Elizabeth Roderick's Blog, page 10

Review Tour Signup for The Hustle

Hello, lovely people! The first installment of The Other Place Series, entitled The Hustle releases on 5/31/16, and I’m looking for folks that want to participate in my review tour. It’s a new adult contemporary novel, with lesbian romance, crime thriller, and magical realism elements. The tour signup is HERE. Thank you for your support!

Interview With Rebecca Barber

Hello, all! Rebecca Barber is embarking on a blog tour, promoting her new romantic suspense novel, Nobody Knows. I had the pleasure of interviewing her!

Q: Tell us a bit about yourself.

My life is pretty mundane and boring but hectic at the same time (if that is at all possible?) I am an accountant by day and work really long hours and then come home to my extremely forgiving husband Rob and our fur baby Levi.

I’m one of 4 kids to my teacher parents and we moved around a bit when we were kids so I’ve been lucky enough to experience so many different things over the years – country life, city living and even living on the beach!

These days, after work I write, read and spend six months of the year in a heated debate with my husband over which of our beloved Australian Rules Football team is better.

Q: How did Nobody Knows came about? How did you get the idea to write it?

Nobody Knows is one of those books which sort of just appeared from nowhere and wrote itself. Most of the time I felt like a passenger really. I had a couple of friends going through some hard times (although nothing like what is in the book) and their stories inspired me to write a character we could all hate. At the time, everyone seemed to think characters like Christian Grey – with his charisma, wealth, sex appeal – could do no wrong, I wanted to write someone who had all of this, but wasn’t Prince Charming in the end.

Q: Did you do any research for this novel?

Q: How long did it take you to write Nobody Knows ? Could you tell us a bit about your writing process—whether you have a writing schedule and how you manage to get it done?

Nobody Knows too about 4 months to write in total to get the first draft done. After that I needed to step back and walk away. I think I sat on it and did absolutely nothing with it for about another six months while I recovered from what I’d written really. Even today, re-reading some of the words I wrote scares me about how dark it is.

Unfortunately I don’t have a writing schedule, although I wish I did, I just try and fit it in when I can around other things like life, but since writing is basically my stress relief, when I need to, I find the time :)

Q: Are you a plotter or a pantser?

I usually have a basic plot in my head, but when the characters start getting involved they take on a life of their own and I just hang on for the ride.

Q: What is your editing process?

The only way I can edit is to print it off and draw all over it. If I can’t I can’t see it. So I print a copy of and write in all the changes before re-typing them back in. After that it goes to a few trusted people for their feedback and opinions. Then more changes. Then the publishers.

Q: You have four books out now, correct? Tell us about your publishing journey.

My publishing journey has been a whirlwind. Nobody Knows is the third published book and the fourth is set with a June release date – six months ago I didn’t have a publishing contract! One wet Saturday afternoon I’d just finished reading a brilliant book by another author and I looked who her publisher was, she wrote similar stuff to me, I Googled her publisher, they were accepting submissions so before I had a chance to chicken out or change my mind, I hit submit. Now here I am.

I’ve learnt a lot and met a stack of wonderful helpful people along the way, and I’m still learning every day.

Q: Are there any marketing tips or wisdom you can give us?

Ask for help – there are people and groups out there who want to help you. In the beginning I was embarrassed to ask for help and I made quite a few mistakes and my book sales suffered as result. But the sooner you can understand and accept that the people in this community genuinely want to help you and want to see you succeed, the better you will be. Not only that, you will make some more amazing friends along the way, no matter where you live – I mean I’m in Australia and some of the best people I talk to on a regular basis are in the UK and US.

Q: What else are you working on? Should we expect any more of your books in the near future?

Book 3 in the “Swimming Upstream” series, “On Dry Land” will be released on June 14 2016 which is the final to that series and then I have just signed another contract for another series of 3 books.

The first of which “Coming Home” will probably be published late 2016 and focuses on a small country town an the relationships which inevitably grow when you’ve known someone all your life.

Thank you, Rebecca! Nobody Knows is available on Amazon!

Nobody Knows by Rebecca Barber – Blog Tour and Release

Amazon ~ FREE on Kindle Unlimited 

Gillian

The scowl on his leathery face should have been enough warning to shut me up, but tonight I wasn’t in the mood to back down. I was ready for a fight. Whatever he dished out would come back at him twofold. He came through the door, ripping it almost off its hinges and letting it slam behind him. He took one look at me, sitting on the lounge quietly watching television and sipping my coffee, and rolled his eyes in disgust. I didn’t say a word. This was the game we played these days. After more than a decade of marriage, this is all we had left.

“What’s for dinner?” he snarled, his eyes filled with hatred and disgust. I just shrugged apathetically. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hi honey, how was your day? You look tired. Why don’t I just whip you up a nice, juicy T-bone steak and fresh steamed veggies?’ The truth was, I would probably be having home-brand crackers with what was left of the vegemite.

“Not sure. We don’t have much,” I admitted, instantly feeling ashamed.

I hated the fact that he could make me cower like that. Once upon a time, in another lifetime far away from this one, I felt different. I felt worthwhile and even happy. We were happy at one point, weren’t we? Somewhere along the line, I must have loved him. Otherwise I wouldn’t have married him. I can’t be that stupid, can I?

“For God’s sake, didn’t you even bother to do the shopping?” he snarled from the kitchen.

I heard him muttering to himself as he shuffled the near-empty boxes about in the pantry. Much as I hate to admit it, the profanity spraying from his lips was mighty impressive.

Stomping back into the lounge, he planted himself deliberately in front of the television, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. Knowing what was coming, I was glad the kids were out with their godmother Heidi tonight. That was the only positive in this nightmare.

“For fuck’s sake, Gillian. I give you money. What the fucking hell do you spend it on?” he demanded, tiny bits of spittle flying from his mouth.

We had danced around this confrontation for weeks now. The tension was escalating, as was the hatred buried inside me. I don’t remember the last time that I had actually had a full night’s sleep. These days, I was too angry to sleep. As soon as my head hit the pillow, all I could do was imagine all the things that I wanted to do and say to him, but was too afraid to.

My life had somehow crumpled into a pathetic mess, and most of the time I hated myself for it. I was furious, and the more I saw of him, the more he continued to be the heartless barbaric bastard he had become, the worse things got, and the more I despised myself.

“Do you really want to know how fucking far your measly twenty bucks stretches these days?” I asked, keeping my face as blank as possible. He raised a quizzical eyebrow and folded his arms aggressively across his puffed out chest.

I took a deep breath, grabbed hold of the arms of my chair with both hands, and squeezed as hard as I could. When I looked down, my knuckles were white with the strain and I could hear myself grinding my teeth desperately, trying to control the rage inside me.

“Well?” he snapped, shifting his weight impatiently from one foot to another.

I exhaled heavily. “If you really want to know what happened to that twenty you gave me a week ago for food and to keep the house running, well, it bought a six-pack of home brand toilet paper, a loaf of bread, a carton of milk, vegemite, eggs, and a packet of tampons for your daughter!” I told him, ticking the items off my fingers as I announced them.

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Amazon ~ FREE on Kindle Unlimited

( Swimming Upstream Series:  Book Two)

Amazon

LOVE OR MONEY IS A FREE DOWNLOAD TODAY ONLY!

I wouldn’t typically spend much time advertising my book for free, but I’d love to get word about my book, and myself as an author, out there – especially since I have more books coming out soon (The Hustle on 5/31/16 and The Other Place on 7/5/16). So, please download the book for free – today only.

Love or Money is a crime thriller romance – sort of like an Elmore Leonard novel with a dash of bisexual (F/F and F/M) erotica. The author (*bows awkwardly*) has an insider’s view of prison and gang culture so, while it’s definitely not a true story, it has a heavy dash of realism that might strike you at gut level.

What do you have to lose? Download it – if you love it, then you’ll probably love The Hustle, so keep that in mind at the end of May when it comes out. Also, you can leave me a review!

Thanks!

Love or Money Goodreads Giveaway

Hello, beauties! I wanted to plug my Goodreads Giveaway for Love or Money. It’s happening right now, and you can enter by clicking the button below. I’m giving away two signed copies of the book, and if you haven’t read it yet, you should enter why not!

If you HAVE read it, you should go leave me a review on Amazon and Goodreads. The review can say the book stinks like dog butt, I don’t care – I guess I need to know these things. But if you’re still following my blog, I’m guessing you don’t think I or my writing stink too badly.

Reviews REALLY help. They’re a huge part of what builds an author’s career, and I know you want me to be able to make a living at this. I mean, look at my beautiful daughter, who needs things like food, electricity for her iPod, ironic t-shirts and piano lessons. Isn’t she cute?

Thank you!

Goodreads Book Giveaway


Love or Money
by Elizabeth Roderick

Giveaway ends March 22, 2016.

See the giveaway details

at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

 

On Marketing, and the Nexus of Dreams and Reality

Those of you who follow my personal story; or have beta read the Tales From Purgatory books, my upcoming Other Place series, or The Story of a Girl Named Mike; know that the way imagination/delusion intertwines with reality in order to make magic is the underlying theme in my life and work. It’s a subject that fascinates me endlessly and runs at the core of my understanding of the world. In The Deathly Hallows, when Dumbledore said, “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it isn’t real?” the phrase struck  at my heart, because I knew exactly what he meant.

I know the idea that “dreams can come true” and that there is a sort of force, strengthened by belief, that can bring about changes in the real world, isn’t one that is unique to me. My church believes that prayer can bring about change, and that there is another world – the “Kingdom of God” – that exists just outside of and intertwined with our own; that we can get there through the sacrifice of Jesus, and that this glorious world will someday overcome the physical world and bring about an everlasting peace.

For most people, this is an abstract concept that doesn’t play much in their day-to-day life and decisions, even amongst those who purport to live by God’s rules for getting to this place (said rules and their interpretations varying from person to person).

For me, on the other hand, though I wouldn’t describe my understanding of this concept in religious terms, it is a very real concept. Things that happen “in my head” seem to have a tangible effect on the outside world and on my life. In my worst moments (few and far between, thank goodness), I am driven to frank psychosis, thinking that this effect is more drastic and sometimes uncontrollable than I generally believe. I say this, even though part of me believes some of the things I’ve experienced during psychosis are actually real. And at any rate, I do believe the concept itself – the reality of this alternate reality, or the force of belief – is very real, though it is impossible, of course, to be without doubts.

When life gives me a particularly rough turn, the force of my belief begins to evaporate and I find myself in a cold, bitter and senseless place. This, I know, isn’t a function of whatever mental illness I’m supposed to suffer from: everyone feels like this sometimes. All those things we thought we had, the life we thought we’d built – it turns out, those things didn’t belong to us, and that happiness can be taken from us in an instant. But just because it’s ethereal, doesn’t mean it wasn’t real to begin with.

That cold, senseless place frightens the hell out of me  and makes me angry. The problem is, it seems like I have a harder time sheltering myself from it, building my castles in the sky, than most people. I think that’s because I’m not laying my foundations in the real world, trying to reach  my dreams: I’m building them in my dreams, and trying to reach the real world.

Since I was a girl, my a lot of my behavior and decisions haven’t made sense to people. At some point in my adulthood, I realized that’s because I’m operating on slightly different principles than most. At first I tried to fight with myself about it, because I felt there was something wrong with me, an opinion that was shared by others. Many of those who know me and love me tell me that I need to get a handle on myself, get treatment for my bipolar and PTSD and whatever other things my brain is supposedly sick with. They tell me I need to grow up and start living in the real world.

But that isn’t as easy as it sounds. I’ve come to terms with the fact that “wrong” is subjective, and that there’s no point in my feeling that there’s something broken with me, because it isn’t fixable in any case. There is no pill that cures me of who I am. There may be pills that make me sleep more than 4 hours a night; ones that stop me from believing my best friend is invading my brain and giving me his toothache out of spite; they may be able to medicate the past from coming back to haunt me in bright, immediate flashes of feeling, taste and smell that make me react to present situations with a little more drama than is necessary. But pills won’t solve the underlying problem with me, and even the treatments for the scarier parts of my “conditions” don’t come without high cost.

When I discovered writing, I thought I’d finally found something that made sense to me, something that might allow me to find my place in the world and be accepted for what I am, rather than what I “should” be, according to the rules of the real world. It was a way for me to weave together dreams and reality and create something that might shelter me from the driving rain and hungry wolves. But just recently my foundations have been crumbling again and the elements are beginning to seep in. I’d had help in maintaining that structure while I tried to build it, and that person is no longer interested in helping, for various reasons.

There is a measure of how much a person is accepted in the real world, how much they are able to “make things work” on their own terms: money. Money measures this phenomenon every bit as accurately as the scales of centigrade, Fahrenheit and Kelvin measure temperature. The scales themselves may be human constructs, but the phenomena themselves are not; and the forces that affect one’s ability to make it in this world are every bit as chaotic as those that affect atmospheric temperature.

The nexus point of my imaginary world and the real one is this: marketing. If I could market my books, my editing skills, and myself better, I might make money at it and be able to salvage my structure and survive. But I’m horrible at it. This blog post – which most of you have quit reading by now – is one example of it. People like to be entertained (and I get that – entertainment is a worthwhile pursuit that I’m wholly in favor of), but I’m trying to communicate with the world on a level that might be a little too real to be entertaining and professional. I’m sure talking about my marital problems and battles with psychosis isn’t inspiring many to hire me as an editor (even if I say that editing people’s stories is something I love, and it keeps me “sane”), or to buy my books.

The problem is, I’m still struggling to make sense of things, and find my place. And while I try to push my books and my editing skills in a professional way – try to captivate people with one-liners, inspire them, urge them to give me money and leave me reviews – it just feels like I’m grasping at threads…I’m trying to knit my world and theirs together, and I’m not counting the stitches correctly. Maybe I was wrong all along: maybe the two worlds will never fit together. Maybe I’m out in the cold again.

I wish I had a team, like Katniss had Cinna, Haymitch, and Plutarch, to transform me into a propo that resonates with the world. But, as much as we all are The Chosen One in our own stories, most of us just aren’t Mockingjay material.

I’m going to keep trying, though, because – like I said – it’s the only thing that makes sense to me.

So: buy my books, and hire me as an editor. Not as an act of charity, please, but because you believe that magic is real, and that perhaps we can share our magic and our worlds with one another.

On the Critique and Editing Process, and the Support System for Artists

“There are so many different kinds of writing and so many ways to work that the only rule is this: do what works. Almost everything has been tried and found to succeed for somebody. The methods, even the ideas of successful writers, contradict each other in a most heartening way, and the only element I find common to all successful writers is persistence—an overwhelming determination to succeed.” -Sophy Burnham

 

I recently had the immense honor of being a judge in the #SonOfAPitch contest. It’s an online writing contest where participants have the opportunity to be critiqued by other writers and by published authors. The judges then vote their favorite entries into an agent/publisher round. It was a super cool experience for me, and I’m really excited to be a judge again when the contest runs in September.

I’ve also recently started up an editing business, and have already gotten to edit some amazing queries and partials, which is work I’ve enjoyed even more than I thought I would. The opportunity to see the variety of styles and the techniques writers use to draw a reader in—and to actually have a hand in refining their work—is an incredible feeling.

I’m not entirely comfortable with all this, though. I’m putting myself forward as an “expert”, someone who can  help others to grow as writers and find their pathways to success, and I probably shouldn’t say this, but I feel like a horrible fraud.

I don’t want to be one of those annoying, constantly self-effacing people. After all, I am a published author. I have a good English skills; a solid grasp of story structure; and am a nerd with regard to techniques of character development, world-building, and pacing. I have written in a lot of different genres and styles, which gives me a unique perspective, and my long experience as a critique partner and beta reader definitely gives me something to offer in the professional sense.

But none of that stops me from feeling awkward when I’m judging, editing or critiquing writers who are better than I am. The fact I’m published and they’re not is more a function of luck, persistence, and timing than talent or skill. Who am I to tell them anything?

There is one thing I’m confident in being able to offer, however, and it is, in my opinion, the most important thing one can give a struggling artist: support.

Support and encouragement are even more important than brutal and honest critiques. Art is subjective. There’s no right or wrong way to do it, and sometimes even what I feel is my best advice doesn’t resonate with the writer, or with other readers of their work.

All my years in critique groups, I’ve often looked at all the advice I’ve gotten—some of it conflicting, indecipherable, or downright painful for one reason or another—and wondered if there is any value at all in the critique process. But when I look at how much my writing has improved because of it, I know that it was worthwhile. Even if some advice didn’t resonate, some of it did, and just thinking about and discussing the craft of writing with other writers has helped me grow so much.

The advice and critiques that have helped me most of all have been from the professionals: the editors, agents, and published authors who have been kind enough to take their time to help me. Get this, though: it’s not because those professionals have always given me the best advice (though they often have). There have been times I’ve gotten an R&R from an editor or agent saying they want me to put the manuscript back the way I’d had it in a previous draft, which hadn’t been working for other agents or critique partners at all. Even the professionals aren’t gods: they’re just people, and their opinions are their own.

Why the professionals’ advice has been so powerful for me is simply because I trust it. Even if their advice isn’t necessarily right for the manuscript, they do indisputably know what they’re talking about. And that fact helped me to see how subjective the art of writing is: it taught me that, just because my book wasn’t working for them, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work for someone else. It helped me to not give up, despite tons of rejection. And that is the one and only reason that I am now a published author.

Support is paramount, especially because of how lacking it can be in the general population. People who have never tried to make their living as an artist just can’t understand how difficult and crazy-making it is; how you’re doing this thing that a lot of people think is silly and pointless, but it’s so important to you. You’re putting in all this time, effort, and emotion, with no guarantee that it will ever pay off, and you’re having to deal with tons of hurt and rejection in the bargain. Society tends to tell you that, if it’s making you so miserable, you should just get a job and get a life, without understanding that art is your joy and your life.

I’ve grown up amongst musicians and artists. I’ve seen so, so many friendships and marriages fail because of the financial and emotional stresses involved in pursuing and artistic career. This was a huge factor in why I was served with divorce papers, two weeks ago today, in fact. But it’s worth it for us artists to persist, because of how important this dream is to us, how much meaning it gives to our lives. Even though sometimes we’re reduced to sobbing alone in the dark and wishing to God that we had some grand desire to be a plumber instead of a writer, it’s still so important that we not give up.

So, if I could ever have a hand in encouraging someone to not give up their dream, I would consider myself a success. I’ll keep putting myself forward as an expert until others start to agree that I am, including myself. And if I can make enough money at it, I’ll be yet another example of the fact that being an artist isn’t such a silly dream, after all – it’s just a job. It’s the only job I’ve ever been good at,  the only one I’ve ever loved, and anyone can succeed at a career in the arts if they love it and want it as much as I do.

#SonOfAPitch: How to Sway My Vote

Hello, lovely #SonOfAPitch participants! I’m so incredibly happy and proud to be included as a judge in this contest. Writing competitions have helped me so much. I’ve gotten more than one contract offer through pitch parties like #PitMad, and the amount of advice, confidence, and support I’ve gotten in other contests like #PitchWars and #Pit2Pub, not to mention the invaluable critique partners I’ve met in the feeds, have made it possible for me to be where I am today. The opportunity to pay it forward a little bit has more significance for me than I have the skill to describe, but perhaps with help from these lovely online writing communities, I’ll gain that skill someday :)

That being said, being a judge is just as difficult for me as judges and mentors in other contests have always said, in all those tweets I’ve hung upon and over-analyzed trying to discern whether they referred to my manuscript. It’s so cool to read all your entries, to have a small window into your brilliant and imaginative stories. And it’s doubly cool to see how the critiques some of you got in the first round have helped to sharpen and refine your pitches and beginnings. The ability to gracefully and skillfully accept and apply critique advice is a huge part of the craft of writing…and one of the hardest parts.

It’s SO cool to read your entries that, even though I’ve just gotten started, I can already tell that I’m going to have trouble choosing which entries to vote for…since I already have more than five on my list.

The wonderful Katie Teller has said that participants may try to sway the judges. Since I need some swaying, I thought I’d give you an idea of how to do that in my case.

Now, I’m not going to say that I don’t like interacting with y’all on the feed, because that’s one of my favorite parts of this contest. I’ve talked to some really nice, smart, interesting, and funny people, and the kindness you’ve shown me has been doubly nice, because of some stuff that’s gone down in my life this last week. I would like to think that people would want to talk to me whether I was a judge or not, though :) And, of course, I can’t just vote for people because they’re nice, because I don’t have enough votes to vote for all of you.

Similarly, even though I really hope you all like my writing enough to follow my blog and/or buy my book, it’d be pretty damned cheesy for me to vote for people just because they did. Gah. Even just thinking about doing that gave me the shudders.

So, what would help me make my decision is if you would tell me about the diversity in the manuscript you submitted. If there isn’t any (and it’s not a deal-breaker for me if there’s not – diversity is important to me, but plenty of my favorite books aren’t particularly diverse), then tell me about a diverse character you’ve written about in another manuscript, or plan on writing about someday. Alternatively, you can tell me about your own experiences as a diverse person, or about your favorite diverse character in someone else’s novel.

Now, to be clear: to me at least, diversity isn’t just racial, ethnic, or cultural, (although I do really enjoy those types). It can also be socioeconomic, religious, sexual identity, or neurodiversity (that last one you’ll know, if you’ve read many of my other blog posts, is the type that I’m most familiar with). The literary world is replete with books expressing the points of view of middle- or upper-class, straight, neurotypical white people (even a lot of books with diversity seem to be told from this point of view), and I think we’re finally starting to appreciate the immense value in seeing the world from other viewpoints, not just in nonfiction, literary fiction, and “issues” books, but in genre fiction of all types. I love novels that are just great stories that happen to be told from a diverse viewpoint.

I just want to get people thinking about this issue if they aren’t already. Seeing your thoughts on this subject could definitely sway my opinion when I’m teetering with indecision between two manuscripts. And, besides that, if I could ever claim the honor of having spurred someone to explore and write from a diverse viewpoint, or of giving someone encouragement to write about a character that shares their own diverse viewpoint (even though the writer may feel, like I do, that their own diverse viewpoint is pretty darned unpopular)…well, I’d be frigging happy as heck about that.

You can tweet your thoughts on this subject to me directly (I’m @Lidsrodney), with or without the #SonOfAPitch hashtag; or, if your thoughts don’t fit in 140 characters, you can leave a comment on this post. If you don’t want to post your thoughts publically, you can DM me on Twitter or email me (you can find my email on the “about” page on this blog).

Thank you all for participating, for reading, and for all your wonderful stories and thoughts. And good luck to each and every one of you in your writing careers.

Invisible Friend Jesus and the Divorce

I sat quietly on the couch, concentrating on taking one breath after another. I’d scrubbed the floors, the bathrooms, the countertops; scoured kitchen grease off the overlooked crevices of the canisters; I’d written, or tried to, and spent hours editing other people’s manuscripts, losing myself in their stories; but I hadn’t been able to work feeling into my limbs, or into anywhere else in my body or spirit. I felt like my brain was taped up with bubble wrap and packed in a forgotten crate somewhere.

Invisible Friend Jesus sat quietly beside me. He didn’t have the air of someone waiting for me to speak, and for once he didn’t distract himself reading Cat Fancy or trying to knit. He didn’t ask me if I was okay, or tell me everything would be alright. If he had, son of God or no, I would have broken his jaw, and I’m sure he knew that.

“I knew this was going to happen,” I said. “Ever since you told me, way back almost a year ago, that I should just stop trying to fix things and let you handle it, I knew. I mean, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going to happen, the way things were going. But I still fought so hard against it. I didn’t really believe or understand you, when you told me to stop struggling. It didn’t make sense to me that I should just ‘let go and let God’, because how could I just give up personal responsibility when I knew I wasn’t acting right?”

He stretched his arms over the back of the couch and gave me his little smile. “People have a lot of ideas about what it means to ‘act right’. Think about it this way: when you’re writing a story, what does it mean for a character to ‘act right’? Does it mean they always have to do the ‘right thing’? That they’re always selfless and kind and morally correct?”

“No, it just means they have to act in character.” Invisible Friend Jesus lifted an eyebrow, and I winced. “So that’s my character? A bad person? And you’re cool with that? I thought religion was supposed to be about rising above your base nature to become a better person.”

Invisible Friend Jesus sighed, settling further into the couch cushions and crossing his legs. “God made each and every one of us in his image. It’s a slightly distorted image, true, because the physical realities of living in this world can surely twist a spirit out of whack. But still, God knew us in the womb, and loves each and every one of us just the way we are.”

“So that means that there is no sin? That we can just do whatever we want because it’s ‘in character’?” I scowled incredulously. “I’m sorry, Invisible Friend Jesus, but that’s not very enlightened.”

His smile got gentler and more amused, and he tapped his long fingers on the couch back. “That’s not what I’m saying. We sin when we do things against our true nature, things that separate us from God—who is our true nature, since we’re made in his image. God is big and complicated; He is all things, and there are a lot of different ways of being one with Him, depending on a person’s personality. But, like I said, the world is a messed-up place. It can get in the way and separate us from God by causing us to act out of hurt, anger, greed and loneliness. It can cause us to do things that hurt ourselves or others.”

My eyes filled with tears again, stinging and burning since I’d cried so much already, and I sniffed and dried them on my shirt. “I really tried, Invisible Friend Jesus. I tried to do the right thing and not act in hurtful ways. But I couldn’t get myself to stop… I tried to make him happy, but I couldn’t…”

I pressed my chin to my chest and squeezed my eyes shut as my body shook trying to contain and control all the bullshit I was feeling. Invisible Friend Jesus took my hand. I could feel the scar on his palm, and the callouses on his long fingers from all his knitting, cross-stitch and other weird projects.

“Listen, Tinkerbell,” he said. “When you were drinking like a lunatic and spending all that time away from home, what did you do?”

I sniffed. “I got better. I mean, I had to work at it, and pray myself half-crazy, but I got better. I’m really proud of myself for it.”

“And you should be. How about when you first moved to California and you were really angry, frustrated and fed-up, yelling at everyone all the time?”

I wiped my nose on my wrist, but didn’t bother with my eyes anymore; they felt swollen to the size of softballs and I didn’t want to touch them. “I worked at calming down, and got a lot better. But Invisible Friend Jesus─”

“You’re not perfect, it’s true, but luckily no one who’s rational expects you to be. Nobody’s perfect. Not even me.”

I giggled, which made a snot bubble swell and burst out of my left nostril. Invisible Friend Jesus burst into snorting laughter for about five minutes, because he’s a jerk, but he finally got himself to stop and conjured a tissue from the pocket of his white suit jacket.

I blew my nose and looked at him with a furrowed brow. “But you are perfect, Invisible Friend Jesus.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. Have you read about some of the stuff I did? I was kind of a dick sometimes.”

I gazed at him thoughtfully. “Yeah, I always wondered about that stuff. You know, calling gentile women dogs, and all that.”

He winced. “I was having a bad day. But I got over myself and cured that lady’s daughter anyway. The point is, I’m a human manifestation of God, and humans are imperfect. I’m God’s way of knowing, and of showing the world, that He understands what it’s like to be human. That he knows how hard it can be, how hurtful. How it can break you sometimes and make you act in ways you aren’t proud of, and how sometimes you end up in situations where it seems like there is no way to ‘act right’, and so you just have to muddle through the best you can. But God loves us, not in spite of, but because of all that because, in the end, being human is a beautiful thing.” He gazed at me with his little smile. “So, anyway, enough about me. You were able to quit some of your self-destructive and hurtful behaviors…”

I grimaced. “But some of the other ones…one other thing in particular…I tried to stop, but it was like I couldn’t. I could only ever last a few days.” A lump rose up in my throat. “If I could have just…I mean, I really didn’t want to destroy my life like this.” I pressed the soggy tissue into my eyes, fighting back sobs.

Invisible Friend Jesus squeezed my hand. “Let me ask you one thing, Tinkerbell. How do you feel right now?”

Tears streamed down my face, and he handed me another tissue. “How do you think I feel? Shitty. Angry. Devastated.”

“Yeah? Well, I mean, that’s understandable. You were just ambushed with divorce papers after almost ten years of a relationship, and two years of…well, you know. Let’s not get into the details again. You’re bound to feel messed up about it. But how else are you feeling?”

I wrapped my arms around myself. Invisible Friend Jesus scooted over and put his arm around my shoulders, and I hid my face in his neck. I got snot and tears all over him, but he didn’t seem to mind. I took deep breaths, and I thought about his question: How DO I feel? My brow furrowed. “I feel…actually, I feel better, to tell you the truth.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m pissed off and stuff because of, you know, how it happened, and how I tried so hard for years to make him happy, only to just fail and fail and fail…but, you know, other than that, I’m lighter. That pain and worry and guilt and desperation—all of it—it’s gone now. I feel peaceful.” I sat up, wiping my nose again. Invisible Friend Jesus gazed back at me with his serene little smile.

“That peace is where God is. That’s how you know you’re in the right place, doing the right thing.”

I scowled. “So God meant all that shit to happen to me? He wanted me to suffer like that?”

Invisible Friend Jesus rolled his eyes. “You know better than that, Tinkerbell. God doesn’t want people to suffer—God is the peace that helps us endure suffering, and avoid it when we can. But suffering happens no matter what. It’s just the way the world is. It’s a complicated and beautiful experiment…it’s part of what makes life life. Because, think about it: would you really want to read a story where nothing ever went wrong? Where there’s no conflict and tension? One of those stories where the perfect little characters hug and kiss and dance around baking cookies all day?”

“Shit no. I hate critiquing those stories. There’s no point to them. And I guess maybe you’re right, that it’d be boring to just sit around blissed out doing nothing all day.”

“It wouldn’t be life if it were like that. You’d never learn or grow or experience anything.”

“You’re right. But I mean…am I just here to entertain God? Give Him a good story? Is the Divine Plan just some sort of dramatic screenplay?”

“I’ve told you before the Divine Plan is a conspiracy theory, and you’re not here to entertain God. You’re here to entertain yourself, and write yourself into the best story you can. Your life may seem like it has a complicated narrative arc, with a lot of senseless and random shit happening, but you need to remember, the plotline doesn’t depend on just you: everyone is the main character of their own story, and those stories are constantly interweaving and clashing and shaping each other. It’s up to each person to learn and grow, find beauty and meaning, and craft their own narrative arc amidst the chaos. And sometimes, the plot that one person wants…well, sometimes the other characters don’t cooperate. That can be painful. It can suck ultimate shit, frankly, but the story goes on, and I know you, Tinkerbell: you’re a hell of a storyteller and you’ve got a lot of plot left in you.”

I wrinkled my nose, a grin creeping across my face. “Yeah, I got a few ideas for the next scene.” I pulled my knees up to my chest, settling back against Invisible Friend Jesus’ arm. “My life has crashed and burned more than most people’s it seems like, and I’ve had to start over more times than I’ve wanted. But, you know, this time, I don’t feel obligated to anyone—except my kid, and that doesn’t bother me, because she’s my little partner in crime. I love mobbing around with that girl, she doesn’t cramp my style except in the ways that it needs cramped. But, I mean, I don’t have anyone telling me what I need to do next, no dude that I feel obligated to follow around and try to make happy. I know the next scene isn’t going to be easy, but it’s cool that I get to write it the way I want this time. You know, as much as possible anyway. What I do next is my choice, and no one else’s.”

Invisible Friend Jesus’ smile widened, and he raised his chin. “True. Choose wisely, though, Tinkerbell, within the confines of your special brand of Tinkerbell wisdom, or you’ll just get bored with it or worse.”

I nodded, smirking. “Just help me out, because I get some crazy ideas sometimes.”

He laughed, stretching out on the couch with his back against the armrest and his bare feet in my lap. “Will do.” He got out his phone and started tapping away and scrolling through the Internet. “How about Utah? Or Puerto Rico? You could get a little apartment overlooking the ocean, write like Hunter S. Thompson, maybe teach English or whatever.”

I snort-laughed. “You’re an enabler, Invisible Friend Jesus.”

He shot me a smile over the top of his phone, but didn’t say anything.

 

Forming Lasting, Effective Critique Relationships – Revisited

To celebrate the lovely #SonOfAPitch writing contest, I wanted to revisit my post on forming lasting, effective critique relationships. Peer critiquing is a big part of this contest, and I think one of the best things that will come out of this is a whole bunch of new critique partnerships. Critique partnerships are SO important in the life of a writer; not only can they help you grow as a writer, but they can help you grow as a person. Some of my CPs have turned into amazing friends. We are there to support each other through all the ups and downs of being a writer, and I know I, for one, would not be where I am today as a writer or a person were it not for those friends (some of whom I met in Twitter contests like #SonOfAPitch).

However, critiquing and accepting critiques is definitely an art, and forming lasting, effective critique relationships can be very difficult for this reason. I wanted to impart some of the things I’ve learned, in hopes they will resonate with and help others.

I have been in a lot of critique groups and partnerships, and I owe so much thanks to my CPs and betas. I would never have gotten Love or Money or my upcoming Other Place series published if they hadn’t been there for me. I hope you have CPs as good as mine; if you don’t have them yet, try finding some on #SonOfAPitch!

Most articles on this subject concentrate on what you should and shouldn’t do as the person receiving the critique; however I’m mostly discuss what you should and shouldn’t do as the person giving the critique. I have never seen anyone kicked out of a group for getting defensive, etc. while receiving a critique. I have, however, seen people kicked out for the way they give critiques. Being a good critiquer is a difficult skill to master.

I will reiterate, however, that we shouldn’t get defensive, try to “explain” the manuscript, or interrupt the critiquer while receiving a critique. We shouldn’t…but of us probably have and/or will at some point. When you feel defensive, take a deep breath and try to center yourself before responding —and you should only usually have to respond “thank you!” If it’s an online critique relationship, you often have the luxury of taking a few hours (or even a day) before responding, and you should use that time if you need it so that you can avoid damaging the relationship. If it takes you longer than that to center yourself after receiving a critique, the critique relationship needs to be examined: either the person giving or receiving has issues.

If you are a critiquer on the receiving end of a writer’s defensive tirade about your critique, at least try to give the person a second chance, because we all get defensive sometimes. Be gentle with the person, if you can. If they’re acting badly enough that you can’t, once again: the critique relationship needs to be examined.

So, here is my advice about forming good critique relationships:

1. Find Good Critique Matches

This is often the most difficult step. Even if a person writes well, and/or is published; even if they write in your same genre; even if you love them to death as a person, that doesn’t mean they’ll make a good critique partner for you (and keep in mind: learning to be a good critique partner yourself is a huge step towards finding good CPs. No matter how awesome your own writing is and how nice you are as a person, if you’re consistently off-putting with your critiques, you’ll have trouble finding CPs).

I’ve found that the best critique partners are people who:

a. Have a working knowledge of the conventions of your genre, even if they don’t write it themselves;

b. Have knowledge of the path you’re seeking to publication, whether that be through an agent, a small publisher, or self-publishing, so they can give advice not only on the writing itself, but on ways it can be made more marketable in that venue;

c. Are, of course, good critiquers, who give clear and insightful advice in a pleasant way, and;

d. Their advice resonates with the writer not ALL the time, but A LOT of the time.

You’re probably not going to find a single person, much less a whole group of people, who fit all these criteria all the time—at least not right away. But if each one of you makes contact with at least one #SonOfAPitch peer critiquer who gave advice that resonated with you (on your pitch or other pitches), you might find a gem of a CP.

2. Read your partners’ pieces like a reader, not a writer.

This is truly, in my opinion, the most important part of being a good critiquer. Most of the bad critiques I’ve given and received, as well as most of the advice I give below, stems from the critiquer’s failure to read like a reader. Instead, they read like a writer, searching for ways the writer has violated the “rules”, or for other technical flaws.

My favorite technique to avoid this problem is, I read the piece through once without stopping. I don’t make copious notes. I pretend the work is already published, and that I have no hand in changing it. If, when I’m reading, something bugs me—interrupts the flow of the narrative, or pulls me out of the story—I mark that section. I don’t give the actual critique yet, so that I don’t interrupt my reading. Then, after I’ve read it through once as a reader, I go back as a writer and try to determine what, exactly, bugged me about the passages I’d marked.

Using the above technique will prevent us from looking for things to critique, without allowing ourselves the chance to become immersed in the writer’s voice and story. We’re writers, so if we see a grammar error or that a writing “rule” has been broken, we’re going to want to mark it. However, it’s not important whether or not the writer follows the “rules”: what’s important is whether or not the writing flows, is vivid, and makes sense.

3. Always assume your critique partner is employing a technique or device intentionally.

Don’t immediately assume your CP isn’t intelligent enough to know what they’re doing. For instance, if a character speaks or acts in unexpected ways, or if the plot takes a bizarre turn, certainly point out that it caught your attention, but assume there’s a reason for it. The writer may need to make that reason clearer if it is catching readers off-guard, but if you just tell them to change that part entirely (or, worse yet, rewrite it yourself), they’re just going to think you don’t “get” their writing, and will either dismiss your critique, get defensive, or try to explain it to you instead of making revisions that might make their writing better while still adhering to their vision.

4. Don’t give style critiques.

This is tricky, because from our subjective points of view, there’s a fine line between a style we don’t enjoy, and what would simply be considered bad writing.

For instance, some people are very descriptive. This style was more in vogue in ye olden days; Dumas could spend three paragraphs describing the embroidery on a minor character’s doublet. He also gratuitously employed deux ex machina, and the most dramatic, ridiculous cliffhangers known to man.

There are very few serious critics that would say Dumas is a bad writer. However, if you write in his style nowadays, you’ll likely be laughed out of the room. Is this right or wrong?

Well, both. It’s perfectly acceptable to tell a critique partner that, in your opinion, their descriptions are slowing their pacing. But, do try to be objective about each piece, and ask yourself: is this a type of writing that someone else might enjoy? We can all probably agree that a writer doesn’t need to describe the arrangement and appearance of every piece of furniture in the house. Nor is it advisable to introduce the reader to every character with a long list of physical and personal attributes, accompanied by a heaping portion of backstory. But I’ve read page-long character descriptions that I thought worked within the context of the story’s voice and structure. It all depends on who’s reading and who’s writing.

Similarly, short sentences are in fashion lately; but have you ever read anything by Charles Dickens? That man could write a sentence that twisted like a mile-long rollercoaster track. And he was good at it.

Also: sentence fragments. Some people use them to great effect. Others, not so much, perhaps.

There is no right or wrong way to write. Even if a person’s style isn’t fashionable at the moment, or isn’t to your taste, that doesn’t mean they need to change it (and, once a writer’s style has matured to a certain point, they probably can’t really change it). All you can do is humbly tell the writer when something isn’t working for you. If they continue to write in that style, don’t harp on the same issues, group after group. Look for other ways in which the writer might grow in skill, and help them to become the best writer they can be, while staying true to their personal style. If you really just think someone’s style is terrible, though…or if they’re what you would term a terrible writer, and are making no progress in improving…the critique match may not be a good one. However, I have never had a CP whose writing hasn’t improved over time. It takes longer for some than others, but I LOVE watching my friends get better at writing (I hope they feel the same way about me). It’s a beautiful process to watch, and learn from, because sometimes a person’s style grows on me, and I’m able to grow as a critiquer when I watch their style develop: it helps me to see the difference between a style I don’t care for and what is simply bad writing, and I’m able to apply that knowledge to my own writing, as well as to other critiques.

5. Don’t apply writing “rules” arbitrarily.

I cannot say this enough: it is never, ever a valid critique to say, “You should take this out/change this because it violates [writing rule].” There are no true rules to writing. Adages like “Show Don’t Tell”, “Don’t Use Passive Voice”, and “The Road to Hell is Paved with Adverbs” exist because they will, indeed, make your writing better if you are mindful of them. But—and I have seen this happen many, many times—they can also make your writing worse if they’re applied indiscriminately, and can cause much frustration and confusion if you apply them arbitrarily and without elaboration in your critiques.

So say, for instance, that you get a piece from a CP that starts off with the main character waking up. It goes through her whole routine of getting dressed (with lengthy descriptions of each clothing item and where it was purchased). It rambles on about her making breakfast, tells you how she likes her eggs, then has her sitting there, sipping coffee, and recollecting a huge fight she’d had the night before with her mother. It tells you, furthermore, that the fight occurred because the main character is a very stubborn and willful person, and her mother is condescending and cruel.

This, of course, breaks a billion writing “rules”. It’s not a helpful critique, though, to just chant, “Show Don’t Tell, Don’t Info-Dump or Frontload with Backstory, Don’t Give Unnecessary Details,” etc. Instead, tell the writer why the piece didn’t work for you. Get to the reasons why the “writing rules” exist in the first place.

In this example, you could say, “The beginning didn’t really hook me. The pacing was off, because there are details included that might not be important to the plot or character development—like, unless her egg preference is important later in the story, you don’t need to include it now. You might want to show us the fight with the mother (if it’s important to the plot), instead of telling us about it. That way, you can show us through dialogue and action that the characters are willful and condescending, etc., instead of saying it. That method of character development makes people more invested in your characters.”

You need to tell the writer why the piece isn’t working—not just that it has broken the rules. One reason for this is that if you simply tell a writer things like, “Don’t info-dump,” they might not be entirely clear on what info they’re dumping (even seasoned writers can have blind spots about this sort of thing sometimes). Additionally, if the info is something the reader needs to know, the writer might dismiss your critique as you just not understanding their story. They may not realize that what you meant by “don’t info-dump” is that the pacing at the beginning was off for you, and they need to work that necessary information in a different way, or in a different place. You will both have missed an opportunity for that person to grow as a writer.

Breaking a writing “rule” means nothing if the why doesn’t occur; I have read pieces that begin a lot like the one I described above but, because it was appropriate within the context of the voice and the story, it was actually compelling for me. If I had been on the lookout for broken writing “rules”, I wouldn’t have allowed myself to get lost in the story, and I might not have realized that the pacing was fine and that the writing was good, despite the broken “rule”.

The same concept applies for things like use of adverbs and adjectives. Some writers overuse them in early drafts, but some of them add to the writing, and are consistent with the writer’s style. Do not cross adjectives or adverbs unless they are redundant and unnecessary—unless the adjective or adverb was already implied by the dialogue or narrative (or could be with slight revision).

I also want to talk about passive voice: I have seen so much confusion (and have been confused) by people saying, “Don’t use passive voice,” when there is none in the piece. For instance:

The hat was worn.

This is passive voice. The person/thing doing the action is unknown or hidden. This sentence should be changed to “Sally wore the hat,” unless there is a compelling reason why the reader should not know who is wearing the hat.

Sally was wearing the hat.

This is NOT passive. “Was wearing” is past continuous tense, and you could cause a lot of confusion and frustration by calling it passive. Some people are also against using the continuous tenses, but one of my pet peeves is reading pieces that are convoluted and murky because the writer has meticulously avoided any use of the continuous tense.

Also: “Kill your Darlings”. I have seen this adage wielded like a weapon, seemingly to get writers to cut out all the best bits of their work. The point of “Kill your Darlings” is not to homogenize your writing and remove all traces of personal voice. The point is, you shouldn’t be averse to removing a particularly good or clever bit of writing if it is unnecessary to the story, and interrupts the flow of the narrative. If it adds to the narrative, even if just to set the scene or develop a character more vividly even if it doesn’t much advance the plot, you should probably leave it (depending, as always, on context).

In summation, when you apply any writing “rule” indiscriminately, you run the risk of making the writer feel like you’re lecturing them on basic writing techniques, and of having them walk away with no clear idea of how to improve the piece.

6. Don’t waste too much time on formatting issues, nitpicking “nonstandard” usages, or even correcting grammar.

This one is hard for some people. We are writers, after all, and our eye starts twitching if someone neglects to use an Oxford comma, or thinks “alright” is a word, not to mention the catastrophe of misusing “there, their, they’re”.

I once was in a group with a man who gave me an impassioned fifteen-minute lecture every time I used the three-dot ellipsis format. He insisted that, if ellipses come at the end of a sentence, they should have three periods followed by the sentence’s natural punctuation. I finally gave in, since I was tired of listening to him. Then, when I signed with Limitless Publishing for Love or Money and The Other Place series, they had me change all my ellipses back to the three-dot format. Imagine my joy.

There are many different style guides and schools of thought with regard to things like punctuation, formatting, and formal usages. If someone subscribes to a different school than you, it’s not your duty to evangelize them. (I’ll come out of the closet here and say that I use “alright” often, especially in dialogue. I know it’s nonstandard in the U.S., but I have very good reasons for doing it. If you nitpick this fact in group, you and I are going to spend the whole two hours arguing, because we’re writers, and these are the things we care about. Don’t let it happen, people).

Additionally, while part of the function of a critique group is to catch the odd grammar snafu here and there, it is not its purpose to teach grammar to any of its members. If someone is a chronic grammar-offender, point out the nature of their transgressions once, and perhaps direct them to an online or community college course. Then let it drop so we don’t spend the whole allotted time blathering on about that shit.

Advice on How to Apply Critiques

Now that we’ve covered how to be a good critiquer, let’s talk about how to apply critiques.

It is sometimes difficult to absorb the (sometimes conflicting) advice we get from critiquers, and to apply it to our work. My method is this: I listen politely (or with relative politeness—my natural baseline of rudeness is pretty high) to all critiques. If I’m having particular problems with a piece, I will gather dozens and dozens of different critiques. I will never prompt a critiquer by telling them what my specific worries are, because that can make them look for that problem and find it, even if they wouldn’t have seen it otherwise. (I do, however, sometimes ask leading questions after they’ve given their critique, to fish out any issues they may have that they didn’t think important enough to mention).

Then, I weigh the advice based on the following criteria:

1. Did the advice resonate with me? That is, did it make sense and seem like good advice?

2. Did more than one critiquer have a similar issue? Or, did they have different issues, but with the same section?

3. Is the critiquer a member of the target audience for my piece?

It’s usually best to address these questions a few days after the critique, after it’s had a chance to sink in and any butthurt has healed. We can get defensive, even when we’re not supposed to, and that can affect our ability to see a piece of advice objectively and know if it’s good or not.

Even if the advice doesn’t resonate with you, you might want to reconsider applying it anyhow if more than one person had the same opinion. And if a certain section is bugging a lot of people, even if they state different reasons as to why, it’s probable that you should revise that section, one way or another.

Even if your critiquer isn’t in your target audience, it doesn’t mean they don’t have a valid opinion about your work. But it can make certain types of advice less trustworthy. For instance, when that 80-year-old who only writes technical pieces tells you that “you can’t have characters in a YA novel use foul language”, or “teenagers don’t talk/act like that”, you can safely ignore them. And perhaps laugh at them behind their backs, although that’s kind of mean.

Thus concludes my long list of advice. Do you have any other advice or experiences you’d like to share? Please comment below, because non-spam blog comments make me giggle and bounce in my seat with happiness.