Jennifer R. Hubbard's Blog, page 44
May 9, 2014
Keeping up, measuring up
We writers sometimes compare ourselves to other writers, even though we know it's unrealistic and doesn't make a lot of sense. We're all on different paths of different lengths, with different starting points and different goals--yet the impulse to glance over and see where we are in relation to the person in the next lane is, apparently, irresistible.
It's not even about beating someone else, as in a race. I know very few writers who think that way. It's more like feeling that we need to "keep up" or "stay on track." It's about a fear of falling behind, getting lost, not measuring up. And so the internal monologue around this may go: I should be writing X words a day, because so-and-so writes that much. Or, I should be on my Nth novel now, because so-and-so's first novel came out at the same time as mine, and her Nth novel just came out. Or it could be about advances, sales, awards, guest-speaker slots, length of signing lines--any of the markers we try to use to gauge our success.
This is why I recommend Jody Casella's recent post, in which she says, "I also have to learn over and over to stop comparing myself to other writers." Her post also contains an invitation to other writers to share your process for possible inclusion (with attribution) in a conference presentation. That opportunity, with a deadline of June 30, is a way to celebrate and reinforce the fact that there are as many ways to write as there are writers.
It's not even about beating someone else, as in a race. I know very few writers who think that way. It's more like feeling that we need to "keep up" or "stay on track." It's about a fear of falling behind, getting lost, not measuring up. And so the internal monologue around this may go: I should be writing X words a day, because so-and-so writes that much. Or, I should be on my Nth novel now, because so-and-so's first novel came out at the same time as mine, and her Nth novel just came out. Or it could be about advances, sales, awards, guest-speaker slots, length of signing lines--any of the markers we try to use to gauge our success.
This is why I recommend Jody Casella's recent post, in which she says, "I also have to learn over and over to stop comparing myself to other writers." Her post also contains an invitation to other writers to share your process for possible inclusion (with attribution) in a conference presentation. That opportunity, with a deadline of June 30, is a way to celebrate and reinforce the fact that there are as many ways to write as there are writers.
May 7, 2014
Every phase is great except this one
The "Grass is Greener" Syndrome as expressed in the phases of writing:
1. First drafts are such a pain. Pulling ideas out of the air, doing all the heavy lifting of world-building. I can't wait to be editing this thing.
2. Foundational edits are the worst! Figuring out where whole scenes have to go. Adding and deleting characters. Major shifts in tone; addressing big-picture comments like, "Make character less boring," and, "Have more at stake." I miss the freedom of drafting, when it didn't have to be perfect or even good!
3. Ugh, line edits. These would be okay if I weren't so sick of looking at the story by now. Also, every change I make in one sentence means changing the next one. And going through a manuscript, deleting half the occurrences of the word "just," is not exactly thrilling. I can't wait to start something new.
4. If copy edits teach me anything, it is that the comma is a wily creature whose rules can never fully be known. I'd rather be line editing!
5. Wow, it's such a shock to start a first draft after spending so much time on revisions, working on a manuscript that was fairly solid. I feel like I'm floundering, facing the blank page again. If only I could be editing instead ...
And so it goes!
1. First drafts are such a pain. Pulling ideas out of the air, doing all the heavy lifting of world-building. I can't wait to be editing this thing.
2. Foundational edits are the worst! Figuring out where whole scenes have to go. Adding and deleting characters. Major shifts in tone; addressing big-picture comments like, "Make character less boring," and, "Have more at stake." I miss the freedom of drafting, when it didn't have to be perfect or even good!
3. Ugh, line edits. These would be okay if I weren't so sick of looking at the story by now. Also, every change I make in one sentence means changing the next one. And going through a manuscript, deleting half the occurrences of the word "just," is not exactly thrilling. I can't wait to start something new.
4. If copy edits teach me anything, it is that the comma is a wily creature whose rules can never fully be known. I'd rather be line editing!
5. Wow, it's such a shock to start a first draft after spending so much time on revisions, working on a manuscript that was fairly solid. I feel like I'm floundering, facing the blank page again. If only I could be editing instead ...
And so it goes!
May 4, 2014
Hedonic treadmill
"In social psychology, this phenomenon is called the 'hedonic treadmill'--the shifting of desires relative to achievements."
--Kevin Roose, Young Money
There's plenty of food for thought in this book about young workers on Wall Street, and I may discuss it more in a future post, but this quote caught my eye. Writers and Wall Street financiers may seem to have little in common on the surface, but I recognized the "hedonic treadmill" immediately, though I'd never heard such a name for it before. Writers often talk about moving from the if-only-I-could-publish-something-I'd-be-p
erfectly-happy-and-fulfilled mindset, to wanting more and more with each goal achieved: earning out, foreign sales, stars or awards, bestseller status, selling another book, selling film rights, etc.
In one sense, it's natural to set new goals when we've met an initial goal. But in another sense, there should also be time to linger on the plateau of contentment, smelling the roses awhile.
--Kevin Roose, Young Money
There's plenty of food for thought in this book about young workers on Wall Street, and I may discuss it more in a future post, but this quote caught my eye. Writers and Wall Street financiers may seem to have little in common on the surface, but I recognized the "hedonic treadmill" immediately, though I'd never heard such a name for it before. Writers often talk about moving from the if-only-I-could-publish-something-I'd-be-p
erfectly-happy-and-fulfilled mindset, to wanting more and more with each goal achieved: earning out, foreign sales, stars or awards, bestseller status, selling another book, selling film rights, etc.
In one sense, it's natural to set new goals when we've met an initial goal. But in another sense, there should also be time to linger on the plateau of contentment, smelling the roses awhile.
May 1, 2014
Remember what you love
One of my favorite people to follow on Twitter is Courtney Summers (author of Some Girls Are, This Is Not a Test, and other fine books), whose Twitter handle is @courtney_s. It's not just because she has a headcrab that recommends books or because she's brilliant with the 140-character format. I once pulled this phrase out of one of her longer tweets because it really spoke to me:
"I'm not here to make sense"
I would like to have that on a magnet, or maybe a T-shirt. A T-shirt would be good, because perhaps it would lower expectations. It could serve as fair warning to those around me.
I read this recent tweet with interest:
courtney summers @courtney_s · Apr 28 true story I almost gave up on THIS IS NOT A TEST and then I played a lot of Left 4 Dead and remembered I loved zombies
I say "with interest" because I have given up on every single one of my published books at one point or another. While writing The Secret Year, I was simultaneously writing another book, and I sometimes left The Secret Year for dead for days or weeks at a time, convinced that the other book was really The One. (That other book has still never been published.) While editing Try Not to Breathe, one of my editorial letters temporarily flummoxed me to the point that I wondered if the whole book was going to end up collapsing. And it's probably better not to even speak of my revision process for Until It Hurts to Stop, since I gave up on that manuscript weekly. It became such a predictable part of my routine that it even got a little boring.
"Things to Do Today:
1. Eat breakfast.
2. Break up with manuscript; declare it over and done with.
3. Edit manuscript."
Like that.
I know I've heard from other writers that they, too, give up on manuscripts, and then find their way back into them. But what I like about Courtney Summers's April 28th tweet is that it lends itself so handily to a writing-office motto: "Remember you love zombies." I've never actually written about zombies myself, and I feel sort of neutral about them, but this motto stands for all the manuscripts I've abandoned and returned to. Something pulled me back to them.
As for giving up, I do it so regularly that it seems to be a natural, if strange and inefficient, part of my process for finishing a book. I just need to remember I love the zombies.
"I'm not here to make sense"
I would like to have that on a magnet, or maybe a T-shirt. A T-shirt would be good, because perhaps it would lower expectations. It could serve as fair warning to those around me.
I read this recent tweet with interest:
courtney summers @courtney_s · Apr 28 true story I almost gave up on THIS IS NOT A TEST and then I played a lot of Left 4 Dead and remembered I loved zombiesI say "with interest" because I have given up on every single one of my published books at one point or another. While writing The Secret Year, I was simultaneously writing another book, and I sometimes left The Secret Year for dead for days or weeks at a time, convinced that the other book was really The One. (That other book has still never been published.) While editing Try Not to Breathe, one of my editorial letters temporarily flummoxed me to the point that I wondered if the whole book was going to end up collapsing. And it's probably better not to even speak of my revision process for Until It Hurts to Stop, since I gave up on that manuscript weekly. It became such a predictable part of my routine that it even got a little boring.
"Things to Do Today:
1. Eat breakfast.
2. Break up with manuscript; declare it over and done with.
3. Edit manuscript."
Like that.
I know I've heard from other writers that they, too, give up on manuscripts, and then find their way back into them. But what I like about Courtney Summers's April 28th tweet is that it lends itself so handily to a writing-office motto: "Remember you love zombies." I've never actually written about zombies myself, and I feel sort of neutral about them, but this motto stands for all the manuscripts I've abandoned and returned to. Something pulled me back to them.
As for giving up, I do it so regularly that it seems to be a natural, if strange and inefficient, part of my process for finishing a book. I just need to remember I love the zombies.
April 27, 2014
What's in that pile of books
It's my turn over at YA Outside the Lines, where I blogged about the different categories of books sitting around my house, either being read or waiting to be read. You know: the friend's book, the book I got as a gift, the guilty pleasure, the book everyone's talking about, etc. The full discussion is here.
April 24, 2014
Most days
Most days are not the glamor days, the big-news days. Most days are not the days of finishing manuscripts. Most days are about making a little progress. Finishing a scene. Getting unstuck. Deleting something. Figuring out that character's name. Switching to a different manuscript. Deciding to scrap the beginning. Deciding to scrap the ending. Writing one good sentence. Writing one halfway decent page. Writing one chapter that kind of sucks but hey, it can be fixed later. Coming back for another round.
April 22, 2014
Dissonance
This post by Mike Jung captured perfectly some things I've been thinking about some books for a long while. I'm not referring to the particular book he's discussing there, which I haven't read myself and therefore don't feel qualified to comment on. I mean the feeling in general. The feeling of "oh I love this book so much it has so many great things in it BUT there is this racist/sexist/homophobic subplot/scene/character which I don't like and which makes me hesitate to recommend the book." Jung nailed that feeling of loving a work, but then seeing it from different angles and experiencing a growing discomfort with it, yet still loving much in it.
I've had such feelings about Gone with the Wind, and Booth Tarkington's Alice Adams, and the Little House books. I can understand why people might look at the objectionable parts of these books and decide they can't recommend the books at all, they don't want to read or reread them, they don't want their kids to read them. It's trickier to ask what can be salvaged, to love a story despite the parts that make you cringe. To like a book yet not make excuses for what's offensive in it. I've asked myself whether I even have the right to do it. I love that Mike Jung lays all these thoughts and emotions on the line, exploring these very questions.
Oddly--or, perhaps not oddly--I feel less hesitant when dealing with sexism in books. I note the offending passages and move on to get what I can out of the book. I long ago learned to read past, or through, misogyny because it's so pervasive, especially in older literature. Which isn't to say that I can speak for all women, or that we all get offended by exactly the same things, or that we all want to handle offense the same way, or that we're all willing to read the same books. I just mean I'm more likely to feel that I have some authority to discuss such a book. Whereas, in situations where I'm in the privileged group (for example, when the issue is race), I feel like I should do more listening than talking, that I should read more recommendations than I make.
I'm grateful to Mike Jung for discussing this with eloquence and heart.
I've had such feelings about Gone with the Wind, and Booth Tarkington's Alice Adams, and the Little House books. I can understand why people might look at the objectionable parts of these books and decide they can't recommend the books at all, they don't want to read or reread them, they don't want their kids to read them. It's trickier to ask what can be salvaged, to love a story despite the parts that make you cringe. To like a book yet not make excuses for what's offensive in it. I've asked myself whether I even have the right to do it. I love that Mike Jung lays all these thoughts and emotions on the line, exploring these very questions.
Oddly--or, perhaps not oddly--I feel less hesitant when dealing with sexism in books. I note the offending passages and move on to get what I can out of the book. I long ago learned to read past, or through, misogyny because it's so pervasive, especially in older literature. Which isn't to say that I can speak for all women, or that we all get offended by exactly the same things, or that we all want to handle offense the same way, or that we're all willing to read the same books. I just mean I'm more likely to feel that I have some authority to discuss such a book. Whereas, in situations where I'm in the privileged group (for example, when the issue is race), I feel like I should do more listening than talking, that I should read more recommendations than I make.
I'm grateful to Mike Jung for discussing this with eloquence and heart.
April 20, 2014
The eras of reading
"Something that has always fascinated me is the way, if you read your whole life, you use what you read to mark time. I know I associate certain books with, I read that when I was moving. I read that when I was breaking up with my boyfriend, kind of thing. You're immediately, if you pick up a book, sort of thrown back in time to this other time when you first read it. The books never change, but you do."
--Gabrielle Zevin, interview with Powell's.com
Zevin also commented on the difference between being an author in real life and the way it's portrayed in popular media; the changes in publishing over the past decade; bookstores she has known and loved; the mysterious figure known as the book sales rep; and her new novel, The Storied Life of AJ Fikry.
--Gabrielle Zevin, interview with Powell's.com
Zevin also commented on the difference between being an author in real life and the way it's portrayed in popular media; the changes in publishing over the past decade; bookstores she has known and loved; the mysterious figure known as the book sales rep; and her new novel, The Storied Life of AJ Fikry.
April 17, 2014
Discoveries
Here's Francis Crick, one of the discoverers of the structure of DNA, on how it feels to make a scientific discovery:
"It is not easy to convey, unless one has experienced it, the dramatic feeling of sudden enlightenment that floods the mind when the right idea finally clicks into place. One immediately sees how many previously puzzling facts are neatly explained by the new hypothesis. One could kick oneself for not having the idea earlier, it now seems so obvious. Yet before, everything was in a fog."-- from What Mad Pursuit
I thought this might sound familiar to writers, because it's also a good description of making a creative breakthrough!
"It is not easy to convey, unless one has experienced it, the dramatic feeling of sudden enlightenment that floods the mind when the right idea finally clicks into place. One immediately sees how many previously puzzling facts are neatly explained by the new hypothesis. One could kick oneself for not having the idea earlier, it now seems so obvious. Yet before, everything was in a fog."-- from What Mad Pursuit
I thought this might sound familiar to writers, because it's also a good description of making a creative breakthrough!
April 15, 2014
YA Fest
April 19, 10:30 AM - 3 PM: YA Fest, Easton, PA. Book sales and signing by 50 young adult and middle-grade fiction authors; writing contest, raffles, and discussion panel. A portion of proceeds will go directly to the library to help fund the YA shelves and events. Palmer Branch of the Easton Public Library, Easton, PA. 3 Weller Place, Palmer Township, PA.
