Being Clever versus Being a Good Storyteller

Over the weekend I went to a reading for a local speculative fiction author. In the course of his talk, he said something that resonated with me.

That with his first book series, he was trying very hard to be Clever and write Very Important Stories. But now, a few books later, he’s focused on good storytelling, no matter the milieu he’s working in (I’m paraphrasing here).

I found this to be an interesting distinction he made, and it echoed some of my internal (but not quite fully formed) thoughts about my own work and what I need to be focusing on if I want a career in this field.

Case in point: One of my short stories that I have been submitting since early 2012 has been shortlisted or bumped to the second round at SIX pro or semipro markets. But it still hasn’t found a home, and I have to ask myself why. I’ve settled on the fact that it is my “cleverest” story, given its subject matter. It asks a lot of the reader at the beginning, but it also rewards you once you get to the end. (Yeah, that kind of story.)

The first couple of times it was shortlisted, I chose to be encouraged, thinking I just haven’t found the right market. But after six (six!) times being a bridesmaid, well, I think it’s time to reevaluate things.

Perhaps I’m a little too in love with my cleverness, and as a result, I’ve forgotten the number one reason for writing a story for publication…. Readers.

I’m not saying cleverness is a bad thing. Instead it’s a matter of emphasis.

Putting story and the reader experience first does not mean you can’t also be clever. In fact, being clever in that context can be an amazing thing.

But the flip side? When being clever is your primary goal, sometimes to the exclusion of all else? That’s where you tend to lose people. (A semi-related aspect of this is when beautiful writing overwhelms a story to its detriment—see the recent article Literary Talent versus Story Talent.)

I think this is a particular problem in SF/F because Ideas! and Science! are often an integral part of the story. A nifty idea can make up for a lot of sins in craft, character development, and plot. Almost to the point where that nifty idea becomes a crutch.

My story has a nifty idea, and it also commits a few sins of good storytelling. And that combination has netted me a whole lot of close-but-no-cigars. So where do I go from here? I’ve got to figure out a way to present my nifty idea within the context of good storytelling.

That can be a hard gulf to bridge for any writer, beginning or seasoned. But letting the story rest and getting some new eyes on it will go a long way. At least I’m hoping so.

Warning signs your “cleverness” is getting in the way of your story:

• Focusing on your “nifty idea” to the detriment of other story elements.
• Reader feedback saying they didn’t understand aspects of your story.
• Infodumps that are necessary to explain things to unenlightened readers.
• Telling yourself the above is okay because you’re writing for a select/smart/in-the-know audience which consists of you and maybe five other people.

Have you ever been guilty of letting your ideas take over your story?

Invisibility of Progress

Improvements in writing ability are often hard to detect. So much of what is “good” is contextual—dictated by a particular project, the audience you’re writing for, or even market trends.

I’ve talked before about How Do You Know if you are ready for publication. Although it’s related, that’s not exactly what I want to talk about today.

Instead I want to focus on all the invisible things writers do in the hopes of bettering their craft, expanding their professional network, and positioning themselves for success to the best of their ability.

Image courtesy of Penywise of Morgue Files

Objective measures of success in this field are pretty self-explanatory. You’re either published or you're not (however you choose to define it). When you’re “not” published, chances are you’re doing a bunch of things other than writing in the hopes they will pay off in some small way in the future.

For example, I haven’t sold any short stories since last fall. If you are looking at my output objectively—well, there isn’t any by that definition. Instead, so much of what I’m doing these days is invisible. And I’m still trying to figure out what that means.

These invisible activities include:

Reading slush for Masque Books – Beyond occasional mentions here on the blog, it’s something I do to strengthen my ability to evaluate projects, diagnose writing problems, and gain insights into the editorial process. I won’t be able to learn these things overnight—this requires a commitment of months if not years to see the benefit from this type of activity.

Joining an invitation-only critique group – The meetings are intense and panic-inducing. I’m learning tons, making good connections, but as with any critique group, feedback is only as good as the projects I bring to them. Workshopping novels (and short stories to a lesser extent) can be a long process outside of development time.

Submitting to higher-tier markets – I have three in rotation right now that I truly believe in. And I’ve been aiming high. My sales last year gave me the confidence to target higher-tier markets. Personal rejections? Check. Second-round bumps? Check. Agonizing ‘You just missed the cut’ notices? Oh yeah. And the worst part is, all this means longer response times.

When non-writers ask me about my writing these days, it’s hard to explain how all these invisible activities fill up my time and contribute to my work. But they do mean something. They are valuable. They just go largely unseen because they don’t conform to objective measures of success.

I just have to believe they’ll add up to something that cannot be ignored one day.

What aspect of your writing life is invisible?

Rough Crit

Criticism is hard to take sometimes. But if you are actively seeking it out, there’s no better way to improve and hone your craft in my opinion. It means you take your work seriously and want to grow as a writer.

It also means you are guaranteed a rough crit session from time to time. So here are some tips for how to survive an in-person critique when it seems like your colleagues or fellow workshoppers are out to get you.

During the session:

1) Don’t get defensive

I repeat: Don’t get defensive. Getting defensive leads all too easily to getting angry, which can lead to things being said that cannot be unsaid.

If you find your hackles rising, find a way to channel that feeling into something productive. Me? I’m a notetaker. I write down all the bad things someone raises about my work during critique sessions. Even the things I don’t agree with. Something about the process of notetaking adds a crucial bit of separation between me and what’s being said, allowing me to compartmentalize the negative stuff and move on.

2) Don’t try to justify

We’ve all been in that situation where a writer says something like, “Well, what I was trying to do in that scene…” or “My intentions were…” et cetera. This often leads to a lengthy monologue where the writer explains why the story is the way it is, refuting every issue raised during the session along the way.

This is a waste of everyone’s time. If you try to justify what you wrote—preferring your words to a reader’s honest reactions—you’re basically saying your critiquers’ reactions to your story don’t matter. Which begs the question why you are soliciting critiques in the first place.

Note that this does not mean you can't ask someone for clarification about why they felt the way they did about your work. You can. But be wary if you find yourself protesting too much.

 

3) Don’t take your bad crit out on others

I’ve been in roundtable critique sessions where a writer responds to a harsh crit by being harsh in turn out of spite—not raising legitimate issues with the work under consideration. Don’t be that person.

If you can’t be civil in the aftermath of a rough crit, excuse yourself, take a time out, do whatever it is you need to do to find balance. It may not seem that way when your critiquers are tearing apart your work, but they are trying to help you. Don’t do something that will jeopardize their future good will.

 

After the session:

1) Give yourself some time

If you aren’t ready to dive into the negative feedback, that’s okay. Read a book, work on another project, do whatever it is you need to do to be in the proper headspace for processing feedback.

Taos Toolbox had a very large critique component. I deliberately refrained from looking at what my colleagues had to say about my work until I got home. Why? Because I knew if I looked at the written feedback it would distract me from my main goal of the workshop: making real connections with fellow writers. I didn’t want my interactions tainted by the critiques—that’s the one who got too heavy-handed with their line edits or that’s the one who hated my MC—instead of getting to know them on a more personal level. It also gave me time for their suggestions to sink in, and when I got home, I was more open to making changes.

 

2) Understand who is giving you feedback

In other words, not all critiquers are created equal. Just because someone writes a lot or well doesn’t mean they automatically give good feedback. Similarly, just because someone doesn’t have a lot of publishing credentials doesn’t mean they won’t have any insights into your work.

Some things to ask yourself when weighing feedback:

How much experience does this person have with critiquing?

Do they write in my genre?

Do I like their style/storytelling abilities?

Are they a writerly type to avoid? – Inexperience, ignorance, and ego can all be problematic

 

3) Understand what you are getting feedback on

You’d think this is a no-brainer, but you’d be surprised. Whatever you submit or send in, right? Here’s the thing. You know, consciously or unconsciously, what kinds of questions you have about your story. And whether you ask for specific feedback or not, the issues your critiquers raise can surprise you.

There’s nothing worse than expecting macro-level feedback and getting your story put through a line editing meat grinder. Or expecting help to polish a final draft, only to have your story premise dissected. That’s not to say those things can’t be helpful—usually they are. But if you aren’t expecting it, those kinds of crits can be devastating.

So double-check your critique expectations. If there’s a large deviation between the feedback you expected and what you actually got, ask yourself the following:

Did I specify my critique expectations? 

Sometimes it is as simple as saying your story is an early or a final draft—often that will cue the critiquer to respond accordingly. Other times, you may need a second opinion on a problematic element (say structure or characterization). You want to make sure you tell your critiquers that. It may not help—they could forget or get distracted by another aspect of your story, but at least you know you tried to get the right kind of feedback for your story.

Did I inadvertently trigger one of my critiquer’s hot-button issues? 

People will respond in unexpected ways to your work. If you hand an atheist a Christian romance, well, that could lead to a very interesting critique. People with different worldviews and life experiences are great to have in a writing group—but those very differences can lead to surprising results in practice as well.

It usually comes down to knowing the people you are exchanging work with. As someone who’s spent a lot of time reading and writing romance, I can be very critical of those scenes. One of my writing friends is an interior designer, and often her comments pick apart descriptions of interior spaces and architecture. Similarly, scientists get cranky when you fudge scientific details or resort to handwaving in speculative works.

So if a critiquer is overly sensitive to an aspect of your story, ask yourself why. Usually it is because they have firsthand knowledge or expertise on a particular subject. Instead of getting defensive, use their knowledge to strengthen your work.

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I hope this post results in less stressful and more useful critique sessions. For more on this subject, check out 5 Ways to Get Good Revision Notes.

Happy writing!

What To Do When Writing Gets You Down

Writing is hard. Once you think you have the basics of craft down, you then have to deal with constant rejection, wait times that never get shorter, and the insecurities that pop up at least once a day.

But it’s important to remember that it’s okay if you can’t always put on a happy face day in and day out. Writing is work. There will be not-so-good days. The trick is being able to move past the bad and stay productive.

First, Give Yourself Permission to Feel Awful…

...Then Move On

If you can do this, the rest of this post is superfluous. Seriously though, you knew that writing would be tough when you first started out, and it doesn’t get any easier later on. But something in you had to keep writing anyway. And that spark is essential for dealing with the inevitable bumps in the road. It’s natural to feel disappointment at times; just remember why you started writing in the first place.

Distract Yourself with Something New/Different/Comforting

Break out the chocolate, if you must. Your favorite food or adult beverage—in moderation, please. Watch a movie, take a walk, try something new. These are all good strategies to distract you from whatever’s bothering you (a string of rejections, a story that just won’t work, whatever). Take a break even. Read something in a different genre from what you’re trying to write in. Artist dates are also a great distraction from whatever has you down—and also feed into your creative mindset too.

Analyze Why You’re Upset…

...Then Harness The Emotional Impulse Behind It

This requires distance. It can also force you to confront things about yourself you may not like. After all, things like shame, anger, and jealousy aren’t exactly a barrel of laughs.

Do you feel ashamed after a rough critique of your work? Anger over a rejection you thought was a slam-dunk? Jealousy over the success of another writer? Try to pinpoint why you feel that way.

For me at least, I feel ashamed when someone calls me out on something in a critique that I consciously or unconsciously know is an issue in my story. This tells me I need to listen to my gut, that nagging voice in my head that says you need to fix this.

Anger, I’ve come to realize, is going to be a part of the writing process for me. Maybe you’re wired differently. Each rejection I receive makes me angry in some way, even if I can see a story’s flaws in hindsight. But I try to funnel that anger—that energy—into the next piece I write. The one that will succeed where the last one failed. Just remember that you are writing out of anger, which can require adjustments once you’ve had a chance to cool down.

Jealousy is a tough one, and people more qualified than me have discussed it elsewhere (see Everyone Gets Jealous, Even Published Authors, Pros and Cons to Comparing Yourself to Other Writers, and A Writer's Antidote for Envy). Just remember that writing is not a competition, even though it can seem that way. If you don’t like what you’ve achieved so far, work to change that—start a new project or use a new strategy to get your work out there. Find a positive way to achieve your definition of success.

Don’t Forget To Celebrate What You’ve Accomplished So Far

It’s so easy to get tunnel vision and forget where you came from. You know, back when you couldn’t write your way out of a scene? Don’t forget to take time to look back at what you’ve accomplished. Writing is one of those fields where visible successes (like story sales and book deals) are few and far between.

So you need to unearth those smaller, less visible successes—the ones that demonstrate how seriously you take your writing and how it’s impacted others. Things like joining a crit group, a compliment from a writing colleague, a blog post that made an impact, a completed story draft. These are not insignificant successes, and they should be acknowledged as such. I had the illustration for my story in the Memory Eater anthology framed and hung in my office, not only because it’s the first of my stories to receive its own illustration, but also because it’s a constant reminder of what I’m working for.

***
So if you are feeling down, I hope you’ve found some strategies to feel better about your writing. What’s helped you beat the blues?

Trunking Stories

It’s official. I’ve decided to trunk one of the first science fiction short stories I’ve written.

This isn’t a story I never finished or abandoned halfway through. This is a story I completed, workshopped, submitted, revised some more, and collected a handful of rejections on. I haven’t exhausted all markets for it, but it’s time to set it aside.

This was a tough decision for me. I’m not one to give up easily. I do think any idea can be salvaged. But that still doesn’t mean something is publishable, or a least publishable in the way I want it to be. Or that the time spent fixing the story isn’t better spent on writing new ones.

My story had an off-putting epistolary structure, a future world never explained only inferred, a main character who had no real character arc. Feedback from readers and editors ranged from “It started too slow” to “It ended too soon.” “It was too experimental” or “too predictable” and so on. Suggestions for improvement were wide-ranging as well, and at least one revision pass I did made the story even worse.

But even when confronted with this evidence, I still spent time tinkering and trying to place the story. Why? Well, maybe it’s because I’m stubborn. Maybe it’s because I’ve read too many times how subjective this business is and maybe, just maybe, the next market will be it. Or maybe it’s because I’m nostalgic, because it was my first and I’m inordinately proud of my effort despite knowing that it isn’t what it needs to be.

If there’s anything that first story has taught me, a neat concept is nothing without proper execution and characters the reader cares about. You need to have the whole package. If you don’t, it’s time to go back to the drawing board or set the story aside.

Having writing a half-dozen stories since then and started a handful more, I can see the improvements in mechanics, storytelling, character development – nearly all aspects needed for a successful short story – that I’ve made in my craft. It’s time to move on.

As Orson Scott Card says in How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy:

[Y]ou should send out, today, the best work you are capable of doing today. Of course you’ll do better a year from now. But a year from now you should be writing the story that you care about and believe in at that time – not reworking this year’s story. […] Because the more you fiddle with your story, rewriting this paragraph or that one, the more likely you are to make it worse. There are things you instinctively do when the story is in its first rush out of your head that are truer and better than anything you’ll come up with as you second-guess, revise, intellectualize. (2001 edition, page 105).

Learning to let go is HARD. As writers we store up everything we experience -- emotions, factoids, ideas – and then slowly mete them out as we write. But to purposefully abandon something? It can go against our very nature. The trick is knowing when to set a story aside, and for how long.

In When Do You Trunk a Story? SF author Juliette Wade explores different reasons for trunking a story: no market for it, it isn’t good enough, it isn’t your first priority, and so on. In When do you walk away? And how do you know when to come back?, Wade talks about what happens when a trunked story calls out for your attention despite the passage of time.

I do think time and experience can do wonders, not only in improving your craft, but honing your ability to see how stories work. Or what Martina from Adventures in Children’s Publishing calls identifying “What Isn’t On the Page”:

I wonder if that's the difference between rewriting that first manuscript twenty times and writing ten new manuscripts? We can stare at the page and edit it until every word is different, but that doesn't necessarily show us what we're missing. […] If we're hitting a wall with a particular story, it may not be because of what's on the page. It may be what isn't there. We may not be able to see that without a long cooling off period. […] Sometimes, it's time to move on, to let ourselves discover a new world populated with compelling characters and untapped possibilities. Maybe we need to consider that a gift we can give ourselves--the gift of moving forward. But before we give up, we owe it to ourselves to sit back, look at the page, and consider what isn't there.

And I suspect, if you can't answer that question, it's time to move on.

Happy writing!

What is Fit?

After my post Resolve earlier this month, writing friend Sandra Renee asked me to clarify what I meant about the “right fit” in the comments, since I talked about how important fit is when submitting your work.

My first reaction was you know it when you see it, which isn’t very helpful. So in this post I’ll try to dig a little deeper.

Fit is Doing Your Homework….

In order to know where your work fits, you have to have some understanding of what you write. This isn’t always as straightforward as it sounds. Maybe you wrote a story that straddles two or more genres. Maybe you wrote something so different from what you normally write, you’re not sure what to do with it.

Next comes research. In the first case, you’ll need to figure out which markets accept genre-mashups or at least don’t autoreject them. In the second case, you might have to do a bit more hunting around. Ask writing friends how they would classify your story (especially if it’s in an area you are ignorant of) then try to find other stories similar to yours and see where they were published.

Duotrope.com is the single best tool I’ve found for researching literary markets. Their search tool allows you to search markets (including small presses) on a variety of parameters including genre, payscales, and length of work. I would also encourage you to sign up for their weekly mailing list, which includes information on new calls, markets’ openings and closings, and interviews with editorial staff. I make a point to scan the calls every week to see if there’s something that either piques my interest or would fit with a story I have yet to place. The interviews are also helpful in discovering markets you may not otherwise run across.

If you are hunting for the perfect agents, the Guide to Literary Agents’s Agent Advice column is great for learning more about agents. You should also take a look at their Publisher’s Marketplace page to see their current client list and recent sales. If you don’t like the look of the books/authors you see there, maybe another agent is better for you.

…And then Exceeding Expectations

After you’ve zeroed in on your list of potentials, it’s up to you to do your best to make your work shine. Sometimes this means taking out the red pen one more time to ensure you’ve caught everything you possibly can before submitting. Or workshopping it with trusted readers. Or sometimes you may have to tweak it just a bit to fit the market or the editor’s preferences based on your research. Remember, half the battle is not giving the editor (or agent) an excuse to reject you right off the bat.

But above all else, follow the submission guidelines, even if they ask for ridiculous things (except money—never that). Some places are sketchy on the specifics, so when in doubt, stick to standard manuscript format.

And then cross your fingers. Because the rest is out of your hands. You have to trust that you did the best research you could and sent in your best work. Take comfort in that. Not all writers take the same pride in the submission process—as any editor or agent can tell you.

For more on the submission process, check out my post Planning for the Worst for short story submissions and my latest Resource Roundup post Querying Your Masterpiece.

Stages of Fit-ness

I will say that I’ve noticed differences in how I approach short story markets over the course of my writing journey.

Find the Fit – In the beginning, I was desperate to find any place that accepted stories that were remotely close to what I was writing. I took my square stories and tried to shove them into round markets. Sometimes it worked, but a lot of times it didn’t. I wanted to get published right now to justify and validate my work. I was also immature enough in my craft that the market had to fit my piece, not the other way around, since I wasn’t confident enough in my abilities as a writer to make the needed changes.

Make the Fit – Time passed, and I became more confident in my work and my abilities. I started targeting specific venues, primarily speculative fiction markets with themed calls. And I’ve had a lot of success in that department (more of which I *should* be able to share with you soon). I think it’s a confidence issue, but it’s also taking the themes and putting your own unique twist on them. Give the editors a story they didn’t even think about when developing the call, and make sure they can’t say no. The next step, for me at least, is to have a story accepted for an open call.

Be the Fit – I’d like to think at some point in a writer’s career fit is not something you have to worry about anymore. Markets seek out your work instead of the other way around. You no longer have to worry about where you fit in the market because you already have a place. Must be nice. But in the meantime, keep writing.

How do you determine fit?

Query-Go-Round

When this year started, I promised myself I’d start querying my historical romance this summer.

Umm…that didn’t happen. I was too busy incorporating feedback from my writing group and fretting about, well, everything.

Then I said I’d query this fall for sure. October came and went. (Where did October go? I really want it back.)

Then I told myself I’d query before December—because everyone knows agents automatically discount December queries as half-baked Nano novels and if that’s true, I didn’t want that to happen to my story.

I started querying last week.

Delight or Terror. That is the Question.

And the last few days have been full of Exhilaration (A request? They like me, they really like me!), Despair (Form rejection? Form you!) Second-Guessing (No auto-reply? Maybe I should send again.), and now impatience as the holidays take their toll on the industry.

But that’s ok. I met my (oft-modified) personal goal for querying and know the novel is the best I can make it right now. And for that, I’m thankful.

What are you thankful for?

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Story behind the Story – Eclectic Flash Edition (part 2)

The Story behind the Story is a blog post series where I share the behind the scenes info for each story I’ve had published.

Last time, I talked about my story Summer in Exile, published in the September 2011 issue of Eclectic Flash. Well, I am fortunate enough to also have another story in the issue—Elegy, my first published speculative story, which is also available online.

Elegy explores the use of implants – think wireless devices linked to your brain – in a religious context. Implants are something that both my speculative fiction WIPs deal with in some way, but I never looked at them through a religious lens. Then on one March 2010 evening, my prompt-based writing group chose to do a writing exercise on religion, and I thought aha! here’s my chance.

I then took my draft, polished it up, and shared it with my now-defunct writing group at the time. Every one liked it, but they wanted more. I’ve talked before about how my writing friends sometimes think my short stories are really novels in disguise, and feedback suggested Elegy was the same.

Later that summer, a different writing friend was visiting me and I was lamenting how people kept telling me to expand this story and how I didn’t want to. He told me, “You are the author. It’s your story. You know best.”

In subsequent months, I tried expanding the story, but nothing seemed to work. I remembered my friend’s advice and focused all my energy on revising that original scene that got me excited about the story in the first place and made it shine.

I started submitting the story in Spring of 2011. On May 3rd 2011, I sent the piece off to Eclectic Flash, and it was accepted the same day as Summer in Exile.

The Numbers:

First Draft – 326 words
Final Draft – 878 words
Days from Idea to Acceptance – 420
Rejections – 2 form
7-day acceptance

The Lessons:

Know what advice to accept and what to reject – This kind of thing can only come with time and experience, but remember that not all feedback you get on a story will necessarily help make it stronger.

Remember that YOU are the author of your work – Sometimes determining the size or focus of a story is as simple as deciding what story you want to write, and then concentrating on every aspect of craft to get it there. Simple, yes, but not always in practice.

No revising or redrafting is ever wasted work – I wrote a couple thousand words trying to expand Elegy, and then threw those scenes out when I decided they weren’t working and that the heart of the story I wanted to tell was in that initial draft. But I wouldn’t have come to that realization if I hadn’t taken the time to try to expand the story in the first place.

Happy writing!

The Story behind the Story – Eclectic Flash Edition (part 1)

This post is the first in a new, irregular series where I talk about the path to publication for each story I’ve had accepted.

Thanks to the response I got from my post Pen Names and Other Problems, I’ve decided to go ahead and share my writing credits. I haven’t officially linked my name to this blog, but baby steps. We’ll see how it goes.

Anyway.

My story Summer in Exile was published in the September 2011 issue of Eclectic Flash, which is now available online.

I first drafted the piece at my prompt-focused writing group way back in late November 2009. The particular prompt had each of us select a phrase from a book that we would then later incorporate into our story. The phrases were as follows:

• A. S. Byatt’s Little Black Book – “whistled oddly in her petrifying larynx”
• Rudolfo Anaya’s Bless Me Ultima – “his big horse eyes looked up at me nervously”
• Margaret Atwood’s Dancing Girls and Other Stories – “what the bloody hell was he doing on top of that sixty foot tree”
• Mary Doria Russell’s Children of God – “Sometimes if he kept still people would go away.”
• Wallace Stegner’s Collected Short Stories – “Shame made him turn over and lie face down”

I was pretty happy with how my story came out and decided to tinker with it a bit before sharing it with my now-defunct crit group. The other members were positive about the piece, and their only suggestion was to try to incorporate some backstory to make the character more real. But after a few attempts, I felt I was changing the heart of the story too much, reverted back to the original version, then went ahead and submitted it to a few markets starting in Fall 2010.

Rejections.

One market was kind enough to offer me some personalized feedback and again pointed out the issue of character. By now, some time had passed and I reworked the piece again, trying to flesh out the main protagonist. I shared the story at a local open mic night, tinkered some more, and finally found a good balance between character and story.

On May 3rd 2011, I sent the piece off to Eclectic Flash, and it was accepted.

The Numbers:

1st Draft: 441 words
Final Draft: 692 words
Days from Idea to Acceptance: 520
Rejections: 4 form, 1 personal
7-day Acceptance

The Lessons:

Get other people’s eyes on your stuff – My critique group at the time was able to pinpoint what I needed to do to take my story to the next level, even though I was unable to execute their suggestions to my satisfaction.

Stories take time to get right – I am convinced the iterative process of revising, submitting, revising, submitting is what led me to the version of the story that was published. This means waiting for each market to get back to you before submitting it somewhere else. I was/am too new a writer to think I’ll get my story right the first time, so trial and error was a great way for me to learn and grow my craft.

Don’t expect overnight success – 520 days. Enough said.

Intrepid readers will note that I have another story in the September 2011 issue of Eclectic Flash, but I’ll talk about that piece in another post.

In the meantime, happy writing!

Family Vaction or Why I'm Still in the Closet When It Comes to My In-Laws

Tomorrow we leave for a two-and-a-half week vacation of sorts, which includes two weddings, a trip to the beach, and visits with college friends. It will be fun and exhausting, and there’s an excellent chance I won’t get anything done.

But I’m still looking forward to the trip. Even though I need to make some tough decisions as to which books to pack. Frankly some books are simply better on a plane versus on the beach. Or read on the couch in front of in-laws instead of before bed at night.

And of course any time spent with extended family can lead to awkwardness as to just what do I do all day. Now that I have two stories forthcoming from Eclectic Flash, the temptation is there to finally say I’m a writer.

But here be monsters.

Why? Well, for starters, They May Not Value Writing. I have evidence that could go either way here. If they aren’t big readers or value only extrinsic measures of success, they just aren’t going to get it. But I am a member of the family, they are generous people, and they respect me. So maybe they’d respect the writing too.

They Also Have No Clue Just How Difficult Writing Can Be. And this goes for a healthy chunk of all non-writers. So much thought goes into word placement, structure, characterization… The more I learn about writing, the trickier it is to get words down on the page that I’m satisfied with.

Because they don’t understand how hard writing is, They Will Ask Me Why I’m Not Published Yet. You know, as in what really counts when you are a writer – a book deal. Short stories are, well, short, and no one is making millions on them. Publishing is a molasses-slow process, just as writing something worth publishing takes a looong time. They won’t understand milestones like getting a CP, or querying that first agent, or getting a full request. They just want to see a book.

And there’s the whole They Will Want To Talk To Me About My Writing Projects. They might ask out of courtesy or maybe they are genuinely interested. Which is great. I can appreciate that, even though I don’t like talking about my work until it’s far enough along that I’m comfortable sharing it with others. Ideas are just that, and until they get to the page, I don’t have a strong sense of how things will turn out. A careless word by someone else can destroy a story before it even starts. Plus, can you imagine me discussing the finer points of love scenes in my historical romance with my father-in-law? Neither can I.

But I guess it all comes down to the fact that They Will Stop Thinking I’m A Mystery And Start Seeing Me As A Dreamer With No Prospects. In some sense, the question of what I do – do I stay at home all day? Do I volunteer? Do I watch soap operas? Do I secretly want to have babies and be a stay-at-home mom? - protects me and keeps them from knowing the truth. Rejection is writing’s constant companion. I don’t need someone telling me writing is impossible, that I’m a dreamer for even trying it. I already know that. But I do it anyway, and that can be hard for some people to understand.

So yeah. Not telling them. Yet.

My husband and I discussed the best time to tell them the truth. And we decided that a professional short story sale or an agent would necessitate telling folks about me writing and all that. You know, which ever came first.

(cough) yeah, right (cough).

But for now I’m optimistic that one day I will be able to share this part of my life with them. I am a dreamer. Or a masochist. It’s hard to tell some days.

***
Because of all the travel, blog posting and commenting may be spotty, but I wish you all happy writing! I’ll be back for sure by the second half of the month.

It’s Finally Real

Or more real than it was last week

Or it’s always been real, but now I have proof*

*proof forthcoming

What am I talking about? Last week I learned that two of my short stories were accepted for publication. Not one. Two. Needless to say I am thrilled my stories will be in the September issue of Eclectic Flash.

When I saw the replies sitting in my inbox that morning last week, I mentally braced myself for more rejections. In fact, I must have read the acceptance emails a dozen times before I believed my eyes. Then I spent a few hours waiting to see if another email would arrive explaining there had been a terrible mistake and that they didn’t actually want my stuff. It never came.

Now you might think I had no confidence in placing these stories based on the mental hand-wringing described above. That’s not true. I absolutely loved my stories – which is why I spent so much time revising and submitting them. I though they were worth the effort and the rejections that came with them. After all, besides all the writing, rejection is the other hallmark of being a writer.

But I was so focused on the submitting and revising cycle that it never occurred to me how an acceptance would affect things. So I offer up some impressions after going through this process:

No More Tinkering – I no longer have to ponder past rejections or scour submission guidelines and revise these two stories. They’ve been accepted. They will be published. And I need not tinker with them again. In some ways, that's a relief. But I sometimes feel the empty space in my brain where they used to reside as I'd think about new ways to improve them.

No Money? No Problem – Eclectic Flash is a non-paying market. The distinction between paying and nonpaying does matter to some writers. But honestly, that wasn’t an issue for me. The validation that the publication credits gives me and the accessibility of my stories in both print and online has far more value at this stage in my writing life.

Never Underestimate Fit – My submission strategy is usually to aim at the top markets and go from there. I had collected a couple of rejections, and was debating my next step for both my stories when I learned about Eclectic Flash. After reading their guidelines, I felt my stories would be a great fit – not a cross-your-fingers-and-let’s-see but a oh-my-gosh-it-sounds-perfect feeling. So I sent them off even though I hadn’t exhausted all the pro markets yet. And I will never regret that decision.

Never Discount Story Ideas – The kernel for both these stories originated from prompts I participated in through my weekly writing group. Something about them compelled me to keep working on them until they were strong enough for me to submit. Had I not participated in the writing group or never allowed myself to revisit the stories, I wouldn’t be published.

Now What? Now that the revise/resubmit cycle is over for these two stories, there’s others that need my attention. I thought I’d feel different about getting a few publication credits under my belt. Perhaps even feel less cowardly about getting my stuff out there. But now all I’m thinking about is where do I go from here? What’s next? How do I keep up this momentum?

My stories in Eclectic Flash are a stepping stone. A first big break. Validation after months of hard work. The credits for that third paragraph in a query. The end of what could have been considered a hobby. And a new beginning…

Eclectic Flash Submission Guidelines
Eclectic Flash at Duotrope Digest 
Six Questions for Brad Nelson, Editor, Eclectic Flash

Getting Back on the Horse

It’s time.

Time for me to dust myself off and get back on the horse. What am I talking about? Why submitting, of course.

I started by submitting two flash pieces yesterday. I’m also reworking one short story and finishing up another one with the goal of having them submission-ready by the end of the month.

And then there’s that elephant in the room. My completed historical romance. There’s a voice in the back of my head that grows louder and more insistent every day to start querying. I’ve queried before – much too early – but this time it’s different (doesn’t everyone say that?). I’ve revised the story since the last round of queries. Had my critique partners look it over and I’m in the midst of revising again. I can see the difference in the writing in my story. Everything inside me is just screaming to send it off into the world. Now.

Author Jody Hedlund wrote a post earlier this week about the three stages of querying: the naïve beginner, the rejected optimist, and the seasoned realist. I’m definitely somewhere in these last two stages, and my next batch of queries will tell me if my work is ready. I already know I’m querying a tough time period, so it will come down to my writing and the fates.

Writer Sarah Fine also had a set of interesting posts on the querying process this week (Should You Send That Query? What We Can Learn From The Marshmallow Test & Step Away From The Marshmallow. And The SEND Button.). She relates how a psychology experiment measuring one’s ability to delay gratification ties into the querying process. Fascinating stuff!

So querying will happen. Very soon. And if nothing pans out, the process will galvanize me into tacking my next project with renewed fervor. In theory…

5 Things I Wish I Knew Before Becoming a Writer

I love being a writer. But as with anything, there are some things I wish I'd known before I got started. The blog Paper Hangover is hosting Friday Fives, where writers share the five things they wish they knew before becoming a writer.

1) It’s ok to be afraid, but do it anyway

I stared writing in my early teens. In my bedroom, door closed. I like to think my family didn’t know what I was doing – they probably did, but we didn’t talk about it. You see, I never told anyone I wrote because I was scared of what they’d say. Sometimes my doubts made me stop writing all together. I lost valuable years of developing my craft thanks to my fears. And I regret that every day as I try to keep moving forward with my writing years later. It’s ok to be afraid – writing is a scary thing, putting your thoughts and feelings on display – but never stop writing. You can only get better, and soon enough, those fears will fade.

2) Seek out all the opportunities available to you

I hate the fact that I was too intimidated to take a creative writing class in college. I was good at studying, got good grades, but terrified at trying something more creative in a room of my peers, even though I had been writing on my own for some time. Now I realize that it was foolish to let my fears hold me back like that. Today I would kill for an opportunity to take a creative writing class with my peers. Now I constantly cull the local paper for writing opportunities and events. I got involved with two writing groups. I make sure I know when readings and author events happen near me. If you want it, work for it. Make connections. You never know what will pan out.

3) Don’t just read books – study them

You’re going to read a lot of books. For fun, for school. Books you want to read. Book you hate. But the best thing you can do is become an active reader, a critical reader. Don’t just read a book because you have to or because you want to pass the time. Read for craft. Why does the author write something one way and not another? Why is one book a page turner and another one isn’t? How would you make the content of a dry history text come to life? By asking yourself these questions as you read, you will have internalized the techniques of other writers and be able to apply them to your own writing.

4) Remember to experience life

If you know you want to be a writer, that’s great. And it’s important to work towards that goal. But don’t forget to experience life in you quest for literary greatness. Go to that party. Watch TV. Walk in the rain. Talk to that person you never talk to but always see. Live. And write. The more you experience, the more fodder you will have for your stories.

5) Don’t give up

Writing is a long journey. It can be lonesome. It can be terrifying. But it can also be exhilarating. It can also be energizing. It can tell you who you are. But it takes determination, patience, and hard work. A few good writer friends won’t hurt either. You will be rejected, you will get discouraged. But you will still pick up your pen or type on your keyboard, because you are a writer. You write.

Be sure to check out the other writers participating by going HERE.

Snap Out of It

We all get into writing funks – those days where that pesky voice in your head starts saying things like “What do you think you’re doing?” or “You’re never going to make it” or “Why don’t you just give up now and save us all the hassle.”

Usually I just power through these moments by drafting a new story, reading a book, or working on some revisions I’ve been looking forward to tackling.

But sometimes that negative inner voice is bolstered by undisputed fact: the latest form rejection or, less frequently, the personalized but brief “thanks but no thanks.” That’s when the inner voices goes from being annoying to down right debilitating.
 

At that point, it’s way too easy to give into feelings of unworthiness, of self-loathing, of the unavoidable rejectionitus. If you are like me, you can’t bear the thought of working on your stories or even thinking about them – it’s too painful. But if you don’t write, you don’t get better. If you don’t get better, how can you expect to be published? It’s a downward spiral of negativity.

And I was dangerously close to falling into that cycle. Over the holidays, I finally heard back from Editor X about my historical romance novel. Instead of the glowing praise I dreamed about, I got a dead-on critique. I had another partial request from an agent, which netted me another personal rejection. I started to question whether I knew what I was doing, whether I was truly ready. Every section of my story I sent off to my critique partner resulted in more issues I needed to address. Soon enough I didn’t even want to look at my story anymore. I focused on all the negative feedback and became paralyzed by it.

But then I realized something. Sure, there were problems, but at least I now had a roadmap of what needed to be done to make my story shine. I had finally amassed enough feedback that I could see my way out of my funk.

The good:

• I have a strong logline and query (hence the requests).
• My story has an exciting beginning.
• My story has a strong second half.
• I have strong worldbuilding and interesting characters.

The bad:

• I have a saggy middle.
• Some characters behave inconsistently.
• I still need to work on incorporating historical detail and backstory effectively.
• My writing is not yet “there,” especially with regards to showing, not telling, and narrative distance.

I used to think because my story had an exciting beginning and ending, the middle didn’t matter so much. I used to think my writing was awesome, regardless of whether I had adverbs, saidisms, and lots of telling that suggested otherwise. I used to think my story was good enough. I used to think I was special, that I was the exception to the rule, that I didn't have to put in my time.

That’s obviously not the case anymore. But instead of wallowing in the rejection blues, I've forced myself to analyze my feedback and plan out a way to make my story stronger.

It took effort to snap myself out of my funk and it will take even more effort to make the changes to my story that are needed, but it will be worth it.

How do you snap yourself out of writing funks? What keeps you motivated when the going gets tough?

How Do You Know?

In the last few weeks, I’ve noticed a bunch of blog posts that dealt with the issue of readiness for publication, in some shape or form.

Is your story ready? Is your craft ready? Are you ready?

This is something I have struggled with over and over again in various ways. Are my critique partners telling me the truth, are they the best people to evaluate my stuff? Have I done enough to polish my prose, explore the world of my story? Am I ready for the responsibilities of deadlines, edits, and networking?

Often, my answer is a resounding YES. But when I look back at this past year, at the queries I sent too soon, the submissions I sent out, fueled by optimism and impatience instead of assurance in my craft, I cringe a bit. I’m not alone. Writer Lydia Sharp had a poignant post on this topic recently.

Kidlit agent Mary Kole talked about the differences between Unconscious Incompetence, Conscious Incompetence, and Conscious Competence, Unconscious Competence in her post Dealing with Rejection.

Basically, when we start writing, we think we are awesome. Then we gain some perspective and realize, boy, we have a lot to learn. We work on our craft, get better, but it still feels forced. Every word is a trial. But the light at the end of the tunnel is mastery. I like to think I’m competent, but I am highly conscious of the effort needed to make my work shine. (And even then, I can’t be sure that it's not just my ego talking).

A science fiction slush reader weighed in with Lessons from the Slushpile: Good versus Great (a post I found thanks to a tweet by @elizabethscraig):

We see so many stories where if the author had taken a little more time, taken a step back from it, come back with fresh eyes and put in what was missing, it would have made all the difference. As writers, we’re in such a hurry to get it out the door that we get it to Pretty Good and submit. Pretty Good isn’t good enough.

It’s painful, but true, especially knowing I jumped the gun on some of my projects. Rashness. But on the opposite end of the spectrum is perfectionism. Agent Scott Eagan suggests that some writers hold back sending out their stuff not because the story’s not ready but because they aren’t ready to move forward in their writing. We tinker, we obsess over details, we want everything to be just so.

Maybe we stick with our stories too long. SciFi author Juliette Wade’s post When do you walk away? And how do you know when to come back? presents a thoughtful discussion of factors to consider when deciding how to move forward with (or move on from) a story.

The writing blogosphere is rife with overnight success stories—you know, the people who just decided Hey, I’m going to write a book and never hit a roadblock before hitting the bestseller list. While I’m glad people are writing and selling books, all the backslapping can be discouraging to those still slugging away in the trenches. That’s why it was so refreshing to stumble upon this interview with author Jay Lake via the blog Dancing with Dragons is Hard on Your Shoes. As Mr. Lake points out:

What made me interesting to my agent wasn’t that I was at the right convention, in the right bar or knew the right people. It’s that when we were introduced, and she asked, I had projects to discuss and a publication history she could review to see if she liked my work. There was serendipity in our original connection, but everything else flowed from the years of hard work I’d already put into writing and marketing my fiction. […] Keep moving, keep working.

Without that base of effort, without that production, all the marketing and networking in the world won’t do you any good. You can succeed as a published author without marketing if your work is strong enough. Lacking the work, there is no success as a published author.

How do you know if you are ready? 

What are you doing to be ready?

***
Next week look for a Resource Roundup post on Openings, as I’ve been immersing myself in the subject (again) as a result of attending the WD webinar Start Your Story Right: How to Hook an Agent with Your First Pages last week.

End-of-the-year Assessment

I can’t believe it’s December already. Lame, I know, since we’re all feeling that way. But I thought it would be a good time to stop lamenting how time flies and try to determine just what I’ve accomplished this year so far.

What follows may be of limited utility to you, but I encourage you to evaluate your own writing efforts in a similar manner – you may discover you’ve achieved more than you think!

Novel-length Projects

Medieval Historical Romance – Complete at 93k. I’m still tinkering with it. I sent out two queries to two agents this summer. Although both rejected it based on partials, I did get a personalized rejection from one agent. I learned the oh-so-important lesson: don’t query too soon. Since then, I’ve strengthened the beginning thanks to critiques I received through Miss Snark’s First Victim and Sharon Mayhew’s blog Random Thoughts. I got some constructive criticism and encouraging feedback through the Golden Rose Contest. And thanks to a posting on Adventures in Children’s Publishing, I found a critique partner who is helping me assess the novel with fresh eyes. It’s amazing what story elements, sentences, even words you take for granted when you’re reading something for the gazillionth time! I also took a chance and submitted my first chapter to Harlequin’s So You Think You Can Write contest after they picked my scene for the SYTYCW scene challenge.

Goals for the upcoming year – Armed with a newly polished manuscript, I plan to query agents in earnest after the holidays. I had hoped I would be at this point this fall, but obviously that didn’t happen. If the agent search is unsuccessful, I fear I’ll have to set this project aside. *sniffle* 

Speculative Fiction 1 – This is the project at the center of the kerfuffle with my critique group last month. I’m proud of this WIP because I’ve completed two drafts this year (considering how many years it took me to finish my historical romance, this is quite an achievement). After completing the first draft, I was able to identify some issues with the story, and took steps to make some big changes, including adding a third POV character. With the second draft now complete, all the major plot points are in place. 

Goals for the upcoming year – It’s time to take this story to the next level. I’ll be revising this story mercilessly to ensure all the new elements I’ve incorporated gel. I’m still hopeful my critique group will help me strengthen the manuscript. If not, I’ll need to hunt up some beta readers. *gulp* 

Speculative Fiction 2 – I actually started this story before the one above and was 25k into it but then ran into some considerable plot roadblocks. However, after working through the other spec fic story and mulling things over in my subconscious, I now know what I need to do in order to proceed. 

Goals for the upcoming year – Finish the draft. That’s all there is to it. I’m going to have to rework some of what I already wrote and add a whole lot more. *groan* 

YA Contemporary – This was my NaNoWriMo project this year. I had wanted to write this one for awhile but my writing plate’s been pretty full. So I though NaNo would be the perfect time to jumpstart a new story. Thing is, I only got 13k words down during the month of November. But I have a rough outline for the story and look forward to working on the rest of it. Unlike my historical and speculative works, the voice was one of the first things that came together for this project. It’s also nice to be able to write something without doing a whole bunch of research first, since I’m drawing on my direct experiences growing up. 

Goals for the upcoming year – Finish the draft. I’m a little concerned at how easy this story is developing. Maybe I’m getting better or maybe I’m not pushing this story far enough. We’ll see once I have a complete draft. *sigh*

Short Story Projects

Speculative Fiction Short – I was so excited about this story. I got good feedback from my writing group and started submitting it bigtime – Asimov’s, Analog, Clarkesworld. And got rejections for my efforts – though one editor did say: “The story is very nicely done, but I’m afraid it's not quite right for me.” What can I say? That made me feel a teensy bit better. But I decided to hit the submission breaks, and I have been mulling over story revisions ever since. 

Goals for the upcoming year – Rework story, workshop it with my critique group, and start submitting again. *bracing for the worst* 

Speculative Fiction Flash – This originated as a prompt from my writing group. I fleshed it out and then shared it with my critique group. Everyone really liked it but thought it needed to be expanded. I didn’t agree with that. I liked it’s length and wasn’t up for creating an elaborate world to go with it. So I tinkered with it a bit and sent it off just last week. 

Goals for the upcoming year – See if I get any sort of feedback on the story from the magazine I submitted it to and identify other outlets for the piece. If nothing works out, reevaluate. *crossing fingers* 

Literary Flash – This also originated as a prompt from my writing group that I revised and shared with my critique group. I submitted it to a few places and got form rejections. Then I read it at an open-mic night, which forced me to evaluate each and every word. I made a few changes and sent it out again. This time I received a very nice personalized rejection, telling me what worked and what didn’t. And he was totally right. 

Goals for the upcoming year – Wait a few weeks, then revise with an eye to what this particular editor pointed out. Then start submitting again. *deep breath*

The Writing Life

I’ve taken ownership of my dream to write:

• I went to my first writing conference.
• I joined a critique group in addition to my writing prompt group.
• I found a critique partner.

I started blogging on February 23, 2010. 64 posts and 64 followers later, I’m still going strong. I've had to make some changes, but I’m pleased with my slow but steady progress. I’ve had 18,000+ pageviews since I started (a big difference from the total on the nav bar, which only counts since May 2010).

I started tweeting (@bluemaven) in mid-March. Twitter keeps losing my old tweets but I think it’s almost 300. I have 120 followers, which is pretty good considering how picky I am in who I follow. I also don’t chat a whole bunch on twitter – just sharing links and sometimes day-to-day commentary.

140,000 – approximate word count Jan-Nov 2010 (including new WIP content, prompts with writing group, and blog posts - but not revisions). 

Goals for the Coming Year – Keep on keeping on. I want to maintain my blogging and twitter regimen. I’d also like to find a good writing conference to go to. I’m thinking RWA Nationals, but that scares the crap out of me. *shivers*

What have you accomplished this year? What are you proud of? How are you going to take your work to the next level?

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.

A Case of the Not Enoughs

I’m constantly worried I’m not working hard enough on my writing. That I’m not writing enough. That I haven’t had enough life experience to write anything worthwhile. I’m already pretty sure I haven’t read widely enough even though it seems I'm always reading when I'm not writing. And I suspect I’m not revising enough, even though I’m not sure how I should approach that process differently.

Bottom line, I fear my attempts to better my craft just aren’t good enough.

It’s a debilitating spiral of negativity to be caught up in. But consider:

It is no longer enough to have a webpage. Writers must blog, tweet, share on Facebook. And the list of Thou Shalts keeps getting longer when it comes to social media. (On a side note, Paulo Campos over at yingle yangle has a great post on how social media affects people’s perception of writing success.)

It is no longer enough to land an agent. While agents are still a writer’s number one advocate in the publishing world, the writer still has the ultimate responsibility for selling, positioning, and managing their work. Now, this is nothing new. With so many aspiring writers out there, armed with record levels of literary, the market will favor those writers who can seemingly do it all.

Am I one of them? I don’t know yet as I’m still struggling with this notion: It is no longer enough to write a book.

I’ve written a book (and completed a number of solid drafts for other projects). One that I’m proud of. But is that enough in today’s marketplace? NO. I need to ensure both my idea and story execution are marketable. Competitive. The best I can make it and then some.

This means it is not enough to write for yourself. You must look past your own narrow view of the world. You must know your audience (Found in Translation by Michael Cunningham provides a fascinating take on how to envision the audience for your work). Ultimately you must have a built-in market if your book will win the struggle to stay relevant in our evolving digital culture.

When making the leap from writing for myself to writing for publication, aspects of my work that didn’t bother me before were thrown into sharp relief. I had to ask myself if my work was still good enough for a wider audience. And I didn't like the answer.

It’s hard enough to write a book from start to finish. I don’t mean you have to write in a linear fashion, but that you actually complete the project (tinkering aside). When you hit that point, it can be a tremendous relief. After all, how many other people have great book ideas but get stymied by the execution? But then the real hard work looms ahead of you. Revision. After too many passes to count, you have a polished book, sure, but is it one people want to read? One you can market to publishing houses? One that people will plunk down money for?

Is it that good?

This is where I stumble every time. I just don’t know. I think my work is good. My few readers think so too. But is it good enough? Have I done enough? And if I haven’t, how do I take my work to the next level?

Am I overstating things here a bit? Probably. Am I so discouraged that I will stop linking words, creating dizzying chains of sentences that when fused together make for some awesome storytelling? Hell no. I started writing because I loved it. I won’t stop now. But I still think I haven’t done enough to get things right. I haven’t learned enough. But as always, I’m willing to try.

If this post is a little too grim for you, take a gander at the Agency Gatekeeper's take on debut novelists and what they need to beat the odds:

What do you need? The ability to write really, really, really well. And a great query, a great first page, and The Jeff Herman Guide. Or another  method of finding agents who are likely to be a good fit.

 Until next week.