The Art of Perseverance

My guest blogger today is Gina Robinson, author of Spy Candy, who persevered, and is now a published author. Congratulations, Gina!

The Art of Perseverance
by Gina Robinson

With the release of my debut novel Spy Candy ( Zebra Romantic Suspense, $3.99, ISBN 978-1-4201-0472-1)just weeks away, I’ve been asked to be a guest on a number of blogs. Because it took me years and years…and still more years to become published, talking about perseverance has become my theme. But as I was thinking about perseverance the other day, I realized that I don’t want people to get the wrong impression. To reach the goal of publication, a writer can’t give up. That’s true. Who knows when the call will finally come? But more than that, they can’t stay the same, either.

Persistence is not revising the same manuscript over and over and over, even when it’s been rejected all over New York. Persistence is also not stalking the same editor or agent from conference to conference, query to query, trying to sell them on that same tired old manuscript. Persistence isn’t trying to convince the world that you’ve written the next great bestseller and certain classic and berating the world when they don’t realize it. That’s insanity.

The art of perseverance requires growth. The writer must start a new manuscript, taking what’s been learned on the first and building on it to write a better novel, to discover their unique voice. The writer must look at the market objectively, broadening their search to include new agents, new editors, to take new chances.

Perseverance is a far greater thing than banging on the same door again and again. It’s believing in yourself, your own unique talents and skills, your worth as an individual, and your passion for storytelling. It’s writing for the sheer joy of it, even when it feels like publication will never happen. When you write for the joy of it, magic happens. You’ll feel passion, not frustration. And whether or not you’re lucky enough to ever publish, you’ll be content and have the drive to never give up on yourself. You will truly persevere.

Gina Robinson’s debut novel, Spy Candy, will be available everywhere books are sold on November 4, 2008.

On Writing: Finding the Words

I always thought I would be an author. I loved reading, and I had an affinity for words. I would spend days perfecting a six line poem, finding the perfect word to say what I meant, finding the perfect layout so the visual aspect of the poem adding to the meaning. I also wrote short allegories (that masqueraded as children’s stories). But what I really wanted to do was to write a novel. So I quit my job, stocked up on paper on pens (this was pre-PC), and sat down to write the story of a love that transcended time and physical boundaries, told with sensitivity and great wisdom. To my dismay, I discovered I had an appalling writing style, little wisdom, and absolutely no talent.

Back then I thought that to be a writer, one let the words flow from mind to pen to paper, like a medium transmitting messages from the spirit world. (Puts a whole new meaning on the word medium used as a vehicle for ideas!) But few words came to me. And the ones that did come, conveyed little of the story I wanted to tell.

And then one day no words came. Gone out of my head. Kaput. I lived with that sadness until many years later when I decided that, talent or no talent, I would write. So I did. I put one word on the page and then another. To my surprise, I finished the novel, but it is so terrible that I do not include it when I count the number of books I have written. (It’s a novelized version of my life, written more as therapy than literature, with a single benefit — I no longer have any desire to put myself in any of my books.)

After that, I started to read books about writing, which depressed the heck out of me because I couldn’t understand half of what they said. Rising conflict? Show don’t tell? Beats? The information gradually seeped into my subconscious, and so I learned.

After starting my fifth novel (or sixth if one counts that first autobiographical one) I discovered the internet and so wasted my words on commenting and blogging and emails, which is why I declared October as MyNoWriMo (My Novel Writing Month.) Unlike NaNoWriMo in November, MyNoWriMo does not require me to write 50,000 words in the month. The words do not flow out of me; I have to pull them out one by one. What I do expect from MyNoWriMo is to get back into the habit of writing, to find again the joy in building a story word by word.

And it’s working. Last night, for the first time in months, I felt that excitement of being in the story. I only wrote about 500 words (typical for me) but they are good words. I can hardly wait for tonight!

Finding a Reason to Write

Okay, here I am. The fourth day of My Novel Writing Month. I take a deep breath, trying to remember why I wanted to write, why I needed to.

Several years ago, when I couldn’t find the books I liked anymore — story and character driven novels that can’t be slotted easily into a genre — I decided to write my own. The one obvious flaw to this reasoning is that if publishers weren’t publishing non-genre novels written in a genre style (as opposed to a “literary” style), then how did I expect them to publish my books? But I did. And they didn’t. When I’d written (and rewritten) four novels, adding another didn’t seem compelling. Four unpublished novels were bad enough, but five seemed . . . pathetic.

Now that two of those novels are about to be published by a small press with looser definitions of genre than the multi-national publishers, I am down to two unpublished books. And all of a sudden, that seems too few. So now I have the need to write, and I have the itch, but I am out of the habit.

That’s what MyNoWriMo is supposed to give me — not the 50,000 words necessary to complete NaNoWriMo, but the habit of writing.

So here I sit, waiting for the words to come, and they do. But not the right ones.

I’m supposed to be getting my hero back to his neighborhood (after finally letting him stop running from the volcano), yet here I am, writing about writing rather than writing. Though I suppose it depends on one’s definition of writing, because technically, I am writing. Or am I blogging? Either way, I am not working on my novel.

So, I got the poor guy away from the volcano, let him drink his fill at an hour-old river, let him indulge in a bit of light-headed musing (after all, it’s been months since I fed the poor guy), and now he’s on his way home.

The shadows are lengthening, and in this strange new apocalyptic world, anything can happen . . .

Diatribing Show-n-Tell — My opinion on writing

Karl C. Klein, today’s guest blogger and the author of Unnatural Girl, soon to be published by Second Wind Publishing, has consented to show and tell his views on writing:

I’m new to writing. I don’t have the benefit of a formal education. I’ve not been writing since before I born, having grabbed the doctor’s pen soon after sliding into the world, scribing some Hemingway-ese prose on my swaddling blanket.

I’m a newbie, a neophyte, a rookie, a babe, a novitiate, a novice, newcomer, fledgling, tenderfoot and a greenhorn.

I’m wet behind the ears.

I’ve been reading many critiques over the past couple years to the point where my teeth want to turn around in my head and eat my brain. (Normally I say “until my eyes bleed,” but since I’m going to climb all over cliches, I thought I’d use something fresh).

If we feel the need to suggest that someone not ‘tell’ but rather ‘show’ his or her story, he or she is not to have clue what we’re talking about. (Remember, I’m a neophyte, an outsider who doesn’t know the jargon.)

“Critics too often forget they’re supposed to help, not hurt.” Lewis Black, from his book.

“Show not tell” has become a cliche, something else a writer should avoid. On some critiques, I can see the critic with her chin raised, slashing at the air like swatting flies.

I have never in any of my critiques used the expressing in any way: “show not tell,” or in any form.

I think the writer, when told something like this, should ask: “Why?” and get a better answer than: “Agents and Publishers say so.” We can and should ask why if we don’t understand and we should demand an answer.

Here’s my general advice to writers seeking their voice (when we begin writing, that’s what we do in a long, painful process — we seek our voice, which is not to be mistaken with the generic voice ‘agents and publishers’ would like to mold their writers)

This applies to third person, but much to first person, too.

Let me get this out of the way:

Don’t preach — ever. If you want to make some spiritual, religious or social point, write an essay. It’s fine for your characters to have a point of view, but keep it real. (Which is not to say the story shouldn’t make a point — even my parabolic stories look like the message is incidental).

(here’s the show and tell in a way that’s easily understood):

Let your characters tell the story. In third person, I don’t want to hear nothing from the narrator. No opinions and no hyperbole. Nothing will set my teeth on edge quicker than in 3rd person the narrator stating: “She was beautiful!”

I think in the million and a half words I’ve committed to manuscript, I’ve used ten exclamations marks. Again, ‘showing.’

If you unfurl your scene clear and sharp, the characters should show the reader everything the reader needs to know without ‘stage direction’ (telling) or what I call “movie scripting.”

I say it this way: Have faith in your reader.

1) Don’t preach
2) Let the characters tell the story
3) Have faith in the reader
4) Avoid movie scripting
5) Avoid wordiness
6) Don’t default (assuming stereotypes as universal concepts)

Telling:
John walked into the room, approached the table, greeted Sally and sat on the chair. Sally greeted him back and asked if he’d had breakfast. John wasn’t one for breakfast, but knew it was polite to accept something offered. He told her no. She asked if he wanted eggs.

Better:
“Hi, Sally.” John dropped to the chair.
“Good morning. Had breakfast?”
“Nope.”
“Eggs?”
“Love ’em?”
“How do you like them?”
“Hell, I like ’em fine!.”

There’s a best kept secret rule in writing:.

Only one point-OH-view per paragraph. If you keep this rule in mind, you can cut out 96% of your ‘saids, asks, questioned,’ etc. Why do you wish to do that? I’m glad you asked.

If you look at the dialog above, you that see no ‘saids’ are needed. The quotes indicate direct speech and the way I laid this out, it’s obvious who’s saying what. Said’s would merely be wordy and get in the way. When reading, MOST people skip them anyway.

next line:

Sally got up from her chair.

“from her chair” is wordy. We can have faith in the reader to know she was sitting on a chair.

Sally stood.

When I do a critique, if I find the writing heavy with movie scripting, I’ll copy-n-paste a few paragraphs and mark in red what I find wrong, then rewrite the section, explaining each suggestion and why I feel it makes the writing better.

Needless to say, I invest a great deal of time in my critiques.

Good writers work in groups. Great writers work alone.

Free Exclamation Points for Everyone!!!

In celebration of National Punctuation Day (it was four days ago, but who’s counting?) I’m giving away exclamation points to everyone to use as you wish. Or better yet, to not use.

During an online discussion about punctuation, a participant said she wanted one basic rule for exclamation points. My response: “If you want just one rule for exclamation points? Don’t use them.” We get so used to flinging exclamation points around in online comments and emails that we think they belong everywhere, but an exclamation point is often an unnecessary elbow nudge.

“Oh, how fun.”

“Oh, how fun!”

“Oh, how fun,” he exclaimed.

“Oh, how fun!” he exclaimed.

The exclamation in the first example is understood, so a period works just fine. The middle two examples are gramatically correct, though they do tend to poke you in the side to make sure you get the point. The exclamation point in the fourth example is redundant if you use the speaker attribute. And the speaker attribute is telling something we already know if you use the exclamation point. Of course, pointing this out will not change your ways; despite rules and helpful hints, we all have our own quirks when it comes to punctuation, and as I learned during the discussion, we will argue our points even when proven wrong.

So, use or do not use your free exclamation points. They are yours. A gift from me.

How Do You Choose? Or Why I Wrote This Novel

DeLauné Michel, author of Aftermath of Dreaming and The Safety of Secrets, has graciously agreed to guest host my blog today. Michel says:

I was at a dinner party once when someone threw a question out to the group, “If you were stranded on a deserted island, would you rather be stuck with a man or a woman?”

My first response was, “A man, of course.” But then I started to think about it. And as much as I love my husband, I can talk to my best friend in a way that I never can with a man because I know she has felt exactly the way I have. But I still need my husband, so whom would I chose?

After I got married, a significant friendship in my life underwent a shift. It was as if just by signing that paper and walking down that aisle, things with my friend had changed, even though I really hadn’t, other than the option of Mrs. that I didn’t even use! As my friend and I struggled to get our friendship back, and to redefine what it meant, it forced me to think about that question, about being torn between a husband and a best friend. I wondered what sort of situation would make a woman be more loyal to her best friend than to her husband. Maybe a childhood trauma locked away with a life-long pact to never tell? And what if a woman lied to her husband to protect that secret? Could that ever be okay?

I realized that I didn’t know the answers to those questions, and that’s when I knew that they were the basis for my second novel. I wanted to explore deep-rooted loyalty between women, and how sometimes it can be a sword that cuts both ways, opening up whole worlds of safety within the friendship while exacting a price, as well.

When I started looking at loyalty, I also had to look at betrayal. And it occurred to me that one currency of intimacy in a best friendship is shared secrets, so I wanted to see what would happen to that relationship when its most powerful secret is given away, and given away thoughtlessly, like so many pennies dropped on the floor. There is such stark and deep knowledge of one another in an ages old friendship that I wondered about how some secrets are used to protect ourselves, while others are used to try to continue to be the person we think our best friend needs.

Then I realized that if there is any world in which secrets are at a premium, it is Hollywood. All of that shielding and hiding are essential tools in that town. I think one trait that distinguishes stars from other actors is their ability to appear completely exposed while in fact they presenting only and exactly what they want us to see. I felt that making my main characters, Fiona and Patricia, actresses in LA (though part of the novel occurs in flashbacks in south Louisiana where they grew up; I can’t let go of my roots!) would deepen their connection to secrets and revealing truths. Besides, my first novel, Aftermath of Dreaming, was mostly set in Los Angeles, and after living there for so long, I wasn’t ready to leave such a rich and provocative backdrop yet.

By working through Fiona and Patricia’s friendship in The Safety of Secrets, I learned a lot about loyalty and secrets between women. But I still have more to go. If you get a chance to read it, I’d love to hear what you think about how those issues play out in the book and in your own life.  And if I’m in your area on my book tour, come by and tell me in person. I’m traveling to Portland, LA, Albuquerque, Santa Fe, pretty much all of Louisiana, Jackson MS, Natchez, Memphis, Boston, Newburyport, and the New York area. The tour schedule is on my gather page.

Oh, and who would you chose for that desert isle, a woman or a man? Or is it a secret you’ll never tell?

Happy Bloggiversary to Me!

Exactly one year ago today, I wrote the first post for Bertram’s Blog:

Am I an aspiring writer? I have written 4 books, rewritten them, and will continue rewriting them until they are perfected.

No. I am not an aspiring writer. I am aspiring to be a published writer.

I wrote that post in response to a question on Author’s Blogs, a directory for . . . ta da . . . author’s blogs. I had to categorize myself as “published writer” or “aspiring writer”, and since I wasn’t published, I could only choose aspiring writer. Here I am, a year and 179 blog posts later, still aspiring to be a published writer. I am closer today than I was a year ago, or if not closer, at least readier to take on the job of self-promotion when the need arises. And I am still trying to perfect those books.

One thing I never expected, when I set up Bertram’s Blog, is how much I like writing and publishing my articles. I feel safe here, away from the ratings rampage of other sites, and it gives me the freedom to say what I want. I don’t write about controversial topics, so I don’t have the viewers that other blogs do, but still, the last couple of months I’ve been getting almost a hundred hits a day. Not bad for someone who didn’t even know what blogging was a year ago.

One mistake I made was in tagging my posts. I tagged with search engines in mind but didn’t think to tag them for my own use. I’ve posted many articles about my work-in-pause (can’t call it a work-in-progress if it’s not progressing), and I’d like to reread those articles, but I never tagged them WIP. So, in celebration of my bloggiversary, and to have a home for future articles and research pertaining to my WIP, I started a new blog, Dragon My Feet.

A fitting gift for a bloggiversary.

Writing Dialogue

Dialogue is not conversation. It is an artificial construct that gives the impression of spontaneous and realistic speech without the ums and ers and repetition and stuttering and sidetracks into inanity that characterizes normal conversation. Dialogue shows the relationship between characters, and ideally should be so effective that any analysis of the relationship is unnecessary. 

Elizabeth Bowen, a British author, writes: “What are the realistic qualities to be imitated (or faked) in novel dialogue? Spontaneity. Artless or hit-or-miss arrival at words used. Ambiguity (speaker not sure, himself, what he means.) Irrelevance. Allusiveness. Erraticness, unpredictable course. Repercussion. 

“What must novel dialogue, behind mask of these fake rrealistic qualities, really be and do? It must be pointed, intentional, relevant. It must crystallize situation. It must express character. It must advance plot. During dialogue, the characters confront one another. The confrontation is in itself an occasion. Each one of these occasions, throughout the novel, is unique. Since the last confrontation, something has changed, advanced. What is being said is the effect of something that happened; at the same time, what is being said is in itself something happening, which will, in turn, leave its effect.” 

Dialogue also characterizes the speaker; we can tell who a character is by what that character says and how he or she says it. Each character the main character interacts with should bring our a different facet of the character. You generally don’t speak the same way to your boss and your best friend, your mother and your spouse. 

Sometimes when people talk to others, especially when they accuse the other person of doing or behaving in a certain way, they are talking to themselves. So, in effect, what a character says to another or about another reveals the character’s inner thoughts. Like dreams. Didn’t Freud say that all characters in a dream are facets of the dreamer? 

So how do you write good dialogue? 

Make speeches short.
Have speakers cut in on one another.
Answer a question with a question.
Ignore questions, or answer it after another exchange of words.
Instead of a character answering a question directly, have him tell why it was done: “Did you eat the cookie?” “They looked so good.”
Have characters play tug-of-war with words, each trying to get something from the other.
When editing, review every snippet of speech and ask yourself, “Is this the best, the wittiest, the most dramatic thing the character can say?” Dialogue is not life. In life, most of us can’t think of the perfect response until it is way too late. But in writing you can take your time and make each bit of dialogue a jewel. 

A perfect bit of dialogue from the seventh century: 

A foreign conquerors sent the Laconians a message: “If I come to Laconia, not one brick will stand on another.” 

The laconic reply? “If”.

Where Do You Insert Dialogue?

Someone asked me where they should insert dialogue into the novel they were writing. I went blank for a moment, unable to comprehend the question. Insert dialogue? To a great extent, dialogue is the story.  The most personal way people interact is by dialogue, and a story is or should be about people interacting,  about relationships. Even  action-oriented stories come down to a basic relationship: the hero vs the villain. 

A better question might be where to insert exposition, but even that is a specious question. Nothing in a novel should be inserted. Each element should flow one into the other, making a cohesive whole. I’ve heard people say that they’ve finished writing their novel, now all they have left is to go back and insert the symbolism. If you have to insert something for the sake of inserting it, it’s better to leave it out. Symbols, like other elements should flow out of the story. 

Novels need to balanced. Dialogue interspersed with exposition or action makes for a more interesting story than dialogue or exposition or action alone. A novel that is mostly dialogue seems lightweight; a novel with too much exposition feels heavy-handed; a novel that is all action gets boring after a while. 

One way to make sure the elements flow together is to know what you are trying to accomplish. What kind of story are you writing? What is your story goal? What is your premise? What is the core conflict? Once you know the core of your story, you can make sure every element connects to it. Sometimes you won’t know the core until you’ve finished the first draft. In which case, just write, let the words flow out of you and into the story. Then, when the draft is finished, read it to see what you have. Do any themes jump out at you? What is the gist of the story (the core conflict)? How can you use the various story elements help you bring out that conflict? Does every action have a reaction? Does every reaction have a cause? Which element will bring the conflict into sharper focus? If a particular conflict is a physical one, then action interspersed with terse comments is best. If a particular conflict is personal, then dialogue interspersed with bits of action is best. 

Where to insert dialogue, then, is not the real question. The real question is what do you want to say, and how do you want to say it?

A Writer Writes. Always?

A writer writes. Always.

Or so they say. (Whoever “they” are.) Many professional authors write for six months a year and spend the other six months promoting. This does not make such writers less than those who doggedly sit down every day and churn out a quota of words. A writer writes, of course. But always? So much goes into writing — thinking, outlining, researching, learning the craft — that it’s hard to tell when a writer is not working. 

I’m one of those writers who carry on imaginary conversations with my characters. I always plan to jot  down these conversations , but I usually have them when I am out walking, and by the time I get home, most of them are out of my head. A lot comes back when I sit down to write, and some of those conversations end up in the story.  Are these conversations writing? Of course not. But they are part of the writing process.  It is the process, the focus– getting into the story and staying there, keeping it in the back of our minds when we are doing other things, filtering our lives through the mesh of the story — that makes us writers, not simply word counts. 

Does writing this article count as “a writer writes; always”? Probably not. But I am writing, and writing this blog helps me focus my thoughts. Is editing considered writing? I don’t know. Still, I’ve been going through my finished manuscripts once more, taking out all the bits that fail to support the focus of the story, and  now those novels are better focused on the theme. But that editing cuts into my writing time. Does researching book marketing techniques count as writing? I doubt it, but writers who intend to be published one day need to know how to promote their book. All these things that take me away from my work-in-progress help focus my life around writing. Help focus my attention on writing. 

Maybe a better way of describing a writer is” a writer writes, and when a writer isn’t writing, a writer is focused on writing.”