Dangerous Times in a Book’s Creation

Many dangers that threaten to turn a book’s creation into something less than it could be exist between the spark of an idea and the publication of a work. I am right now in a critical area with my next Seamus McCree novel, Doubtful Relations.

Its inception might be prevented because the author was not mindful and missed the spark, dooming the story to an eternity of nonbeing.

Some authors have the reverse problem to that of missing new ideas; they are overwhelmed by new ideas. Rather than choosing one and working to bring it to a satisfactory conclusion, they flit from one shiny concept to another and never complete a first draft. They begin each story with enthusiasm, but at some point a brighter object appears to distract them. The idea they were working on appears pale in comparison, and that once great idea is consigned to the physical or electronic bottom drawer with its fellow incomplete projects.

I do not want to suggest that authors should not abandon stories that do not pan out. I’ve quit mid-draft when I decided the story was not big enough for the canvass I chose. I also have a story that after struggling with it, I concluded I could not yet capably tell with my skills. I like to think I have not abandoned the story, merely put it on hold.

Completing a first draft is both a cause for celebration and time of danger. First drafts by their nature often suck: The storyline is not yet solid; the writing is clunky; characters and descriptions are overwrought or barely sketched. There are so many problems, some authors give up. That has never been my issue.

Conversely, some newer authors think their first draft is a fine creation and rush it on its path to publication. Agents and publishers will reject manuscripts that still need much work. I fell into this trap with drafts of my early novels that I tried to find homes for before they were strong enough to deserve them. I continued to improve Bad Policy until it was deservedly published.

Some self-publishers are so excited when they type “The End,” they doom their book with premature publication.

Fortunately, I enjoy revision. I am neither discouraged at how bad my first draft is nor enamored with my terrific story. I know I have many drafts to go before I have a version I think worthy of publication.

However, there comes a point while working on each of my books where I become sick of it. I want to howl to the moon that I am through; I want to move on to the next project. Doubtful Relations is at that point.

I’ve improved the story through a number of drafts. Beta readers provided large scale feedback that I incorporated. I modified the story based on my story editor’s suggestions and comments. I’ve pruned and fluffed and rewritten and repeated. Now Jan is reading it one last time before I ship it to my editor for her review.

And, of course, Jan will find errors (because there are always errors). And she will find several (hopefully not more) things that have been wrong in the last several drafts that everyone who read those versions (including both me and Jan) has missed. Because I am ready to be DONE WITH IT, my patience is frayed by her finding stuff that should have been caught before!!

I’m not frustrated with her; I’m frustrated that I hadn’t found and fixed those things. That is what makes this the most dangerous time for me. I might rationalize away a problem or slap a Band-Aid on it or make quick changes that correct one problem and create another. Any action like that will diminish the story.

Knowing my style, I am mindful of my reaction and counteract it by reminding myself I desire to produce the best book I possibly can. To force myself to slow down, I have given myself until the end of May to deliver the manuscript to the editor. I’ll have at least seven weeks between receiving her final comments and the book’s August 23 publication date to reflect final changes.

How about you, authors? What is the most dangerous time for your novels?

Readers, have you ever been enjoying a well-written book, and then, as though someone else took over authorship, you are smacked with a clunky section somewhere in the middle or an ending “phoned in” from the beach (or mountains if that’s how the author would answer Elaine’s question about favorite vacation place)?

~ Jim

Mentally Becoming the Writer You Want to Be

Perhaps we’ve reached the point of the month where resolutions are chalked up as just another good try before going back to the status quo. But, if you are still in the “new year, new you” mode, you might want to consider these suggestions from Rob Parnell’s The Easy Way To Write Short Stories That Sell.

In his introduction, Parnell identifies the two basic requirements to write stories that sell: (1) deliver a clean professional product, and (2) write to the market specifications. (As he explains in his second chapter, “it’s not selling out, it’s cashing in!”) Once he consistently accomplished these two tasks, he found his stories selling and being published.

To prepare oneself to be a writer who meets these goals, Parnell says the writer must be mentally ready to undertake the obligation. He describes certain steps and exercises that can help a writer achieve the right mental state. The information about these steps and exercises is found in “Part One: Mindset” of his book. Following is a summary of his recommendations:

 

Rob Parnell

Visualize and Verbalize. Say to yourself that you are a good writer, whose work is deserving of publication, and that you will complete each story you start. Make this statement part of your being, of who you are as a writer.

Complete the work you begin. How do you develop the ability to finish a story? Start thinking of how the story ends. Write a dozen short paragraph stories that have a beginning, middle, and end. Maybe they just describe a process. Don’t stop until the explanation is complete. Then write, “The End.” Get used to reaching the place where you write, “The End.” Make that a part of you. After you have a dozen examples, no matter how short, the act of writing “The End” becomes part of your work product. You have learned to persevere to reach the conclusion.

Have a schedule or writing plan. Determine when you will write each day and dedicate time for that purpose. A writer writes regularly. That is how a writer produces a body of work. Initially, begin with a short time period and/or a limited number of words. One hour a day/200 words. You can always build on that basis. The act of writing gets the brain conditioned to the practice. Regular time spent writing a small amount is more productive than sporadic days of producing thousands of words. During the time not specifically planned for writing, be aware of writing influences, things you may want to write about. Make notes. Then, when your writing time comes, type up those notes and add to them.

Use writing time to write. When you sit down to write, be active. Don`t ponder and daydream. Aim to write a little more quickly than your thought process for a story. Put pen to paper or hands to keyboard and keep them moving, even if you think the product is inferior. Once you have something on paper, you can edit it. And, reading over what you have written, you often see merit you did not notice while writing.

Set goals based on your writing output. Figure out how long it takes you to write a story and begin to produce work on that timeframe. A short story each week or every two weeks or whatever the period it takes. Begin consistently achieving that accomplishment.

Accurately identify your purpose in writing. What attracts you to telling stories? Do you have a life experience or family history you want to share? Do you want to make people laugh and see the humor in living? Do you just like creating worlds and discovering the people who inhabit them? Be honest with yourself. Cogitate and determine the reason you put words together. Then, develop your own mission statement to ruminate upon and use to poke your subconscious into increased activity to meet your mission goal.

Make a list of concrete goal statements. Attainable pursuits you know you can accomplish with consistent work. Follow through to reach those goals. Success reinforces capability.

In summary: (1) Create the image within yourself. (2) Produce. (3) Schedule writing as part of your daily routine. (4) Don’t cheat yourself; use your scheduled time to write. (5) Evaluate your output and use that to make goals for production. (6) Write a mission statement. (7) List out goals to pursue.

This model looks like a business plan, which makes sense. To be serious about writing, you should pursue it as you would a business. Work to fulfill your own hopes and dreams, but also to be self sustaining. Make money, not just do something you love for fun.

Parnell’s recommendation that I puzzled over was the idea of writing your writer’s mission statement. I understand the concept of mission statements for groups. When more than one person is involved, a mission statement can clarify goals and provide focus. I also understand on a personal level that a mission statement can help you evaluate core beliefs.

Recently, while working with a designer to launch my website (BSP--http://paulagailbenson.com/), I had to think about how I wanted to introduce and present myself to the public. I’ve seen many writers try to encapsulate their work in a succinct description meant to draw in editors and readers. I know this is important with pitches, as Sarah Henning has told us in her Sunday, October, 27, 2013, blog message, “The Art of Writing a Pitch”. At the same time, I have qualms about how a sound bite or slogan can adequately express the essence of a person or a person’s work.

How do you write a mission statement in a way that is unique, definitive, and true to yourself? How can you be brief, sincere, and comprehensive?

I found a website, http://www.missionstatements.com, part of which is a pay service, that offers a step by step process for writing an effective mission statement. Have you written one? If so, how did you do it? What benefit has it provided?