And let's also get one thing clear up front: there absolutely has to be a certain level of writing for a book to work, and I personally think the degree of writing quality in bestselling books is underestimated by many aspiring writers. I host page critiques because smooth and polished prose aids storytelling and in today's publishing world you need an extremely high degree of craft in order to be published.
Voice is one of the most difficult writing terms to define and pinpoint. We might know it when we see it, but what's voice made of, really? You hear so often that agents and editors want "new voices" and "compelling voices" and voice voice voice. So what is voice? How do you cultivate it? And how many rhetorical questions do you think can I fit into one post?Find out on Nathan's blog.
Voice, at its most basic level, is the sensibility with which an author writes. It's a perspective, an outlook on the world, a personality and style that is recognizable even out of context. You could drop randomly into a David Sedaris story or an Ernest Hemingway novel and probably guess the author within a few paragraphs because they have strong, unique voices. An author's voice is often imitated (think: Tolkien), but a truly original voice can never be duplicated.
So what makes a good voice? How do you cultivate one?
While I was away I was chatting with a friend who reads grants for a living, a job that bears some striking resemblance to query letter answering. And if you happen to be thinking about writing a grant at this very moment, I have a piece of advice for you: don't quote Gandhi.Read the rest.
Why?
Apparently everyone who applies for a grant quotes Gandhi! And while Gandhi is no doubt eminently quotable and no one will argue with his very uplifting and memorable sayings, reading Gandhi quote after Gandhi quote will steadily drive even the nicest grant reader insane.
- If you have a talent and passion for blogging: do that.
- If you enjoy Twitter and know the ins and outs: do that.
- If you are a great public speaker and love attending writers conferences: do that.
- If you have media connections and can utilize them: do that.
- If you love pounding the pavement and meeting with local bookstores to arrange signings and events: do that.
- If you are an amateur filmmaker on the side and have an idea for a killer book trailer: do that.
- If you think creatively and enjoy thinking of wacky publicity events: do that.
- If you are fabulously wealthy and you want to drop books from an airplane with $100 bills attached: do that, and please make sure to stop by San Francisco.
"The absolute most important advice I can give you is this: read and understand the fine print.
Know what you're entering. Know what happens to your work in the event you win (or even/especially if you don't win). Make sure you're completely comfortable with it.
For instance, in the event you win the Amazon Breakthrough contest, are you comfortable with a $15,000 advance and a completely non-negotiable publishing contract? (The fine print says you can't negotiate). Do you want to try for a better deal by going through the traditional publishing route and finding an agent?
There's no correct answer here: it's up to you. But make sure a) you know what happens when you enter/win and b) you can live with it. And think very long and very hard about anything that could tie up the rights to your work. And when in doubt: don't enter."
1. When you get your editorial letter/critique, steel your resolve, read it once, put it away, and don't think about it or act on it for at least a couple of days.
An editorial letter is kind of like a radioactive substance that you need to become gradually acclimated to over the course of several days. It needs to be absorbed in small doses and kept at arm's length and quarantined when necessary until you are able to overcome the dangerous side effects: anger, paranoia, excessive pride, delusions of grandeur, and/or homicidal tendencies. Should you find yourself experiencing any of these side effects, consult your writing support group immediately for an antidote.
It's hard to have your work critiqued, and it's tempting to take it personally. Just know that it's a normal reaction and in a couple of days you'll feel better. Once you've calmed down and are able to consider the changes without your heart racing: that's when you know you're ready to get working.
2. Go with your gut.
You don't have to take every single suggestion, and I'm often very glad when my clients don't listen to all of my suggestions and take only the best ones. If you don't agree with a change, big or small, it's okay to stick to your guns if you have a really good reason for it.
Only: make sure it's really your gut talking and not your lazy bone. Or your bull head.
And on that note...
3. Don't simply ignore the suggestions you don't agree with.
Often when someone makes a specific suggestion for a change to a certain scene or plot line you won't always agree with it and you'll throw up your hands and say there's no way you're going to make the change.
But! Even if you don't agree with the specific remedy the editor suggested, something prompted them to suggest the change, and that something could be an underlying problem that needs to be addressed, even if you don't agree with the one the editor proposed.
For instance, you may not willing to get rid of the homicidal bald eagle in your novel, even if your editor or critique partner suggests it. But surely there's something you can change to alleviate their concerns. For instance, the homicidal bald eagle may need to have a conscience.
4. Be systematic
Confronting a revision can be extremely daunting because of the Cascade Effect: when you change one plot point it necessitates two more changes so that the plot still makes sense after the change, which prompts still more changes and more and more. Ten or more changes can cascade from a single change, even a minor one.
In order to avoid Cascade Effect Terror, I find that it's helpful to work on only one change at time. Make the change, and then trace it through the book making all the necessary subsequent changes so that everything makes sense.
This way, instead of having to keep every single editorial suggestion in your head as you're moving your way sequentially through the manuscript you can be targeted and efficient with your revisions.
5. If you find yourself getting mad it's probably because your editor/critique partner is right.
Great suggestions are easy to accept: you usually smack your head and think, "Why didn't I think of that??"
Bad suggestions are easy to reject: you just think, naw, I'm not doing that.
I've found that when the suggestions make you mad, it's probably because they're right. Your brain is just having trouble admitting it.
6. Listen, listen, listen.
Easy to say. Tougher in practice.
As longtime blog readers know, I have a bit of a reality TV habit. I still watch Survivor (I know), I was a habitual The Hills watcher before our messy breakup, and I would very much like to be friends with Phil Keoghan from the Amazing Race, who seems like the type of person who would tell great stories at a cocktail party and then somehow convince everyone to join a contest to eat the most pretzels.
You might mistake this for idle time! No no no. I wasn't frying my brain and/or wasting my time watching these shows. Not. At. All. I was learning precious writing techniques. I was studying. Learning!
Behold: The things I learned about writing while watching reality television...
"The only way to stay sane in the business is to enjoy every step as you're actually experiencing it. Happiness is not around the bend. It's found in the present. Because writing is pretty great -- otherwise why are you doing it?"
-- Nathan Bransford, author and literary agent
So I thought I'd tackle the topic of submitting to editors without an agent. And I'll start by saying something you might not expect to hear from an agent: submitting to editors without an agent isn't always a bad thing!But first, and most importantly: there some serious perils involved that you should be aware of if you're considering submitting to editors directly.
The biggest: If you query a lot of editors simultaneously with your agent search you may be inadvertently killing the submission process if you eventually find an agent. This is because most agents I know won't resubmit to a publisher who has already considered a project, even if it was sent to the publisher unagented, and even if it subsequently undergoes a revision (unless the editor specifically asks).
Read the rest.
Here's an excerpt from his post on showing vs. telling:
My interpretation is this. With the understanding that "if it works it works," and there are always exceptions, in general: universal emotions should not be "told." Instead, we should be shown how the character is reacting to their feelings.
I'm of the opinion that we read books in order to get to know our fellow humans better. We are empathetic animals and are able to put ourselves in the shoes of characters, and thus, we have a pretty keen idea how we'd be feeling in any given situation the characters find themselves in. And emotions are universal: we all feel sad, angry, happy, emotional, etc. etc. But how we react to those emotions are completely and infinitely different. That's what we find interesting.
Being told that a character is "angry" is not very interesting - we're reading the book, we know his dog just got kicked, of course he's angry! It's redundant to be told that the character is "angry."
More interesting is how the character reacts to seeing his dog kicked. Does he hold it in and tap his foot slowly? Does he explode? Does he clench his fists?
Read the rest.
Rollins advises writers to ignore directions to send a one-page query to agents summarizing their work (though that's exactly what many agents say to do, for fear of their mailboxes overflowing). Submit 50 pages of your book and a synopsis of the rest: "Agents already have a bevy of authors, their cash cows, so it's hard for them to break out of their apathy to represent a new author ... your writing should be breaking through that wall."
