Jane Friedman's Blog: Jane Friedman, page 139

Geek Out With Me: Upcoming LIVE Chat on Product Hunt!

Those of you who follow my Electric Speed newsletter have seen me discuss and link to ProductHunt on numerous occasions. It’s a really cool website and community that’s focused on surfacing new products, books, podcasts, games, and more. People basically share and geek out about the latest things they love, whether they’re apps, services, or tech creations.

Product Hunt features live chats every week, and I’m thrilled to be a live chat guest this coming Thursday (December 10) at 3 p.m. Eastern. Visit this website at the appointed time, or you can sign up for a reminder.

I’ll be around for an hour answering questions, talking about my favorite digital media tools and tech, digital publishing, and—who knows—the conversation may circle around to cats, bourbon, and even distillery cats.

Check out some of my ProductHunt collections for writers and entrepreneurs.

The Secret to My Productivity, Or: Thoughts About Luxury and Privilege

Photo by gothick_matt via Flickr

During interviews or conference Q&A sessions, I’m either asked about my productivity (for those who witness and admire it), or I’m asked about time management. How does one balance creative work, marketing and promotion, and the demands of family or a day job?

Most recently, I discussed this as a guest on Jeff Yamaguchi’s excellent podcast, Writing Drafts, but I’m disappointed by my answer. Part of the problem is I want to be helpful—to really identify that critical mindset or method that might provide someone else a breakthrough on this issue.

But truthfully, I’ve never had a specific mindset or method, even though I occasionally write about them. My methods are fickle and informed by what else is happening in my life. I’ve used and discarded many list-making and organizational tools over the years, including OmniFocus, Apple Notes, GoodToDo, Covey planners, and Uncalendar (that one really dates me!). Currently, my tool of choice is Evernote.

But all these tools are ultimately beside the point. There’s one big reason I’m productive.

I have the luxury of time, to do exactly what I please, with little or no responsibility to anything (or anyone) except to myself and my own self-fulfillment.

I have no children.

I have no family to take care of.

I don’t belong to any organizations.

I don’t have a conventional job.

I don’t clean the house or do laundry. (I do cook.)

I have a partner, but he’s kind and accommodating, and allows me to put work first whenever needed.

I also consciously avoid obligation or external commitment in the first place. I mostly want to be left alone to do my work, and that’s exactly the life I’ve created for myself.

And so I have the luxury of time that others don’t have, but it’s part privilege as well. While I’ve made conscious choices that have led to this life, some choices were made easier (or possible in the first place) because of access to good education, a supportive and stable family, and opportunities to advance in my career.

Privilege has been discussed elsewhere in relation to the writing life.

Here’s a piece in Salon about being “sponsored” by a husband.
Here’s Jennifer Niesslein about being able to work for free.
Here’s a very recent piece about how the “literary class system” impoverishes literature.
Here’s an even better piece in Poetry magazine.

There are other kinds of privilege or luxury, too.

I often see celebrations of writers who take a stand and say, “I’m not marketing and promoting myself (or my book)” or “I’m not going to use social media.” I generally see two reasons for the celebration: Such things are seen as less important activities that steal time away from writing, and need to be minimized as the distractions that they can be. But also, they’re seen as activities not befitting the serious writer, who should be only writing and not building a “platform” or “brand.” Such activity diminishes the art, it diminishes the writer, the thinking goes. And so we celebrate when someone is courageous or stubborn or independent enough to flout the commandment to “engage” with a readership. (It’s a horrible commandment, I know. The language surrounding anything marketing related can be hard to take and full of meaningless platitudes.)

But the decision not to engage at all? To be offline or off the grid and focus on writing to the exclusion of all else? That is a luxury that most new or emerging writers don’t have.

To choose to not market your book: a luxury.

To ignore self-promotion and platform: a luxury.

To be offline (at least for most Western writers): a luxury.

When social media such as Facebook and Twitter started taking off in 2007 and 2008, and I began experimenting online, no one was telling me it was mandatory, necessary, or a good thing for my career. (I’m grateful for that—I didn’t develop any anxiety about it before diving in.)

But I experienced a life-changing career shift when I became more active online. I became visible to people in my industry whereas I was mostly invisible before. (I was working in Cincinnati at the time, otherwise known as flyover country to anyone in New York City and the core publishing community.) Through social media, I was able to communicate, share, and demonstrate who I was and my ideas to a much broader audience of readers and influencers. I started to gain a reputation, and people knew me when I attended conferences. I received more speaking invites. I developed a platform almost by accident, by simply doing what I do in a more public forum. (For more on this, please read Austin Kleon’s Show Your Work!)

Social media gave me a bigger voice; it gave me power I didn’t have before. That’s not to say I didn’t have any power prior to social media—I did—but I developed a different type of power. Through most of the 2000s, I had few relationships with influencers; I was skills-rich, time-rich, and network poor. With social media, I developed a noticeable footprint and suddenly merited attention. (And while some of it is deserved, it is not entirely deserved. The drawback is that when you’re known for a large online following, you begin to be known and solicited for something rather empty, rather than for your work. A subject I’ll have to tackle another time.)

When authors like Jonathan Franzen reject marketing, promotion, social media, or anything else that takes them away from their art, it’s often (if not always) because they’re in a position where activities like social media don’t afford them any more power, or any interesting opportunity or benefit, relationship-wise or creativity-wise—it’s only a headache or an obligation. And that’s logical and more than acceptable to reject those activities, but it’s not admirable in and of itself nor is it a good model for people beginning a career.

Ian Bogost wrote an excellent post about reaching a point in your career trajectory where you get to call the shots:

You have to say ‘yes’ for a long while before you can earn the right to say ‘no.’ Even then, you usually can’t say ‘no’ at whim. By the time you can say ‘no’ indiscriminately, then you’re already so super-privileged that being able to say ‘no’ is not a prerequisite of success, but a result of it.

Why do some people reach a level of success where this is possible, and others don’t? A million-dollar question. But playing the “what if” game can help illuminate where you might have advantages that lead you toward success, and where you aren’t so privileged. Or it can help you understand why some people can walk away from the usual obligations that everyone else is fulfilling. Consider all of these potential variables:

Who’s from a well-connected family that introduces them to the right people at the right time?
Who lives in a place where they’re more likely to have access and proximity to the right people, institutions, or opportunities to boost their career?
Who has money that allows them to write for free, take non-paying internships, or enroll in an MFA program?
Who has mentors that push them, make introductions, and lead them to the right career opportunities?
Who has a work environment that’s helping them grow as an individual, rather than diminishing them and making them small?
Who has a family that offers time and support for creative work?
Who possesses a network that offers them enviable opportunities—or access to a community that puts them in close contact with people with decision-making power or privilege in their field? (This post is not a complex way of saying it’s all about “who you know” or that you need the right relationships to get published or achieve your creative goals. Of course it helps, but it’s just one asset or privilege of many that a person might draw upon.)

None of the above is meant to argue that practice, hard work, and diligence is absent from the equation, but that these other factors aren’t talked about nearly often enough. I’ve been asked for so long, and so often, about the “secret” to my productivity and success; there’s an implicit assumption that it’s all a result of a well-honed and practiced method. It’s not. A great deal of my work life has been unstructured and undisciplined (though not without vision and purpose). It’s just that I’ve been able to spend nearly 20 years focusing on my work to the exclusion of nearly all else. How many other people have that luxury?

The Sussman Productivity Method

I’ve seen so many different productivity methods discussed over the years: The Pomodoro Technique, GTD (Getting Things Done), The Action Method. And then there are hosts of articles about different productivity styles. As for myself, I use a very simple Evernote list method that requires no explanation other than: It’s a to-do list organized by date.

Over at Glimmer Train, Melanie Bishop shares a method that works for her that I admire for its directness and mindfulness: For every 45 minutes that you write, do 15 minutes of something else. But there’s one catch:

The something else should not be word-related, should not involve the internet or checking your email, for instance. It should be something mindless, a task you can do while having the page with which you just parted ways still present in your head.

She calls this the Sussman method, after an article by a writer of the same name. Bishop goes on to discuss how the method has worked for her, and the importance of camaraderie during the writing process—even camaraderie at a distance.

For more from Glimmer Train this month, see:

24 Rules for Writing by S.P. MacIntyre

 

5 On: Jane Smiley

Jane Smiley on necessary compromises, writing good sex scenes, and what makes her nervous about writing even now in this 5 On interview.

Jane Smiley is the author of numerous novels—including A Thousand Acres, which was awarded the Pulitzer Prize—as well as four works of nonfiction. In 2001 she was inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters. She received the PEN USA Lifetime Achievement Award for Literature in 2006. She lives in northern California.

5 on Writing

CHRIS JANE: “In [Charles Dickens’s] Our Mutual Friend,” you once said, “the stalker is a young man who’s a teacher; born poor, uneasy about his social mobility.… I don’t think we can read Our Mutual Friend without seeing this stalker as a kind of weird self-portrait of Dickens and his social rise. But it’s very possible Dickens didn’t intend this at all.”

People will (and probably already do) talk about which of your novels might be an unintentional self-portrait of you, or which of your novels is most autobiographical. According to a 1998 BookPage article, “Jane Smiley doesn’t do autobiography,” but many fiction writers don’t. They aren’t catharsis writers, or self-exploration writers, but just curious, interested people. Still, pieces of the writers will eventually, inevitably, appear.

Is there a novel you would least like people to assume is or contains a self-portrait of you, even if a fun-house mirror reflection, and is there one you’d have to admit does offer more of you than the others?

JANE SMILEY: Not long ago I reread At Paradise Gate, and I was disappointed in the harsh way I had portrayed the characters, who were based on family members. I don’t know why I did that, because I remember my early life as being good humored and fun. So that is the one I would correct.

I think everything I wrote in my thirties was propelled by anxiety, and my mood since then has been more upbeat and even-tempered. I think when you are in your thirties and have children you do become much more intimidated by the world—you are on your own now and expected to deal with it, and there is a lot more to deal with—more details, more people, more issues. And then, somehow, you learn to deal with them.

When it comes to writing, what makes you nervous even now?

Factual errors, even small ones. I try to do sufficient research so that I can avoid these, and I am very fond of fact-checkers and proofreaders, but I always feel that a factual error can undercut the argument you are making and blow it up.

If you get distracted by new ideas while you’re involved in a project that will take a long time to finish, what do you do to stop yourself from moving on to something new? Or do you work on more than one thing at a time?

I usually put off the idea but still harbor it and think about it. I don’t mind a little marination. I have had projects jam into one another, though. In that case, I split the week and work on one thing for a few days, then the other, back and forth.

I enjoyed writing almost everything I’ve ever written creatively, in one way or another or for one reason or another, but one short story in particular was just a whole lot of fun. What’s the most fun—pure, light, giddy fun—you’ve had writing, so far, and what made it fun?

The most fun was Moo, because I thought I was really funny and I laughed at every joke, and it didn’t matter if anyone else did or not.

The Greenlanders was utterly involving, and after the first fifty pages seemed to write itself. That was an amazing experience, but not one that I’ve wanted to repeat, because it was too weird.

Asked whether it was hard to write sex scenes from a man’s point of view for your novel Good Faith, your answer was, “No, I just changed penis to cock or dick.”

That made me laugh, and because on the surface it makes writing sex scenes sound simple, I almost forgot that before those words could be changed (even in the joking example), the foundation of a good sex scene would still have to exist.

Writing a good sex scene is a challenge for a lot of otherwise competent writers, but you’ve said you love writing them, that they’re fun—and not erotic, if you’re doing them right (unless you’re writing erotica). Where do sex scenes usually go terribly wrong, and what does it take to make them successful?

Sex scenes are not about getting aroused. They are about showing how a particular character goes about having sex, what it means, and what happens next.

They might be arousing, but what I really want the reader to do is keep reading, so the scenes have to be narratively interesting and meaningful, as idiosyncratic as any other scene. That means that you have to think about and investigate sex and relationships as frankly and intently as you would anything else that you are writing about (say, changes in the banking rules).

The more you treat it as just another thing, just another interesting thing, the better your sex scenes will be.

5 on Publishing

You initially imagined your trilogy, The Last Hundred Years (Some Luck, Early Warning, and Golden Age), as a single story in three volumes, the first two volumes ending mid-sentence, their subsequent volumes picking up the thread. Your editor didn’t go for it.

How did you feel about the dismissal of your artistic vision for this story you wanted to tell? Was it easy to accept because, after all, writing is a business, or can it be frustrating to not have the same artistic license as, say, a painter, who owns the whole canvas, and to not be entirely free to write “a novel of your own”?

There is always back and forth with the editor and with the publisher, unless you are Susan Sontag. The editor is your first outside reader, and the publisher is in it to make money, some of which goes to you. So it’s a good idea to at least listen to the publisher’s ideas about how the book you have written will best be organized to appeal to an audience.

In the end, you don’t have to listen, but it’s not bad to do so. After you are dead, they can publish the uncut version, and readers can decide who was right.

You said of writing, “If you love the process, you will be happy. If you focus on possible rewards, you will be unhappy.” What advice do you have for writers who are either self-publishing or in the process of looking for an agent or publisher and who almost can’t not think of the possible rewards, because they’re actively trying to work toward them?

Getting started can be frustrating, and I have no advice for people trying to get started today, because my experience is outdated. But there are plenty of authors from all eras who had a hard time getting into print. I guess my main advice is to keep at it until you just can’t stand it anymore.

It’s good to have friends and colleagues who are supportive and maybe trying to do the same thing, so that you can trade contacts and tips and commiseration. I think maybe having contacts and being in a group gives you a better chance at having some good luck.

You tell a story about how having won the Pulitzer Prize helped in an introduction with Arianna Huffington, who then invited you to write for the Huffington Post. Has the Pulitzer been useful in that way many times, and what are some of the pressures, if any, of having received the award?

The Pulitzer makes you famous, at least for a while, and so there are advantages and disadvantages. If you win it early, maybe you will be intimidated by the expectations people now have for you, but if you win it later, chances are your habits are formed, and it’s more of a glancing blow.

I tell that story about Arianna Huffington mostly as a joke. I think she would have let me contribute to HuffPo if I hadn’t won a Pulitzer. But I also have always lived away from the literary hot house, in Iowa or central California, so most people I relate to on a daily basis don’t care about it. That’s a good thing.

Speaking of the Huffington Post, many writers are very vocal in their contempt for a publication that typically doesn’t pay its bloggers but instead offers exposure, thereby reducing the value of writing overall, say those writers. What are your thoughts about publications that offer writers exposure, but no pay?

Well, they are proliferating—I just wrote a piece for the Literary Hub. But I was grateful to Arianna and did not mind not getting paid because I had a lot of feelings that I wanted to get off my chest, and no one in the world would have paid me for them. When I was just starting writing, most of my peers got published in alternative literary magazines—there was no money in that, either, but at least you were published and might get some compliments and some exposure. So I don’t think things are that different.

What in your writing life has excited you the most—made you feel, “Ah! I did it”—and what do you still want to achieve?

When The Greenlanders was about to be published, I was walking down the stairs in my house, and I thought, “I’ve written a great novel.” And it scared me to death. Not that people wouldn’t see it as that, but that I didn’t quite know where it came from, or how it happened. My greatest literary pleasures come from what I think of the books, and my second greatest come from what my husband thinks of the books, and I do like to get good reviews, of course.

Thank you, Jane.

Engaging Audiences through Twitter in 15 Minutes a Day

by Pauleon Tan | via Flickr

Today’s guest post is from writer and blogger Kirsten Oliphant (@kikimojo). Be sure to download her handy printable PDF checklist, Twitter in 15 Minutes a Day.

When I joined Twitter in 2009, I had pretty low expectations—as evidenced in my very first tweet:

Seven years later, Twitter is one of my favorite platforms. Using Twitter, I found my first writing mastermind group, landed podcast interviews with power influencers like Problogger’s Darren Rowse, and was once retweeted by Vanilla Ice. Twitter is the quickest way to interact with both the authors you love and the readers you hope to have for your books.

But, like any form of social media, Twitter can devour your time. Being intentional has helped me get the most out of Twitter in the least amount of time. I want to share with you a 15-minute daily plan that will help you utilize Twitter to connect with influencers and your ideal audience. I only wish I could travel back to 2009 and give this to myself!

Before we dive into the details, you need to think about your goals and the kinds of people you want to connect with on Twitter. It is important to be a creator (sharing your own content) and a curator (sharing the content of others). Be intentional about the tweets you create and curate. Ask yourself if your tweets will be relevant to the audience you want to build or will help you connect with influential Twitter users.

The Tools You’ll Need

Each of these tools is free, but has a paid version. My recommendation is always to use free unless the paid version has something that saves you time or makes you more effective.

Hootsuite or Buffer will help you create lists (which you can also do natively in Twitter) and schedule tweets. These are not the only Twitter tools, but by far the most popular. Buffer has some great Chrome extensions, while Hootsuite allows for unlimited scheduled tweets. Pick the one that works best for you. I almost never use Twitter itself, but manage Twitter through Hootsuite.

Manageflitter will help you manage followers. Making exceptions for those who share fantastic content, I will unfollow users if they do not follow me back. (I usually give them a few weeks to follow back before I unfollow.)

The Setup
Step 1: Create Lists

Before you can manage Twitter in 15 minutes a day, you’ll need to set up lists and populate them with relevant people. Using Buffer or Hootsuite, create a few basic lists centered around your activity: “tweets I’ve sent,” “mentions,” “my tweets people have retweeted,” “direct messages,” “my scheduled tweets,” and “my home feed.” Those help you manage your own feed.

Then create lists based around the influencers whose content you plan to share. As an example, you might have lists like these: “Writers I Love,” “People Tweeting about Writing,” “Bloggers Who Review Books,” “Publishers & Agents.” You have the option to set your lists as private, which means they are not visible. Private lists are especially important if you choose list names like: “The People I Really Like” or “Influencers I Wish Were My BFF.” Here is a glance at a few of my lists in Hootsuite:

Tip: See how the tweets with images catch your eye? Utilize images in 50 percent of your tweets to spark more engagement! The best size is 440 x 220 pixels.

Step 2: Connect with Other Influencers in Your Sphere

Seek out influencers in your niche or people successful in what you hope to do. Follow your favorite writers in all the genres you read, but especially the genre you want to write. You may also want to look for agents, publishers, relevant magazines, or bloggers who write about writing or books. Follow them and add them to different lists as you do. Add lists as necessary.

Step 3: Connect with Their Influencers

Scroll through the list of people your influencers follow and follow anyone relevant. If your favorite writer with 100,000 followers only follows 200 people, chances are they are significant. Add these people into your lists.

Step 4: Connect with Their Followers

If you want to attract the same kinds of readers as Gillian Flynn, follow her followers. Consider making a “Potential Readers” list or a “Book Lovers” list and add these people there. You can also look through the feeds of these people to see the interests and activities of your potential readership.

That’s a lot of following! But because people often follow back, this is a good way to build your following. You can only follow 2,000 people a day (and if you have time for that, you are spending too much time on Twitter). The goal is to follow people who are interesting to you and who might be interested in you. The purpose of lists is to help you organize these followers and to have an easy way to curate content.

Twitter in 15 Minutes a Day

Set a timer so you don’t fall into a social media black hole. And by all means, spend more time if you want to get serious about building up your Twitter account. But remember your overarching goals: do you want to be known as a Twitter power user or as a novelist? Where you spend your time reveals the answer.

Respond to Any Mentions or Retweets: 3 Minutes

Start by checking your lists where you can see any engagement. Who has responded to your tweets? Respond back. (If you want to take it a step further, see if they have any valuable tweets to retweet.) Who has shared or retweeted your content? Thank them for sharing. People love to see that you’re paying attention and it makes them more likely to share again.

Schedule Your Own Tweets: 3 Minutes

Schedule daily shares of your content. This may be links to your books on Amazon, blog posts or guest posts you have written, or links to your Instagram or Facebook posts. The goal is to craft great tweets that inspire sharing, so be intentional with your wording. I use the autoschedule feature in Hootsuite, which allows you to choose how many tweets you want to go live in a day and between what hours. This saves the time of having to choose a specific time and day. Mix up your posts! Use images. Try the poll feature or ask a question. Don’t just post links to your content.

Tip: Leave at least 24 characters in each tweet so that they are not too long for people to retweet.

Engage with Influencers: 3 Minutes

(This step and the next may be done in the same chunk of time.) Glance through your influencer lists and engage with any tweets that spark a response. Be genuine and don’t be desperate or spammy.

Schedule Tweets from Influencers: 3 Minutes

Schedule and share content from the influencers in your sphere. As with every stage of this, consider the kinds of content that will attract your ideal readers or audience. If there is enough room in each tweet, I will add a brief comment—or you can use the Quote Tweet feature in Twitter itself, which allows you to say a little more.

Find New People to Follow: 3 Minutes

Use the remaining time to find new people to follow using the same process you used during setup. This continues to give you new content to share and may connect you with people who want to read your work.

Weekly Tasks

Not everything can fit into a 15-minute chunk, so you may set aside one of your 15-minute periods to do these next tasks, or schedule separate time for Twitter in your week.

Long-term scheduling: I like daily scheduling, but sometimes I have a plan for more long-term schedules, especially if it relates to an event, like #NaNoWriMo. You can schedule tweets for particular days and times rather than relying on Autoschedule.
Manage followers through ManageFlitter: Using ManageFlitter, go back and unfollow the people who are not following you back or don’t have great content you are likely to share.
Join or watch twitter chats: Twitter chats can be another great way to connect around a particular topic. This is a fantastic way to really connect with relevant people. Find an exhaustive list of Twitter chats on Tweet Reports.
Check your analytics: Twitter has fantastic (and free!) analytics available. These can help you know what tweets are actually working for you. See what time of day people are interacting and what kinds of tweets are retweeted, responded to, or liked. Paying attention to the things that work will help you continue to create the best content for your ideal audience.

Whether you stick to this exact plan or adapt your own, the key to building a targeted audience on Twitter is being intentional, relevant, and active. Create and curate content to draw your ideal readers. Connect with relevant influencers in your niche as well as the kinds of people who want to read what you write. Find community through Twitter chats. Pay attention to what’s working and do it again and again.

Above all, manage your time on social media well so that you build a platform while writing, rather than instead of writing.

For more from Kirsten Oliphant, follow her on Twitter (@kikimojo), or download her PDF checklist, Twitter in 15 Minutes a Day.

The Agent’s Role in the Digital Age: A Conversation with Jessica Faust

by Miha TAMURA | via Flickr

Note from Jane: Today’s guest post is an interview with literary agent Jessica Faust(‪@BookEndsJessica‪) by Sangeeta Mehta (@sangeeta_editor), a former acquiring editor of children’s books at Little, Brown and Simon & Schuster, who runs her own editorial services company.

Many writers today opt to self-publish so they can bypass literary agents. Why go through what might be an endless cycle of sending out query letters—and pay an agent’s commission—when it’s so easy to publish a book independently?

Some of the most successful authors in the indie writing community, however, do have representation. So how does an agent assist in a debut or established writer’s self-publishing endeavors? Can an agent effectively advocate for her clients’ best interests if she’s also acting as their publisher? I spoke with literary agent Jessica Faust about these topics and more.

SANGEETA MEHTA: The constantly shifting digital publishing climate has prompted many literary agents to launch spin-off digital businesses. Is this why you started Beyond the Page Publishing? How does Beyond the Page assist writers with self-publishing? Is it for clients of your literary agency, BookEnds, only?

JESSICA FAUST: Back in 2011 I realized how important self-publishing was becoming and was going to be for authors. I wanted to make sure I had something to offer those clients who might be interested in diving into that world, but didn’t want to do it on their own, so I launched Beyond the Page. We do all editing, and while we say we only offer copyediting, our editorial director Bill Harris is really wonderful and usually works with authors on a much deeper level, providing revision suggestions where needed and doing line edits. We also do formatting, conversion (including adding changed material and reconverting files whenever needed), uploading to all sales sites, marketing help and pitches, copyright filing, and we provide an ISBN and hire a cover designer.

We started working primarily with BookEnds authors, but have expanded well beyond just the BookEnds client list. In fact, I would say that most of the Beyond the Page authors have come from outside BookEnds.

What is the benefit for agented writers to create or self-publish e-books through a literary agency as opposed to going through an aggregator or uploading their book directly onto the site of an e-book retailer?

I think the biggest benefit is that the agent can help guide a writer on making decisions that will help grow a career. Whether you’re self-publishing on your own or through your agent, it’s important to keep your agent in the loop and discuss many of your decisions with her. For example, if you decide to test a new genre, the agent might be able to sell it to a publisher, or work with you to make sure you can cross-promote your other material. An agent will also make sure you aren’t getting yourself into a situation, contractually, that could cause problems down the road.

What’s an example of such a contractual problem?

Typically a contract with a publisher will have both an option clause and a non-compete. The agent will always work to narrow those as much as possible, but you still need to understand them before self-publishing to prevent putting yourself in a position where you are in breach of contract. There are so many different examples: it could involve the same characters, the timeline for which you can publish something different, the type of book or genre you can publish. Communicating with your agent and letting her know what you’re publishing can help her determine how to narrow those clauses for you and can help ensure you aren’t doing anything against the contract.

Ultimately, it’s just helpful to keep everyone you consider part of your publishing team (and your agent should always be a part of this team) in the loop. There’s nothing worse than trying to sell a client’s newest project only to have an editor call and pass because of the self-published works you had no idea the client was doing. It’s embarrassing, but also often something that could have been prevented if the agent had been kept abreast of the situation.

Some publishing professionals feel that the idea of an agent-publisher is a conflict of interest—a vanity press in disguise. What is the argument for or against this idea? Does Beyond the Page charge fees? Work with any third-party services?

Yes, and I got hit hard by this when I first started Beyond the Page.

I can understand the concerns of others, but I think we work in a business full of conflicts of interest. Some could argue that it’s a conflict to represent two authors in the same genre or to be both writer and agent.

The publishing world is a changing place, and I decided to offer something to BookEnds clients who were considering self-publishing and wanted my involvement or just wanted a publishing team to work with. Since I didn’t think I could fairly provide these types of services at the standard agent commission, I established Beyond the Page. It’s a separate company and not an arm of BookEnds. I think the only way to alleviate the concerns of a conflict of interest is to look at my track record. I’ve never pushed an author to Beyond the Page and, in fact, suspect I have some authors who don’t even know it exists.

My goal is to help a client build a career in the way she wants. If Beyond the Page can help achieve that, great. If not, that’s fine too.

Beyond the Page has not worked with any third-party services. We don’t charge any upfront fees, but do share in the profits.

Hybrid or partnership publishers—which do charge fees—are becoming increasing popular. Unlike vanity presses, however, hybrid publishers have relationships with respected review journals and are often able to secure bookstore placement.

Again, some would say that publishers should never charge writers up front—that the hybrid publishing business model is unethical. But in light of the benefits these publishers provide—and the challenges other publishing paths may present—are they worth considering?

I think, as with anything, you need to be careful before making a commitment to anyone. You need to do your research and really understand what the company is going to offer you.

When making any publishing decisions (signing with an agent, a publisher or self-publishing), I think it’s important to have an idea of what you want out of your career. That can change, of course, and likely will, but knowing what kind of team you want, if you’d like a team, and what your goals are now and in the future can help you make the decisions that are right for you.

Would I encourage an unagented author to consider hybrid publishing? That depends entirely on what an author is looking for in her career. I think most authors choose hybrid publishing because they like the idea of turning something over to a publisher or a team and having their guidance and feedback. Self-publishing is entrepreneurship. It’s a lot more than simply throwing a book on Amazon.

A publishing career is a very personal thing. There are authors who want to solely self-publish and who have great success doing that, there are others who would prefer to stay in a traditional publishing relationship, and there are those who want a little of both. I don’t think any of those decisions, or how you choose to go about achieving them, is wrong. I think publishing is a business, and how you choose to run and grow your business depends on you.

Back in 2004, you placed Debbie Allen’s self-published book Positively Fearless Selling with the Dearborn Publishing Group after it sold over 30,000 copies. How has pitching self-published books to traditional publishers changed in the last decade? Would 30,000 copies in sales for a business/finance book still be enough to attract the attention of a traditional publisher? When considering self-published nonfiction books, what are traditional publishers looking for in terms of the author’s platform?

I have to confess that I’m not representing nearly as much nonfiction as I used to, so I haven’t tried to sell a self-published book in a while, and fiction and nonfiction would be very different when it comes to selling a self-published work to a traditional house.

The thing to note is that Debbie sold 30,000 copies of her print book at print prices ($14.99 or so), which is a lot different from selling an ebook at varying price points, or giving it away for free.

When considering a platform, publishers want to know how many books the author can potentially sell. I don’t mean actually sell, but what her reach is. Does she speak to hundreds of people each month who will potentially buy the book? Will she purchase the book for giveaways at such an event? Does she write popular articles or blogs? Does she have an already proven audience? Again, though, the platform has to make the author stand out, and the subject of the book will make a difference too.

Who is the best candidate for self-publishing? Established authors who have been dropped by their publishers—or who want leave their longtime publishers (Cornelia Funke)? Bestselling authors looking to experiment outside of their brand (Jane Green)? In what cases is self-publishing the right choice for a debut author looking to gain a mainstream readership?

We don’t always know why readers gravitate to a certain kind of book or an author, but it is always more difficult for a debut author to be discovered. I think bestselling authors or authors with a track record will have an easier time finding success. In many ways, self-publishing isn’t all that different from traditional publishing.

That’s an intriguing point. Will you elaborate?

We still can’t guarantee a book will sell. Some of the best-written books struggle to find an audience, while another book will become an instant bestseller despite any attempts to market or publicize it. I think one of the things many self-published authors have learned is that it’s not easy, there is no simple formula to making a book a success, and what works for one author doesn’t necessarily work for all. Readers are fickle and unpredictable, and in some ways that’s what is so amazing about this business.

You spoke earlier about how agents can be helpful to authors who want to test a new genre by self-publishing. Do you have any authors who have done this, and did they use their own name or a pseudonym? Is there an advantage to using a pseudonym if the test work isn’t intended to build the author’s brand?

I do. Definitely. Some I didn’t know about until well after it was done. In some ways, it was a shame, really, because they were books I would have loved to have had a chance to pitch to New York houses. Authors who have done this have done it both under their own names and pseudonyms.

I used to have an easy answer to the advantages to a pseudonym, but the market has changed so much that I’m not always sure it matters. I think using a pseudonym can help you try new things without potentially damaging your current brand or turning off your current audience. However, when something takes off, you lose the advantage of a crossover audience. That being said, we have taken backlists from authors and republished the material using their new, more successful, author brand.

Some writers choose to self-publish not only because of the lure of higher royalties, but also because of the transparency these platforms offer, at least in terms of book sales. How effective are traditional publishers’ author and agency portals in addressing the need for up-to-date data and analytics? Is the constant innovation on the part of self-publishing platforms and aggregators forcing traditional publishers to do the same?

Of course this depends on the author portal and the publisher. I think publishers have come to realize that this transparency makes a difference with authors and are working to do what they can to give authors all of the information they can. Some publishers have really nailed this, and others are still working on it.

Can you provide an example of a specific publisher that’s nailed its portal? Why do you think this is?

The one that first comes to mind is Penguin Random House. Not only do the authors have access to their royalty statements, but they have full access to recent sales data and can chart and graph the sales of their books. It’s also incredibly user friendly. I know the authors love it, and so do I.

You began your publishing career as an acquiring editor, opened BookEnds as a book packaging company, and then turned the company into a literary agency. How has your experience as an editor and packager informed your role as an agent? As an agent who assists clients with self-publishing?

I came to all of these positions with an understanding of how a publishing house works. I understand how decisions are made and why some decisions are made. I also know how many books are presented to the editorial board and how many of those will be offered a contract. I think all of this has helped me make my own decisions when taking on new clients and projects. It’s also helped me determine how much editing a project might need and whether or not I’m the person to do it.

On the self-publishing front, I use my knowledge of marketing, cover copy, and cover design garnered from art meetings. That being said, it was a lifetime ago that I worked at a publishing house, and so much has changed since then, so a lot of today’s knowledge has come from the work I’ve been doing as an agent.

Do you have any other advice for agented writers who are hoping their agent will assist them with self-publishing their out-of-print backlist or new works? For unagented writers who are considering working with an established literary agency that has a self-publishing arm or side business?

I don’t really. Of all the things that have changed in publishing, I don’t think choosing an agent has. You need to know what you want from your career (and understand that will likely change as your career evolves) and you need to choose an agent who has the same vision as yours. Most importantly, you need to choose an agent you feel comfortable working with and making big decisions with. You need someone on your team you trust, like, and respect.

About Jessica Faust

As owner and president at BookEnds, Jessica Faust (‪@BookEndsJessica‪) prides herself on working closely with her authors to bring their goals to fruition. Jessica has worked with a number of bestselling and award-winning authors. Her areas of expertise are in the genres of women’s fiction, mystery, suspense, romance, and young adult. In nonfiction her focus is primarily on business, entrepreneurship, career, parenting, current affairs, and health and wellness.

A veteran of publishing, Jessica began her career in 1994 as an acquisitions editor at Berkley Publishing, Macmillan, and Wiley. Jessica has been a regular columnist with Romantic Times magazine, she has taught at New York University’s Continuing Education Program, she’s been recognized as Agent of the Year by the NYC Romance Writers of America chapter, and she is asked regularly to speak at writers’ conferences throughout the world. She is a member of RWA, MWA, SCBWI, ITW, and AAR. A native of Minnesota, Jessica now lives in New Jersey.

The Big Reason Why Agents and Editors Often Stop Reading

by Russell Honeywell | via Flickr

Note from Jane: Today’s post is an excerpt from Paula Munier’s Writing with Quiet Hands, recently released from Writer’s Digest Books.

As a reader, a writer, and an agent, I read thousands of stories a year—or at least the opening pages of thousands of stories. And, all other things being equal, the reason I most often stop reading is a lack of narrative thrust.

Narrative thrust is the taut building of story, beat by beat, scene by scene, chapter by chapter, using the complexities of plot and character to propel the story forward in a dramatic arc that peaks at the climax. You must write each scene so that it leads logically to the next, as if you were connecting a model train, car by car, presenting story questions as you proceed down the track, pushing the action forward to its inevitable, if unpredictable, ending.

A lack of narrative thrust occurs when one scene does not logically lead to another.

You need to connect each scene, as readers need to know what the protagonist’s motives are, and what he wants in every scene. Only then will they care about what happens next. Otherwise your story will read as a series of random scenes strung together—rather than as a compelling narrative.

Narrative thrust provides momentum for a story; it’s the gas that fuels your story’s engine. You can also think of it as the magnet that pulls the reader through the story. You know it when you experience it—just think of the last story that kept you up all night, the last novel you couldn’t read fast enough and yet didn’t want to end.

But recognizing narrative thrust as a reader and knowing how to create it as a writer are two very different things. So let’s take a look at how you can enhance the narrative thrust of your story—and how you may be unwittingly sabotaging it.

The Art of the Story Question

When we talk about novels with narrative thrust, we’re not just talking about the page-turners written by the Gillian Flynns and Harlan Cobens of the thriller world. The best novels in every genre boast a strong narrative thrust. Simply put, this means that the authors have mastered the art of the story question—the who, what, where, when, why, and how questions readers ask themselves as they read, and keep reading.

Much to my family’s annoyance, I’ve been obsessed with story questions since childhood. As a kid, I drove my father crazy asking a million questions as we watched his favorite shows on television. Why doesn’t Matt Dillon shoot first (Gunsmoke)? Is Captain Kirk going to kill all those cute Tribbles (Star Trek)? Can Phelps really train a cat to be a spy (Mission Impossible)? Can I be Joey Heatherton when I grow up (The Dean Martin Show)? The Colonel, not one to appreciate the artistic temperament, would say in an authoritarian voice, “Watch and find out.”

My compulsion to question every beat of a story worsened over time. Once I became a writer and an editor, this obsession became an occupational hazard that always threatened to ruin the viewing pleasure of my non-publishing friends and family. Yes, I’m the terrible person who leaned toward my companion watching The Sixth Sense just a few minutes into the film and stage-whispered, “But he’s dead, isn’t he?” Even now, decades later, I still drive people crazy by asking questions while we watch a show together. Especially my non-writer partner, Michael, who, like my father, has a tendency to answer my ubiquitous questions with a sweet if somewhat terse, “Let’s watch and find out, honey.”

If you do this—aloud or silently—as you enjoy a story in any medium, congratulate yourself. Even if your friends and family hate you for it, it’s a good thing. You’re thinking like a writer, putting your writing self in the storyteller’s place and asking yourself, “What would I do if I were writing this story?” Just as important, you’re noticing the story questions in the narrative—and learning by osmosis how you can build them into your own narrative.

The most successful artists balance imagination with craft, creativity with logic. For a writer, this balance is critical because even the most original story told illogically will fail. When it comes to this delicate balance, narrative thrust is the canary in the coal mine. You need to build your original story in a sensible way, pulling your readers along clearly and cleanly with story questions that arise logically from your lucid and precise prose.

3 Levels of Story Questions

Story questions are posed at the macro, meso, and micro levels—and your job is to build them all into your prose.

The macro story question is the big question that drives the entire plot: Will Cinderella marry her prince? Will Dorothy make it home to Kansas? How will Sherlock Holmes solve the case?

The meso story questions drive each scene: Will Cinderella’s stepmother let her go to the ball once she’s finished her chores? Will Dorothy survive the cyclone? Will Dr. Watson move into 221B Baker Street with Sherlock Holmes?

And the micro questions are the questions scattered through the narrative at every opportunity—the more the better, as shown below, from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum:

The house whirled around two or three times and rose slowly through the air [Where is the house going?]. Dorothy felt as if she were going up in a balloon [What will happen to Dorothy? Will she survive?].

The north and south winds met where the house stood [That can’t be good, right?], and made it the exact center of the cyclone [Is that good or bad?]. In the middle of a cyclone the air is generally still, but the great pressure of the wind on every side of the house raised it up higher and higher, until it was at the very top of the cyclone [How high is high? What will happen when the house falls?]; and there it remained and was carried miles and miles away as easily as you could carry a feather [What about Dorothy and Toto? What’s happening to them? Will they be carried away like feathers, too? When will gravity win out?].

If you’re thinking, Give me a break, this example is very old. Times have changed, and the criteria are different now—well, you’re half right. This is an old example and times have changed and the criteria are different—they’re even worse now, at least in terms of story questions. You need to start immediately with compelling story questions and keep ’em coming until The Very End, as Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel does from the first word:

Felled, dazed, silent, he has fallen [Who has fallen? Is he
 badly hurt or just scared? If so, of whom? Did he hit his head? Why is he dazed?]; knocked full length on the cobbles of the yard [Cobbles? Yard? Where is he?]. His head turns sideways; his eyes are turned toward the gate [What gate? To or from where?], as if someone might arrive to help him out [Will someone arrive to help him? Who? Does he have no friends? No family?]. One blow, properly placed, could kill him now [Who’s going to kill him? Whoever’s talking to him? Who would want to? Why? What is he going to do? Just lie there and let it happen?].

Did you note all the story questions raised in just a few opening lines? That’s narrative thrust. That’s your competition. That’s what you need to do, too.

Pacing

At its heart, the purpose of narrative thrust is to put the fear of the storytelling gods in your readers. Whether you are writing a horror story or a lighthearted romance, you are scaring your readers into turning the pages. Do your job right, and they’ll want to see what happens next; they’ll need to see what happens next. They’ll feel compelled to keep reading, no matter how late the hour or how long the story.

The logical progression of your scenes, as well as the story questions that fuel the action in those scenes, are responsible for scaring your readers silly. But just as important is pacing, the rate of your narrative thrust. Pacing is the gait of your storytelling—and a slow horse is a dead horse.

The very word pacing has become a touchstone in the industry today; if I had a dollar for every editor who complained publicly or privately about the so-called “pacing problems” plaguing today’s submissions, I’d have a lot more dollars—and lot more deals. It’s gotten to the point where many editors will refuse to review manuscripts based solely on word counts they deem too high. The rationale: If the story is that long, it must have “pacing problems.”

To make sure your pacing is on track, here are some dos and don’ts, all of which you ignore at your peril:

DO make something happen. The biggest issue in most stories is that not enough happens. There’s no narrative thrust without action.
DO have your protagonist drive that action. The reader wants to identify with the hero, and through him experience the transformative journey that the story takes him on. When the hero is passive or inactive or a bystander to the proceedings, the reader’s interest flags.
DON’T confuse foreshadowing with forecasting. Foreshadowing is a literary tool by which you use tone and style to create a mood or evoke a feeling, typically of foreboding. This helps create suspense. But when you come right out and tell the reader what (usually) bad thing is going to happen, you’re forecasting—and eliminating any suspense that may otherwise have strengthened your narrative thrust.
DON’T break the fourth wall. This is often an excuse to tell the reader what’s going to happen before it happens—thereby destroying any suspense you may be trying to build. This is the “If only I had known” device, which is hopelessly old-fashioned and, more often than not, just plain lame. As in: “If only I had known that by the end of the day/night/week/month/year, my career/ romance/life would be changed forever.” Again, you’re depriving your readers of the element of surprise. Worse, you’re taking them out of your story to do it.
DO raise the stakes for your heroine. Give her bigger and bigger obstacles to overcome as your story progresses; make those story questions increasingly challenging.
DO add a ticking clock if you can. Give your protagonist a hard-stop deadline—if he doesn’t find the bomb by 2 p.m., it goes off; if she doesn’t tell her mother to butt out of her life by Friday, she’ll miss the chance to sail off into the sunset with her beloved on that weekend cruise to Catalina.
DO as the king of pacing, Lee Child, says: “Write the slow parts fast and the fast parts slow.”
DON’T belabor your descriptions. Stick to the one telling detail. Don’t describe your heroine’s every feature; just tell us that she never leaves the house without mascara.
DON’T let your characters talk too much. Dialogue should not replace action.
DO aim, above all, for clarity. Whenever readers have to stop to think about what you’re trying to say—or worse, reread it!—you risk losing them forever.

Pacing is the one element of craft I am very particular about as an agent. If the pacing is off, I won’t shop the story. Period.

For more on the art and craft of writing from Paula Munier, check out Writing with Quiet Hands, just released from Writer’s Digest Books.

 

5 Ways to Use Instagram as an Author

Note from Jane: This post is an excerpt from Social Media for Writers: Marketing Strategies for Building Your Audience and Selling Books (Writer’s Digest Books) by Tee Morris (@TeeMonster) and Pip Ballantine (@PhillipaJane).

When you hear about networking platforms or building a presence on social media, authors generally talk about Facebook, Twitter, and blogging straight away. Sometimes podcasting and Pinterest are mentioned.

But Instagram?

We asked our community of writers what questions they had about Instagram. Writer, podcaster, and photographer J.R. Blackwell said point-blank “Should I even bother?” She went on to say she didn’t think Instagram was a bad platform (and as she is a professional photographer, we would have been surprised if she thought it was), but the question was: How would it be a good platform for authors?

Instagram is a social media outlet writers in general do not seriously consider a viable promotion platform. They may try it out for a brief spell, have a bit of fun, and then forget they have the app on their smartphone. With the right approach and application, though, Instagram can provide a treasure trove of visual content for a writer.

Now, before you think that “visual content” for a writer consists of nothing more than a picture of a laptop with a work-in-progress on the screen (which we’ve found that followers on Instagram and elsewhere do respond to!), think again. It’s possible to cast a more imaginative net by including character inspirations, behind-the-scenes research or travel, or even a quick link back to your blog. You must go beyond a writer’s desk or book signings.

1. Author appearances

Book signings can only be so interesting. A snapshot of you with pen at the ready and books arranged neatly is fine, but then what? Depending on the appearance and the location, quite a bit. If you are appearing with other authors on a panel discussion, you can take a photo of the discussion. After the panel, why not snap a candid shot with the other authors or editors attending? (Ask if they are on Instagram so you can tag them accordingly.) You can also post Instagrams that document your travel to various conventions and conferences where you will be presenting. Geotag where each of these moments is taking place and invite readers within driving distance to join you there. You can also repost images or video from other authors’ feeds to boost the signal, provided you know of other Instagram-using writers who are attending the event with you.

2. Upcoming releases, special events, and cover reveals

Do you have a date for your next novel or approval from your publisher to reveal your next book cover? Share artwork pertaining to your upcoming launch. Whether it is an original graphic you create, or a cropped section of your cover, Instagram—with Iconosquare added into the mix—gives you the ability to send out a single post across seven social networks. This post can point back to one central location, whether it’s your blog, a link to pre-order your book, or another place on the Internet. You can also create original artwork publicizing special events—a crowdfunding event, a charity anthology, or an upcoming appearance—where you will be participating. The image you create for Instagram can also serve as your own branded artwork for the event in question.

3. The writer’s life

Photos of what you’re reading, what’s on your computer screen, print resources on the corner of your desk, or where you are drawing inspiration from make for interesting visual content. It’s a peek behind the curtain, a delightful look at what inspires you and what words are filling the page. Depending on how much you want to share, you can also post the sunrise from a morning walk or your view from a writer’s retreat. There’s a lot that goes into writing a book—share it on Instagram.

4. Insta-competitions

Competitions are a proven way to increase your number of followers on Instagram, but don’t go this route until you have at least a small following. It’s hard to make a splash if only a few people are following you.

Instagram is nice enough to spell out rules for promotional guidelines. You are responsible for the lawful operation of your contest—this makes sure Instagram isn’t in trouble if you fail to obey local laws. You cannot ask your readers to inaccurately tag content or people in their entries. All promotions must have a note from Instagram that releases the company of responsibility, and all entrants must point out that Instagram is not endorsing, sponsoring, or administering the contest. Instagram will not help out with your promotion nor give you any advice pertaining to it. Finally, you must agree that you are running the contest at your own risk. Keep those guidelines in mind while you design your giveaway.

User-generated content competitions are popular on Instagram and a great way to encourage creativity among your followers. They also have the advantage of not running afoul of any local laws governing sweepstakes.

In order to fit in all the rules, prizes, and directions for entrants, you should create a post or page on your blog or website. You then put this URL in your Instagram post. The hashtag that you are using to keep track of entrants should be included as well.

So what do you ask people to do? Keep it simple, and make sure it involves nothing dangerous or too outrageous. A picture of a participant with your book (“book selfies”), dressed up like a character, or posing with something significant related to the book (an artifact or some related item) are all good choices. Or you could go with something related to your genre that is more open to interpretation.

Before launching the competition, make your own competition graphic to post on Instagram, and make sure it contains the hashtag you have come up with.

Don’t forget to spread the word about your competition through your other social networks.

5. Teasers and motivationals

Selections from your upcoming release are always great teases to get readers excited. In the same way graphic designers use pull quotes from a magazine article to grab a reader’s attention, authors can use juicy character quotes, and small bits of narrative to tantalize readers with what’s to come in their next work. Teasers work here the same way Hollywood entices fans with iconic imagery in a movie poster—you give your readers just a hint of what is coming.

Motivationals are similar to teasers, but they come from advice or essays on your blog. You might wonder: Isn’t it a little arrogant to offer up my inspirational quotes alongside Stephen King, J.K. Rowling, and Mark Twain? But consider the motivational you create less of a “Bask in my brilliance!” graphic and more of a “This is what I want you to take away” graphic.

Important caveat: Links are not active on Instagram, but when cross-posted on Facebook and Tumblr, using the http:// lead-in, URLs can take readers from your cross-posting to wherever you want them to go.

 

For more on social media strategies for writers, check out Tee Morris and Pip Ballantine’s Social Media for Writers, recently released by Writer’s Digest Books.

 

5 On: Heather Hale

In this 5 On interview, Heather Hale discusses the top five mistakes screenwriters make, the usefulness (or not) of online script databases, how to approach a first screenwriting contract, and more.

Heather Hale is an independent film and television director, screenwriter, and producer. Her fifty hours of award-winning television productions include Absolute Killers (2001) starring Edward Furlong, Meat Loaf Aday, and Ed Asner; The Courage to Love (2000), the Lifetime Original Movie she sold off of a spec screenplay after attaching Vanessa L. Williams to star opposite Diahann Carroll, Gil Bellows, and Stacy Keach; and two Emmy-winning PBS edutainment series. Focal Press will publish her book How to Work the Film & TV Markets in June 2016. Heather teaches online classes and webinars and will be leading a screenwriting/acting retreat in Turin, Italy, in the summer of 2016.

5 on Writing

CHRIS JANE: What movie or movies ignited your interest in screenwriting, and what was your very first (even if it ended up in a drawer) screenplay about?

HEATHER HALE: Movies—I answered this in Script: Star Wars, Night of the Living Dead (as a kid in reruns on free TV), Elephant Man, and of course, the John Hughes movies that punctuated growing up in the ’80s—but I’m not sure if they are what ignited my interest in screenwriting.

First script—It’s also hard to say what my first screenplay was. It’s a toss-up between what I was first inspired to write and the opportunity I first recognized. The latter’s been written about extensively, so I’ll focus on the former, which I don’t think I’ve ever spoken about much publicly.

I discovered I wanted to be a writer literally as I learned how to write (at four). When I was coming of age, I don’t think we necessarily even knew what screenwriting was, per se. I went to college to become a novelist. Maybe I’d write short stories or become a playwright, essayist, political cartoonist, stringer, or embedded reporter—or a children’s storybook writer—but the visual, spectacle, adventure, humor, and dramatic performance elements were always parts of storytelling to me. I directed a play as a kid, was in musical theater, etc.

I was perhaps first compelled to write a screenplay by my older brother’s heartbreak. It was the whole family’s heartbreak, actually. We all thought he was happily married in a Norman Rockwell-esque marriage complete with the Gerber baby when it all came crashing down around him when his wife came out of the closet. Her living a lie and shocking infidelity ripped three generations of two families apart. This is much more common now, but at the time it was really rare. Way pre-Ross on Friends. It was like the rug was pulled out from underneath all of us who had been cluelessly caught up in her charade. The lowest level of hell, according to Dante, is reserved for those who betray those who love them (their families).

The script was called Bait & Switch. It was a profoundly personal, therapeutic process and I learned a lot about love, identities, family—and expressing the nuances of what you really mean on the page through rewriting that from divergent points of view and experimenting with different genres and storytelling techniques. I never quite nailed it (and my two-year-old nephew has since graduated from high school). But I have two interesting stories to share about cutting my teeth on this first script that I hope can be edifying to other writers.

I took lots of great classes getting my screenwriting certificate at UCLA (after my BA in creative writing from SDSU). One was with the great Neill D. Hicks, who wrote Writing the Thriller Film. He assigned us an in-class writing exercise to have one character respond to the other, who’s asking “What do you want?” I had my protagonist (my brother) ask his closeted wife who had to finally come clean (on the page, at least) responding with “I want a divorce”—and the imagined dialogue that poured out of me in the aftermath.

I was asked to share mine aloud. I struggled not to cry, as it was so emotional for me, but this became infinitely more critical to mask as the whole class was in stitches. Howling. They found it hysterical.

My instructor checked in with me in the midst of the best stand-up routine I had ever inadvertently given, making sure: “That was meant as a comedy, right?” I gulped. Looked around at the reveling faces and could do nothing more than nod to belie my humiliation—and finish. I learned a powerful lesson that day: that old adage that what can be truly tragic to you can be pure comedy to others.

Through too many classes and writers groups, I tried and tried to make it funny—but it was never funny to me. I was “forced” by one “teacher” to write it from the wife’s point of view, to make her the rootworthy heroine to my brother as some sort of feminazi straw man. And while I’m the first to write strong, empowered female stories and am blessed with the full spectrum of LGBT friends, this never felt truthful to me either. This wasn’t her story. At least not from my perspective. This was the other side of the closet. The silent, tiny, forgotten minority lost in the midst of gay pride parades. Making her the hero (for a pass), however, did enrich and deepen my understanding of the fictionalized character. By walking in my antagonist’s shoes, I imagined some of the scenarios from her (very Catholic) side.

This can be an exhaustive and revelatory exercise if you’re struggling to empathize with—and flesh out—an otherwise one-dimensional character you simply can’t relate to. This has proven to be a powerful tool for my clients writing environmentalist or animal rights activist scripts. Sometimes it’s hard to even imagine the challenge from the other side, but there are always at least three sides to every story, each distorting the perceived truth. Movies like The Rock, Extreme Measures, Little Children, and American History X allow you to have a glimpse into the minds of characters making otherwise unconscionable choices.

Others suggested I try to make it a thriller, where it was intentional on her part (to get pregnant and secure eighteen years of support), but I’m not so sure she was that cognizant (initially, at least). This is all before you racked up the marketability strikes against it: it felt like a Lifetime movie—but with a male lead. (Lifetime doesn’t even make those movies). And what male actor would attach to a project where he is presented with a problem he simply can’t solve? And it wasn’t going to appeal to the LGBT audience particularly, either. So, who was its core audience?

It flip-flopped all over the place with too many mostly well-intentioned cooks wanting to shove their own spices into the mix as I strove to keep it authentic. It was a dramedy before anyone understood what that genre even was (and that they could actually be successful). People laugh at funerals, cry at inopportune times. The drama masks have shown tragedy and comedy side by side—as in life—since the Greeks.

I finally brought it to another terrific UCLA extension instructor, Thomas Szollosi, who wrote Three O’Clock High, among other things. I sheepishly handed him the script, admitting “I have a tonal problem.” The next week in class, he threw the script across my desk and pronounced, “You don’t have a problem! You have a style!” He went on to praise my writing, saying that it had “the bittersweet sardonic poignancy of As Good As It Gets and the complicated family relationships of a Neil Simon play. There’s truth on every page.”

Wow. Just wow. I stopped trying to please everyone. And stuck to my guns.

Jeff Arch, the brilliant writer of Sleepless in Seattle, later told me I had to “find the satisfying ending.” And bless his heart, I tried and I tried. It might take me another decade or two, because I haven’t figured out how to twist it into a happy—or even a satisfying—ending.

But it inspired me to write. To at least try to get it right. Some writing is therapy. And probably doesn’t ever need to be read by anyone but you.

So, in a drawer it stays.

How much voice freedom does a screenwriter have, and how important (or not) is vivid, beautiful writing if the story itself is good?

Wow. Tough questions!

The story has to be great. Period. Full stop.

I hope the experience I shared above is evidence for how important it is to honor your voice among the noise we must endure as artists—even as groups of well-meaning writer friends cut their teeth on your back or terrific mentors try to help shape your writing. You need to know how to pick and choose feedback that serves your vision for your story, not how anyone else would write it.

Beautiful writing—or, rather, effective, tonally appropriate writing—is critical. I’m always amazed when “writers” don’t seem to care about spelling errors, typos, or formatting errors. They won’t “fix it in post”! This is your job. (Or at least the job you profess to want). The better you write, the more successful you’ll be. Maybe. At least you’ll have a better shot. But if you’re trying to present yourself as a professional writer, write professionally.

Succinctly. Candidly. Beautifully’d be a bonus.

Outside of formatting issues, what are the five most common mistakes new screenwriters make in the writing of the script?

Five, huh?

Not knowing what their story is. I mean, what it really is, underneath. What’s the theme? What kind of a journey is it? What genre? How can it deliver on the promise of the premise?
Not knowing why they are writing it. What’s their intention? What do they want the audience to get from the story? How do you want viewers to feel when they walk out of the theater or turn off the TV? How do you want readers feeling when they finish your script? What was the point of watching or reading this project?
Not knowing (or remembering to point out and use) why they are the perfect writer to write this script. What unique perspective or point of view or life experiences do you bring to this specific project that no other writer could? Why should I hire you versus the thousand other able scribes? What subject matter expertise and unique empathy can you imbue the pages, images, and moments with?
Forgetting (or never having learned or not yet having mastered the skill) to emulate the viewing experience on the page. Screenplays are not scratch and sniff. “The room smells of patchouli.” It might, yes; indeed, it might. In your mind’s eye. But how do I capture that with a camera? There are lots of ways. But you must write it the best way. We can’t shoot what’s inside someone’s head or in their backstory. It’s your job, as a writer of what will go up on that screen in moving pictures, to bring that subtext to life, to unfurl the story in action before our viewing (or reading) eyes. Make me envision it in the screen inside my head if I’m reading your pages. Make me see your story. Feel it.
Disparaging the entire industry, having zero concept of how hard it is to get a film or television show on any kind of screen and derisively thinking they can get away with writing “crap as bad as that” while ignoring the layers of mastery that go into even the most marginal efforts. It’s far harder than the magic makes it look. This is a particularly foolhardy mistake to make when pitching to someone in the industry! You’re essentially insulting their life’s work—and everyone they know. I’m forever amazed at the rookies who come into the biz already jaded and cynical from stories they’ve heard (fifth hand)—but haven’t even earned the right to give it a fair shot.

Loglines seem like they should be easy to write. Why aren’t they, and what advice can you offer that will make them easier?

Wow. I’m doing a whole webinar on them! And a chapter in my upcoming book $toryselling: How to Pitch Film & TV Projects! I also talked about them briefly in my How to Work the Film & TV Markets (coming out in June through Focal Press).

Loglines are the hardest, most important things you’ll ever write. And rewrite. And rewrite. Maybe after vows and eulogies. And professionally, after titles. But you might not even get to have a say in your title (but keep a running list!)—or it’ll get changed time and time again beyond your control. But the logline usually starts with you and has to carry the football a really long way—from query letter to pitch all the way up the ladder and across the desks to the various powers that be.

Why are they so hard to write? Because they are the reduction sauce of writing. You have to condense 120 pages into about thirty-five words. Not even a word per page! But less than one word for every four pages! Talk about streamlined! And every word is changed a hundred times to test every conceivable nuance until you nail it. Which you never do—but you keep on trying!

One iteration might be to start with the title, kick off with the genre (so your listeners or readers don’t go down any rabbit holes on their own!):

[Title] is a [genre] about [an interesting, proactive Protagonist] who wants to/must [P’s goal] but [conflict = obstacles that get in the way/stakes if Protagonist fails].

Or

When [the inciting event happens], [our Hero] must [pursue the goal/drive the plot].

Always look for the source of conflict in the story. In an action-driven piece, it will be in the triangulation of the goal versus the stakes against the ticking clock. If your protagonist is not proactively pursuing a plot-driven goal (i.e., a feature or contained episode), then maybe you have more of a character-driven or situational story. If you have created circumstances that accentuate a clearly defined central problem, perpetuating it from every angle but never actually solving it, then you might have written something that lends itself to serial television programming.

If you have written a transformational character arc, make sure you point out your hero’s flaw in your logline, as it is key to your theme. In a character-driven piece, the conflict will come from the situation she finds herself confronted by (i.e., the outer conflict catalyzing her inner growth). An ironic twist at the end of a logline is always good for extra credit—especially for comedies and thrillers.

I wrote a blog on the art of pitching that might be of help here, as well as “Do’s and Don’t’s of Reality Show Pitch Proposals.”

Is there a screenplay you can point to that screenwriters writing today should read simply as a fine example of screenwriting? Not necessarily to emulate (each person is his or her own writer), but to learn from and appreciate?

Oh wow, there are so many! Just line up all the Academy-nominated ones, the ones nominated by the WGA, the Indie Spirit Awards, the AFI, Cannes, Sundance, Toronto, critics around the world (the Golden Globes), the Black List. Maybe read one in each genre you write in. Or others you don’t. To see what you’re missing or could repurpose in a unique way. Read your favorites. Read your project’s comps, especially. The classics of your genre. Read the underlying source novel or article. Read, read, read, read, read!

If Shawkshank Redemption is your favorite movie, read everything Frank Darabont has adapted from Stephen King (The Green Mile, The Mist). If you’re an Elmore Leonard fan, check out Scott Frank’s adaptations of Out of Sight and Get Shorty. If you’re wanting to write modern, empowered female role models, study the career trajectories of Jennifer Lawrence (Winter’s Bone, Silver Linings Playbook, American Hustle, The Hunger Games franchise) and Shailene Woodley (The Descendants, The Fault in Our Stars, Divergent franchise). Read animation.

Many up-and-coming writers try to sustain themselves financially by reading for contests and to support their craft addiction via writers groups—all of which is fine, but they then run the risk of being inundated with bad scripts. You just gotta balance out the derivative drivel with the sublime scripts that are actually getting made—and blowing away the competition. Read some of these and you are instantly humbled but simultaneously inspired.

5 on Publishing/Selling

You advise people with brilliant screenplay ideas to “Write one. Sell one.”

Advice on how to sell a screenplay ranges from (1) attend conferences and trade shows, to (2) upload a manuscript to a database like The Black List, Amazon Studios, or Virtual Pitchfest and get discovered!, to (3) send blind queries to agents or producers, to (4) know somebody (this is the one most emphasized).

What’s the truth about selling a screenplay? Do directors and producers really comb the online databases for new material? Can someone who doesn’t know anyone and who can’t afford to attend the critical trade shows ever hope to sell a script? Where do the new screenplays you personally see come from? (People you know? Online databases? Blind queries? Etc.)

No. I don’t! LOL! Not at all!

I have a folder for the hundreds—literally—of queries that get email blasted to me incessantly. I don’t know of anyone who actually combs through these emails or databases looking for anything. We’re all battling off swarms of pitches and queries. We don’t have to proactively look anywhere—we have to swat them away to see the sun!

Stage32 and the Happy Writers does a good job with their Skype pitches. They are well curated and managed, affordable, and accessible. I’ve heard nothing but good things about them. It’s one-on-one, face-to-face (albeit screen-to-screen, but that saves you airfare, hotel, and missed days of work!). You’ll see a lot of these services popping up, but just as many are as suspect as the real-world (in-person) pitch fests. There are a few good ones out there. You just have to do your due diligence on everyone, every event and entity.

I don’t think you should ever send a blind query to anyone.

Ever.

Ever.

The tools you have at your disposal these days are mindboggling. Google is your best friend. IMDbPro. Variety Insight. The Wrap. Be targeted. Be specific. Hone your pitch and your target list. And hone ’em both some more.

I teach a whole PowerNetworking series on this and recently taught a webinar for Stage 32 on this topic, and a related one on how to get managers for The Writers Store, specifically, and even one for filmmakers attaching talent. I also wrote an article that might be helpful (if you’re pitching TV shows): “How (and Where) Should I Pitch MY TV Show?”

Screenwriter Alex Epstein, author of Crafty Screenwriting, writes in a blog post, “Some writers (Babylon 5 creator J. Michael Straczynski, for example) claim you shouldn’t state your hook [in your query letter], for fear of someone stealing it.” Epstein also writes of sending a query letter that it’s “a step you may not want to take just yet if you’re anxious that people will steal your idea.” Realistically, how afraid should screenwriters be of having an idea stolen?

Well, if it’s really that high concept, good for you! I think you have to use your noggin at all times. This is a business. Treat it as such. Protect yourself. Copyright your screenplays. Register your treatments and formats with the WGA. Do your due diligence on the people you’re pitching to. But you can’t be so precious with your concept that you never utter a word about it. If you want to sell it, you’re gonna have to breathe it to someone, somewhere, somehow. So much of screenwriting is the execution of the idea. Ten writers could write ten very different screenplays off the same logline. So just be sure to papertrail who you’ve pitched to (who was in the room or on the call, etc.). Part of the value of having a query letter or one sheet might be to follow up with it to time/date stamp and establish your provenance with that material with that identifiable lead.

What are the five most common mistakes screenwriters make when trying to sell a script?

You keep sneaking in five questions in one!

Pitching to people who aren’t buyers.
Pitching to buyers who don’t do that kind of material (i.e., pitching a slasher film to a Disney exec, or an epic period romance to Adult Swim).
Pitching material to buyers that the buyers already own (i.e., pitching your great take on their graphic novel franchise, then being pissed when they steal that idea!).
Pitching a script you either don’t own the underlying rights to (based on a novel or life rights you haven’t optioned) or with a co-writer you can’t get along with—leaving a messy deal that can never get made.
Holding out for an unrealistic figure or terms (i.e., a rookie writer demanding a million dollars for an indie, or final script approval on a studio project—both unlikely).

Are screenwriter contracts concrete as received, or is there ever room for negotiation?

There’s always room for negotiation! Everything is subject to negotiation!

The first contract you get will be the worst deal you’ll ever be offered. It’ll be boilerplate. Now, they may not budge from that if you’re a first-time writer, because they think they don’t have to (and maybe they don’t). But he who writes the contract controls the deal. He who utters the first figure loses. If you reveal the cards you’re holding prematurely, you might set the bar lower than they’d’ve even dared.

Take a look at the WGA minimums, do your best to figure out where your project might end up (which budget range, what distribution platform), and ask to be treated as if you were in the WGA and have them honor those minimums and terms. That’s a pretty good baseline across the board for the industry and not an unreasonable or uncommon position to take. You might not be able to pull it off on a micro-budgeted film, but it’s a good gauge. Maybe you can negotiate a percentage of the film’s budget and the balance deferred or with box office bumps—but best to get as much up front as possible, as Hollywood’s bookkeeping is notoriously squirrely.

Authors are often told to get out on social media to help sell their books. What kind of self-promotion, if any, is expected of screenwriters?

The answer to all things Hollywood: it depends. It’s always helpful to have a following—fans and champions who want to see you succeed. If you win a contest or a festival award, definitely share it. Having a professional shingle (website) is good. Let us get a sense of who you are. But if you write brilliantly and have no intention of directing or independently producing, there’s less need for you to bang a social media drum. Writers can often be introverts, but there are so many outlets now—Facebook, Twitter, Stage 32, Slated, IMDb, etc.—having some sort of presence is just another tool in your arsenal. And you don’t even have to use photos of you, and your writing skills can help you shine.

If you’re a subject matter expert (on law or medical issues or something unique—parkour, storyboarding, etc.) why not use that to raise your profile so they can find you for those assignments?

Thank you, Heather.

3 Ways You’re Sabotaging Your Chances with an Agent

by abbyladybug | via Flickr

In today’s guest post, editor and writing coach Rebecca Faith Heyman (@rfaitheditorial) discusses three ways you might be sabotaging your prospects with an agent (and how to improve your chances).

In my years as a freelance editor, I’ve learned that writers like to tell themselves stories about why they can’t sign with an agent. “My book is just too literary” and “There’s an industry bias against bloggers” are two of my favorite excuses. But here’s the truth:

The number-one reason an author can’t sign with an agent is because the book is bad.

“But bad books get published all the time!” you tell me, thumping your copy of Life and Death: Twilight Reimagined. It’s true that bad books get published. But if you’re a new author hoping to sign with an agent, you shouldn’t hang your hat on the infinitesimal probability that your manuscript will inspire an entire generation of teens and their mothers to idolize the undead, and thus excuse you from adhering to the rules of good-quality writing.

The happy news is, if it’s true that authors don’t get signed because their books are bad, then the opposite must also be true: the number-one reason authors sign with agents is because their books are well-written and thoughtful. Obviously this is the sage, clarifying wisdom you’ve been waiting for.

Even authors who know how polished and dynamic their work has to be in order to get an agent’s attention don’t realize the subtle ways they’re sabotaging their own success. Here, I’m sharing three pitfalls that can keep you from reaching your full potential as an author—and by extension, might be keeping you from signing with an agent.

1. Too Much Input, Not Enough Output

Smart authors know that getting feedback on their work is the key to growth and revision. But authors sometimes get stuck in a kind of analysis paralysis, trapped in a cycle of soliciting feedback, revising, soliciting more feedback, revising again, getting another beta read, removing the prologue and bumping the scene with all the explosions to chapter 1, and on and on. The result is frequently disastrous.

An example: I’m presently working with an author whose book has been in development for something like five years, during which time various drafts have been analyzed by members of her writing group. My very smart, talented client has taken a lot of the feedback from this group to heart, despite the fact that not a single person in the group has ever published a book or worked in a professional editorial capacity. A huge part of our work together is now focused on excavating this author’s organic, authentic writing voice, which has been almost totally squelched by an abundance of noisome feedback. She’s lost sight of her instincts, which are actually quite good but have been buried under years of critical rubble.

I commend the bravery of authors open to critique, but giving feedback is an art form almost as nuanced as writing itself. “Authors need smart feedback from sources that know how to evaluate a manuscript objectively,” says Carrie Howland of Donadio & Olson. Constructive, thoughtful critique considers how successfully a manuscript executes itself. Is the plot of a thriller tense and exciting? Do the hero and heroine in a kiss-or-kill romance feel equal parts attracted to and repelled from each other? Does a literary novel engage with language in new, interesting and authentic ways?

When you receive a critique built around the phrases “I liked”/ “I didn’t like,” you’re actually gathering more information about your reader than your draft. What I respond to in a manuscript isn’t significant unless I can articulate why. Does my aversion to a character stem from his reliance on hackneyed tropes? Do my questions about the book’s conclusion come from a lack of world-building consistency? A valuable critical eye sees beyond what doesn’t work to why it doesn’t work, and hopefully further still—to how you can fix it.

Critique is a game of quality, not quantity. Reduce the number of voices vying for space in your head, and listen carefully to those that bring the most value to your work.

2. Contests vs. Content

Twitter is an incredible resource for writers. Last week I participated in my first #1linewed, since I’m doing NaNoWriMo this year, and I was immensely touched by the support, talent and enthusiasm infusing the Twitter author community. That said, there is a double-edged sword in the Twitterverse: pitch contests.

On the one hand, pitch contests are awesome. They encourage authors to practice thinking about where their books fit in the marketplace, give them a chance to bypass the dastardly query letter (for a short while), and help clarify story issues like characterization, plot, and conflict.  On the agent side, Twitter pitch contests are a nice way to window-shop the slush pile and engage with new talent. There are a lot of success stories coming out of Twitter pitch contests, and I wholeheartedly support them.

My bone to pick is with you, Serial Twitter Pitch Contest Entrant. Whenever I peruse contest hashtags, I frequently encounter the same handles again and again, the same pitches, the same writers. I often wonder when, exactly, these authors are shutting down their social media long enough to, y’know, work on their novels. Because while it’s great to understand how to pitch your novel in 140 characters or 35 words or 17 emojis, at the end of the day you have to send bona fide pages to an agent. Have you spent more time on your pitch than on your protagonist’s internal conflict resolution? Are you all pith (not a typo) and no plot?

Twitter pitch contests offer an amazing opportunity, but to make good on a great pitch, you need to have written a great book. Get honest about the state of your manuscript. Are you really ready to pitch? If you’re not, or if you’ve tried several times and have been unsuccessful, it’s time to take a step back and reevaluate. And don’t worry—there will always be another contest to enter when you and your manuscript are ready.

3. Where We’ve Been, Where You’re Going

Advice-mongers are always telling authors to read more, because that is the single best piece of advice anyone has ever given an author, other than “Write more.” But how can reading help you sign with an agent?

“Writing is a conversation,” agent Noah Ballard of Curtis Brown told me. “If you aren’t reading books that are being published now, how do you expect to be relevant?”

Familiarizing yourself with current and canon successes in your genre will help you think critically about your own writing. Who are you similar to stylistically? How are you bringing a fresh idea to a popular theme? A well-versed author can add meaningfully to conversations about how to pitch a manuscript to editors.

But being well-read is important for reasons outside of marketing too; reading widely refines and challenges your literary palate, and brings depth and thoughtfulness to your writing. You can’t write a convincing antihero if you haven’t read Wuthering Heights and Moby Dick.  You can’t—or shouldn’t—write a revenge story without first savoring The Count of Monte Cristo. Writing a space opera? I want to know that you’ve read Asimov, Orson Scott Card, Douglas Adams, Emily St. John Mandel, and the most recent stunner from Michel Faber. Bow to the masters, acknowledge your peers, and blaze a trail for yourself armed with the knowledge of what has come before. The history of the written word has always revealed its future.

There’s no denying that signing with an agent is a challenge, even when a book is fantastic. Plenty of wonderful authors and their books don’t find representation quickly, or at all—though my experience suggests that difficult-to-agent books often have significant problems in execution, craft, or concept. You can help yourself by being extremely selective about soliciting critique, finding balance between putting yourself out there and taking time to develop your craft, and reading as many wonderful books as you possibly can. Keep writing, and keep reaching for the kind of greatness on the page no agent will be able to resist.

Note from Jane: Rebecca is the founder of The Work Conference, an inaugural boutique writers’ conference scheduled for March 2016 in New York City. Attendance is extremely limited, but unagented authors of adult or YA fiction with a literary or upmarket feel in any genre are encouraged to apply by the Dec. 31, 2015 deadline. Readers of this blog receive a discounted application.