entry, I kept seeing heartbreak and loneliness and all the sap that goes along with those themes whenever I looked at the picture prompt. I knew I couldn't write a story around those issues because it seemed too obvious. When I told my husband that, he said, "Well, you could go in the complete opposite direction and make a story about terrorism." After he said that, I couldn't get the notion out of my head. So my story became a what-if exercise exploring that idea. I also used 2nd person, a first for me, as a way to stretch myself. I knew my entry had shock value and a good energy to it, but I know my craft is still being developed and probably wouldn't hold up against the readers from the Iowa Writers Workshop NPR brought in to winnow down the entries... It didn't, but I am still proud of my piece because I stretched myself in the writing of it.

If you aren't pushing yourself or discovering something new every time you sit down to write, then you must ask yourself why you are even bothering.

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Here is my entry for round three:

By Design

You have no idea. You only spy the discarded newspaper as you scan the café and think you’ve finally caught a break. After all, you no longer carry loose change and news racks don’t take debit cards. You thrill at the thought of getting something for nothing as you claim the stool so recently discarded and smooth out the newsprint in front of you. Despite your good luck, you still inwardly cringe at the residual body heat that confirms my existence at that very same table only minutes ago. You want my crumbs but you don’t want to have to feel grateful about it. But all that’s forgotten as you read over the headlines in a desperate bid to ease the comfortable monotony of your existence.

You don’t even pause to question what I was doing at that table before you walked in and ordered your skinny soy latte with an extra shot of fair trade espresso. I could be anyone: the jihadist next door, the cokehead in over his head, or the local crackpot who amuses and frightens in equal measure. I could be any number of people pushed too far who inhabited your space moments before. The newspaper is our only link, but you try not to think about that. It’s too intimate. Just as you avoid looking at the fingerprints stuck to the table. You’re not ready to acknowledge the world we live in.

Had you looked out the window instead of answering your cell phone, you might have figured it out in time. You might have seen the backpack shrugged off by someone who immediately fades into the mid-morning crowds. But you sit there and ruffle through the paper sections as if you hold the key to the universe at our little table. You won’t find the answers on inked newsprint, only yellow lies and agitprop. But you don’t realize that. When you hear the explosions across the street you still won’t understand. Not right away.

Not as chunks of concrete and twists of rebar fall from the sky. Not as I slide into a window seat on the city bus as it groans down the street and out of sight. Not as people cry out in fear or pain or disbelief. You have a front row seat to the destruction of what offends me most, and you can only gape and take a sip of your drink and think on how you’re going to get back to work. Only later will you realize luck had nothing to do with it.