Rod Raglin's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing"
The Miracle of New Relationships
“I don’t agree.”
“Critiques are not about right or wrong, Marjorie. They’re just an opinion for you to consider or disregard.”
Marjorie is one of the members of a creative writing circle I facilitate at a seniors’ residence. She’s brought the group her next weekly post for her blog, 'Marjorie Remembers'. Like all her writing, it’s very good. But like all writing, it isn’t perfect.
Marjorie writes about growing up on the prairies; dust storms, blizzards, snaring gophers, one room school houses, and the bonds of rural communities. The stories are filled with high drama, history, and caring.
Marjorie wants to write better and seriously considers all comments, but she is also a staunch defender of her work.
Next up is David. He reads a short story about a mercy killing in which a husband confesses to smothering his terminally ill wife. It’s a poignant story that asks more questions than it answers and all within about five hundred words. David is a retired United Church Minister.
The group has some questions about clarification and structure of his story. David listens, nods, and makes notes.
Kay reads us her Christmas poem. It’s a thoughtful witty piece about retirees celebrating the season around the pool in Florida. It’s four stanzas, of four lines – flawless meter and not a trace of forced rhyme.
Nothing but praise for Kay, who smiles graciously.
Elizabeth reads the last submission. It’s a memoir of her move from Trinidad, where she and she and her husband served as a missionaries, to rural New Brunswick where he had his first parish.
It it’s a remarkable tale of change, adversary and the resilience of the human spirit. It’s also an accounting of the ordeals of a mother and homemaker in rural Canada fifty years ago.
Elizabeth has a gift for writing humour and her entertaining stories always have the group chuckling.
“I’d cut the first six paragraphs,” says David. “All back story that the reader doesn’t need to know.”
Elizabeth frowns. “I see your point, David.”
I’m pleased because this is an issue that we frequently address. It would be easier to help them improve if they all weren’t such accomplished writers. As it is, their stories are very good as they’re presented and the changes will only make subtle improvements. However, we all recognize that a critique that doesn’t contain criticism is an oxymoron.
I had no idea what to expect when I began facilitating the Creative Writing Circle in the library of the residence. I worried that it might be and hour and a half of listening to bad writing, insincere, vague and unproductive comments, and assuaging hurt feelings. Did I really want to do this? Would teaching really be ‘learning twice’?
What I’ve learned about writing has been overshadowed by what I’ve learned about life. My hard core group are four sophisticated, educated and successful individuals who are also accomplished writers.
There stories have stimulated, entertained and educated me and I have added more than a tweak here and a suggestion there in improving them.
They have inspired me with their continuing thirst for knowledge, they way they still embrace a world that is evolving faster everyday, their generosity of spirit and their firm grasp of what is really important in this world. They live every day with passion and intensity tempered with a pragmatic realism.
Two months ago Kay died. Sweet, petite Kay was found in her bed surrounded by her papers and books. She was determined to write something unique and significant about the evils of war. She’d seen enough of them. She was ninety-five when she died.
That brought the average age of the members (facilitator not included) down to ninety years old.
I use to think there was not one good thing about growing old. My group has taught me that physical aging is a fact, but being old is an attitude.
Learning need never end, the beauty of nature can continue to inspire, and with every new person we meet we can experience the miracle of unique relationship that enriches our life and our spirit.
“Critiques are not about right or wrong, Marjorie. They’re just an opinion for you to consider or disregard.”
Marjorie is one of the members of a creative writing circle I facilitate at a seniors’ residence. She’s brought the group her next weekly post for her blog, 'Marjorie Remembers'. Like all her writing, it’s very good. But like all writing, it isn’t perfect.
Marjorie writes about growing up on the prairies; dust storms, blizzards, snaring gophers, one room school houses, and the bonds of rural communities. The stories are filled with high drama, history, and caring.
Marjorie wants to write better and seriously considers all comments, but she is also a staunch defender of her work.
Next up is David. He reads a short story about a mercy killing in which a husband confesses to smothering his terminally ill wife. It’s a poignant story that asks more questions than it answers and all within about five hundred words. David is a retired United Church Minister.
The group has some questions about clarification and structure of his story. David listens, nods, and makes notes.
Kay reads us her Christmas poem. It’s a thoughtful witty piece about retirees celebrating the season around the pool in Florida. It’s four stanzas, of four lines – flawless meter and not a trace of forced rhyme.
Nothing but praise for Kay, who smiles graciously.
Elizabeth reads the last submission. It’s a memoir of her move from Trinidad, where she and she and her husband served as a missionaries, to rural New Brunswick where he had his first parish.
It it’s a remarkable tale of change, adversary and the resilience of the human spirit. It’s also an accounting of the ordeals of a mother and homemaker in rural Canada fifty years ago.
Elizabeth has a gift for writing humour and her entertaining stories always have the group chuckling.
“I’d cut the first six paragraphs,” says David. “All back story that the reader doesn’t need to know.”
Elizabeth frowns. “I see your point, David.”
I’m pleased because this is an issue that we frequently address. It would be easier to help them improve if they all weren’t such accomplished writers. As it is, their stories are very good as they’re presented and the changes will only make subtle improvements. However, we all recognize that a critique that doesn’t contain criticism is an oxymoron.
I had no idea what to expect when I began facilitating the Creative Writing Circle in the library of the residence. I worried that it might be and hour and a half of listening to bad writing, insincere, vague and unproductive comments, and assuaging hurt feelings. Did I really want to do this? Would teaching really be ‘learning twice’?
What I’ve learned about writing has been overshadowed by what I’ve learned about life. My hard core group are four sophisticated, educated and successful individuals who are also accomplished writers.
There stories have stimulated, entertained and educated me and I have added more than a tweak here and a suggestion there in improving them.
They have inspired me with their continuing thirst for knowledge, they way they still embrace a world that is evolving faster everyday, their generosity of spirit and their firm grasp of what is really important in this world. They live every day with passion and intensity tempered with a pragmatic realism.
Two months ago Kay died. Sweet, petite Kay was found in her bed surrounded by her papers and books. She was determined to write something unique and significant about the evils of war. She’d seen enough of them. She was ninety-five when she died.
That brought the average age of the members (facilitator not included) down to ninety years old.
I use to think there was not one good thing about growing old. My group has taught me that physical aging is a fact, but being old is an attitude.
Learning need never end, the beauty of nature can continue to inspire, and with every new person we meet we can experience the miracle of unique relationship that enriches our life and our spirit.
Published on March 03, 2013 00:31
•
Tags:
aging, miracle, relationships, teaching, writing
Leaving genre
"If reading a story is like taking a trip, then the literary novel or short story is adventure travel: we don’t know when and how we’ll eat or sleep, we have only a glimmer of where we’re going, and we usually end up dirty, startled, disillusioned, or exhilarated. We’re hitchhiking, backpacking, taking the third-class train, and getting to know the countryside. In the end, we know both ourselves and the world better; we’ve grown and changed in the process.
The genre novel, on the other hand, is like a package tour. We don’t expect to have our view of the world unsettled. What we want is a cruise with all the expenses paid ahead of time, umbrella drinks by the pool, and a good floorshow in the evenings. Genres are all about the pleasures of the familiar."
- The Longman Guide to Intermediate and Advanced Fiction Writing
- by Sarah Stone and Ron Nyren
I had a plan to become a published author.
I would write romance novel(s) because they are the most read (biggest market) of any kind of fiction and the easiest to get published. This is not to say that authors of genre fiction aren’t good writers. I sometimes think it’s more difficult to be creative when you have restrictions.
Back to the plan.
Once I had a bit of a publishing track record traditional publishers of mainstream, literary fiction would be more likely to consider me. Right?
I wrote three contemporary romance novels. All have been e-published. All have bombed. No traditional publishers of literary fiction are knocking on my door.
What happened?
My novels, I’ve been told, were not popular with romance readers for a number of reasons. I didn’t introduce the love interests soon enough. My ‘Happily Ever After’ was lukewarm or not at all. I needed to ‘sex it up’. My subplots overshadowed the romance. My heroes lacked testosterone. My heroines didn’t show enough vulnerability. My words were too big, my plots too real, my characters too unlikable. My stories were out of control.
I suspect it might have something to do with the notion “you are what you read” – more specifically, you write what you read.
When I read I want the experience of the literary novel, such as described in the opening quote from the The Longman Guide to Intermediate and Advanced Fiction Writing by Sarah Stone and Ron Nyren. Writing for me is the same. I want adventure – similar to my style of hiking. When I head into the backcountry I like to leave the marked trail. At least once I want experience the panic of being lost – I don’t know where I am, where I’m going, or how or when I’ll get back. Terror is undeniably exhilarating, and overcoming it is oh so satisfying.
I miss the adventure when I conform to the confines of genre fiction. That and the fact that I don’t do it well, makes moving on (not necessarily upward) easy, without risk or anxiety, and without even the faintest indication of success.
Norman Mailer said, “Until you see where your ideas lead to, you know nothing.” This is resonates for me. Especially “the you know nothing” part.
"What’s important, finally, is that you create, and that those creations define for you what matters most, that which cannot be extinguished even in the face of silence, solitude, and rejection."
- Betsy Lerner
The Forest for the Trees
An Editor’s Advice to Writers
It appears that I’m in the company of a lot of great writers, at least in sentiment if not talent. I will continue to do what matters most for me in the “face of silence, solitude and rejection.” And rejection. And rejection.
According to George Seidel, author of The Crisis of Creativity; “An artist will always have one thing no one else can have: a life within a life.” Ultimately, that may be my only accomplishment.
Is that a bad thing?
The genre novel, on the other hand, is like a package tour. We don’t expect to have our view of the world unsettled. What we want is a cruise with all the expenses paid ahead of time, umbrella drinks by the pool, and a good floorshow in the evenings. Genres are all about the pleasures of the familiar."
- The Longman Guide to Intermediate and Advanced Fiction Writing
- by Sarah Stone and Ron Nyren
I had a plan to become a published author.
I would write romance novel(s) because they are the most read (biggest market) of any kind of fiction and the easiest to get published. This is not to say that authors of genre fiction aren’t good writers. I sometimes think it’s more difficult to be creative when you have restrictions.
Back to the plan.
Once I had a bit of a publishing track record traditional publishers of mainstream, literary fiction would be more likely to consider me. Right?
I wrote three contemporary romance novels. All have been e-published. All have bombed. No traditional publishers of literary fiction are knocking on my door.
What happened?
My novels, I’ve been told, were not popular with romance readers for a number of reasons. I didn’t introduce the love interests soon enough. My ‘Happily Ever After’ was lukewarm or not at all. I needed to ‘sex it up’. My subplots overshadowed the romance. My heroes lacked testosterone. My heroines didn’t show enough vulnerability. My words were too big, my plots too real, my characters too unlikable. My stories were out of control.
I suspect it might have something to do with the notion “you are what you read” – more specifically, you write what you read.
When I read I want the experience of the literary novel, such as described in the opening quote from the The Longman Guide to Intermediate and Advanced Fiction Writing by Sarah Stone and Ron Nyren. Writing for me is the same. I want adventure – similar to my style of hiking. When I head into the backcountry I like to leave the marked trail. At least once I want experience the panic of being lost – I don’t know where I am, where I’m going, or how or when I’ll get back. Terror is undeniably exhilarating, and overcoming it is oh so satisfying.
I miss the adventure when I conform to the confines of genre fiction. That and the fact that I don’t do it well, makes moving on (not necessarily upward) easy, without risk or anxiety, and without even the faintest indication of success.
Norman Mailer said, “Until you see where your ideas lead to, you know nothing.” This is resonates for me. Especially “the you know nothing” part.
"What’s important, finally, is that you create, and that those creations define for you what matters most, that which cannot be extinguished even in the face of silence, solitude, and rejection."
- Betsy Lerner
The Forest for the Trees
An Editor’s Advice to Writers
It appears that I’m in the company of a lot of great writers, at least in sentiment if not talent. I will continue to do what matters most for me in the “face of silence, solitude and rejection.” And rejection. And rejection.
According to George Seidel, author of The Crisis of Creativity; “An artist will always have one thing no one else can have: a life within a life.” Ultimately, that may be my only accomplishment.
Is that a bad thing?
Why I critique
The best way I've found to become a better writer is to have my work critiqued by other writers. It can be painful, disappointing, even infuriating but it’s been absolutely essential for me and contributed immensely to the small measure of success I've had.
It’s ironic that the best advice is also the least expensive. The price of a critique is paid in time not cash, which makes it more practical than conferences, online courses, night school, or creative writing programs.
To get the most from the experience I adhere to a few guidelines. Here is my Critiquing W5.
WHAT to have critiqued.
I send my best work. Critiquers aren’t editors nor are they book doctors. They aren’t there to write my story only to comment on what I’ve written. To send in less than my best is disrespectful, not to mention unprofessional to those taking the time to read it.
I submit the beginning, the end, or anywhere in between, but no more than 3,000 words, about ten pages. I get the most response (on-line) when my submission is short enough to read in one sitting. If my critiquers are sitting across from me I go shorter still. It’s very discouraging to see stifled yawns and fidgeting half way through reading aloud your opening chapter.
WHERE to critique.
I prefer on-line critique groups since I get more and varied responses. Not only are there several different perspectives, but the critiquers can take their time and give me a considered and in depth opinion. In your face critique groups are, by definition, spontaneous and can be confrontational.
Local chapters of the RWA likely have a critique group but other sites include:
Scribophile www.scribophile.com
Writer’s Digest http://community.writersdigest.com/?p...
Romance Writers Community (RWC) http://www.charlottedillon.com/RWC.html
WHEN to critique.
I don’t submit work until I’ve completed a second draft. By that time I’ve corrected most spelling and grammatical errors as well as plot glitches in the first draft. Most importantly, I fully understand my plot and characters, which allows me to consider if the comments I receive are relevant. By this point I’ve also invested too much time to get sidetracked by criticisms that address the story and not the writing.
I use to rush to submit. It was embarrassing. Now I let my writing rest and revisit it a week or so later. I’ll also read it aloud before I sending it.
WHO to critique.
Ideally, you will give and get critiques from people writing in the same genre and at the same level of skill or better. I find it difficult to fully critique genres that involve werewolves or vampires because I’m not steeped in their culture. Sending erotica to someone who writes inspirational may not only be personally insulting but also professionally a waste of time.
WHY to critique.
Having my work critiqued by other anonymous writers provides two essential things – an objective opinion, and instruction. The person analyzing and assessing my work doesn’t know who I am and has no vested interest in pleasing or displeasing me. Equally important is that the criticism is coming from another, ideally better writer, who knows more about the craft and the pitfalls than I do.
When I was a kid I use to watch Dick Clark’s American Bandstand – yes, that’s how old I am. One of the features on the show was “hit or miss” where Bandstand regulars would rate a new record (yes, record, not CD). After jiving up a storm the teens would gather around Dick and rate the song out of ten.
“It had a good beat, you know,” a young man with skin-tight pants and a Brylcreamed waterfall would volunteer. “I’d give it a seven.”
“The words were groovy,” a pony-tailed, bobby-soxer would swoon. “It’s a nine for me.”
“Only a four, it was hard to dance to. ”
Thus the new song was “critiqued”.
In the beginning, my critiques were reminiscent of this. On one hand, coming from a reader they were honest and important, but on the other hand, coming from a writer they were superficial and unprofessional. Because I’ve learned so much from the well-considered and knowledgeable insights of magnanimous strangers I wanted to return the same. I wanted my critiques to be of value so I began to read books on the craft of writing to learn how other writers addressed the issues I was seeing in the submissions I read (see a short list at the end).
Some submissions I critique are from beginners. In those I try to explain Point of View, Goal, Motivation and Conflict, and Showing instead of Telling. I do this in broad strokes and try to be patient. Regardless of how sensitive I think I’m being some people still get their feelings hurt.
When I submit a work for critiquing I assume it’s going to be criticized. After all, that’s why I sent it in. Even after several rewritings it’s still not perfect, I seldom get it right, and for sure it can always be improved upon. In my opinion, a critique that’s not critical is an oxymoron.
I have to admit sloppy submissions do make me crazy. Poor punctuation, bad grammar and repetition of errors leads me to believe the writer is either not serious or not skilled enough to take this step at this time.
A submission from an accomplished writer can be intimidating. I usually look for subtleties and nuances like voice, the characters’ and the author’s; pacing that involves a variety of sentence lengths; plotting including leaving room for the readers imagination; and, character development – consistency and believability. I’ll often comment on language – a more appropriate word sometimes makes all the difference.
When I submit my work and begin receiving critiques back, I remind myself of two things: everyone is entitled to their opinion; and, unlike almost any other situation I can think of, all opinions have some validity and should be appreciated. I watch for common threads in the criticisms because that's likely where the work is needed. And though it might make sense to defend my work to an editor, it never does to a critiquer.
This mental task of addressing the errors and weaknesses in other people’s writing makes mine better. The adage that ‘to teach is to learn twice’ has no other better application than then when it comes to critiquing other writers.
Here are a few books on the various aspects of writing fiction including the writing experience. I’ve found these books educational, entertaining and, not surprising, well written.
Things Feigned and Imagined – by Fred Stenson
Self-editing for Fiction Writers – Renni Browne and Dave King
Stein on Writing – By Sol Stein
The Fiction Writer’s Guidebook – by Edwin Silberstang
Show, Don’t Tell – by William Noble
Make that Scene – by William Noble
It’s ironic that the best advice is also the least expensive. The price of a critique is paid in time not cash, which makes it more practical than conferences, online courses, night school, or creative writing programs.
To get the most from the experience I adhere to a few guidelines. Here is my Critiquing W5.
WHAT to have critiqued.
I send my best work. Critiquers aren’t editors nor are they book doctors. They aren’t there to write my story only to comment on what I’ve written. To send in less than my best is disrespectful, not to mention unprofessional to those taking the time to read it.
I submit the beginning, the end, or anywhere in between, but no more than 3,000 words, about ten pages. I get the most response (on-line) when my submission is short enough to read in one sitting. If my critiquers are sitting across from me I go shorter still. It’s very discouraging to see stifled yawns and fidgeting half way through reading aloud your opening chapter.
WHERE to critique.
I prefer on-line critique groups since I get more and varied responses. Not only are there several different perspectives, but the critiquers can take their time and give me a considered and in depth opinion. In your face critique groups are, by definition, spontaneous and can be confrontational.
Local chapters of the RWA likely have a critique group but other sites include:
Scribophile www.scribophile.com
Writer’s Digest http://community.writersdigest.com/?p...
Romance Writers Community (RWC) http://www.charlottedillon.com/RWC.html
WHEN to critique.
I don’t submit work until I’ve completed a second draft. By that time I’ve corrected most spelling and grammatical errors as well as plot glitches in the first draft. Most importantly, I fully understand my plot and characters, which allows me to consider if the comments I receive are relevant. By this point I’ve also invested too much time to get sidetracked by criticisms that address the story and not the writing.
I use to rush to submit. It was embarrassing. Now I let my writing rest and revisit it a week or so later. I’ll also read it aloud before I sending it.
WHO to critique.
Ideally, you will give and get critiques from people writing in the same genre and at the same level of skill or better. I find it difficult to fully critique genres that involve werewolves or vampires because I’m not steeped in their culture. Sending erotica to someone who writes inspirational may not only be personally insulting but also professionally a waste of time.
WHY to critique.
Having my work critiqued by other anonymous writers provides two essential things – an objective opinion, and instruction. The person analyzing and assessing my work doesn’t know who I am and has no vested interest in pleasing or displeasing me. Equally important is that the criticism is coming from another, ideally better writer, who knows more about the craft and the pitfalls than I do.
When I was a kid I use to watch Dick Clark’s American Bandstand – yes, that’s how old I am. One of the features on the show was “hit or miss” where Bandstand regulars would rate a new record (yes, record, not CD). After jiving up a storm the teens would gather around Dick and rate the song out of ten.
“It had a good beat, you know,” a young man with skin-tight pants and a Brylcreamed waterfall would volunteer. “I’d give it a seven.”
“The words were groovy,” a pony-tailed, bobby-soxer would swoon. “It’s a nine for me.”
“Only a four, it was hard to dance to. ”
Thus the new song was “critiqued”.
In the beginning, my critiques were reminiscent of this. On one hand, coming from a reader they were honest and important, but on the other hand, coming from a writer they were superficial and unprofessional. Because I’ve learned so much from the well-considered and knowledgeable insights of magnanimous strangers I wanted to return the same. I wanted my critiques to be of value so I began to read books on the craft of writing to learn how other writers addressed the issues I was seeing in the submissions I read (see a short list at the end).
Some submissions I critique are from beginners. In those I try to explain Point of View, Goal, Motivation and Conflict, and Showing instead of Telling. I do this in broad strokes and try to be patient. Regardless of how sensitive I think I’m being some people still get their feelings hurt.
When I submit a work for critiquing I assume it’s going to be criticized. After all, that’s why I sent it in. Even after several rewritings it’s still not perfect, I seldom get it right, and for sure it can always be improved upon. In my opinion, a critique that’s not critical is an oxymoron.
I have to admit sloppy submissions do make me crazy. Poor punctuation, bad grammar and repetition of errors leads me to believe the writer is either not serious or not skilled enough to take this step at this time.
A submission from an accomplished writer can be intimidating. I usually look for subtleties and nuances like voice, the characters’ and the author’s; pacing that involves a variety of sentence lengths; plotting including leaving room for the readers imagination; and, character development – consistency and believability. I’ll often comment on language – a more appropriate word sometimes makes all the difference.
When I submit my work and begin receiving critiques back, I remind myself of two things: everyone is entitled to their opinion; and, unlike almost any other situation I can think of, all opinions have some validity and should be appreciated. I watch for common threads in the criticisms because that's likely where the work is needed. And though it might make sense to defend my work to an editor, it never does to a critiquer.
This mental task of addressing the errors and weaknesses in other people’s writing makes mine better. The adage that ‘to teach is to learn twice’ has no other better application than then when it comes to critiquing other writers.
Here are a few books on the various aspects of writing fiction including the writing experience. I’ve found these books educational, entertaining and, not surprising, well written.
Things Feigned and Imagined – by Fred Stenson
Self-editing for Fiction Writers – Renni Browne and Dave King
Stein on Writing – By Sol Stein
The Fiction Writer’s Guidebook – by Edwin Silberstang
Show, Don’t Tell – by William Noble
Make that Scene – by William Noble
Published on March 03, 2013 01:08
•
Tags:
criticism, critique, learning-twice, writing
The industry of writers teaching other writers to write
In less than a half a minute, my Google search engines provides me with the following:
How to write a query letter to a publisher – 139,000 results
How to pitch an editor – 8,500,000 results
How to write fiction – 48,900,000 results
Ever wonder why so many writers are so keen to teach others how to write?
Is it that writing somehow elevates the human spirit and elucidates the masses about esoteric concepts and endeavors?
Well, yes. That, and money.
Here’s a few sobering statistics provided by the Writer’s Union of Canada:
- The average writer in Canada makes $12,000 (that’s all kinds of writing, not just fiction).
- The average book in Canada sells 400 copies.
- In Canada a best seller is 5,000 copies.
I’m not even going to attempt the math, but suffice to say that the royalties for a best selling author in Canada would make his income below the poverty level – significantly.
The e-publishing industry is even more dismal. New Concepts Publishing, an e-publisher, has the courage to head up the submissions page of their website with the following royalty information from their stable of authors:
Science Fiction/Futuristic range: $127.89--$8455.46
Paranormal range: $78.00--$5673.50
Contemporary range: $55.18--$7913.78
Historical range: $75.16--$3863.12
Romantic Suspense range: $124.24--$1977.20
Fantasy range: $44.00--$4774.80
Average payout over the three year contract period $450.00
How many hours did I put in writing my two e-published novels? My wife could probably tell you, but there’s no question my hourly wage would be well below the minimum, probably closer to that of an itinerant laborer in a destitute third world country.
I’ve always believed, somewhat cynically I must admit, that those who can – do; and those who – can’t; teach- give seminars, workshops, online courses, etc. In light of this information I’m rethinking this. Poverty is a mighty motivator and who am I to judge other writers, most whom are more skilled at the craft than myself?
Where am I going with this, other than the poorhouse?
Recently I had the opportunity to pitch my latest manuscript to an editor at a conference. Having been a sales person all my adult life it seemed to me nothing more than a cold call, of which I’ve made countless thousands.
However, my writing group loop was filled with anxious missives about what to say, how to say it, and how to present it. Was there more to this than being personable, knowing your product, and presenting it in a way to benefit the buyer? I decided to look at a few of the 8,500,000 results from my Google search.
Here’s some of the invaluable information I gleaned (actual quotes) from a few of these sites:
- neatness counts when making first impressions... set the example by presenting a professional appearance. And leave the chewing gum, snacks, and cigarettes behind.
- remember, you must first believe in yourself and your work before you can persuade others to believe in it. Be proud of your writing.
- exude self-assurance, but not arrogance. It's okay to convey enthusiasm, but temper your zeal with a patina of humility.
- pretend this is someone you've met at a party. Offer a personable handshake and some small talk to start things off in a relaxed manner. You'll then find it easy to segue into the business at hand.
- take a couple of calming breaths before you go in, smile, and be yourself.
If you don’t think this is ridiculous and self-evident than consider the opposite. Would you go into an interview a mess, chewing gum, giving attitude and being rude? Maybe in highschool.
What does this say to me about the writing industry – or more specifically about the industry of advising, teaching and coaching aspiring writers – the conferences, the workshops, the online courses? I was further dismayed when I took in the conferences keynote address delivered by a best-selling, making-the-circuit author. She focused on Malcolm Gladwell’s book Outliers – basically that practice, a lot of it, makes perfect.
No insights, no anecdotes, no secrets, not even any gossip.
I’m inclined to say that it’s all bogus. A self-serving undertaking capitalizing on the zeal and inexperience of those that dream of becoming writers.
Unfortunately, the best advice I’ve received about my writing comes from other writers, from discussions with them, and reading their how-to books.
It’s a conundrum.
So before seeing the editor (remember the editor?) I’m not taking any chances. I spit out my gum, slick back my cowlick, park my ego, take a few deep breaths, smile and introduce myself just like I would if I was meeting someone at a party.
Seven minutes later I’m out the door. He doesn’t ask to see my manuscript.
How to write a query letter to a publisher – 139,000 results
How to pitch an editor – 8,500,000 results
How to write fiction – 48,900,000 results
Ever wonder why so many writers are so keen to teach others how to write?
Is it that writing somehow elevates the human spirit and elucidates the masses about esoteric concepts and endeavors?
Well, yes. That, and money.
Here’s a few sobering statistics provided by the Writer’s Union of Canada:
- The average writer in Canada makes $12,000 (that’s all kinds of writing, not just fiction).
- The average book in Canada sells 400 copies.
- In Canada a best seller is 5,000 copies.
I’m not even going to attempt the math, but suffice to say that the royalties for a best selling author in Canada would make his income below the poverty level – significantly.
The e-publishing industry is even more dismal. New Concepts Publishing, an e-publisher, has the courage to head up the submissions page of their website with the following royalty information from their stable of authors:
Science Fiction/Futuristic range: $127.89--$8455.46
Paranormal range: $78.00--$5673.50
Contemporary range: $55.18--$7913.78
Historical range: $75.16--$3863.12
Romantic Suspense range: $124.24--$1977.20
Fantasy range: $44.00--$4774.80
Average payout over the three year contract period $450.00
How many hours did I put in writing my two e-published novels? My wife could probably tell you, but there’s no question my hourly wage would be well below the minimum, probably closer to that of an itinerant laborer in a destitute third world country.
I’ve always believed, somewhat cynically I must admit, that those who can – do; and those who – can’t; teach- give seminars, workshops, online courses, etc. In light of this information I’m rethinking this. Poverty is a mighty motivator and who am I to judge other writers, most whom are more skilled at the craft than myself?
Where am I going with this, other than the poorhouse?
Recently I had the opportunity to pitch my latest manuscript to an editor at a conference. Having been a sales person all my adult life it seemed to me nothing more than a cold call, of which I’ve made countless thousands.
However, my writing group loop was filled with anxious missives about what to say, how to say it, and how to present it. Was there more to this than being personable, knowing your product, and presenting it in a way to benefit the buyer? I decided to look at a few of the 8,500,000 results from my Google search.
Here’s some of the invaluable information I gleaned (actual quotes) from a few of these sites:
- neatness counts when making first impressions... set the example by presenting a professional appearance. And leave the chewing gum, snacks, and cigarettes behind.
- remember, you must first believe in yourself and your work before you can persuade others to believe in it. Be proud of your writing.
- exude self-assurance, but not arrogance. It's okay to convey enthusiasm, but temper your zeal with a patina of humility.
- pretend this is someone you've met at a party. Offer a personable handshake and some small talk to start things off in a relaxed manner. You'll then find it easy to segue into the business at hand.
- take a couple of calming breaths before you go in, smile, and be yourself.
If you don’t think this is ridiculous and self-evident than consider the opposite. Would you go into an interview a mess, chewing gum, giving attitude and being rude? Maybe in highschool.
What does this say to me about the writing industry – or more specifically about the industry of advising, teaching and coaching aspiring writers – the conferences, the workshops, the online courses? I was further dismayed when I took in the conferences keynote address delivered by a best-selling, making-the-circuit author. She focused on Malcolm Gladwell’s book Outliers – basically that practice, a lot of it, makes perfect.
No insights, no anecdotes, no secrets, not even any gossip.
I’m inclined to say that it’s all bogus. A self-serving undertaking capitalizing on the zeal and inexperience of those that dream of becoming writers.
Unfortunately, the best advice I’ve received about my writing comes from other writers, from discussions with them, and reading their how-to books.
It’s a conundrum.
So before seeing the editor (remember the editor?) I’m not taking any chances. I spit out my gum, slick back my cowlick, park my ego, take a few deep breaths, smile and introduce myself just like I would if I was meeting someone at a party.
Seven minutes later I’m out the door. He doesn’t ask to see my manuscript.
Published on March 03, 2013 13:24
•
Tags:
royalties, teaching-writers-to-write, writing
The industry of writers teaching other writers to write
In less than a half a minute, my Google search engines provides me with the following:
How to write a query letter to a publisher – 139,000 results
How to pitch an editor – 8,500,000 results
How to write fiction – 48,900,000 results
Ever wonder why so many writers are so keen to teach others how to write?
Is it that writing somehow elevates the human spirit and elucidates the masses about esoteric concepts and endeavors?
Well, yes. That, and money.
Here’s a few sobering statistics provided by the Writer’s Union of Canada:
- The average writer in Canada makes $12,000 (that’s all kinds of writing, not just fiction).
- The average book in Canada sells 400 copies.
- In Canada a best seller is 5,000 copies.
I’m not even going to attempt the math, but suffice to say that the royalties for a best selling author in Canada would make his income below the poverty level – significantly.
The e-publishing industry is even more dismal. New Concepts Publishing, an e-publisher, has the courage to head up the submissions page of their website with the following royalty information from their stable of authors:
Science Fiction/Futuristic range: $127.89--$8455.46
Paranormal range: $78.00--$5673.50
Contemporary range: $55.18--$7913.78
Historical range: $75.16--$3863.12
Romantic Suspense range: $124.24--$1977.20
Fantasy range: $44.00--$4774.80
Average payout over the three year contract period $450.00
How many hours did I put in writing my two e-published novels? My wife could probably tell you, but there’s no question my hourly wage would be well below the minimum, probably closer to that of an itinerant laborer in a destitute third world country.
I’ve always believed, somewhat cynically I must admit, that those who can – do; and those who can’t – teach, give seminars, workshops, online courses, etc. In light of this information I’m rethinking this. Poverty is a mighty motivator and who am I to judge other writers, most whom are more skilled at the craft than myself?
Where am I going with this, other than the poorhouse?
Recently I had the opportunity to pitch my latest manuscript to an editor at a conference. Having been a sales person all my adult life it seemed to me nothing more than a cold call, of which I’ve made countless thousands.
However, my writing group loop was filled with anxious missives about what to say, how to say it, and how to present it. Was there more to this than being personable, knowing your product, and presenting it in a way to benefit the buyer? I decided to look at a few of the 8,500,000 results from my Google search.
Here’s some of the invaluable information I gleaned (actual quotes) from a few of these sites:
- neatness counts when making first impressions... set the example by presenting a professional appearance. And leave the chewing gum, snacks, and cigarettes behind.
- remember, you must first believe in yourself and your work before you can persuade others to believe in it. Be proud of your writing.
- exude self-assurance, but not arrogance. It's okay to convey enthusiasm, but temper your zeal with a patina of humility.
- pretend this is someone you've met at a party. Offer a personable handshake and some small talk to start things off in a relaxed manner. You'll then find it easy to segue into the business at hand.
- take a couple of calming breaths before you go in, smile, and be yourself.
If you don’t think this is ridiculous and self-evident than consider the opposite. Would you go into an interview a mess, chewing gum, giving attitude and being rude? Maybe in highschool.
What does this say to me about the writing industry – or more specifically about the industry of advising, teaching and coaching aspiring writers – the conferences, the workshops, the online courses? I was further dismayed when I took in the conferences keynote address delivered by a best-selling, making-the-circuit author. She focused on Malcolm Gladwell’s book Outliers – basically that practice, a lot of it, makes perfect.
No insights, no anecdotes, no secrets, not even any gossip.
I’m inclined to say that it’s all bogus. A self-serving undertaking capitalizing on the zeal and inexperience of those that dream of becoming writers.
Unfortunately, the best advice I’ve received about my writing comes from other writers, from discussions with them, and reading their how-to books.
It’s a conundrum.
So before seeing the editor (remember the editor?) I’m not taking any chances. I spit out my gum, slick back my cowlick, park my ego, take a few deep breaths, smile and introduce myself just like I would if I was meeting someone at a party.
Seven minutes later I’m out the door. He doesn’t ask to see my manuscript.
How to write a query letter to a publisher – 139,000 results
How to pitch an editor – 8,500,000 results
How to write fiction – 48,900,000 results
Ever wonder why so many writers are so keen to teach others how to write?
Is it that writing somehow elevates the human spirit and elucidates the masses about esoteric concepts and endeavors?
Well, yes. That, and money.
Here’s a few sobering statistics provided by the Writer’s Union of Canada:
- The average writer in Canada makes $12,000 (that’s all kinds of writing, not just fiction).
- The average book in Canada sells 400 copies.
- In Canada a best seller is 5,000 copies.
I’m not even going to attempt the math, but suffice to say that the royalties for a best selling author in Canada would make his income below the poverty level – significantly.
The e-publishing industry is even more dismal. New Concepts Publishing, an e-publisher, has the courage to head up the submissions page of their website with the following royalty information from their stable of authors:
Science Fiction/Futuristic range: $127.89--$8455.46
Paranormal range: $78.00--$5673.50
Contemporary range: $55.18--$7913.78
Historical range: $75.16--$3863.12
Romantic Suspense range: $124.24--$1977.20
Fantasy range: $44.00--$4774.80
Average payout over the three year contract period $450.00
How many hours did I put in writing my two e-published novels? My wife could probably tell you, but there’s no question my hourly wage would be well below the minimum, probably closer to that of an itinerant laborer in a destitute third world country.
I’ve always believed, somewhat cynically I must admit, that those who can – do; and those who can’t – teach, give seminars, workshops, online courses, etc. In light of this information I’m rethinking this. Poverty is a mighty motivator and who am I to judge other writers, most whom are more skilled at the craft than myself?
Where am I going with this, other than the poorhouse?
Recently I had the opportunity to pitch my latest manuscript to an editor at a conference. Having been a sales person all my adult life it seemed to me nothing more than a cold call, of which I’ve made countless thousands.
However, my writing group loop was filled with anxious missives about what to say, how to say it, and how to present it. Was there more to this than being personable, knowing your product, and presenting it in a way to benefit the buyer? I decided to look at a few of the 8,500,000 results from my Google search.
Here’s some of the invaluable information I gleaned (actual quotes) from a few of these sites:
- neatness counts when making first impressions... set the example by presenting a professional appearance. And leave the chewing gum, snacks, and cigarettes behind.
- remember, you must first believe in yourself and your work before you can persuade others to believe in it. Be proud of your writing.
- exude self-assurance, but not arrogance. It's okay to convey enthusiasm, but temper your zeal with a patina of humility.
- pretend this is someone you've met at a party. Offer a personable handshake and some small talk to start things off in a relaxed manner. You'll then find it easy to segue into the business at hand.
- take a couple of calming breaths before you go in, smile, and be yourself.
If you don’t think this is ridiculous and self-evident than consider the opposite. Would you go into an interview a mess, chewing gum, giving attitude and being rude? Maybe in highschool.
What does this say to me about the writing industry – or more specifically about the industry of advising, teaching and coaching aspiring writers – the conferences, the workshops, the online courses? I was further dismayed when I took in the conferences keynote address delivered by a best-selling, making-the-circuit author. She focused on Malcolm Gladwell’s book Outliers – basically that practice, a lot of it, makes perfect.
No insights, no anecdotes, no secrets, not even any gossip.
I’m inclined to say that it’s all bogus. A self-serving undertaking capitalizing on the zeal and inexperience of those that dream of becoming writers.
Unfortunately, the best advice I’ve received about my writing comes from other writers, from discussions with them, and reading their how-to books.
It’s a conundrum.
So before seeing the editor (remember the editor?) I’m not taking any chances. I spit out my gum, slick back my cowlick, park my ego, take a few deep breaths, smile and introduce myself just like I would if I was meeting someone at a party.
Seven minutes later I’m out the door. He doesn’t ask to see my manuscript.
Published on March 03, 2013 13:27
•
Tags:
royalties, teaching-writers-to-write, writing
If it don't sell, it ain't good
If it don’t sell, it ain’t good.
Creativity is subjective. “I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like” – could be applied to a Bateman masterpiece or a black velvet reproduction from Zellers.
This overused adage also applies to literature. It’s an excuse for a multitude of sins including a distinct lack of artistic ability as well as just plain bad taste.
So how does one decide whether their creation has any artistic merit? For me, if it don’t sell, it ain’t good.
Of course I to put it out there. I’ve offered my photographs to the public through various venues including retail stores, websites, flea markets, Craig’s List (you name it – I’ve tried it). My writing’s been sent off to agents, publishers, magazines, newspapers as well as posting it on various websites.
Then I wait.
How long I wait depends on how patient or delusional I am, or both, at any given time. If nothing happens I eventually give up, withdraw, and move on – hopefully to improve. I used to call it a “learning experience”, but now I understand that phrase as a euphemism for failure.
I’ve rationalize my lack of success with all manner of excuses – I’m ahead of my time; misunderstood; not commercial enough (a good thing?); the economy is in the dumps; the weather was rotten; the stars were misaligned; or, like Van Gogh, who only sold one painting in his entire life, my genius will be appreciated once I’m gone.
Six new photographs of mine were recently shown at The Metro Theatre Lounge Gallery. Theatre-goers could view my work prior to the show and at intermission for the entire run of seventeen performances.
The Metro is a good venue. People that attend are inclined to the arts and have the time to take a look, unlike a coffee bar gallery where all you want is to get your latte and leave. The box office for that production was 1621 and I would imagine at least 1,000 patrons visited the lounge at least once.
There were no sales, nor any enquiries regarding my photographs. According to my own philosophy, there’s only one conclusion.
The reason I take this uncompromising approach to my work is so I’ll continue to strive to improve.
When I look at my first public offerings, in either photography or writing, they were so awful I cringe even now as I think about them. Had I continued to assign any of the above excuses to the lack of response to these works I wouldn’t have attained what little success I have.
I’m still determined to create something good enough to overcome all the obstacles – real or imagined. What I lack in creativity I hope to make up in part with perseverance and the ability to learn from past mistakes and failures. There’s no shortage to draw from.
Until then, I can appreciate (and marvel at) the success of others while I keep honing my craft and perfecting my eye.
It’s not about money. It’s about recognition and respect from my contemporaries, and a sense of achievement for myself.
Nietzsche said, “Art is the proper task of life…”, and that may very well be the case, whether it sells or not.
Creativity is subjective. “I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like” – could be applied to a Bateman masterpiece or a black velvet reproduction from Zellers.
This overused adage also applies to literature. It’s an excuse for a multitude of sins including a distinct lack of artistic ability as well as just plain bad taste.
So how does one decide whether their creation has any artistic merit? For me, if it don’t sell, it ain’t good.
Of course I to put it out there. I’ve offered my photographs to the public through various venues including retail stores, websites, flea markets, Craig’s List (you name it – I’ve tried it). My writing’s been sent off to agents, publishers, magazines, newspapers as well as posting it on various websites.
Then I wait.
How long I wait depends on how patient or delusional I am, or both, at any given time. If nothing happens I eventually give up, withdraw, and move on – hopefully to improve. I used to call it a “learning experience”, but now I understand that phrase as a euphemism for failure.
I’ve rationalize my lack of success with all manner of excuses – I’m ahead of my time; misunderstood; not commercial enough (a good thing?); the economy is in the dumps; the weather was rotten; the stars were misaligned; or, like Van Gogh, who only sold one painting in his entire life, my genius will be appreciated once I’m gone.
Six new photographs of mine were recently shown at The Metro Theatre Lounge Gallery. Theatre-goers could view my work prior to the show and at intermission for the entire run of seventeen performances.
The Metro is a good venue. People that attend are inclined to the arts and have the time to take a look, unlike a coffee bar gallery where all you want is to get your latte and leave. The box office for that production was 1621 and I would imagine at least 1,000 patrons visited the lounge at least once.
There were no sales, nor any enquiries regarding my photographs. According to my own philosophy, there’s only one conclusion.
The reason I take this uncompromising approach to my work is so I’ll continue to strive to improve.
When I look at my first public offerings, in either photography or writing, they were so awful I cringe even now as I think about them. Had I continued to assign any of the above excuses to the lack of response to these works I wouldn’t have attained what little success I have.
I’m still determined to create something good enough to overcome all the obstacles – real or imagined. What I lack in creativity I hope to make up in part with perseverance and the ability to learn from past mistakes and failures. There’s no shortage to draw from.
Until then, I can appreciate (and marvel at) the success of others while I keep honing my craft and perfecting my eye.
It’s not about money. It’s about recognition and respect from my contemporaries, and a sense of achievement for myself.
Nietzsche said, “Art is the proper task of life…”, and that may very well be the case, whether it sells or not.
Published on March 04, 2013 23:35
•
Tags:
art, delusional, merit, sales, writing
Are writers borne or made?

My rating: 1 of 5 stars
Are writer’s born or made?
Can anyone become a writer, specifically a writer of fiction, or is the proclivity to writing an innate characteristic?
This is a question I often ask myself, particularly when participants in my creative writing circles ask for writing prompts or inquire where to find story ideas. As if the life you live and all the people you interact with is not material enough.
It’s then that I think these people are not writers, but instead fantasize about the clichéd version of a writer’s life. The distinction could be further defined as those who ‘want’ to write, as opposed to those who ‘have’ to write.
I have to write and, indeed, am writing all the time, at least in my mind. I constantly watch people and ask myself questions about: the way their dressed - what are they trying to say; their activities - whom are they waiting for; and their mannerisms - why is she so jumpy. What would my latest character do in this situation, I wonder? Plot scenarios continually run through my mind. ‘What if’ is a question and the motivation.
So when I sit down it’s like a floodgate opens. I write.
I can write anywhere at anytime. Often I simply can’t wait to write. I grab a napkin, an envelope, the edge of a newspaper and scribble words. I look forward to it, long for it, and find it deeply satisfying. It’s a release, a meditation, a method to make sense of it all.
If you’re one of those that fantasize about writing but are too conflicted to do any, then A Writer’s Space, Make Room to Dream, to Work, to Write, by Eric Maisel, is the book for you.
Maisel is a creativity coach who holds a PH.D. in Counseling Psychology. He believes that writers aren’t borne, they’re cajoled, coaxed, and coached into being. The first step to becoming one is to pick, protect, and honor a physical space specifically for writing. Maisel would have you go on a vision quest to locate the best place in your home to write. Once you’ve divined the location, you must then prepare a security pledge on how you will protect and do the right things in your writing space.
Evidently, the author doesn’t consider life and people enough of a stimuli for a writer and offers all kinds of incentives to inspire one to write. These include a way to access your ‘self-help neurons’ to enter into a state of ‘creative mindfulness’. The next time you decide to be angry, Maisel tells the reader, use creative mindfulness to decide not to be angry, or, I suppose, just say ‘no to anger’. It’s as simple as that.
As well as the appropriate spiritual location to enable you to write, Maisel suggests there are various psychological and emotional ‘spaces’ to psych you up, chill you out, or otherwise evoke or enhance your inner muse. They include an emotional space, reflective space, imagined space, public space, and existential space.
At the end of each chapter, the author offers up lessons to help you enter these ‘spaces’ which will allow you to ‘desire worlds into existence; discover the ‘way of the meaning maker’; and, ‘not be quite so nice’.
If you’re not ‘spaced out’ before applying these techniques and exercises, I imagine you will be afterwards.
There’s also an exercise to ‘upgrade your personality with twelve quick centering incantations’. This might be useful to many of the authentic writers I’ve met since they tend to be reflective, more observers than a participants, and comfortable with their own company, or, depending on your point of view, arrogant, anti-social, loners.
A good portion of A Writer’s Space is given over to anecdotes about the author’s clients/patients, an incredibly flakey sounding bunch who imagine themselves as writers but don’t have the guts and determination to sit down and actually write something. Success comes for the doctor not when one of his charges gets published, but when, after all the positive nurturing and self-help mumbo-jumbo, they finally, actually make marks on paper.
If you haven’t drawn any conclusion on this book from what I’ve told you so far, I’ll close this review with a sampling of Maisel’s profundity:
“You have been hungering for years to write a certain piece while simultaneously curbing your enthusiasm and by curbing it killing it.”
If you can relate to that statement, I’m sorry for you. It’s likely you’ll never be a writer.
View all my reviews
Published on May 26, 2013 00:39
•
Tags:
borne, fiction, have-to-write, made, want-to-write, writers, writing
I finished another novel
I finished another novel.
Thanks, but it’s a bit to early for congratulations.
The chances of The Big Picture (working title) getting published, at least the traditional way, are slim to none.
Does it matter? Yes and no.
For me, the only actual acknowledgement, in the real world, that I write well is if a stranger is willing to pay to publish my work. In the light of new technology and changes in the publishing industry I’d now go as far as saying I would feel acknowledged as a writer if strangers paid to read my self-published work.
So, does it matter if I get paid to be published or to be read?
Yes.
On the other hand, do I spend all this time sitting in front of a computer, by myself, in my own head to make money?
No.
I write because I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction crafting a well-written phrase, creating an original, appropriate metaphor, or discovering le mot juste – exactly the right word.
Then there’s the magic when I become the conduit for my characters, when the space between reality and imagination blurs, and they do and say things on their own volition.
I also write because it’s cathartic and a way to make sense of things. Betsy Lerner, literary agent, former senior editor at Doubleday, and author of The Forest for the Trees, put it in perspective when she said:
“What’s important, finally, is that you create, and that those creations define for you what matters most, that which cannot be extinguished even in the face of silence, solitude, and rejection.”
So if my creation defines me, how do I want to be defined?
Carol Bly, author of The Passionate, Accurate Story – Making Your Heart’s Truth into Literature talks about “Writing as a Moral Act’. She suggests you ‘build your fiction on strong ethical ground. Even before beginning to write a story, Bly suggests you prepare a “Values Listing,” a written record of the things most important to you.
Throughout the writing process; in the sketchy, first draft, through the crafting of structure and plot, in the imagining of character and setting, she encourages your to return to this list to ensure these values continue to be identified in your work. That means these values are present in the issues and conflicts your characters confront and that they themselves are grounded in or address these same principles.
This resonates with me because it allows me to research issues and advance my causes indirectly with a fictional interface. Maybe I’ll even learn something along the way. Besides, I can’t understand how an author can spend all the time it takes to write a novel in the company of characters that are immoral, unethical, marginalized and without redeeming qualities.
My Eco-Warrior Series (Spirit Bear, Eagleridge Bluffs, and Not Wonder More) afforded me the opportunity to research a whole host of environmental issues, as well as natural healing plants and remedies, and other medical related topics including schizophrenia.
In my latest novel, The Big Picture, I researched the impact of the illicit drug trade and the affects the billions of narco-dollars have on our society from the governments we elect, the wars we fight, economies large and small, even friends and family.
"The key in choosing any kind of subject matter is to follow your own interests rather than an idea about what someone else might find interesting, acceptable, or shocking. Some writers, anxious for approval or success, may listen to the voices from outside, or to their ideas of what the marketplace might want, and so go astray. To resist this requires a continual setting aside of worldly goals. Only then do we make the kind of writing that readers become passionate about. To do this we must give ourselves permission to write anything at all. It can help to imagine, while writing, that no one else will ever see the story, or at least never see it in its current form."
The Longman Guide to Intermediate and Advanced Fiction Writing
By Sarah Stone and Ron Nyren
So there you have it. I set aside my worldly goals and give myself permission to write anything that interests me imagining no one else will ever see it.
Which, in actuality, is more likely than not.
Is this writing that ‘readers become passionate about’?
Not yet.
Thanks, but it’s a bit to early for congratulations.
The chances of The Big Picture (working title) getting published, at least the traditional way, are slim to none.
Does it matter? Yes and no.
For me, the only actual acknowledgement, in the real world, that I write well is if a stranger is willing to pay to publish my work. In the light of new technology and changes in the publishing industry I’d now go as far as saying I would feel acknowledged as a writer if strangers paid to read my self-published work.
So, does it matter if I get paid to be published or to be read?
Yes.
On the other hand, do I spend all this time sitting in front of a computer, by myself, in my own head to make money?
No.
I write because I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction crafting a well-written phrase, creating an original, appropriate metaphor, or discovering le mot juste – exactly the right word.
Then there’s the magic when I become the conduit for my characters, when the space between reality and imagination blurs, and they do and say things on their own volition.
I also write because it’s cathartic and a way to make sense of things. Betsy Lerner, literary agent, former senior editor at Doubleday, and author of The Forest for the Trees, put it in perspective when she said:
“What’s important, finally, is that you create, and that those creations define for you what matters most, that which cannot be extinguished even in the face of silence, solitude, and rejection.”
So if my creation defines me, how do I want to be defined?
Carol Bly, author of The Passionate, Accurate Story – Making Your Heart’s Truth into Literature talks about “Writing as a Moral Act’. She suggests you ‘build your fiction on strong ethical ground. Even before beginning to write a story, Bly suggests you prepare a “Values Listing,” a written record of the things most important to you.
Throughout the writing process; in the sketchy, first draft, through the crafting of structure and plot, in the imagining of character and setting, she encourages your to return to this list to ensure these values continue to be identified in your work. That means these values are present in the issues and conflicts your characters confront and that they themselves are grounded in or address these same principles.
This resonates with me because it allows me to research issues and advance my causes indirectly with a fictional interface. Maybe I’ll even learn something along the way. Besides, I can’t understand how an author can spend all the time it takes to write a novel in the company of characters that are immoral, unethical, marginalized and without redeeming qualities.
My Eco-Warrior Series (Spirit Bear, Eagleridge Bluffs, and Not Wonder More) afforded me the opportunity to research a whole host of environmental issues, as well as natural healing plants and remedies, and other medical related topics including schizophrenia.
In my latest novel, The Big Picture, I researched the impact of the illicit drug trade and the affects the billions of narco-dollars have on our society from the governments we elect, the wars we fight, economies large and small, even friends and family.
"The key in choosing any kind of subject matter is to follow your own interests rather than an idea about what someone else might find interesting, acceptable, or shocking. Some writers, anxious for approval or success, may listen to the voices from outside, or to their ideas of what the marketplace might want, and so go astray. To resist this requires a continual setting aside of worldly goals. Only then do we make the kind of writing that readers become passionate about. To do this we must give ourselves permission to write anything at all. It can help to imagine, while writing, that no one else will ever see the story, or at least never see it in its current form."
The Longman Guide to Intermediate and Advanced Fiction Writing
By Sarah Stone and Ron Nyren
So there you have it. I set aside my worldly goals and give myself permission to write anything that interests me imagining no one else will ever see it.
Which, in actuality, is more likely than not.
Is this writing that ‘readers become passionate about’?
Not yet.
Published on September 26, 2013 21:05
•
Tags:
creating, motivation, novel, paid, publish, research, writing, writing-as-a-moral-act