Mette Ivie Harrison's Blog, page 19

The Future of SF

Back in the 90s, when I was in my early 20s, I went to a local SF con. A big name author was there and gave this long keynote address on how “all those Star Trek novels,” ie any novels that were “derivative” or pop cultural were ruining the whole genre. He claimed that the reason for this was that they were taking up “resources” from publishers, but not adding anything new. No new ideas, no new readers, nothing.

Well, I felt like he was telling me that I was included in his club anymore. Not the first time I’d heard it, but the first time I’d heard it from someone I really respected. I looked at my life. I had been 12 when Jedi came out and I practically memorized it, I loved it so much. After that, I found Star Trek via the James Blish adaptations of the original series (because my parents thought it was too “racy” with interracial kissing and short skirts to allow me to watch the show itself). I read dozens of the Star Trek novels, and when NG came on, I both loved and hated it, because I had loved the original so much.

But in the meantime, I was reading everything Asimov ever wrote. I was reading a bunch of other stuff, too, Sherlock Holmes, Perry Mason, James Bond, and romance novels. I read tons of so-called “derivative” stuff. I also worked my way through all the lists of 100 greatest novels ever written that I got from librarians and English teachers. I read The Odyssey, The Iliad, all of Mark Twain, all of Shakespeare, Alexandre Dumas (whom I hated because too much soap opera), Louisa May Alcott, Greek Myths, the Bible in its entirety, Jane Austen, the Brontes, Faulkner, Mary Shelley, and on and on.

This idea that people who love TV shows and movies are lesser than the elites who like books is ridiculous. The idea that people only read one kind of book=also ridiculous. Book readers love lots of kinds of books. Maybe they don’t like your books, but that doesn’t mean they’re stupid. It just means they either a) aren’t ready for them or b) are never going to like them. And that’s OK.

As a teen, I loved Gilligan’s Island, Three’s Company, and Dr. Who. I loved Hart to Hart and Magnum P.I. and The Incredible Hulk. I loved Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. I was a consumer, and I consumed lots of things. I believe that what I create today is fueled by my excitement in the past and my excitement in the future for story, for information, for words, for entertainment. This is a good thing and not one to be ridiculed.

If you were someone who loved pop culture, who grew up on Star Trek novels and Star Wars memorabilia, reblog this. We are the future of sf, and we are awesome!

Greatest Love Stories

They’re all tragic, right?

1. Romeo and Juliet

2. Gone With the Wind

3. Remains of the Day

4. Casablanca

5. Brokeback Mountain

6. The Age of Innocence

7. Tristan and Isolde

8. Lancelot and Guinevere

9. Wuthering Heights

10. Robin Hood and Maid Marian

11. The Fault in Our Stars

12.The Notebook

13. Eleanor and Park

14. The Time Traveler’s Wife

15. Cold Mountain

Except for:

1. Pride and Prejudice

2. Rebecca

3. Outlander

4. Anna and the French Kiss

5. The Princess Bride

What does this mean? Do we like tragic love stories more than ones that end happily? Do we believe that love cannot hold, and so it can only exist in the minds of those who have lost it in the past? Is love inherently outside the bounds of normal, polite society?

Obviously, we want love to demand great sacrifices and for there to be plenty of angst around it, but why is it that so many of the greatest love stories end unhappily?

Forgiveness and Miracles

Forgiveness isn't the same as "letting it go" or "understanding the other person's side of it." The latter two are good, important things for getting along in the real world and moving forward in your life. I am starting to get better at them.
But forgiveness is something else. I think I have only really experienced it once in my life, and it was a gift. It wasn't something I asked for, because I didn't know what it was or how much I needed it. I think I was too angry even to want it.
Forgiveness is when the pain and anger and hurt is washed away and gone, as if it had never been. It is the closest I have ever really come to feeling the presence of God in my life, the sense that this is the way *He* does it, even if it's not the way that *I* ever have. Being able to stop hurting is a real miracle, perhaps one of the few left in our technological world.

Stupid Things I Really Did and Wish I Hadn't (as an author)

1. Sent in a partial for an unfinished manuscript to a contest. I got exactly what I deserved, which was a request for the full, which I hurried to complete—and which, of course, did not win.

2. Wrote a 3-page query letter to a publisher, explaining in a long-winded academic way, how my book was superior to all the others in the field. My sister, who was actually serious about publication, laughed for days when she read it.

3. Sent a manuscript in to a publisher that was a “joint venture,” meaning they asked for the author to help pay for publication. In this case, I got a very nice letter from an editor who told me my book was too good for this kind of a place and I should send it on to real publishers. It was really better luck than I deserved.

4. Sent my manuscript to “Dear Acquisitions Editor” because Writer’s Market suggested it. I could have called and found a name, but I didn’t bother. I don’t know how I ended up getting a book published this way, but I did.

5. Sent in several horrible inept picture book manuscripts to editors, including one about a girl who punched a bully in the face and was never bothered again.

6. After I got an agent, sent a book to an editor without telling my agent she even had it. A month later, my agent went to lunch with said editor, who talked about my manuscript, which he hadn’t sent or even known about. He was (rightly) furious.

7. Sent a letter to a well-known author, begging her for help with my poor manuscript, which I had written in part as an homage to her book. Kind author actually looked at three chapters and gently encouraged me to write a new novel that was entirely mine.

8. Went to a writing workshop after I had gotten my first manuscript accepted for publication. I was supposed to be an “assistant” to the well-known author who was teaching, but I kept interrupting and correcting him in my enthusiasm and confidence. After that, I stopped going to writing workshops until I was asked to teach them.

9. Sending out blurb requests to authors I knew and didn’t know, begging them to help a fellow author out. Then not following their instructions when they asked me to send manuscript to agent.

10. Rewriting a fantasy novel so that it was “more like Twilight.”

A New Ending

I am working once more on a novel with an ending I have to change. Why do I have to change it? Because I wanted the story to end happily. I really did. I fell in love with my characters and with the parts of them that are me, and I wanted to use my fiction as a way to give myself the happy ending that I thought I deserved.

Guess what?

Multiple readers have now told me that the ending doesn’t work. Why doesn’t it work? Because I have already written into the characters the problems that make a happy ending impossible. One part of my mind is writing truth, and the other part of my mind is writing the fantasy that gives a happily ever after ending.

Don’t get me wrong. HEAs are great. Some books have them. I have written books with HEAs before. But here’s the thing: a lot of books you think have HEAs actually don’t. That is, they have a satisfying and perfect ending, but there are also losses suffered to get even that small portion of HEA.

So I’m taking away the HEA, and figuring out a new HEA. That’s another great thing about revising a book. It forces you to find a better ending than the one you originally conceived. Because you usually think of that ending when you’re at the beginning of the book, and as you write and revise, your characters grow beyond that ending. They deserve more, and I’m working hard to give it to them.

In other news, writing is hard. And revising is harder.

The Perfect Editor

This in response to a favorite post from http://editorialass.blogspot.com/2007/09/what-makes-dream-author_24.html

1. Gets what I write. This means that when we talk about the business and books in general, we like a lot of the same things and have a similar sense of where the industry should be headed.
2. Has a vision for my book that makes me say “yes.” Even if an editor and I agree on a lot of other books, we don’t necessarily agree when it comes to my specific book. I’ve learned over the years that some editors are really nice people personally, but trying to please them when it comes to writing is a recipe for disaster. If I don’t get excited after talking to an editor about working on the book pretty soon, that is a bad sign.
3. Connects with me on a personal level. Maybe this shouldn’t be true, but I’m not sure that I can work well with an editor that I don’t have a similar communication style to. I need to enjoy talking to this person, even if we don’t need to talk for months on end. It should be enjoyable and not a chore.
4. Keeps me updated on where the book is. I’d like to have a general idea of when the editor will get back to me with an editorial letter. After that, I would love to know if it’s gone to copyediting, when my deadlines are, if ARCs are available, if reviews have been printed (sometimes I want to see them, sometimes not), and anything that will affect sales (like a feud with B&N or Amazon).
5. Sends me love notes. I suppose this isn’t always possible, but any positive news about the book keeps me excited about it, and engaged, and that seems like a good thing. So what the sales force is saying about the book, emails from people who are excited about it, etc. can do wonders to make me feel like I’m a valuable property and it makes me want to work harder.
6. Makes sure to meet up with me at conferences. Ideally, it would be great to do programming together, to be invited to go to conferences at the publisher’s expense, but that isn’t always going to happen. So doing dinner or lunch when you’re both in the same place is nice, too. And if I need a place to stay in your city, it would be great if you would offer me your couch.
7. Communicates with my agent well. My agent keeps track of things that I don’t and don’t want to, so it’s great when my agent and editor are congenial at least and I don’t have to think about things like marketing plans, following up on contracts, and things like making sure I get my royalty checks on time.
8. Roots for my book in-house. I have seen how important this is, not only to get excitement going, but also to keep the book in the minds of the marketing arm and the business arm. If my book runs out of the first edition, the editor notices soon and makes sure it gets reprinted before all the orders end. Also, talks up the book to everyone she knows.
9. Brainstorms about ways to promote the book. I know a lot of people think this is the job of marketing, but it starts with someone in house and the best person for that is your editor.
10. Knows I am not going to take all the suggestions. There is some give and take, and while I trust my editor in general, I also trust myself and my gut. If the suggestion isn’t working, I’ll go back to the beginning. I’ll try my own ideas. I’m not saying I’m always right, but don’t be offended if I don’t always do what you say.
11. Never EVER tells me to write a book like “x.” I’m not another writer. I’m me. I can’t write a book like someone else. You can send me books to read for me to think about. I’m fine with that, but don’t pressure me to tell the story you think someone else wants. And don’t write it yourself, either.
12. I’m fine with you writing things in verbatim as an idea of how to do it. I will almost always rewrite it my own way. That’s not because you’re a bad writer. It’s just because you’re not me.
13. Ideally, it will sometimes feel like we are reading each other’s minds and finishing each other’s sentences. You can’t make this happen, but when it does—wow, that is magic!
14. Sometimes, I’d like an editor to be a little in awe or how great a passage or a certain twist is. You really can’t tell an author too much how brilliant we are. Really.

Books Read in May 2014

The Infinite Moment of Us by Lauren Myracle

Insomnia by J.R. Johansson

House of Ivy and Sorrow by Natalie Whipple

The Humans by Matt Haig

We Were Liars by E. Lockhart

In the Woods (audio) by Tana French

500 Ways to Write Harder by Chuck Wendig

Bossypants by Tina Fey

Why Kings Confess by C.S Harris

All The Truth that's In Me by Julie Berry

Death on Blackheath by Anne Perry

One Came Home by Amy Timberlake

Prisoner of Night and Fog by Anne Blankman

Prayers for the Stolen by Jennifer Clement

Skin Game (audio) by Jim Butcher

Ophelia and the Marvelous Boy by Karen Foxlee

Many Hats

When I imagined what an author did as a teenager, it was basically sitting at a computer, typing away. Or possibly, when I was a younger teenager, getting a notebook out and writing with a pen or pencil. Or inbetween those ages, using a typewriter.

This imaginary world of the author was enormously attractive to me at the time. I was socially awkward in the extreme, blurting out things (true things!) at inappropriate times to the wrong people. I was sure that “impressing” someone meant offering a list of my accomplishments. I believed that boys liked smart girls, and that publishers would want to publish the best books written by scholarly people who were inventing new genres and obliterating the old conventions (since this is what I learned in graduate school the “best authors” did).

My first query letter as an adult was, in fact, several pages long and all about how I was deconstructing the genre conventions I was writing for. I sent a copy to my older sister, who was a more experienced writer (and person) than I was, and she laughed out loud for several minutes.

Fast forward a few years, and my first book came out. I was a stay-at-home mom of five young kids and I wrote during nap time, before the kids woke up, or late at night. I was an “author” when I was in my office, typing away. The rest of the time I was a mom.

I knew that other authors did things called “school visits.” I knew that they were asked to do book signings and sometimes other appearances. But I was genuinely terrified of such things. I avoided all book signings (not a difficult thing to do when you’re small potatoes). I didn’t know how to talk to bookstore people. I didn’t know how to talk to strangers passing in the store. I occasionally worked up the nerve to give short presentations to other authors, dripping sweat as I did so.

Authors are authors, I thought. I didn’t understand why I should have to also be a standup comic, a counselor, a social media diva, a business person, and a celebrity all at once. Writers sit in their caves and write, don’t they? Why did I have to have author photos taken and think about lighting and makeup and hair?

After some years, I have come to a conclusion. Authors wear many hats. Sometimes we sit in our caves and write, but this is only a small part of the job. We are also “personalities.” We are sometimes asked to write essays on non-fiction topics. We have political opinions. We support friends and their books or Kickstarters. We go to parties and make conversation with strangers. We schmooze and impress people. We are sometimes on television or radio. We promote and charm and go back to our hotel rooms and try to get in some words for the day. Because, frankly, the writing has become the easy part of the job.

And guess what? This is true for everyone. Grown ups wear a lot of hats. No job is just one thing. Humans can be flexible, and so we are forced to be flexible. Computers aren’t flexible. That’s why they can’t do the jobs that humans do yet. Maybe someday computers will write stories that will be worth reading, but will they ever be able to be on stage and make jokes? Will they impress people? I think not.

So to other authors out there lamenting the fact that they can’t sit in their caves and write, I say, grow up! (Because this is what I tell myself, as well.) You aren’t one thing, and maybe it’s a good thing for you. Because your writing is going to reflect your life experience on some level, and you want your life experience to be as rich as possible. You want to write new things that you didn’t know about ten years ago.

Get out your hats and look in the mirror and try them on! You may find you like them, after all!

Art is Priceless

Art is Priceless
It sounds pretentious to think of yourself as an artist, when you’re a writer and all you’re doing is putting words on a computer screen. You don’t use paints or marble or building materials. You don’t make music or create something that can be experienced in one moment. It takes a long time for the reader to experience the art of the novel.
You don’t know if your book is going to be one of the ones that for politically complicated reasons ends up being assigned in high school or college English classes a hundred years from now. You don’t know if critics will compare later artists to your work or call you an “innovator.” You don’t know if even one person will read your book. You don’t even know if it will get published, and surely publication is the stamp of approval on any book that means it is on the path to being considered great.
But the desire to get reviews, stars, sales numbers, advance numbers, or to end up on some list of “greatest novels” somewhere in the top 100 is the desire to put limits on something that has no limits. It is also an attempt to get validation outside of yourself for something that is ultimately an expression OF yourself. Ultimately, I think this is impossible.
I am not saying that you shouldn’t ever show your work to other people, or that you should never edit or revise. Obviously, you should. This is part of your apprenticeship. You compare your work to other work and you improve. But you also change. You remember studying Picasso in college? He went through stages. Is one stage better than the next? No, though one critic may prefer one stage over another. At a certain point, artists stop learning how to be masters and begin simply creating art for a different purpose, to express a new version of themselves.
The more we try to get outside validation for the production of our art, the more we enter it into a capitalistic product game. Art is really outside of that, or it should be. Work on your art. Try to sell it. But if you don’t sell it, don’t assume it is because it wasn’t good enough. It might have been bad. It might have been ahead of its time. It might have taught you what you need to know to create a better piece.
But it’s art and art is priceless. If you have ever seen a piece of art and thought how obscene it is to put a number price on something that is priceless, think of your own art that way. Learn to let go of the need to put numbers on something that is outside of the boundaries of our world. Art makes us come out of ourselves. It makes the viewer expand and feel things that cannot be explained or confined. So don’t talk about your art as if its only value is a commercial one.
Your art is priceless because you are priceless, and your art expresses you as best you can.

Designing a Full Character Arc

One of the most common problems I see in beginner (and even some advanced) novels is staring with a character who is too good, too perfect, too sympathetic—about everything. Don’t readers want a sympathetic character? Yes, of course they do. But I do not think that word means what you think it means. A sympathetic character isn’t one who can do everything well. It isn’t even a character who always does the right/kind thing to do in any given situation. A sympathetic character is one who feels real to the reader, one with virtues as well as flaws. A sympathetic character is a beginning point. A sympathetic character is not a hero.

Because heroes are built with lots of adventures behind them. You can’t have that when you’re writing the first book about your character. You have to start small and build from there. Think about how much change is realistic during the course of your novel. If you have several years to play with, you can show a lot of character development. If you have a few months, it’s less. If you’re doing a novel in a few days or weeks, you have a lot less.

If you have a character who starts out as perfect, as untouchable, you end up with a flat arc of development. You don’t want that. So build in the pars of the plot where your character is going to end up being shown his/her mistakes in a big way. Build in villains, friends, mentors, and everyone you can think of who will challenge the main character’s assumptions. Everything your character assumes is good about him/herself is on the table. It should all be snatched away. Your character needs to be forced to rebuild everything from the ground up.