Category Archives: writing

I just sent the fourth version of the latest chapter in my WIP to one of my critique partners. That is, the fourth official version of the chapter. There are three earlier versions I saved as possible alternatives or had lines in them I liked but didn’t quite fit where they were and might be used later. There were many, many other versions where bits and pieces were added or deleted then brought in under one of the keepers. One only has so much capacity to save junk.

While rewriting and revising are part of the game, this particular chapter was a real PITA. No, it’s not the one I alluded to in my last post. That one comes later–though this one does have some sexual tension in it and a thwarted attempt at intimacy. But it wasn’t the sexual mechanics of the scene that kicked my butt and led to a week or so of musing and keyboard-to-head frustration.

Initially, the scene was one of simple seduction, of two characters finally getting a chance to act upon their mutual attraction. OK, not so simple, and I had some doubts about how the scene was working out, but that’s what crit partners are for. I’d always planned on the protagonist to stop things short of the actual sex act, thereby (I hoped) building the tension between the two leads until the big “first time together” scene later. But somewhere along the line, between the submission of the first draft to my crit partner and my re-reading of it, the protag’s motivation did a 180, going from reluctant snubber to pursuer. Crap. And the second character (yes, I’m intentionally being dodgy with information about them) did a 180 the other way, going from the one who gets snubbed to the one who backs off. And damned if it doesn’t work better. OK, I think it works better. Again, a job for my crit partners to tackle at this point.

Easy, right? If I could come up with the fact that they changed direction then their reasons should be obvious. But it wasn’t so easy. The relationship between the two develops along two different lines, with two different motivations for pursuit. When the two switched sides, I had to figure out why. Each character, each scene, each story, needs to have three things: goal, motivation, and conflict (Thank you, Debra Dixon!).

I thought I had these taken care of, but apparently not. I think I know my characters pretty well going into a story, but now and again they surprise me by not doing what I want them to do. I’m not a writer who *speaks* to her characters. I don’t have visions of them in my head stamping their wee feet at me with petulant little pouts on their full lips. I do see scenes play out in my head, like a mini movie, but the characters don’t talk to me directly. What happens is that scenes just don’t work. They read flat and boring. It’s like watching a movie on an ancient projector with a sticky feed; the film in my brain stutters and the action stops. I have to go back and rewind, figure out what was going on before that point in the story and what will be going on later. I’m not a strict plotter, so sometimes this happens at turning points that need to be addressed with more depth than I’d previously considered. Which is fine. Most of the time, I catch it before sending bits out to my CPs. This time, not so much. So I revised. And revised, and revised, and revised. And I think it’s a lot better than it was. Is it perfect? No, but that’s what my crit partners are for : )

And if this story is ever sold, chances are it will be revised again to some degree. But that’s fine too. Any agent or editor who wants to work with me and get me closer to publication is more than welcome to ask for revisions.

For those in the writing world, particularly the romance genre, whether your loves scenes are behind closed doors or not means a great deal about how you’re perceived as an author. There are certain names we associate with steamy romances, and can expect nothing to be held back when it comes to the bedroom (or boardroom, or pool house, or airplane restroom (which I could never understand seeing as there’s barely room for one person to do what they’re SUPPOSED to be doing in there, let alone two people having sex)) antics of the characters. Others build up the sexual tension to the point just before the deed then “close the door” and let the reader use her imagination. There are pluses to that, I assure you ; ) Still others are “sweet” and don’t have the characters even get to the bedroom door.

OK, so where am I going with this? Well, in my current WIP (which I’d rather not divulge details on at the moment), I have to decide if I want the door open or closed. The question of whether they’ll be in the bedroom has already been answered. But just how far do I take it? My other stories are more closed door, and if not closed, less detailed. Not “steamy” scenes, just brought to a simmer. Lately, however, I’ve been more inclined to have things spelled out.

Am I responding to the current trend of sexier books? Not consciously, I don’t think. When romances began showing a lot more skin (I know I’m behind the times here, so bear with me) I got nervous about my stories because I wasn’t writing or even considering including more graphic sex. Sure, there was romance, but I always stopped short of the act. I closed the door.

Now? My current characters aren’t just inclined to leave the door open but to kick it in, sell tickets, and include certain members of the audience (if you consider the reader as the audience, it isn’t a bad thing really). Where the hell did these people come from???? I know, I know. My head. Which, if you want to know the truth, makes me a tad nervous. How long have these folks been lurking there? I’m no prude, and I’ve read my share of erotic stories, but in the past the idea of WRITING them hasn’t been me. Well, I guess it’s me now. Or part of me at least.

So do I or don’t I? I know it’s difficult for anyone but my crit partners who have read the current story to answer that. And chances are they’re the only one’s who’ll read this anyway : ) My head tells me to follow my characters and the needs of the story, but I can go either way, really. And do I want to be this kind of writer? If I can do it well, then I might give it a shot. Maybe this is what I need to put out there to get published. I don’t know. But I live in a very small, mostly conservative town (perhaps I need to consider a pseudonym…), and I’d like my mother to be able to read my stories without feeling funny. She’s not into the steamier stuff. I don’t think….Um, Mom? Never mind, I don’t really want to know.

Dear Fellow Aspiring Writers;

Thanks for taking a break from the head-against-wall banging to visit. As someone in the same unpublished boat, I can completely understand your frustration at trying to get your work out there. I’ve been at this for more than a few years, longer than some and not as long as others, but believe me when I say I get where you’re coming from in regards to submitting and the responses received.

It’s the responses to responses I’m going to address here. You know what I mean. Whether we get the Five Minute Rejection (Did you even read my email???), the Eight Month or More Wait That May Be a Good Thing But is Finally a Rejection, or the No Response Assume It’s a Rejection Rejection, I beseech you, F.A.W., to not–let me repeat that–NOT respond to the editor or agent to whom you submitted.

It’s very unprofessional and makes you look bad. Agents and editors are in the business of requesting books they think will sell. They understand you’ve put blood, sweat and tears into your baby, but so have a gazillion others. As frustrating as a form rejection is, as unhelpful as you may see it (I know what you’re thinking: “If they’d only tell me WHY the story didn’t work, I could fix it!” It’s not that simple and most in the publishing business don’t have time to explain why their gut says no.), this is the way the writing life usually works. Deal with it. Rant to your friends, your dog, your teddy bear, or what have you, but don’t fire off an angry email or letter calling the agent/editor names or questioning his judgement or parentage. Just don’t.

I’ll admit, I’ve responded to the rejection on a full manuscript with a “thanks for the advice” note ONLY when the person I submitted to sent me a decently long letter telling my why she ultimately rejected it. I didn’t rant about how she was wrong, or beg her to reconsider if I promised to revise to her liking. No. I merely said I appreciated the detail of her reasons and acknowledged that few in her position were kind enough to take the time to do so. I wasn’t being a kiss-ass, I was sincere. Also, I figure if I ever want to resubmit another project at a later date, I’d rather be remembered as the writer who wrote a short note than the one who went off the deep end.

Why am I so passionate about this? No, not to put myself on the good side of agents and editors (it’s not like gobs of them will be seeing this), but for my own selfish reasons. You see, I’m almost always in a state of waiting for a response on some project or another, and one agent has plainly stated that they will not respond to equeries (my preferred method these days) because of the number of negative responses they’ve gotten in the past. So, if you submit to this agent, they only respond if they are going to request a partial or full. I can’t blame this person–no one wants to open their inbox to a bunch of whiny responses to rejections–but now I have to wonder if this agent is rejecting my work or merely taking a while to respond. And everyone KNOWS how WELL writers take waiting.

It’s oh, so frustrating for those of us who are mature enough to take the blows, dust ourselves off and get back up and write, to have to suffer the consequences of a writer or two or a dozen who just can’t take “no” for what it is. It’s not personal, people, it’s business. Acknowledge (in your own private, personal world, not to the rejecter) and move on to the next person on your submission list, or on to your next project. Threaten to quit. I think about doing just that when too many downs hit me all at once.

It’s not an easy thing, this writer’s life, and the rest of us would appreciate it if you didn’t make it any harder.

Thanks. Now get back to work.
Cathy

Living where we do, it’s a rare treat to have visitors. Since moving from our more accessible town to the current one this June, we’ve already been delighted by visits from friends from Oregon and my in-laws from eastern Washington. At different times, of course. Our house isn’t large enough to accommodate four extra adults. And during this last visit with the in-laws, we spent a good bit of it using only 1.3 of our 2 bathrooms. Don’t ask.

Both couples are very nice, very special people, and we wish their visits could have been longer, even though I get squat done on my writing : ) But I promised myself I’d be good and make up for it. So I’m off to make some hard copies of things I need to tweak. Hard copies because we’re on the go this weekend and I won’t be at my computer. Hopefully there will be some cool pics to share in the next post. Make sure to ask if I don’t.

My friend Jody has been asking (**koff** nagging**koff**) about the universe in which I’ve set my current WIP. When presented to her for sage advice and critique, one of her first questions was why had I set it in the world I did (it’s a non-Earth futuristic) when with a little effort (read: real world research) it could be a contemporary story? My initial answer, “Because I wanted it that way,” didn’t satisfy her. And rightly so. She brought up many valid points and made me explore aspects of the world that make my head hurt. But in a good way.

Even if the majority of the worldbuilding doesn’t hit the pages, it’s very important for a writer to understand the underpinnings of her universe. Why? For one, it adds depth. Bandying about futuristic or perceived futuristic terms and ideas isn’t enough. There has to be substance behind them. For another, because, as my mother says, G_d willing and the creek don’t rise, this story will get published at some point and someone, somewhere, will ask about a detail in the book. As the creator of that universe, I’d better have a more significant answer than “Um, I dunno” or “Because I wanted it that way.”

There are many blogs and sites about worldbuilding and such (just Google “worldbuilding” and you’ll get oodles of hits), so I won’t go into them here. Over at the Otherworld Diner blog, they’ve discussed this and are currently posting about characterization. Interesting insights and ideas, so go check it out.

Me? I’d better get back to work. With the help of Jody and my BFF Sharron, I’ve been exploring a strange, new world where no one has gone before. Not only is the setting richer (I hope), but the plot is deeper, twistier (I hope X 2). Now, I have to take notes from IM and phone conversations and incorporate them into the story. Not all of them, because I don’t want to write a travelogue of my world. I just want people to believe it exists long enough to then have to smack themselves on the head as a reminder that it doesn’t. And have to read the next book to get their “fix” : )

After a couple of weeks of walking our two dogs I’ve come to see them as two personalities that can be related to writing techniques.

When I walk the dogs, I keep them both leashed because one would hare off into the woods or lallygag behind while the other kept going in whatever direction we were headed, regardless if I were to twist an ankle or get mauled by a bear.

Holly, the Rottweiler/Golden Lab, is excited and anxious when we start on our walk. Her pace is brisk and she knows exactly where we’re going. Along the way, however, she starts looking all over the place and sniffing everything. Every sound, every bit of detritus requires investigation . Her pace begins to waver and I periodically have to tug her leash to keep her moving in the right direction.

She’s like me when, sometimes, as I’m writing a scene or chapter I’m distracted by ANYthing in my vicinity. (Oooh, something shiny!) It’s not that I’ve become disinterested in the story. Usually my most distraction-prone periods are when I’m stuck on what to do next, on how to get to the next plot point. Some would say I should just write whatever I can to get words on the paper then fix it later. Others would tell me to skip that part, write the next bit I DO know, and go back later. But like Holly, I diddle along, making a little progress but not really keeping on pace. I need someone to tug on my leash. OK, get the bondage images out of your heads, people. Or was that just in my head…?

On the other hand, Bailey, the Border collie/Lab cross, is a steady as she goes pacer. We start off at a nice clip and she rarely deviates from her path. She’ll look up when she hears something odd, but it doesn’t throw her off. She is willing, if not happy, to do our 15 minutes out then turn around and head back. No questions asked. I could let her off her leash and she’d stay relatively close, but she wouldn’t slow down.

I’m most like Bailey when I’m in that writing zone where I can crank out 14 or 16 pages in a day. Nothing except refilling my coffee or tea cup (and the resulting trips to the bathroom) distracts me. I’m in the groove, man, and nothing feels better. It’s like a runner’s high. OK, it’d be like a runner’s high if I were a runner, but you get the idea.

When called for, I can be as focused as Bailey on my objective. Here’s where we are, here’s where we want to go. OK, let’s move! But there’s something to be said for Holly’s technique. She’s very aware of her surroundings and often picks up on things Bailey misses (or perhaps ignores because it’s not in the Plan). I think she’s more of a creative dog, our Holly, possibly imagining things in the woods are there so she can have an excuse to run and explore. Not a bad trait, just not always conducive to getting the job done.

I can’t always channel Holly, or I’d never finish a book. But I don’t channel Bailey near enough either. I mostly find myself in the middle ground between the two, giving over to my more creative side now and again as I bound into the woods, but then getting down to business and parking my butt in the chair to write when I have to. In the end, I get the job done, but who says I can’t chase a squirrel now and again along the way?

Some how, some way, I’ve managed to lose my favorite compact dictionary. I know it’s in the house. I didn’t leave it behind during the move, that’s for sure, but where oh where are you little blue Webster’s????

Yes, I have other dictionaries. Mostly of the big, hardcover, smash-your-toe-if-you-drop-it variety, but my battered Webster’s has been with me for over 20 years. I got it before I started college, and it shows. The front cover is torn and scarred. The back cover and last few pages are loose. I keep it held together with a rubber band lest I lose the Z’s.

My love for words has been with me for as long as I can remember. I’d flip through dictionaries, picking random words, and learn their meanings, their origins. I was distraught to find no classes offered in Latin, Greek, or Old English at my high school. French helped, but not enough.

In college, I had to put aside my word-lust and focus on my major. Granted, I got a little more instruction in Latin and Greek as I memorized scientific names for every freakin’ duck that flew near North Dakota (and that’s a lot of ducks, let me tell you), but my leisure time for delving into dictionaries was limited.

After graduating and moving into the work force then into parenthood, I still loved to read, but never got back into looking up words for their own sake. Until I started to write. I rediscovered the joys of learning a new word, even if it didn’t make it into the manuscript. The thrill of clicking on my thesaurus tool or rifling through Roget’s and finding a different word than the one that initially came to mind and expressed the nuances of what I meant to say.

And my little blue Webster’s dictionary was always close at hand, an old friend I could rely on to show me the proper spelling of just about any word I could come up with. Oh, sure, I have spellcheck on my PC, but nothing beats the whisper of pages as I search the columns for that special word. Or the delight as my eye falls upon a new word that MUST be read before continuing. The rapid response of a click of the mouse is too fast to allow my brain to simultaneously search for words while mulling over the passages I just wrote.

I have my thesaurus here with me now, but it’s not the same. Oh, I know some will say a thesaurus is more important than a dictionary to a writer. But I say that’s just not so. My thesaurus is helpful, but it doesn’t tell me everything I want to know about words. If we could live with one or the other, why would they bother printing both? I want–need!–my dictionary.

I’ll find you, little blue Webster’s! I swear I will!

8/15 UPDATE: Little blue Webster’s has been found! Sadly, the Z’s managed to slip the rubber band and are torn beyond use. But despite that unfortunate loss, I will now be able to concentrate on my writing, knowing my faithful Webster’s is there to guide me!

My friend Jody and I were discussing blog topics. She had to come up with two and I suggested this one, but she told me I should do it. I’m not sure if that was a good thing or not. But being the gullible person I am, I said, “OK!”

So, here is an idea of what I’d do if I ever made the New York Times Best Sellers List:

1. Build a soundproof office with video monitoring of the rest of the house to see if the kids really were bleeding or on fire when they interrupted me.

2. Buy two copies of all my favorite books (new, not used!), donating one copy to my local library and keeping my own copy in my new, splendidly constructed home library.

3. Tell my spouse, “See? It was worth not having a ‘real’ job all those years.”

4. Actually pay my web goddess (though she’ll hit the list well before I do and no longer have to be my web goddess).

5. Recommend my fabulous unpubbed pals to my fabulous editor.

6. Travel extensively for research, even if my stories are set in other worlds. Hey, you need to get ideas from somewhere.

7. Use both sides of the paper when I’m making hard copy drafts not to save money but because it’s a good environmental practice to follow. (I do it now for both reasons.)

8. Burn the copies of those first manuscripts we all keep hidden under the bed or in the bottom drawer so I can’t be blackmailed or think about reworking them if I get writer’s block.

9. Convince my writer friends we need to collaborate on a series or anthology so we can all be wildly popular together.

10. Hire someone to come up with blog topics and perhaps even write them for me.

I have two stories in progress (actually, I have more than that, but these two are the most recent that bubbled into my brain) that have not been as vigorously tended to as they had in the past. I have a wealth of excuses: kids, household, moving household. But my biggest excuse is that I was stuck on a scene or contemplating what to do next. I’d sit and stare at the computer screen, or my notebook (the paper kind), or just off into space while my kids fought, and tried to tease out solutions. What I didn’t do was write.

Plotting-wise, I’m a pantser in the beginning, but pretty soon I know what direction I want to go, what scenes I want to have to tell the story. While this makes it easier to write (relatively), it also raises a certain amount casualness. It’s like watching your favorite movie over and over again. You love it, but even a beloved scene can be reduced to background noise if you get distracted. And I’ve been distracted a lot lately. Yes, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it: distracted.

But recently I had two breakthroughs on my projects (yay!), plot points that I hope will make sense and give them what they need to stand out in the crowd. When things like this come up for a writer the excitement is rekindled. We will delve into our work with a fury, revising earlier chapters to fit new twists, lay the groundwork for revealing characterization, incorporate subplots that add new dimensions. As long as it doesn’t totally bung up the story we’ve been working on thus far. We’re excited, not masochistic.

I don’t know where these bits of inspiration come from. Perhaps from letting my mind wander while doing dishes, or from reading. I couldn’t tell you. I wish I could control the erratic wench that is my muse. But I do know this: she’s been on a long vacation and it’s time for her to get her scrawny ass back to work. Crack!

Okay, gotta write.

Every writer out there understands what it’s like to wait, and wait, and wait for an answer to a query or a request. It’s the nature of the business, and some of us take it better than others. I fluctuate between forcibly ignoring the time when I know the mail is due to arrive to glancing out the window every five minutes.

The old axiom “No news is good news” does not apply to a writer. We obsess over whether our query actually made it to the appropriate party in the first place. Did we have the proper address? Did it get lost in the mail or in cyberspace? We obsess over whether said party is so engulfed with queries that ours is at the bottom of a HUGE pile that may not be seen until the next calendar year. We obsess over whether our SASE was properly stamped, especially when rate hikes hit while our material is still out there. We obsess over whether the SASE was lost or properly addressed. Yes, I have been known to print out an envelope addressed to me with the incorrect address. Luckily, I caught it before sending it out, but I bet sometimes things like that get missed.

I have no problem with rejections. Okay, they aren’t my favorite pieces of mail, but at least I know the outcome and can tick that agent or editor off my list. When I don’t get a response within the stated guidelines of the entity’s website, I don’t panic. With the busyness of agents and editors I rarely receive a response within the time they claim. And that’s okay. I accept that and don’t begrudge them the time they need. When it stretches into twice the time, I get nervous. Usually by then I’ve zapped an email asking if my query arrived. Most have responded in a timely manner to that. Not necessarily in a “send me your full manuscript” or “we want you” manner, but a response nonetheless.

I’ve learned a lot about patience since starting this writing thing. Oh, I don’t claim to have it, but I’ve learned a lot about it. I’ve decided it’s a bit like being pregnant. Lots of anticipation and excitement, lots of anxiety over the arrival. But when you’re pregnant, you know that in roughly 40 weeks you’ll have something to show for your efforts. While waiting for a response to a query, you could have become pregnant, had the baby and watched it take its first steps until the mailman coughs up your SASE.

Also, while you’re pregnant you are urged not to drink. While waiting for a response you are essentially expected to drink.

In the wise words of Miss Snark, I will quit obsessing and write well.

Okay, so I’ll write well, anyway.