Lessons Learned the Hard Way: Jean Oram

All professions have a learning curve and writing is no exception. Yet in writing more than other professions, you're on your own. It's a solitary job after all, which means important aspects of the task sometimes get missed. These posts will be a chance for writers to mentor other writers through their confessions of lessons they learned. Lessons that might have been as painful as a pencil poke in the eye.

This post is a little bit different this week. Jean Oram, moderator from AQC, is here to share some of what she learned about being an author. The first part of her post is here on my blog. To read the rest of her post which applies more to her self-publishing journey, you'll have to go her blog. The link will be at the bottom. I read her book in less than two days. Fantastically written, the characters kept me guessing until the last moment. A very enjoyable read!

Last month I took the plunge and published one of my favourite manuscripts, Champagne and Lemon Drops, which had been soundly rejected by publishing house editors and literary agents. They liked it, but couldn't sell it. Chick lit was dead. (Although, apparently not if you give it away as a free ebook! Chick lit is still alive and well and still throbbing hearts within the indie circles.)

Michelle asked me to share a few of the lessons I've learned since my book’s launch. I had so many things pop to mind—many of which most authors don’t warn you about—that Michelle and I decided to break my list into two posts. This post, here on Michelle’s blog are all-round tips that can benefit both traditionally and independently (self-published) authors whereas the other half of the tips posted on my blog, The Helpful Writer, are must-read tips for indie authors (even though they can also help the traditional author). Both lists can benefit all authors and we encourage you to read them both.

Hold onto your hats! Here we go.

1. Edits will take at least twice as long as you think they will. And a part of you will always want to do another round—even though edits can be tiring and difficult. Start early on your edits. Always.

2. Pay it forward with other authors out of the goodness of your heart. Look for ways to help others without expectation and you will be stunned by how absolutely amazing and wonderful these people are when your book comes out. Warm and fuzzies!

3. Be kind. Always. Always. Always.

4. Make sure your website and social media profiles are up-to-date well ahead of time. At launch this is the last thing you want to stress about.

5. Have a prominent sign up link on your website’s homepage so readers who come check you out can sign up for new book updates. i.e. an author newsletter. This is a great way to stay connected to your readers so they don’t forget about you between books.

6. Join a posse of people who know what they're doing. Support systems rock and it is nice to have people who know the ins and outs of publishing and can help out, answer questions, chat, etc. Publishing can feel like a solitary endeavour, but it doesn't have to. You can also cross-promote and have fun while marketing and holding contests!

7. Visibility. The biggest thing that can go wrong with your book is obscurity. Books need readers. Get out there and get your book out there. There are tons of reading sites that are looking for new release books, books to review, etc. This can be time consuming, but this is why you have #6--your posse. Share your tips and resources with each other. Publishers can't do everything these days.

8. Read up on social media marketing and your form of publishing at least six months in advance. Practice and learn ahead of time while the stakes are low. You don't want to make a bunch of newbie mistakes and blunders and turn off readers or start freaking out because you don’t understand what you are doing right around book launch. (BTW, a great example of knowing the ropes would be learning about promotion on Facebook ahead of time so when you go to promote your book or a giveaway you don't end up in Facebook jail and with your account locked--it's happened to more authors than you may realize! All because they didn't do their research and made (reasonable) assumptions about what would be acceptable terms of use with using Facebook.)

 9. Watch for book pirates! Eek and arrr!

10. Verbal blurb. People--in real life--are going to ask what your book is about. You have your written descriptions and likely a tagline, but in real life you need something simple that will start conversations AND roll off the tongue. It has to feel natural and be easy to remember. (As well as be intriguing.)

11. Write the next book. Always be writing the next book and let your readers know you are working on it. They love the feeling of knowing what an author is up to. It feels personal and they become invested in this new product before it is finished. Plus, more books equal more exposure, more readers, and more hooks out there in the world. It is also your best publicity. Me? I'm about 1/4 of the way through the first draft for book two of the Blueberry Springs series.

How about you? What lessons have you learned on the path to launching a book? (You can include things you’ve learned from watching others.) Let us know in the comment section.

P.S. Don't forget to read part 2 on The Helpful Writer.


 

You can check out Jean's book, Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance for free on Amazon.com, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords (with more vendors to come).

Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

One woman. Two men. One meddling small town. Raised by her older sister in the small town of Blueberry Springs, all Beth Wilkinson wants is to create a family so big she’ll never be alone. Things are going great until her accountant fiancé, Oz, throws their life in the air, sending her on a journey of discovery paved with choices--including whether to return to her old life.

Lessons Learned the Hard Way: Sean Jenan

This is a lesson that seems so simple and, yet, is so deep. It's in keeping with the writer. I've twisted the arm of the most mysterious and elusive of my writer friends (And maybe applied a little guilt. Sorry, I learned it from my mom.) to get this post. Actually I really want to thank Sean for taking the time when I know he is extremely busy at the moment.  

Lessons Learned

On a cold, dark morning in the winter of my forty-fourth year, I faced the realization that I had lost all faith in the absence of God.

I hadn’t found God exactly — but rather I thought of a question that I’d never had the words to ask before. I’d always understood the universe in a way that let it operate quite efficiently without the need for a divine creator, but it occurred to me in a moment of frightening lucidity: it didn’t then automatically follow that there wasn’t one. In trying to discover what was, I’d ignored the awesome playfulness of what could be.

Then the strangest thing happened. The spigot from which my stories had once flowed, stopped-up since the waning days of my youth, suddenly burst open. After a twenty-year hiatus, I wanted to write fiction again. I needed to. And with the benefit of two extra decades of knowledge, experience, and wrinkles, writing a new novel would be easier than the fitful thrashings of my teens and twenties. And it was! In a seven-month rush of pent-up ideas, I wrote nearly half a million words, which I rived in fifteen editing passes to the one hundred thousand that still remain as the completed manuscript for Cipher.

But the process was still too fractious and inefficient for me, filled with too much wandering and blind alleys. I was determined to make the next book more of a march than a fandango, perfect the technique of Writing The Novel. When I started sketching the plot for Black Sea, I resolved to use the lessons I learned writing Cipher as a springboard for crafting a tighter, denser work in less time. I set a goal of five months for completion, with the initial zero draft allocated forty days (corresponding to Lent).

The zero draft went as planned. Using my detailed outline as a guide, I made my 2500 word-per-day goals time and again, and even when I’d find a day swallowed by research, my output on the following day would easily keep me on track to finish. By Easter of 2012, I had 99,822 words on paper. I figured after a trip to the Easter vigil mass (to get Baptized, Confirmed and receive First Communion after having completed the year-long preparation program required to enter the Catholic Church), I’d have a quick three months of edits and be ready to query.

Yet this Lessons Learned is written a year later, during the last weeks of Lent in 2013, as I still edit and polish and make changes to Black Sea. I don’t know if it’s because this novel is much more challenging structurally than Cipher, if my evolving standards and expectations for my writing have outpaced my abilities, or if the distraction of querying and tinkering with Cipher revisions concurrently is hindering me, but the net result is that my “five month novel” is likely to be a “fifteen month novel” — if I’m lucky.

Fifteen months was lucky for me in 1990. It had been that long since the birth of our first child when my wife told me she was pregnant with our second. I recall one of the eye-opening things about being a second-time parent: how surprised my wife and I were to discover that nearly every hard-won lesson we learned with our every-so-difficult firstborn son was barely useful with our new daughter. She didn’t merely arrive from the factory equipped with a different option package, she was at a right angle to everything we had learned to expect. We had to discover a new way to be the parents she needed us to be. Fortunately, thusly experienced with both types of child, we were well-prepared for our third. Until she arrived as a little human being somehow perpendicular to the axes occupied by her brother and sister. Suffice to say, three additional children later, we’re currently parenting in six-dimensional spacetime with the only common locus between our children’s personalities the zero-point origin centered on my wallet.

And it turns out novels are no different. Writing my fifth novel is as much a journey of discovery as was my first, three decades ago. The stories are alive, they’re unique, and — for me, at least — they can’t be stamped from a mold or contained by a process or predicted by a theory. They’ve got to find their own way, take a path as individual as the characters that populate them. That may mean a single forward motion or it may mean wandering in the desert for forty years. So being an author, like being a parent – like being a man – means valuing relationship more than result. Doing more listening than talking. Remaining open to serendipity, to foolishness, to moments of impossible absurd clarity. Following each path unafraid into the darkness — just to see where it leads.

And as it turns out, that’s a way to find yourself in a much more interesting place than you ever expected to visit.

Lessons Learned the Hard Way: Terri Bruce

All professions have a learning curve and writing is no exception. Yet in writing more than other professions, you're on your own. It's a solitary job after all, which means important aspects of the task sometimes get missed. These posts will be a chance for writers to mentor other writers through their confessions of lessons they learned. Lessons that might have been as painful as a pencil poke in the eye.

You all know how it is to write. Many of us have suffered through the querying stage. But what happens after... Thank goodness Terri Bruce is here to share a dose of reality. Prepare yourself. This is an eye-opening post.

We’re Going to Have to Work on Your People Skills Edition 

The beginning of one’s writing career, the “aspiring author” stage is about honing writing craft, about learning the technical skills that go into building a story—plot, pacing, obscure grammar rules, that sort of thing. There’s also a whole lot of learning about the publishing business—query letters, agents, advances, that sort of thing. The great thing is that there’s a TON of advice out there for people at this stage. You can’t throw a rock in the blogosphere or self-help section of the bookstore without hitting someone giving advice on how to write and get published.

So, then, you get published. Hooray! ::party party party:: And then…nothing. 

The world goes sort of quiet about what comes next. It’s kind of the same with baby books—lots of books about pregnancy, not so many on dealing with colicky infants. Turns out there is a reason for this: the people who are going through this stage are too damn tired and too damn strapped for time to write down any advice, and by the time they’ve passed through to the next, they’ve forgotten what it was like because it was all a blur.


You’re not just farbot, you’re magra-farbot!
This might be why so many debut/early career authors act like paranoid delusionals—it’s the fatigue and stress talking. I’ve seen authors have meltdowns over three-star reviews (“OMG! They’ve ruined my perfect 4-star rating on Amazon! My authorial career is O-VER!”). I’ve seen authors (and publicists and agents) have “I’m gonna cut the bitch” style meltdowns over 1 or 2 star reviews that were very fair and balanced, with legitimate criticisms. I’ve seen authors have meltdowns because a blogger would not accept their book for review. I’ve seen authors have meltdowns when a blogger was late posting the author’s guest appearance to his blog. I’ve seen authors create “sock puppet” accounts and post fake reviews of their own books and vote down the good reviews of other authors. I’ve seen authors have public meltdowns (and accuse publishers of theft) because they know, with deadly certainty, they sold two copies of their book during the last quarter but didn’t get any royalties. Damn it, they want their $2!!!


Quite a lot of the time I feel like channeling Chuck Wendig and shouting, “just chill the fuck out!” On the other hand, there might be a good reason authors at this stage of their careers get so stressed out.

Sure, they’re cute now, but in a second they’re gonna get mean and they’re gonna get ugly somehow, and there’s going to be a million more of them 
You know that scene in Galaxy Quest where Justin Long’s character, Brandon, comes up to Jason Nesmith (Tim Allen’s character) at the convention and starts pestering him with what he (Brandon) perceives as an inconsistency in the show? It’s a squirm-inducing scene because on the one hand, we realize Brandon is trying so desperately hard to impress his hero, but on the other hand, he’s going about it all wrong and having the opposite effect by being a dick, trying to show that he’s smarter than everyone else. Well…those people exist. I just had my first run-in with one at a convention, and it was not fun. To compound the situation, what my “Brandon” was pointing out was not, in fact, incorrect. However, both he and a fellow author sharing the table with me both cut me off mid-explanation, talking right over me and emphatically declaring I was in the wrong—which, of course, made me really, really angry. Like, Tim Allen going off on Brandon angry, which, of course, is not a thing an author wants to do.


This isn’t the worst of it. I’ve had other authors (even those at the same press as me) enter contests against me (after they knew I had already entered), and then plug their book/entry at the top of their voice to the community we both belong to (such as the publishers’ readers’ list), thereby sucking up all the votes in the shared pool for themselves. In one instance, this was a monthly contest and the author in question entered EVERY SINGLE MONTH, even after she won one month, thereby ensuring none of her fellow publishing house authors could have a shot at the limelight. I’ve had unpublished/aspiring writers snub me after I got my publishing deal (presumably out of jealousy), and I’ve seen respected members of the writing community sneer down their noses at other authors’ routes to publication in a high-school level mentality of “my publisher is cooler than your publisher.” I’ve seen authors harass and stalk bloggers/reviewers and I’ve seen bloggers/reviewers harass and stalk authors—including publishing personal information such as home address and the location of the other party’s children’s schools, and ordering their followers into a crusade to destroy the other party. I’ve seen authors hounded out of the public arena—some have had to shut down their twitter or facebook accounts, or even their blogs, in order to deal with the flood of vitriol. When I recently shared that I had sat next to a well-known author at a convention, ten people shrieked that he had no right to be there, he should be home writing, damn him! How dare he spend even one day away from the computer! I’ve seen authors give up writing altogether because the negativity—from their fans!—got to be too much.

So many days I feel like a caterpillar gazing out across an eight-lane mega-highway I have to cross and thinking to myself, “How am I ever going to survive this?”

So, what’s the lesson learned here? Being published is terrifying.

You think putting your work out there for public consumption is the scary part? Excuse me while I laugh—long and loud and with just a touch of hysteria. The reviews are only the tip of the iceberg. I don’t mean to frighten you, soft, squishy newbie writer, but if open and honest criticism by a crit partner or beta reader reduces you to tears, you aren’t ready to be published. As much as I loathed querying, and would rather stab out my eyes with a spoon than go through that process again (a vain wish, I know), it does serve a useful purpose: it builds resistance. It builds strength and endurance and fortitude in the face of criticism, self-doubt, and negativity. It teaches you to revel in and relish the small victories and to take the long view of things. Things that are large setbacks in the short-term are revealed to be mere bumps in the road in the long-term.

So far there hasn’t been a lot of “hard way” for me around this lesson because I was accidentally smart. In the five months between the time I signed my contract and my book hit the shelves, I lurked about the internet, getting a feel for things. I read book blogs and learned what kinds of things book bloggers care about—what they were reading, what they liked and didn’t like in books, what they liked and didn’t like in author behavior, how they liked to be approached with review and tour requests. I dipped my toe into Twitter and figured out how to have conversations with strangers—and how to turn the other cheek or keep my mouth shut when provoked. I watched authors implode on the internet and I watched other authors successfully navigate situations that could have gone south. I learned just how deep a footprint we leave on the internet, even when we think we don’t. I’ve seen bloggers recreate tweets and facebook posts from cached images and screen captures—even after the posts were deleted—and I’ve seen bloggers reveal fraud by tracing I.P. addresses and conducting sophisticated analysis of text to link blog posts, reviews, and even blog comments to one individual.

Through all this, I’ve learned patience and tolerance. I’ve also learned that the long-tail of the internet values honesty and genuineness above all else—don’t interfere with people’s right to their own opinion or free speech. Don’t try to cheat or fool people. If you make a mistake, own up to it immediately. Apologize. Be humble—after all, you’re the one that screwed up. Be a real person—it’s okay to just chat with people, without trying to get something from them (a review, a spot on their blog, a sale). Be grateful—say thank you. Give more than you take. Don’t use people. Don’t get big-headed. Share the limelight—let other people have a turn. Don’t sneer at others or look down at them. Don’t be defensive—it’s always a deflection of what you’re actually feeling and it just pisses people off. If you’re embarrassed, say you’re embarrassed; if you’re disappointed, say you’re disappointed; if you feel like an idiot, say you feel like an idiot. Learn to let shit go. Relax. Keep in mind that disliking your work is not the same as disliking you personally. Learn to value the people who understand this. Ignore the people who don’t. And remember: you got into this business because you have something to say, something to share. It doesn’t matter if people recognize the importance of what you have to say—their recognition (or not) doesn’t change its value.

About the Author

Terri Bruce has been making up adventure stories for as long as she can remember and won her first writing award when she was twelve. Like Anne Shirley, she prefers to make people cry rather than laugh, but is happy if she can do either. She produces fantasy and adventure stories from a haunted house in New England where she lives with her husband and three cats. Her second novel, Thereafter (Afterlife #2), will be released June 1, 2013.

Contact Details

Email:                     tbruce@terribruce.net

Website/Blog:       www.terribruce.net

Goodreads:          www.goodreads.com/TerriBruce

Facebook:             http://www.facebook.com/authorterribruce

Twitter:                   @_TerriBruce

Lessons Learned the Hard Way: Carla Rehse

All professions have a learning curve and writing is no exception. Yet in writing more than other professions, you're on your own. It's a solitary job after all, which means important aspects of the task sometimes get missed. These posts will be a chance for writers to mentor other writers through their confessions of lessons they learned. Lessons that might have been as painful as a pencil poke in the eye.

I'm happy to welcome my CP and fellow YA dystopian writer, Carla. You may not know this, but Carla is the fastest reader I've ever had the privileged of exchanging work with. If you need something looked over fast because you got an unexpected request, she's the tops. She's pulled my butt from the fire again and again. Thanks for sharing your wisdom with us, Carla.

     “Never give up, never surrender!” from Galaxy Quest is one of my favorite quotes. It’s also a double-edged sword when applied to writing, as I recently realized.

     Practice, patience, and perseverance are the three “Ps” of writing. I started writing almost four years ago, and with the help of my fabulous critique partners (thanks Michelle!), my skills have improved. I have learned to love commas, or at least not hate them as much as college algebra. After finishing and querying two books, I’ve also learned to be patient. Characters evolve at their own pace in the story. Checking my email 500 times an hour won’t make an agent respond any faster.   

     It’s the last “P” that has proven tricky for me. I knew when I queried my first book that becoming published would take a long time, unless I wanted to try self-publishing. I had read many blogs about the querying journey, and I expected the rejections and the months of waiting while an agent read my book.

     What I hadn’t prepared for is when do you stop and let a book go? What is the right amount of perseverance? I queried my first book, Fringe Towns, for almost a year before writing my second. But while querying my second book, I couldn’t leave Fringe alone. If I found a new agent, I sent off a query and ignored my second book.

     I spent 2012, revising and reimagining Fringe. Over Christmas, several friends I hadn’t seen all year asked if I was still writing. I mulled over that for a month, until I realized the truth. Actually, I had stopped writing. It was time to let Fringe Towns go.  

     If your goal in writing is to become published, perseverance is a must. But perseverance should be about pushing forward, not staying stuck in the same place. I’m now writing a book that I started last year before putting it to the side.

     So, here’s to a new year, new ideas, and lessons learned.  

Lessons Learned the Hard Way: Eli Ashpence

All professions have a learning curve and writing is no exception. Yet in writing more than other professions, you're on your own. It's a solitary job after all, which means important aspects of the task sometimes get missed. These posts will be a chance for writers to mentor other writers through their confessions of lessons they learned. Lessons that might have been as painful as a pencil poke in the eye.

Eli Ashpence brings us her brand of wisdom. You can find Eli at her blog. Her book Genocide to Genesis is available on Smashwords: Eighty years after World War Three, the immortal Val is one of the few who lives long enough to see the modern world of science crumble into a medieval world of magic. Thank you for sharing your lessons with us, Eli.

  

When I really get down to it, there's only four lessons I'd like to impart to other people.  Yes, only four our of the four dozen. 

1.  You are your own worst enemy. 

This was the hardest lesson for me.  No matter how much I was told I had talent, I simply couldn't believe it.  I had a little too much humility.  Dreaming came easy, but no one ever taught me how to chase my dreams.  In high school, when everyone was deciding their career paths, 'author' wasn't an option.  It wasn't realistic.  It wasn't done.

Once I learned how to get out of my own way, things became incredibly clear.  Suddenly, I knew what I wanted out of my life.  I had a goal and a passion.  I finally understood what everyone meant when they said, "Do what you love." 

I might not be a best-selling author yet....

Yet.

Oh, how wonderful that word can be!  I might have to keep my day job and my family might drive me to distraction, but I'm a writer.  I learned to accept it.

 2.  Heart.... and Meaning

In the beginning, it was easy for me to write drivel.  Hundreds, even thousands, of scenes came to mind so easily, equaling millions of words.   I didn't care what message I was sending.  I was satisfied simply by shipping characters and settings. 

It's a few years down the line and I'm running out of drivel.  Writing has become work and, although it's still enjoyable, it takes more energy.  More importantly, I've been lucky enough to gather fans... impressionable fans.... fans that take every word to heart.

What do I want to say?  As I transition from hobby writing to professional sell-your-words writing, this weighs on me even more.  When I consider how much my readership could potentially grow with one viral novel, I have to think of the potential impact I could cause. 

"If I could change anything in the world, I'd change..."

This is exactly why they say the pen is mightier than the sword.   (Too cliche?) 

Then how about this:  I'm not saying every story has to have a point other than enjoyment.  I AM saying that all good stories have readers that look beneath the surface of the story, so we should keep it real.

3.  Body... and Time

Writing takes a toll on the body.  For me, it happened quickly as I tried to make up for lost time with enthusiasm.  Now, I could be moaning and crying and making a big deal about writing stories with a hunt and peck style of typing.  I could talk about the dangers of carpal tunnel and curse the heavens.

I won't.

What I will say is, "I've learned to spend my time more wisely."  We all write, hoping to hit upon that one masterpiece that will let our star rise in the industry.  We want to be heard and seen, known and loved. 

For many, this is like creating a series of lottery tickets and hoping one will strike the right numbers (or notes).  However, when I think of all I've written to date, and all the stories I've trunked, and all the hours I've put into my craft, I have to wonder what would have happened if I'd put all that energy into a single worthwhile novel.  Why, I'd have a series of fifty books!

More to the point, we as human beings only have a short time on this planet.  We all hope to spend fifty, eighty, even a hundred years honing our craft.  Unfortunately, we could also get hit by a car, fall into a sinkhole, or freeze in a freak snowstorm.  Hell, we might even die of old age, but that doesn't change the lesson I've learned.

We have a limited amount of life, so aim to write something eternal.

4.  Opinions aren't Edicts

Writers often trade opinions on writing and we wrap ourselves in a knot, saying, "This is right, that is wrong.  Only break the rules after you've followed them."

Bah, humbug.

Readers often become critics and critics are quick to point out flaws.

Feh.

Your friends laugh, your family looks the other way, and your dog doesn't respect you.

Hmph.

EVERYONE has an opinion, but all the talk and all the self-important prattle will only teach you one thing.  And, no, it's not that only your opinion matters, because even you can be wrong.

Lesson four:  If your words have soul, nothing else matters.  

Lessons Learned the Hard Way: Alys Cohen

All professions have a learning curve and writing is no exception. Yet in writing more than other professions, you're on your own. It's a solitary job after all, which means important aspects of the task sometimes get missed. These posts will be a chance for writers to mentor other writers through their confessions of lessons they learned. Lessons that might have been as painful as a pencil poke in the eye.

A new friend, Alys Cohen, is here to give us today's lesson. She goes all the way back to high school (which is farther for some of us than others) to take a look at writing methods we were taught and why they might not work for everyone.

On untying our characters and listening when they speak to us 

 Take out a fresh sheet of notebook paper and a sharp #2. Loosely plot the main points next to capital letters. Beneath each of those, next to numbers, more detail. Beneath those, next to lower case letters, add more detail.

Who? You. 

What? Writing your first manuscript. 

When? Probably right now, or fairly recently. 

Where? I presume somewhere on earth. 

Why? That’s for you to decide. 

How? I’m going to guess using an outline and formulaic methods high school teachers insist are the only right ways to do anything. 

Therein lies the root of many problems. We are trained to plan the details that can’t always be planned. 

Since the dawn of time, or at least the modern educational system, how we write and how we think has been distilled down to a couple methods that all of us are expected to know, use, understand, and love. But there are several problems with forcing all writers, whether students or serious writers hoping to be published, to abide by one narrow method that has little room for creativity, a method taught as the only right way because it’s easier to correct with a red pen. I am going to address just one of these issues today. 

A few writers outline outline outline every tiny detail, and then run with that to write their actual manuscript. But far more often this stifles writers. I can’t even count how many people I personally know who have had wonderful ideas, but quit because they just couldn’t make their characters do what they outlined. Their outlines eventually crushed them. 

Our characters may be figments of our imagination, but they are no less real than a friend we can reach out and touch, especially when given the multiple dimensions (link to TJ’s guest post) human beings have. We feel for them, we hope for them, and we cry for them. They are alive.

So why do we try forcing them down a path set at the very beginning instead of going on the journey with them and making decisions as new challenges arise? Simple. Most of us were graded on our outlines in school. We default back to what we were taught as teenagers and start our hopeful-careers by continuing to listen to the teachers. 

Let go. Move on. Aim for something more than what will get you an A in a high school class. Your readers aren’t your teacher who will check your outline to make sure you did it the way that that teachers sees as the right way. 

Since our characters are real, we must let them speak. If you had planned for Jane to cringe as she’s walking on snow, but after a tender conversation with her new beau, Joe, the words that want to be typed are that she skipped through the snow, slipped, but he caught her in his arms and they shared a laugh, don’t force her to cringe and ruin the interlude. These unexpected moments add realism and depth to our characters. Sometimes the moments that want to happen aren’t so joyous. That’s all right too. If the time is right for two characters to part, or a character to die, then go with it, at least for a while. If it doesn’t work, you can always revert to your script. But those subconscious moments of inspiration are fleeting. 

Sometimes a character will want to disappear, even one who worked so well in your outline. Many of us have relatives like that, or maybe we are that relative. A family gathering comes around, and everyone but that one person wants to play charades. Forcing that person to participate only drags everyone down. Let that person go off on their own and everyone benefits. The same is true in writing. Chances are the characters you read in other works who just seem out of place and add nothing to the story were characters their authors wouldn’t remove. Little Johnny was in the outline, and outlines are made to be followed, right? 

J.K. Rowling tried forcing a cousin in the Weasley family. Mafalda was going to be a Slytherin and an intellectual foe to Hermione. Rowling, though not a beginner by this point, tried to force a character who just wasn’t working with the plot. Mafalda didn’t want to be there. Hundreds of pages into Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Rowling accepted that Mafalda just didn’t work. So much time and energy was lost in the initial writing, and then in rewriting from the start to remove this character. 

Chuck the overly rigid outlines. Use a loose one as little more than a vague plan of action or the general outline of a road trip. Allow for detours along the way and roll with the unexpected. So you didn’t expect to spend an extra half hour staring in awe at the world’s biggest ball of twine and now you won’t have time to see the world’s largest rubber band. Maybe a road ends you blocked off and your detour takes you to an old ghost town on the way to your next hotel. Enjoy the journey and appreciate those things you, or your characters, wouldn’t have experienced if you had insisted on sticking to an outline scheduling the fun down to the minute. Let them have fun and speak through you, and you may be just as surprised as your readers at what your characters have to say and teach you. 

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Lessons Learned the Hard Way: TJ Loveless

All professions have a learning curve and writing is no exception. Yet in writing more than other professions, you're on your own. It's a solitary job after all, which means important aspects of the task sometimes get missed. These posts will be a chance for writers to mentor other writers through their confessions of lessons they learned. Lessons that might have been as painful as a pencil poke in the eye.

My friend, TJ Loveless, is here this week to share her lesson. She claims she's not worthy of the title experienced writer, but she's too modest. You're the tops, TJ. You can find TJ on twitter, her blog or facebook.

Every writer has a story all their own. Whether it is beginners and their first steps, those somewhere in the middle, veterans published with their words out in the big, bad world.  All carry words of wisdom, something to learn, hope to accomplish our shared dream – our words out in the world, enjoyed by others and perhaps, some wisdom imparted.

I'm barely past the newbie stage.

A year ago the opportunity to dedicate myself to writing popped unexpectedly into my family's life. I'd been writing full length novels (60k+ words) for the last three years, but had no clue what to do next. Our move to Wyoming let me stay home and learn.

It's been twelve months, four seasons, three hundred and sixty five point two five days. During that time I've learned how to lessen passive writing, to spot scenes of such poetic visuals as to draw a tear to the eye – and cut those buggers from the manuscript.  I've learned to critique for others, to love red ink, try to write queries (Kryptonite, anyone?), and realize while my stories may be similar to others, they carry my unique signature.

But the biggest lesson I learned the hard way?  To have a sense of humor. To laugh at myself, the mistakes I made – and still make – and find the funny silver lining wherever possible.

Rejections hurt and cause gaping holes in our egos.  Every story has a piece of my heart, sprinkled with a little soul for spice. How can they not love it as I do? Rejections can make an author doubt their talents, abilities and imagination.

I'll use this example:  I'm currently writing an Urban Fantasy and gathering every critique possible as I go. In other words, I'm sending it out in rough draft.  I've gathered more than thirty, and I'm only halfway done. I read the pointers, and often end up laughing with tears.

Seriously?  I wrote the following line: “I hugged myself tightly, wrapping my arms around each other.” I'd turned the MC into a pretzel. Luckily, the agent who critiqued it thought the line worthy of four sentences of puns, sarcasm and a “I haven't laughed this hard in ages. Thank you.”  She knew I sent a rough draft, and quickly forgave me. Go ahead, laugh. I did. It is funny and worth a lot of comments. I don't mind – anymore. Before I might have thought about walking away, cursing my stupidity. 

We are human, we make mistakes. Although I'm thinking of applying for that superhero job.

Learn to laugh at your mistakes. An MS received a full request from an independent publisher.  After I ran around the room, squealing in glee, jumped up and down while trying to hug the Hubby, made a complete fool of myself, Hubby had to force me to send the MS. I sat there, deer in the headlights expression, wondering what on earth I'd gotten into this time. I quickly tapped an email, attached the MS and clicked on “Send” before I could change my mind.

Only to find out I'd left out pertinent information such as: My name. Contact information. Other info requested by the editor.  I was mortified.  Burned so red with embarrassment I gave myself a headache.  Kept thinking, What a bloody idiot! Great email, ya Spaz!  I sent the info, apologizing, but made a few remarks aimed in my direction.

I laughed after the second email. So did the editor - who talks to me on Twitter at least once a week.

I now have a great story for others, let them know they aren't alone in the stupid mistakes we all make. It's worth a laugh, and has helped quite a few relax. 

Moral of this rambling blog? Don't be so hard on yourself. Let the mistakes be a stepping stone, I doubt you'll do it again. Laugh, see the humor, make it fun.  And most of all, enjoy this journey. After all, it bears your indelible signature.  

Lessons Learned the Hard Way: Joyce (Clippership) Alton

All professions have a learning curve and writing is no exception. Yet in writing more than other professions, you're on your own. It's a solitary job after all, which means important aspects of the task sometimes get missed. These posts will be a chance for writers to mentor other writers through their confessions of lessons they learned. Lessons that might have been as painful as a pencil poke in the eye.

I'm excited to kick this series off with the moderator of the Speculative Fiction Forum at AQC our leader, Joyce Alton. You might know her through her mod name of Clippership. Joyce blogs about speculative fiction at Yesternight's Voyage and you can find her on twitter.

Not All Ideas Are Strong Ideas

I’m a cautious person by nature. I’m not reckless, seldom spontaneous, and I like to do my research before sticking my neck out. So I had to sit and stew a bit about the topic of Lessons Learned the Hard Way. I’ve learned plenty over the years in regards to writing craft, dealing with others in the business, and I know I have lots more to learn. The thing is, it’s not as bad when you have that “duh!” moment alone than when someone else points it out or you’ve stuck your foot in your mouth publicly. Most of my learning moments are privately experienced, therefore, not so horrible to fix. One of the hardest realizations I had to come to terms with is that not all stories or ideas are worthy of publication or to put in front of others.

Like many of you, I began writing when I was very young. I was also an avid reader and I loved movies. You know how it goes: you read or see something and your imagination catches on fire. You’re thinking up your own spin on an idea, or meshing several unassociated ideas together. I filled notebooks and 3-ring binders with stories. I also kept several idea journals, an index card file, and a cross-referencing name and place file for every story. I drew some outrageously large maps. And I dreamed – a lot.

Years went by. One day I picked up my master list and read through the almost 200 completed and semi-completed story titles I had amassed. Life is finite. I had other dreams and goals aside from writing. Polishing and publishing that many stories? – um, probably not possible.

The list needed to be trimmed. You’d think that only the completed manuscripts would make the cut. Not so. When deeply analyzing and thinking about each story, I realized painfully, that some of these ideas filled a niche for me personally, but they weren’t for the public eye. I also had to consider the number of likely years a person gets and how long it takes to go through the writing and publishing process. Which ideas did I feel the most passionate about? Which ideas had beta readers loved most? Which ideas had more commercial appeal? The best characters? The most unique worlds?

I cut the list down to thirty-four. That was still being overly optimistic. Letting the other ideas slide into the back of my filing cabinet? – hard. I’d loved those ideas. Time, energy, and imagination went into each of them. Some of them were full drafts, others short summaries. The list is currently down to twenty-nine and I’m sure I still won’t get enough time to do those. I’ve had to prioritize, pulling up one of my strongest ideas to work on first.

I think there comes a time in every writer’s career where they have to face the fact that maybe it’s the story that is the problem. That maybe, it’s not strong enough for publication. Maybe it won’t have wide audience appeal. Maybe there’s not enough to it to make it stand out.

It’s been an eye-opener to research the publishing world. There are thousands of writers out there, each jostling to have their stories noticed. There are millions of rejections. Sometimes it’s because of subjectivity. Sometimes it’s because the story should be shelved. I’m not saying people should give up on their ideas, but there is a disillusionment that comes with being a writer. We grasp our stories with the fierceness of a pit bull and growl if anyone or anything points out the story’s weakness. We don’t want to hear or see that someone else thought of the same thing or something very similar. And certainly, everyone puts their own spin in their own fashion. As much as we hate to admit it, sometimes the difference isn’t that big.

Being a beta reader has helped me learn this as well. I can’t tell you how many stories and characters I’ve seen that sound too much like what someone else is doing, or which don’t stand out from what’s already been done. It’s not that the story’s execution was horrible or the writer has no talent. It’s the idea that is weak or underdeveloped. Sometimes a complete rewrite fixes the problem. Most of the time, it doesn’t. Not if the idea is weak.

I’ve had to face this myself. And since I’m a cautious person, I can promise you that I’m cutting the weaker ideas now before mentioning or showing them to anyone else. There’s nothing quite as humiliating and horrifying as having several people conk you over the head to break the disillusionment.

Kick off of Lessons Learned the Hard Way

The Speculative Fiction group at AQC is having a giant blog hopping, guest posting, crazy month in January. In honor of it, I've decided to kick off a new series of posts about writing lessons learned along the journey. Lessons that are sort of like being poked in the eye by a pencil but in a good way because they help you grow and make your writing better.

I've invited friends to post their favorite lessons on a range of subjects whether it is querying, writing, editing, or promotion. You'll be seeing those in the weeks ahead.

But first, I kicked it off with a post of my own painful journey. It wouldn't be fair to have my friends recount their own mistakes and not admit my own. You can see my version on TJ Loveless' blog. Please come by and leave a comment so I don't feel lonely. Thank you TJ for that great introduction and for opening your blog to me.