When I first started writing novels, I didn't edit them. I just wrote, and whatever hit the page seemed so wonderful to me that I wouldn't touch it. Having to use white-out on my typed pages may have contributed; I can't stand the smell of the stuff. But I was also a kid, and like all kids I was too wrapped up in the wonder of creating my little gems to consider polishing them.
I've had no formal education as a writer, so reading other writers' books was the way that I learned my work wasn't anywhere near professional quality. Through comparisons, I began to see where I was dropping the ball, and how I could do it differently. Happily I never got into the habit of sporadic, free-for-all editing during the writing process. I would write something, and only when it was finished would I mess with it.
I believe editing styles and methods can be as individual as the writing side of things. I am also not a believer in endless editing; I think it can lead to way too much second-guessing and getting caught in rewriting loops. So the usual disclaimer: of what follows, try it to see if it works for you; if it doesn't, try something else.
The first part of my editing process is what I mentioned during the writing phase: each evening I do a light edit on the new material I've written that day. This is very quick, one-shot editing. I read through the work on screen, and make word, phrase and placement changes as I go along. Mentally I'm still in the writing mindset: I'm not hating the work, or myself, or poisoning everything with doubt; I'm just cleaning it up.
I do a final spelling and grammar check, make those changes, save the edited file, and I'm done. I won't read or edit that portion of the book again until the entire novel is finished. Yes, this takes a certain amount of self-discipline and the temptation to back read and re-edit is always there. Some people enjoy doing that; it seems to serve as a reassurance to them. I'm too impatient to keep doing things over; I want to reach the finish line.
Once I've written a complete first draft of a novel, as with polishing a proposal, I try to put a little time and distance between me and the manuscript. Six months away from it would be ideal, but I don't have that luxury anymore. Generally I take two or three days off from working on it. When I'm ready, I print out a hard copy of the manuscript, grab a highlighter and a red ink pen, find a quiet, comfortable spot, and start the final read-through and edit phase.
I read through the manuscript one time, using the highlighter as I go to slash words, sentences, paragraphs and whole pages. I highlight typos, grammatical errors, repeated words, poor word choices, things I find myself skimming through versus reading, and things that for whatever reason don't hit me the right way. I also look at things more intangible -- am I getting too wordy, not wordy enough, how's my flow, have I been consistent, is my voice in this genre coming through, that sort of thing.
This is the stage when I finally let myself get emotional about the work. I release my internal editor, and take it from me, that bitch is nasty, demanding, and merciless. She decides if I've captured my vision of this story. She jumps on my trouble areas (writing description and emotion give me the most trouble, and I know I tend to skimp or skip in both areas, so my internal editor looks for that.) If she hates something, I slash it with the highlighter. If she really hates something, I line through it with the red pen.
When the internal editor and I are done the first pass, she goes away and I take a break for at least twelve hours. I shift back into writer mode, and think about the major changes and how I want to handle them. I kick myself a few times, and then I let it go. I do try to learn something from each edit -- as in, how can I avoid that problem with the next book I write?
When I go back to the manuscript, I start correcting things. Small corrections I make on the page, major changes I'll rewrite from scratch. I do this mainly on the hard copy, but I will type up large sections of revised work on the computer and clip the new pages to the old ones.
When the hard copy corrections are complete, I do a type-in to revise the manuscript file, print that out, and do a final read-through. I used to do this on the computer, but I wear trifocals now and paper is a bit easier on my eyes. The final read-through is just for typos or errors the revisions may have caused, so this one is light, like my daily new material edit.
When the final read-through is finished, I do the last type-in, print out the novel manuscript, and box it up to ship it out.
Showing posts with label how I write novels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label how I write novels. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Novel VI: Write
When I've finished visualizing and I'm ready to write the novel, the only non-writing task left is to work out a per-day word quota that will allow me to finish the book one to two weeks prior to deadline.
From there it's not real complicated. I sit down and write the book.
While I'm writing the book I do not back-track to read and mess with what I've written, edit or rewrite the new material as it lands on the page, change my mind about the story, hate myself, hate the work, avoid the work, wait for the planets to align correctly before I write, let my inner rabid bitch off her leash, wonder how what I write will affect the reader, worry about the state of my soul, chakrahs or ego, or otherwise railroad myself.
My apologies in advance to the writers who do any/all of the above. My methods are a professional necessity, because honestly I could not handle what you do in order to write a novel.
I do mentally review each scene as I've visualized it before I write it, but in reality, I don't think much at all when I write. Snicker all you want, but it's true. Being overly conscious of what I'm doing slows me down, so I shift into auto. I also complain about this phase of the work, because it is the grunt phase, and I resent being turned into a typist. At the same time, it can be fun, in the feel-the-burn sense. When I'm writing at top speed and I get into it, I'm like song says, a steel town girl on a Saturday night.
While I write, I hit my wordcount quotas or go over them every day. This started as a goal and became a work ethic for me. If I want a day off from the schedule, I write above and beyond the quota and buy myself time. The only way I won't make quota is if a medical or family emergency intervenes, and then I make it up at the next possible opportunity. Writing completely absorbs me, too, so clocks with obnoxious-sounding alarms are a big necessity around here.
I write new material in the mornings and afternoons, and do a light edit on that material in the evening. The editing portion I'll describe for you when I get into Novel part VII, aka Letting the Inner Rabid Bitch Off Her Leash.
This is the way I write until the book is finished. I wish I could make it sound more important and involved than it is, but that's it.
From there it's not real complicated. I sit down and write the book.
While I'm writing the book I do not back-track to read and mess with what I've written, edit or rewrite the new material as it lands on the page, change my mind about the story, hate myself, hate the work, avoid the work, wait for the planets to align correctly before I write, let my inner rabid bitch off her leash, wonder how what I write will affect the reader, worry about the state of my soul, chakrahs or ego, or otherwise railroad myself.
My apologies in advance to the writers who do any/all of the above. My methods are a professional necessity, because honestly I could not handle what you do in order to write a novel.
I do mentally review each scene as I've visualized it before I write it, but in reality, I don't think much at all when I write. Snicker all you want, but it's true. Being overly conscious of what I'm doing slows me down, so I shift into auto. I also complain about this phase of the work, because it is the grunt phase, and I resent being turned into a typist. At the same time, it can be fun, in the feel-the-burn sense. When I'm writing at top speed and I get into it, I'm like song says, a steel town girl on a Saturday night.
While I write, I hit my wordcount quotas or go over them every day. This started as a goal and became a work ethic for me. If I want a day off from the schedule, I write above and beyond the quota and buy myself time. The only way I won't make quota is if a medical or family emergency intervenes, and then I make it up at the next possible opportunity. Writing completely absorbs me, too, so clocks with obnoxious-sounding alarms are a big necessity around here.
I write new material in the mornings and afternoons, and do a light edit on that material in the evening. The editing portion I'll describe for you when I get into Novel part VII, aka Letting the Inner Rabid Bitch Off Her Leash.
This is the way I write until the book is finished. I wish I could make it sound more important and involved than it is, but that's it.
Novel V: Visualize
Back in March I talked about how I pitch a novel. What happens after I pitch depends on two things: if the editor wants to buy the book and if the offer is acceptable.
A few words on the offer -- I am not an advocate of huge, make-or-break advances. Luckily I started out with a $5K advance per novel, which tends to keep your expectations realistic. My advances presently average out to about $21.5K per book, which matches what my average sell-through earns. I prefer to be paid by the numbers, because my sales are slowly but consistently growing larger from one book to the next, and so should my income. An advance based on my actual sales performance also virtually guarantees the publisher won't lose money on the novel.
Once I've got the sale and the deal nailed, I've got the green light to make book. It's time to move into the construction phase of the novel process. I've already done the imagining, researching, and outlining for the novel, and I probably have at least a hundred pages of it written as part of the pitch, so everything is ready to go.
When you build a house, you don't start building right away. You need a dream, a plan, and backing, then build. Before I can build, though, I need to see the house in my head. So this is when I visualize the novel.
I've tried to explain this see-the-novel-in-my-head a million times and it inevitably comes out sounding stupid. Evidently few to zero writers think in non-existent movies about unwritten novels, but that's what I do. I cast the story with characters I can see in my head, and then I run them through the story in scenes that play out in loops that I alter and rerun until they work. I also find a song or songs to play as theme music while I'm doing all this mental choreography, and I will listen to that song/songs every time I work on the visualization.
Example: Think of a Desperado-era Antonio Banderas, only not as well-dressed or groomed. Got that image? That's Thierry Durand in my head. Think of a malnourished, non-sparkling Ashley Judd. That's Jema Shaw. In this scene, these two are going to meet for the first time.
Put Thierry on the stone balcony of a mansion with snow falling around him at night. Everything is dark winter blue and cold moonlight. Have him pick the hook-and-eye lock on the balcony door with a curved dagger.
Move Thierry into the room, where Jema is huddled under an old Jacob's ladder patterned patchwork quilt. Have him breathe in and smell old books, flowers, and candle wax. He sees the kerosene lamps and antique furnishings, but to Thierry, they look like junk. Have him approach the bed and look down at Jema. See his shadow fall over her. See her eyes moving under her eyelids as she dreams in REM sleep. Now watch him reach out one hand toward her face, and how that shadow falls over her face.
That's my visualization for the beginning of that scene. I've already visualized the rest and tweaked it until I was satisfied with exactly what happens from the time Thierry steps into that room until he slips back out into the night. Once I have a scene like this one worked out in my head, I move onto the next scene. I visualize that and add it onto the previous scene. They become a series of scenes, and then chapters, and finally the book.
One important exception: I don't imagine dialogue in any of my visualized scenes. For me, dialogue comes out on the page better if I don't rehearse it. So while I know what needs to happen in this scene, and I have an idea of what Thierry and Jema are going to say to each other, I don't worry about nailing it down now. I only have to see the characters and the choreography.
Music helps me enormously with this part of the process, and most of the time I choose one or two songs to serve as an image prompter and theme for any novel. Once I've heard it a few times, it's always playing in the background as I run through the visualized book in my head. The music helps me hang onto the story as well. I can still run through the entire visual construct of StarDoc simply by listening to Pat Benatar's Love is a Battlefield.
Once I can see the story in my head from start to finish, I'm ready to write the book.
A few words on the offer -- I am not an advocate of huge, make-or-break advances. Luckily I started out with a $5K advance per novel, which tends to keep your expectations realistic. My advances presently average out to about $21.5K per book, which matches what my average sell-through earns. I prefer to be paid by the numbers, because my sales are slowly but consistently growing larger from one book to the next, and so should my income. An advance based on my actual sales performance also virtually guarantees the publisher won't lose money on the novel.
Once I've got the sale and the deal nailed, I've got the green light to make book. It's time to move into the construction phase of the novel process. I've already done the imagining, researching, and outlining for the novel, and I probably have at least a hundred pages of it written as part of the pitch, so everything is ready to go.
When you build a house, you don't start building right away. You need a dream, a plan, and backing, then build. Before I can build, though, I need to see the house in my head. So this is when I visualize the novel.
I've tried to explain this see-the-novel-in-my-head a million times and it inevitably comes out sounding stupid. Evidently few to zero writers think in non-existent movies about unwritten novels, but that's what I do. I cast the story with characters I can see in my head, and then I run them through the story in scenes that play out in loops that I alter and rerun until they work. I also find a song or songs to play as theme music while I'm doing all this mental choreography, and I will listen to that song/songs every time I work on the visualization.
Example: Think of a Desperado-era Antonio Banderas, only not as well-dressed or groomed. Got that image? That's Thierry Durand in my head. Think of a malnourished, non-sparkling Ashley Judd. That's Jema Shaw. In this scene, these two are going to meet for the first time.
Put Thierry on the stone balcony of a mansion with snow falling around him at night. Everything is dark winter blue and cold moonlight. Have him pick the hook-and-eye lock on the balcony door with a curved dagger.
Move Thierry into the room, where Jema is huddled under an old Jacob's ladder patterned patchwork quilt. Have him breathe in and smell old books, flowers, and candle wax. He sees the kerosene lamps and antique furnishings, but to Thierry, they look like junk. Have him approach the bed and look down at Jema. See his shadow fall over her. See her eyes moving under her eyelids as she dreams in REM sleep. Now watch him reach out one hand toward her face, and how that shadow falls over her face.
That's my visualization for the beginning of that scene. I've already visualized the rest and tweaked it until I was satisfied with exactly what happens from the time Thierry steps into that room until he slips back out into the night. Once I have a scene like this one worked out in my head, I move onto the next scene. I visualize that and add it onto the previous scene. They become a series of scenes, and then chapters, and finally the book.
One important exception: I don't imagine dialogue in any of my visualized scenes. For me, dialogue comes out on the page better if I don't rehearse it. So while I know what needs to happen in this scene, and I have an idea of what Thierry and Jema are going to say to each other, I don't worry about nailing it down now. I only have to see the characters and the choreography.
Music helps me enormously with this part of the process, and most of the time I choose one or two songs to serve as an image prompter and theme for any novel. Once I've heard it a few times, it's always playing in the background as I run through the visualized book in my head. The music helps me hang onto the story as well. I can still run through the entire visual construct of StarDoc simply by listening to Pat Benatar's Love is a Battlefield.
Once I can see the story in my head from start to finish, I'm ready to write the book.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Novel IV: Pitch
When you write a novel for publication, you're creating a product (not you, the novel.) To successfully sell that product, you need a major book publisher to manufacture and distribute your book. To interest a publisher in buying the rights to do so, you must submit a novel proposal, aka the pitch.
Very little practical information is written about how to pitch a novel by those who actually do it for a living. I know, I've looked. Those authors who are good at it evidently hoard their techniques, kind of like that stressed-out leprechaun in the Lucky Charms commercials: Can't let the kids get me magical marshmallows.
Those who aren't adept at pitching like to whine endlessly about it. "I'm an artist," a SF writer told to me once, "not a salesman." Makes sense, of course. Why should you learn how to effectively do something as common and grubby as selling the novel you, uh, want to sell?
Anyway. Until the heavens simply open up and bathe novelists in Divine Publication Light, or editors and publishers develop much better psychic powers, writers must pitch their novels.
It's not all that much different from baseball. Well, you don't have to chew tobacco or wear that black stuff under your eyes. But the theory is the same: Pitching is only as effective as your throw and who's at bat. You can blindly toss whatever you have out there and hope for the best. Or you can assess the market, choose very carefully to whom you pitch, and get it in shape to make it across the plate.
Here are my magical marshmallows (sorry, no curve balls):
1. Know Thy Novel: Before I pitch anything, I make sure I know it inside and out. I nail down all the vital details about genre, characters, plot, theme, setting and the story structure. I write a timeline chronicles the novel's events. I create keyword lists to organize my knowledge and make a foundation for the pitch. I trim away the unnecessary schlock and concentrate on concept words that relay story specifics. Compare these keyword lists:
rich, blond, smart, scarred, scared, lonely woman
Doesn't tell you much about how or why she's scarred, scared, lonely, etc., right? Now try:
former Creole socialite, recovering burn victim, agoraphobic
Same woman, only now you know a lot more about her.
2. Rough it Out: Using my keyword lists, I write a rough draft synopsis (ten to twenty pages, depending on genre), a one-page treatment (like a synopsis, only much shorter and more condensed) and my phone notes. Phone notes are shorthand for the key elements of a novel that I want to relay to my editor or agent, so they can get the gist of the novel in under a minute.
This is not all non-stop keywords or a place for voice, either; I write plainly and keep out as much of my personal writing style as is possible. The three big to-do's of writing a synopsis to me are: a) Do write it in present tense; b) Do give away all of the secrets and plot twists; and c) Do keep it as simple as possible -- just the facts, no frills.
3. Chapters: I write three chapters of the novel. If you can't spontaneously write three chapters of any novel you want to pitch, go back to step #1 and do it over until you're able to sit down and write the chapters. You have to know your book before you can write your book, and they're going to want to see a sample.
4. Break: I put it all aside for at least 24 hours if I can, or 4 hours if I can't, to get a break. I don't obsess, worry, hate, or otherwise think about the pitch.
5. Buff & Polish:I go back fresh and analyze the pitch. Have I covered all the bases? Does the idea sound exciting, interesting, attention-catching? Is the presentation professional, no errors, no logic problems, no clumsiness or stumbling in the synopsis? Are the first three chapters tight? Anything I missed?
6. Bounce it: This is an optional step. If I have any doubts, I call my agent and pitch her using my phone notes. If she throws up a red light, we discuss and I either discard the idea or fix it. You can do this with a writer friend or critique partner.
7. Mail it: If the agent gives me a green light, I print out the proposal and send it off (if you're subbing to a publisher, follow their guidelines to the letter.) I don't use anything special, just plain white paper, Courier New 12 pt. font, half-page cover letter, plain colored file folder.
As in baseball, you only get better at pitching if you practice. Sometimes I've written practice pitches on books I had no intention of writing just to refine my pitching ability. I do know that the more you write, the easier it gets. Keep at it.
Some tools and articles on pitching by authors who are good and don't hoard:
Timeline Maker -- I haven't tried downloading the demo, but this might help organize your novel timeline
Synopsis examples by Deborah M. Hale
Finding Your Themes by Holly Lisle
Make the Perfect Pitch: The Novel Query by Kelly James-Enger
Proper Manuscript Format
Making Your Proposal Persuasive by Cindy Bunch
How to Pitch Tipsheets from Mediabistro.com
Very little practical information is written about how to pitch a novel by those who actually do it for a living. I know, I've looked. Those authors who are good at it evidently hoard their techniques, kind of like that stressed-out leprechaun in the Lucky Charms commercials: Can't let the kids get me magical marshmallows.
Those who aren't adept at pitching like to whine endlessly about it. "I'm an artist," a SF writer told to me once, "not a salesman." Makes sense, of course. Why should you learn how to effectively do something as common and grubby as selling the novel you, uh, want to sell?
Anyway. Until the heavens simply open up and bathe novelists in Divine Publication Light, or editors and publishers develop much better psychic powers, writers must pitch their novels.
It's not all that much different from baseball. Well, you don't have to chew tobacco or wear that black stuff under your eyes. But the theory is the same: Pitching is only as effective as your throw and who's at bat. You can blindly toss whatever you have out there and hope for the best. Or you can assess the market, choose very carefully to whom you pitch, and get it in shape to make it across the plate.
Here are my magical marshmallows (sorry, no curve balls):
1. Know Thy Novel: Before I pitch anything, I make sure I know it inside and out. I nail down all the vital details about genre, characters, plot, theme, setting and the story structure. I write a timeline chronicles the novel's events. I create keyword lists to organize my knowledge and make a foundation for the pitch. I trim away the unnecessary schlock and concentrate on concept words that relay story specifics. Compare these keyword lists:
rich, blond, smart, scarred, scared, lonely woman
Doesn't tell you much about how or why she's scarred, scared, lonely, etc., right? Now try:
former Creole socialite, recovering burn victim, agoraphobic
Same woman, only now you know a lot more about her.
2. Rough it Out: Using my keyword lists, I write a rough draft synopsis (ten to twenty pages, depending on genre), a one-page treatment (like a synopsis, only much shorter and more condensed) and my phone notes. Phone notes are shorthand for the key elements of a novel that I want to relay to my editor or agent, so they can get the gist of the novel in under a minute.
This is not all non-stop keywords or a place for voice, either; I write plainly and keep out as much of my personal writing style as is possible. The three big to-do's of writing a synopsis to me are: a) Do write it in present tense; b) Do give away all of the secrets and plot twists; and c) Do keep it as simple as possible -- just the facts, no frills.
3. Chapters: I write three chapters of the novel. If you can't spontaneously write three chapters of any novel you want to pitch, go back to step #1 and do it over until you're able to sit down and write the chapters. You have to know your book before you can write your book, and they're going to want to see a sample.
4. Break: I put it all aside for at least 24 hours if I can, or 4 hours if I can't, to get a break. I don't obsess, worry, hate, or otherwise think about the pitch.
5. Buff & Polish:I go back fresh and analyze the pitch. Have I covered all the bases? Does the idea sound exciting, interesting, attention-catching? Is the presentation professional, no errors, no logic problems, no clumsiness or stumbling in the synopsis? Are the first three chapters tight? Anything I missed?
6. Bounce it: This is an optional step. If I have any doubts, I call my agent and pitch her using my phone notes. If she throws up a red light, we discuss and I either discard the idea or fix it. You can do this with a writer friend or critique partner.
7. Mail it: If the agent gives me a green light, I print out the proposal and send it off (if you're subbing to a publisher, follow their guidelines to the letter.) I don't use anything special, just plain white paper, Courier New 12 pt. font, half-page cover letter, plain colored file folder.
As in baseball, you only get better at pitching if you practice. Sometimes I've written practice pitches on books I had no intention of writing just to refine my pitching ability. I do know that the more you write, the easier it gets. Keep at it.
Some tools and articles on pitching by authors who are good and don't hoard:
Timeline Maker -- I haven't tried downloading the demo, but this might help organize your novel timeline
Synopsis examples by Deborah M. Hale
Finding Your Themes by Holly Lisle
Make the Perfect Pitch: The Novel Query by Kelly James-Enger
Proper Manuscript Format
Making Your Proposal Persuasive by Cindy Bunch
How to Pitch Tipsheets from Mediabistro.com
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Novel III: Outlining
Outlining is not writing a novel; it's preparation and organization of the elements of a novel. You need not outline to write a novel; plenty of writers don't. If you want to sell your novel, you will need a synopsis to show along with some chapters. Outlining allows you to write an a more effective synopsis.
What follows is how I outline. This may make things easier or jam you up. Use only what works for you.
The two novel elements that go into an outline are characters and plot. Like the nouns and verbs that go into making a sentence, characters and plot are the novel. Setting, motivation, timeline, story styling and whatever else you've got in mind aren't necessary right now; they're the adverbs, adjectives, conjunctions, etc. that you'll use to enhance the nouns and verbs. Put all that stuff to one side of your head; focus only on the group of characters that populate your story and what they do.
Characters: write a list of their names, and leave some line room to write beside each name. For each name, list assets, flaws, and the problems (I use no more than three of each) this character has. If you have trouble deciding, use a character outline sheet to get to know your character before you outline the novel, or read this workshop article Holly wrote on character creation.
My advice about characters: you should always know more about them than the reader will.
Once you've got your cast mapped out, look at them. Remember that interesting people are unique people. Could any of the characters swap places without a hitch? If yes, then you need to rework some of them. Can you see characters who are going to naturally like or dislike each other, no matter what your plans are? Note that; it will have an impact on how they relate to each other during the novel.
Plot: in simple language, write out the main plot of your novel. The way I do it is to list the five main events of the novel down the center of the page, and then on the side list what happens in between those five events. To give you a visual that doesn't involve my lousy handwriting, my plot list looks a bit like this.
If you're not sure how to plot, Holly has a great article on it here. My advice on plotting: have fun with it and you'll make it fun to write.
Once you have all the plot on paper, examine it the same way you did your characters. A very linear plot may make it easier for you to write the story, but the book is probably going to be predictable and dull for the reader. An extremely complicated plot, on the other hand, will make the novel hard for the reader to follow. You want a not-too-straight, not-too-kinky plot. Also, does the story plot serve the characters you've just outlined? If it's all about one of them and the other thirty-five are going to be sitting around and watching the one, then maybe you should rework the plot to better use that lovely cast you've just created.
Once you've nailed the characters and the plot, then you can get into making lists and outlines of the other elements like setting and motivation and what have you. This is story decorating to me and I'm not into it, so I write only what I absolutely need to flesh out the novel, usually in shorthand prompts that remind me of the main points.
When I'm done the outline, I'm ready to pitch.
What follows is how I outline. This may make things easier or jam you up. Use only what works for you.
The two novel elements that go into an outline are characters and plot. Like the nouns and verbs that go into making a sentence, characters and plot are the novel. Setting, motivation, timeline, story styling and whatever else you've got in mind aren't necessary right now; they're the adverbs, adjectives, conjunctions, etc. that you'll use to enhance the nouns and verbs. Put all that stuff to one side of your head; focus only on the group of characters that populate your story and what they do.
Characters: write a list of their names, and leave some line room to write beside each name. For each name, list assets, flaws, and the problems (I use no more than three of each) this character has. If you have trouble deciding, use a character outline sheet to get to know your character before you outline the novel, or read this workshop article Holly wrote on character creation.
My advice about characters: you should always know more about them than the reader will.
Once you've got your cast mapped out, look at them. Remember that interesting people are unique people. Could any of the characters swap places without a hitch? If yes, then you need to rework some of them. Can you see characters who are going to naturally like or dislike each other, no matter what your plans are? Note that; it will have an impact on how they relate to each other during the novel.
Plot: in simple language, write out the main plot of your novel. The way I do it is to list the five main events of the novel down the center of the page, and then on the side list what happens in between those five events. To give you a visual that doesn't involve my lousy handwriting, my plot list looks a bit like this.
If you're not sure how to plot, Holly has a great article on it here. My advice on plotting: have fun with it and you'll make it fun to write.
Once you have all the plot on paper, examine it the same way you did your characters. A very linear plot may make it easier for you to write the story, but the book is probably going to be predictable and dull for the reader. An extremely complicated plot, on the other hand, will make the novel hard for the reader to follow. You want a not-too-straight, not-too-kinky plot. Also, does the story plot serve the characters you've just outlined? If it's all about one of them and the other thirty-five are going to be sitting around and watching the one, then maybe you should rework the plot to better use that lovely cast you've just created.
Once you've nailed the characters and the plot, then you can get into making lists and outlines of the other elements like setting and motivation and what have you. This is story decorating to me and I'm not into it, so I write only what I absolutely need to flesh out the novel, usually in shorthand prompts that remind me of the main points.
When I'm done the outline, I'm ready to pitch.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Novel II: Research
Back in January, I talked about how a novel idea for me always starts with a character, and the three questions I answer to nail down that character.
Once I have that character, I know the basic premise of the novel, and move on to the next step, research.
The first part of research is to look at the market. As in, what's selling, what's becoming a trend, what's dying, what's about to be buried, and where does my idea land. This takes a lot of perpetual data collection about what's happening in the industry. Sort of like watching the stock market. You have to guess what editors are buying, which is what will be popular a year to two years from now. Keep in mind that production time = almost anything you sell won't hit the shelves for a year to two years from date of sale.
Some writers are good at following the market, and some aren't. I'd say I'm getting better at predicting what will sell and what won't, genre-wise. I base this partly on the fact that last year I sold almost 100% of everything I pitched off the first proposal, while in 2003 I only sold about 75%.
Why is it important to look at the market first? I may have what I consider a terrific idea for a historical novel, but if no one is buying historicals, I shelve it and do something else. This attitude will not work for everyone, especially the "but it's the book of my heart" writers out there, so if you feel you can hard sell your marvelous idea to a flooded, declining or dead market, by all means, skip this step.
Once I see how well the idea fits, if I still have doubts, I may run it past my best friend or my agent, get their opinion. If I don't, I look at the other part of the research: what information I have to gather in order to write this novel. Time plays a part here; I usually only have a month to three months to research a novel. If I see I'll have to interview two dozen people and read a thousand reference books, I shelve the idea.
If the idea survives the market fit, the run-by, and the info gathering scales, I decide whether I want to write the book. This is harder to explain. I've had some great ideas but they didn't feel right for me and the reader. A novel should always be exciting to work on, but it should also be like planning a big present or a hellacious surprise party for someone you love. If I don't feel that potential for me and for the reader, I set the idea aside.
If the idea is still hanging on, after all of the above, I'm ready to outline.
Once I have that character, I know the basic premise of the novel, and move on to the next step, research.
The first part of research is to look at the market. As in, what's selling, what's becoming a trend, what's dying, what's about to be buried, and where does my idea land. This takes a lot of perpetual data collection about what's happening in the industry. Sort of like watching the stock market. You have to guess what editors are buying, which is what will be popular a year to two years from now. Keep in mind that production time = almost anything you sell won't hit the shelves for a year to two years from date of sale.
Some writers are good at following the market, and some aren't. I'd say I'm getting better at predicting what will sell and what won't, genre-wise. I base this partly on the fact that last year I sold almost 100% of everything I pitched off the first proposal, while in 2003 I only sold about 75%.
Why is it important to look at the market first? I may have what I consider a terrific idea for a historical novel, but if no one is buying historicals, I shelve it and do something else. This attitude will not work for everyone, especially the "but it's the book of my heart" writers out there, so if you feel you can hard sell your marvelous idea to a flooded, declining or dead market, by all means, skip this step.
Once I see how well the idea fits, if I still have doubts, I may run it past my best friend or my agent, get their opinion. If I don't, I look at the other part of the research: what information I have to gather in order to write this novel. Time plays a part here; I usually only have a month to three months to research a novel. If I see I'll have to interview two dozen people and read a thousand reference books, I shelve the idea.
If the idea survives the market fit, the run-by, and the info gathering scales, I decide whether I want to write the book. This is harder to explain. I've had some great ideas but they didn't feel right for me and the reader. A novel should always be exciting to work on, but it should also be like planning a big present or a hellacious surprise party for someone you love. If I don't feel that potential for me and for the reader, I set the idea aside.
If the idea is still hanging on, after all of the above, I'm ready to outline.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Novel I: Imagine
For me, an idea for a novel always begins with a character. Some of my characters are carefully planned, others just seem to show up out of nowhere. When I do writer-for-hire work, characters created by someone else are assigned to me. However they get here, the characters are the catalyst for any story I write.
There are any number of character outline sheets writers use*, but every character I imagine takes form by answering three basic questions: Who are you? What do you want? What's the worst thing that I can do to you?
StarDoc: I'm a doctor, I want to do no harm, start a war over me.
Heat of the Moment: I'm a cop, I want justice, make the man I love a criminal.
Blade Dancer: I'm an orphan, I want a family, make me a pariah.
When I have those three answers, I've got my protagonist, and the foundation for his or her novel. This is also known as the novel premise.
Now I start to get the details that become the framework for the novel, i.e. my character became a doctor or a cop or an orphan because (fill in the blanks.) What goes in the blanks becomes my character outline and my backstory.
Finding out why the character wants to do no harm or justice or a family is strongly related to backstory, even if it represents a complete departure for the character, because what drives us now is always related to the past. Knowing what the character wants also brings me to the present, and what the characters is doing to pursue that desire, aka the central plot and setting.
The worst thing that can happen is simply the keystone of the novel's main conflict.
I can almost hear grumbling out there, but hang on. Your questions may be different from mine, depending on the writer you are and what interests you about your characters. Thus Who are you? might become Who were you? or How were you damaged? or What do you symbolize?
Your plot and setting may not revolve around what your characters wants, but are driven by other sources. Not a problem. Whatever the case, you still have to define them.
Same goes for your conflict: it doesn't have to be the worst thing that can happen to your character. It can be the best thing. It can happen to someone else. Whatever it is, however, it should affect your character in some fashion.
To give you a more visual sense of how I plan, I was once taught a meditation technique for when I was upset, in which I visualized myself as a lotus flower (no snickering, I'm serious.) I was the center of the flower, and everything I cared about or was upset over were the petals; least important on the outside, vital stuff at the heart of the flower. In my head, I took my flower-self apart, examining each petal, seeing the beauty and the flaws, and accepting what I saw. By the time I got to the center, I was calm (this really works well for me, btw, if anyone wants to give it a whirl.)
When I plan a novel, it's a little like doing the lotus meditation in reverse. The character is the center. The answers to those three questions are the first petals around the center. Everything else grows from them and becomes the flower, which is the novel.
*I do use character outline sheets to work out facts and backstory. One that I wrote for Jory Rask, the protagonist of Blade Dancer, starts on page 27 of my revised Novel Notebook (.pdf format; warning, contains major spoilers about the novel.)
There are any number of character outline sheets writers use*, but every character I imagine takes form by answering three basic questions: Who are you? What do you want? What's the worst thing that I can do to you?
StarDoc: I'm a doctor, I want to do no harm, start a war over me.
Heat of the Moment: I'm a cop, I want justice, make the man I love a criminal.
Blade Dancer: I'm an orphan, I want a family, make me a pariah.
When I have those three answers, I've got my protagonist, and the foundation for his or her novel. This is also known as the novel premise.
Now I start to get the details that become the framework for the novel, i.e. my character became a doctor or a cop or an orphan because (fill in the blanks.) What goes in the blanks becomes my character outline and my backstory.
Finding out why the character wants to do no harm or justice or a family is strongly related to backstory, even if it represents a complete departure for the character, because what drives us now is always related to the past. Knowing what the character wants also brings me to the present, and what the characters is doing to pursue that desire, aka the central plot and setting.
The worst thing that can happen is simply the keystone of the novel's main conflict.
I can almost hear grumbling out there, but hang on. Your questions may be different from mine, depending on the writer you are and what interests you about your characters. Thus Who are you? might become Who were you? or How were you damaged? or What do you symbolize?
Your plot and setting may not revolve around what your characters wants, but are driven by other sources. Not a problem. Whatever the case, you still have to define them.
Same goes for your conflict: it doesn't have to be the worst thing that can happen to your character. It can be the best thing. It can happen to someone else. Whatever it is, however, it should affect your character in some fashion.
To give you a more visual sense of how I plan, I was once taught a meditation technique for when I was upset, in which I visualized myself as a lotus flower (no snickering, I'm serious.) I was the center of the flower, and everything I cared about or was upset over were the petals; least important on the outside, vital stuff at the heart of the flower. In my head, I took my flower-self apart, examining each petal, seeing the beauty and the flaws, and accepting what I saw. By the time I got to the center, I was calm (this really works well for me, btw, if anyone wants to give it a whirl.)
When I plan a novel, it's a little like doing the lotus meditation in reverse. The character is the center. The answers to those three questions are the first petals around the center. Everything else grows from them and becomes the flower, which is the novel.
*I do use character outline sheets to work out facts and backstory. One that I wrote for Jory Rask, the protagonist of Blade Dancer, starts on page 27 of my revised Novel Notebook (.pdf format; warning, contains major spoilers about the novel.)
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