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Picking a Point of View for Your Story

Photo by Kabir Sharma

Today’s post is by editor Tiffany Yates Martin (@FoxPrintEd). Join her on Wednesday, March 22, for the online class Master POV.

Choosing the most effective perspective from which to tell your story is a combination of both the technical and the creative. It’s useful to consider the benefits and limitations of each POV, the feel that each POV might lend, and how well it fits the tone and tenor of your story— as well as its genre. Let’s look the most common POVs today and what each offers you.

Third-person omniscient POV

In clarifying the conventions of each point of view, I find it useful to imagine the author’s perspective as that of a fly.

In third-person omniscient, the fly is untethered, able to flit anywhere in time and space, privy to all knowledge and information that ever existed in the world, and even able to eavesdrop on characters’ thoughts. The fly is all-seeing and knows things the characters may not.

This gives the author enormous leeway in presenting information. Nothing is off-limits, including how every character in the room thinks and feels. But only from an external point of view. The omniscient fly is still separate from the characters. It may be a witness to what’s going on inside of them, but only as if overhearing it, not experiencing it firsthand.

Omniscient can be a difficult POV to work with because it can feel formal or distant or dry. It’s more common in certain genres than others—like fantasy, science fiction, and literary novels—and can work well if handled skillfully to offer readers almost a panoramic view of the world of the story and its characters.

But it is also one of the easiest points of view to go careening off the rails if misused, resulting in head-hopping that may leave readers feeling disoriented or confused.

Third-person limited POV

With third-person limited, the fly is on a leash attached to a single POV character. The fly can report on anything within its purview, including things the character may or may not notice, like someone sneaking up behind her.

It’s also privy to the character’s thoughts and feelings and reactions in the same way that omniscient POV is, as if eavesdropping on what’s going on inside a character, but it’s still a separate entity and not directly enmeshed with the character’s firsthand thoughts or feelings.

This limits what you as the author are able to report on, so to speak, but it also offers a somewhat more intimate perspective than omniscient in that it sticks with the perspective of a single character at a time (per scene or separate section).

This is also a very common voice in the current market. This point of view is easily adaptable to various genres and tones, from highbrow literary to more accessible popular fiction.

“Deep” third-person limited POV and first-person POV

Even more popular lately, it seems, is a version of third-person point of view often called deep or close third-person. This follows all the conventions of regular third-person limited, with the addition that the fly actually is, for all intents and purposes, the character. They are as one. The fly thinks the character’s thoughts, feels his feelings, reacts directly as if it were the character. The fly—meaning you as the author—is essentially a window into the character’s soul.

In this regard it’s very similar to first-person point of view: Basically there is no fly. As in deep third, the fly lives inside the character’s heart and head and behind her eyes (also, ew, sorry for the visual). And every single thing the character experiences, feels, knows, etc., is filtered through the fly.

First-person is increasingly popular, especially in genre fiction, but it also has a fine strong legacy even in literary fiction—authors ranging from Dickens to Fitzgerald and Hemingway, Kazuo Ishiguro and Margaret Atwood, E. L. James and Stephanie Meyer have written novels in first-person POV.

It is the most intimate of all voices, having a confidential, come-sit-next-to-me feel that brings the reader directly into the world of the characters and story. It can allow for the deepest direct view into a character’s perspective, and carries a sense of informality.

First-person (and deep third) still allows the author to withhold information for “reveals” and suspense, or make ambiguous certain information that can call the character’s authority and translucency into question, as with the “unreliable narrator” device. Just because we’re directly privy to the character’s inner life doesn’t necessarily mean we’re allowed into every shadowed corner.

This point of view can be limiting, though, as with deep third and limited third, because the author is able to report only on the point-of-view character’s direct purview. And it can slip into a common trap of “reporting”—as if the character is retelling a story from a remove, rather than as if readers are living it with them directly.

Choosing POV: the intangibles

Deciding which point of view you want to use is also a factor of personal preference and comfort level. Many authors have a natural voice that they often write in that feels most organic to them, and most if not all their stories will adopt that point of view. Many also change it up from story to story depending on their intentions for it, and the desired “feel” and tone.

If you aren’t sure which point of view feels right to you or a particular story, I often suggest a simple exercise: Take a pivotal scene or two and try writing it from several different points of view—not necessarily different characters, but different voices: omniscient, limited third, etc.

Often one will immediately feel like the right choice to you, or will allow you to bring the story most fully and impactfully to life in the way you imagined.

If you’ve already chosen a POV and are rewriting a scene in a different point of view as an exercise, you may find a different POV feels more comfortable or lends itself better to the story’s tone and feel, or opens up a perspective that adds depth or impact to the story.

Or you may confirm that your original choice was the best one.

The main thing to remember? There is no right choice or most correct point of view. Like everything in writing, it’s subjective.

Note from Jane: If you enjoyed this post, join us on Wednesday, March 22 for the online class Master POV.

How to Write a Hybrid Memoir

Today’s post is by author Adriana Barton (@AdrianaBarton).

I didn’t plan on writing a science memoir.

My first outline of Wired for Music (published in October 2022) focused on the neurology, anthropology and health benefits of music. In my mind, these elements held more than enough fascination to carry a book. But before my agent inked the deal, my publisher had one major request: “Can you put more of yourself in the book?”

“Sure,” I said, envisioning extra scenes from my childhood music lessons sprinkled in the first chapter or two. I sent a revised outline … and got the same feedback. “More of you.”

Readers of early drafts echoed the publisher’s words: “Your stories are so compelling. Can you add more of them?”

This more-of-you refrain was the last thing I wanted to hear.

As a science journalist, I was mainly interested in the geeky side of music—its effects on our brainwaves, neurochemicals, mental and physical health. I didn’t want to write about my sad-sack story as a failed cellist who no longer played the instrument I had studied for 17 years. Decades had passed since those painful days, and I had no desire to relive them.

Yet my tormented story with music was the one people wanted most. The injuries, the self-doubt. The high points, including a performance at Carnegie Hall, and the rigid training that had turned me away from classical music for good.

Maybe mining the past, I told myself, was the best way to draw readers to a book in the increasingly saturated music-on-the-brain vein.

Even as I assured my publisher I was up to the task, inwardly, I balked. Wired for Music would be my first attempt to write anything longer than a 4,000-word magazine feature. How was I supposed to graft a memoir onto chapters of popular science?

I found little in the way of useful instruction online, and no one I asked could offer a clear roadmap. Months, nay years, of frustration lay ahead.

And so, I offer my trial-and-error tale in hopes it will shorten the learning curve for other hybrid memoirists (reluctant or not).

To be clear, there is still an appetite for straight-up science books. Recent bestsellers include An Immense World, The Song of the Cell, Stolen Focus, The Insect Crisis. The list goes on.

More and more, though, we’re seeing hybrid memoirs such as Lab Girl (botany blended with the author’s coming-of-age as a scientist), The Invisible Kingdom (a fusion of memoir and reportage on chronic illness), The Soul of an Octopus (in which a naturalist ponders the nature of consciousness through communion with cephalopods) and the recent Heartbreak (a divorced journalist’s science-based exploration of heartache and grief).

All are great books, and in many cases, the personal angle might have been the author’s choice.

But nonfiction authors are under increasing pressure to permeate their books with their own experiences and emotions. Publishers seem convinced it’s not enough to distill research into well-written prose. Readers want an intimate story, too.

Like it or not, publishers may be right.

As the author-anthropologist Barbara J. King admitted on NPR, “I write science, but I read memoir.” Combining the two can turbo-charge the message, she wrote: “What may strike a reader as somewhat abstract in science writing may become more real when encountered in a searing narrative of a person’s own highly specific experience.”

Much as we are wired for music, humans are wired for story. (This wiring helps explain why even highly intelligent people get sucked in by conspiracy theories.) As conduits for informing, convincing and entertaining us, stories trump facts every time.

Unfortunately for authors, the hybrid memoir is tough to pull off. In my case, the structural demands of blending science with memoir became the defining challenge of my book—one I did not overcome until the final edit.

From the start, I knew my personal story didn’t have enough drama to sustain a narrative arc. I was never a child prodigy, nor did I quit classical music only to later catapult to fame as a rockstar. So, I decided a progression of science topics should be the backbone of the book.

I modeled my new outline after Abraham Maslow’s “hierarchy of needs.” Maslow (likely inspired by Blackfoot teachings) proposed that psychological growth depended on fulfilling a series of needs, starting with the necessities of survival and culminating in self-actualization. Using this framework, I started with a chapter on the evolutionary roots of music and ended with one on music’s role in the universal search for meaning.

So far, so good. But where did my story fit in?

I kept hoping to find the perfect hybrid structure and then fill in the blanks. But creative writing doesn’t work that way. A control-freak approach to structure can drain writing of its spark, leaving it as lifeless as the dully competent books churned out by ChatGPT. On the flip side, too little attention to structure makes for a hot mess.

During my second year of full-time work on the book, I followed an author friend’s advice: “Write first thing in the morning, stream of consciousness, and see what kinds of connections your mind comes up with.”

I gave myself several months to sink in to old memories, even when it felt like wallowing. At one point, I spent two weeks reading old news reports and weeping about a tragic loss, jotting down words for a passage that ended up occupying just two pages of my book. I didn’t always enjoy the process (I was already past deadline and needed to get cracking) but this suspended-animation phase was a crucial step in allowing my book to find its rhythm.

In between bursts of writing, I spoke with authors who had tackled the hybrid genre. Inevitably, they warned, some readers will complain about too much science while others will grouse about too much memoir. “You will never please everyone.”

But I could try to please myself.

For more than a year, I read hybrid memoirs including Nerve: Adventures in the Science of Fear; Hello I Want to Die Please Fix Me: Depression in the First Person; First, We Make the Beast Beautiful: A New Journey Through Anxiety; and Feasting Wild: In Search of the Last Tamed Food. 

I noticed three things about hybrid memoirs that I liked most:

The memoir elements were tightly integrated with the science passages, without dragging the reader through superfluous details and unrelated periods in the author’s life.While the book’s main topic (science, mental health, etc.) took center stage, the informational passages never droned on for more than four or five pages without a story break.Even if the memoir element was subservient to the science, the author experienced some kind of epiphany or personal transformation by the end.

In contrast, many of the less successful books did a bait-and-switch, hooking the reader with a compelling personal story at the start of the book and then hammering them with chapter after chapter of non-stop science.

With these points in mind, I began to plot my memoir passages in a loose progression, independent of the science sections. Then, using the index-card feature in Scrivener, I looked at the different ways the science and memoir passages could intersect. This process was often maddening, since the same anecdote could dovetail with any number of science concepts, depending on how the anecdote was framed. Gradually, though, the weighting of science and story became more balanced. Or so I thought.

When I delivered my manuscript (after two years of full-time writing and many more of research), none of the passages was boring or long-winded. My book was well on its way to publication, right?

Not quite.

My editor wrote back describing my narrative as choppy and emotionally unsatisfying. I’d welded the science passages together with personal stories without paying enough attention to chronology. The timeline was confusing, my editor said, and major scenes lacked the scaffolding needed to reach emotional heights.

Back to the drawing board—this time under intense stress. I had eight weeks to overhaul the manuscript.

Fortunately, my editor offered a structural solution: start and end each chapter with a personal passage, giving readers a touchstone to orient themselves in my story. I could still zip back and forth in time within each chapter, my editor said, but at least one thread of the book needed to be chronological.

At first, I resisted this plan. How could I summon meaningful anecdotes to illustrate the science concepts while ensuring these memories were in the right timeline for each chapter? This dilemma reminded me of the structural challenges Rebecca Skloot detailed about her bestselling book The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. After years of tearing her hair out, she too decided that one of the narrative threads had to be chronological.

At the same time, my book needed a more emotionally satisfying conclusion. I reread notes from a webinar on memoir structure taught by Allison K Williams via Jane Friedman’s website (worth every penny). Williams emphasized that a memoir needs to build towards a personal transformation or resolution. If you don’t have a resolution to the fundamental problem or pain point presented at the start of the book, she said, you need to figure it out (or live the experiences you need to figure it out) before the writing is complete. Hybrid memoirs were no exception.

Brainstorming, I tried mapping my experiences onto the archetypical hero’s journey plot found in movies ranging from Star Wars to The Wizard of Oz. (Time was tight, so why try to reinvent the wheel?)

In this age-old story template, the “hero” (or average person like me) faces an untenable situation (in my case, an unresolved relationship to music). After a period of struggle, the hero learns a lesson, wins a victory with that knowledge and then returns to the starting point, transformed.

While my book is mostly chronological, Wired for Music starts in medias res, with me in my thirties haunted by the cello hiding in a battered case behind the couch. My hero’s journey involves a burning need to confront the forces that severed my relationship to music, understand where music comes from in our species, along with its therapeutic effects, and then grapple with my inner barriers to creating a healthier relationship with music—and myself.

After frantic weeks of rearranging chunks of narrative and writing new passages to bookend each chapter, I managed to meet my deadline. This time, my editor gave Wired for Music the green light.

Months later, the blend of science and memoir became my book’s calling card. “Thoroughly researched and tenderly written,” wrote The Globe and Mail. “Witty and soulful,” Publishers Weekly declared. Wired for Music has been featured in The Boston Globe, a BBC science podcast, CTV’s daytime talk show “The Social” and many other media outlets.

I would never recommend writing a hybrid memoir as a first book. But now that the heavy lifting is done, I can confirm that bridging the gap between research and personal experience can become a book’s greatest strength—as long as the author is prepared for a Herculean endeavor.

Amazon • Bookshop

P.S. I highly recommend the following resources:

Jane Friedman’s site and classes (naturally! I’ve signed up for webinars on marketing, writing, self-editing, etc)Pandemic University (a “pop-up” writing school; I learned a lot from a webinar on the role of tension in writing by Ayelet Tsabari) Meander, Spiral, Explode: Design and Pattern in Narrative  (a liberating argument against sticking to predictable story progressions) The Situation and the Story: The Art of Personal Narrative  (in which Vivian Gornick explains the difference between a chronicle of personal facts and an insightful narrative with a strong angle and voice)Book coaches (I worked with the lovely and astute writer-editor Marial Shea)

Wattpad for Authors: It’s Not Just for the Young Folks

For years now, I’ve been following the fortunes of Wattpad, an online reading and writing community that has roughly 90 million users; about 90 percent of its audience is Gen Z or Millennial. Most stories on Wattpad are free to read and written in-progress, installment by installment, for an eager audience. Unlike some other corners of the Internet, it is largely seen as an encouraging and optimistic place for its creators/contributors, who are compelled to keep writing their stories partly due to reader support.

However, when I mention Wattpad to a roomful of writers of a certain age, it is often dismissed or overlooked because of its association with younger readers and writers. I think that’s a shame. So I asked the folks at Wattpad if they’d be willing to point me to some of their successful writers who are outside of that key demographic, so I could ask them why they contribute to Wattpad and how it’s worked out for them.

These are the writers they brought forward to answer my questions.

Rebecca Phelps originally started her career in LA as an actress and screenwriter. Rebecca’s debut YA book, Down World, is the recipient of a Watty Award for Best Young Adult Novel in 2019 and has been published by Wattpad Books.Sondi Warner got her start as a songwriter—Beyoncé once requested she write a hook for one of her songs! On Wattpad, Sondi writes stories about LGBTQ+ polyamorous romance. Her hit novel Lead Me Astray has been published by Wattpad WEBTOON Book Group.Tamara Lush is a Rita Award finalist and former Associated Press journalist who started writing fiction at the age of 43. Her hit stories Drive and Crash have been published by Wattpad Books and received more than 4.5 million views on Wattpad.

Jane Friedman: When I speak with writers who didn’t grow up with platforms like Wattpad—which includes myself!—sometimes they believe they’re simply “too old” to do well there. Maybe they don’t feel very tech capable, or they think it’s just for teenagers, or they wonder why they’d post their work for free (some worry about theft). But you decided to jump onboard. Did you “get” Wattpad right away and have lots of comfort with it?

Rebecca: I definitely found the site daunting at first, and for all the reasons you’ve mentioned. When I first started on Wattpad, I didn’t realize that the goal was to post chapters serially in order to gain a readership, so I just uploaded the whole book at once. (I also didn’t realize short chapters = more “reads,” which would have been good to know!)

I took the leap anyway because I knew it was the most direct way to get my book in front of teen readers. I made a simple cover for Down World on Canva, put the book up, and waited…because I honestly didn’t know what I was supposed to do next! Luckily, the editors at Wattpad discovered my book, which led to a Watty Award and, eventually, a three-book publishing deal. After years of trying to break in traditionally, it turned out that taking a chance on something new was the best decision I could have made.

Sondi: As someone pushing forty, I can relate to feeling insecure about being older, putting myself out there amongst a very bright cohort of Gen-Z writers. Sometimes women, femmes, and nonbinary people experience a reduced fit within society as they age because they’re judged as being past their prime. Society seems to have a more positive impression of maturity and the increased social capital that comes with age for masculine-presenting individuals.

I think this might be the generation to change that, however. Gen-Z is notoriously difficult to corral into neat social constructs like class distinction, race norms, or gender. They invariably gravitate toward what they like, regardless of the status quo. That wasn’t the case before the internet became ubiquitous. What drove popular trends in literature, music, and fashion for Millennials and Gen X were celebrities and the limited cultural offerings on cable television.

Today there is a smorgasbord of niche interests churned up by really shrewd social media algorithms that allow people of all ages to enjoy things that are unique to them. This is irrespective of whether they think the creator is cool or hip or en vogue. So, even if you’re a writer who believes Wattpad is just for teenagers, this is a generation with a complex, uninhibited cultural palate, and they may be the readers for you.

As for me, when I hopped onto Wattpad, it was at the urging of my then 14-year-old daughter. I didn’t worry about not being tech savvy enough. I quickly saw that the platform is easy to use, inclusive, community-based, and full of diverse readers and writers who motivate each other. I didn’t worry about being plagiarized because Wattpad has security features to help writers feel safe and confident that their work won’t be stolen for profit. Not only did I get comfortable with the platform right away, but taking that leap of faith to put a story out for free rewarded me with a global readership.

Tamara: I did! I started experimenting with the Wattpad platform early in my fiction writing journey, but got serious about it a few years later! Wattpad is actually far easier to use than most publishing platforms, or social media networks. It’s very intuitive, and quite simple to use. I was comfortable from the beginning, even though I am much older than many of the readers. It’s easy to have a dialogue with readers on the platform, and I enjoy that the most.

What do you think writers, especially those who you would consider your peers, get wrong or misunderstand about Wattpad?

Rebecca: I think a lot of people think it’s just for amateurs. Sure, there’s a lot of that, but there are also a lot of really quality books on the site, written by people who have been working at their craft for years.

Wattpad is a great resource to workshop new ideas; to write the rough draft of a book and iron out the kinks before diving into draft two. I think the key is to shift your thinking from “I’m giving my book away for free” to “I’m getting invaluable feedback directly from my target audience, and I don’t even have to pay for it!”

Sondi: Misunderstandings I’ve encountered center around a lack of awareness that the site is free to use and gives you the chance to share your story with the world. Some writers rush to the platform, expecting instant fame and recognition, but they’re missing what I think is the best-kept-secret perk of joining a community like Wattpad: reader feedback.

We can get so trapped in the old model of the writing circle that we overlook tools like Wattpad as the roundtable we’ve always wanted. Early in my career, when considering indie publishing, I sought a book coach to give me pointers on my first draft. I had no luck finding one within my budget. As soon as I got on Wattpad, I started reaching out to community critique readers, official Wattpad reading lists, and my friends and family to put Lead Me Astray in front of lots of other eyes and ask for as much feedback as possible.

Doing so allowed me to get instant critiques each time I updated a chapter, like having beta readers on standby. I was able to incorporate that feedback into my final draft to give my readers exactly the story they wanted, which shows the incredible give-and-take relationship of our community.

Developing a relationship with your readers is the cheat code to building a readership, whether you’re traditionally published, indie published, or using a story-sharing platform. In my honest opinion, nobody facilitates that relationship better than Wattpad and Webtoon. Writers who share remarkable stories, edit and polish those stories, promote them, engage with their readership, and apply that driving ambition to standing out will see the best results.

Tamara: Some believe Wattpad is for fan fiction only, and many are surprised when I say that I write original fiction on Wattpad, and that I’ve never read fan fiction. It’s a place where people can be as creative as they want, with their own fiction. The breadth of stories on Wattpad is quite impressive. I don’t believe there is a place with more diversity in publishing, or in readership. I have readers from literally every corner of the globe, and that’s so gratifying to me.

I’m also surprised when people in publishing haven’t heard of Wattpad. Older people need to understand what the younger generations are reading, and where they’re reading—and that place is Wattpad.

How has Wattpad changed how or what you write, if at all?

Rebecca: Well, in the most literal sense, I wouldn’t have written the two sequels to Down World if I hadn’t gotten the publishing deal on book one. And I’m grateful I did, because now the whole trilogy is being published!

But the biggest thing I’ve learned in terms of craft is that what really drives readers to be invested in a book is the interpersonal relationships of the characters. It’s not that they don’t care about the plot—they absolutely do!—but most of the comments are always about the love stories, the family dynamics, and the characters’ motivations. For me, writing YA sci-fi, where the plots can get pretty complex, was an important reminder to never neglect the characters’ emotional stakes.

Sondi: My writing has evolved by leaps and bounds here. I think it’s because I shifted gears from seeing writing as a job to having a blast with it. Wattpad is my sandbox. I trial-and-error my wildest ideas and anchor my flights of fancy with the technical expertise I developed as a ghostwriter and freelancer for over a decade.

The other day while working on the sequel to Lead Me Astray, I noticed the ease of my drafting and the richness of the descriptions, the intricate dance of well-timed plot points, even the particular language I used. It stopped me in my tracks. I thought to myself, “Wait a second, I think I’ve developed my voice!”

How did that happen? I’ve been reading The Spark and the Grind, and bestselling author Erik Wahl believes that when creativity marries the grind, or the effort it takes to manifest an idea into reality, magic happens.

During my stint as a ghostwriter, it was important to stick to the rules and conventions in order to stay hired. That was the grind. Yet, I suppressed a revolutionary streak. Switching to writing on Wattpad taught me how to marry the two sides. To unite the fun and freedom of wild ideas—my own revolutionary brand of creativity—and the cliché formulas and techniques of writing romance.

Wattpad lets me showcase this relationship between my skillful mechanics of writing, my vivid creative spark, and my instinctive grind in the name of art, which essentially helped unlock my voice. I’m profoundly interested in learning more about myself and my writing simply by being a part of this visionary story-sharing platform. I would be unsurprised if future historians point to the advent of Wattpad as a groundbreaking move in the right direction for diversity in literature.

Tamara: It’s really taught me how to write books that make people keep turning the pages. Learning to write an excellent serial fiction novel has helped my work in general. When I write my traditional cozy mysteries for an older audience, I use cliffhangers and end some chapters in the middle of the action. It’s inspired me to take risks. It’s also taught me that readers, and reader feedback, isn’t a scary thing. I’ve grown to love comments from readers on Wattpad, and wish I had that for my traditionally published books. I adore the immediacy of releasing a chapter and getting near instantaneous feedback.

One thing that’s certain in both life and publishing is that things change—frequently. So aside from writing and publishing on Wattpad, what has helped you consistently advance your career or protect it from the ups and downs of the overall market?

Rebecca: For writers, there’s no getting around the fact that most of the business end of our job is completely out of our control. Even now, my agent is out to editors with my first adult contemporary book, but my previous success is no guarantee that it will sell. That’s a hard pill to swallow, but it’s true for everyone, even people who have sold a dozen books.

I wrote screenplays for years before attempting a novel, and I watched as script after script did well in a contest, or even got optioned, and then died on the vine. When I posted Down World on Wattpad, I honestly was just hoping that the book would find a few readers, and maybe it would help some young people dealing with grief. After years of struggling as a writer, I wasn’t expecting any more than that. And then life surprised me.

All we can do is write. We write the best books we can. We learn from our mistakes, and we try again. That’s true for life, and it’s true for art. And I don’t know how to do anything else.

Sondi: To be a brilliant writer is to be like water. Life is a wave, which is why we talk about the “ups and downs,” but it oscillates more like a sine wave than an ocean wave. There are intervals of a scaling upwards of the amount of work available, the margin of profit that can be made, and the opportunities given for whatever demographic of author is in-demand, but once critical mass is reached, what seems like an unexpected crash and sudden loss of gains can usually be traced back to tiny signs of a tipping point revealed along the way.

Understanding cycles helps me prepare for these rolling changes, and I don’t mean by predicting booms and busts, but by anticipating that they will come.

It helped me make sense, when there was a dearth of creative writing opportunities and the terrain of the publishing industry seemed frozen to me, that it wasn’t personal. I lost my biggest ghostwriting client in what felt like one fell blow and had to pause writing for a living, but I learned to channel my energy during that time into resting and exploring new ideas.

Industries always heat up. By not getting discouraged, by playing around with a radical new story just for fun, I didn’t lose my edge as an author, which put me in position for when the atmosphere changed. Now I can hardly keep up with the work gathering in my career sector, and it’s a thrilling challenge. I can’t even tell you all the amazing ways I’m slated to share my creative spirit with you this year, and fresh opportunities are on the horizon.

I know from experience that there will come a time when all these blessings rain themselves out, returning me to that quiet period, that resting and exploring period. However, it won’t be the great fall from glory that many people imagine it to be when they don’t understand cycles. It’s in keeping with the laws of the universe that what goes up must come down. How else do you dream up something new without the calling to rest?

Of course, some of us don’t realize that we can either stop and take a break or let nature take its course. I used to be one of those people. I had to be placed on the sidelines by life events in order to remember that I’m only human. As a result, how I’ve advanced my career while grappling with the ups and downs of the market is by learning to recognize what angle of the arc of the cycle I’m in at a given moment and by letting myself go with the flow.

Tamara: Don’t take anything personally. This is the media—things are always changing. (I worked for 30 years as a reporter, including for The Associated Press.) If a publisher passes on a book, if a reviewer doesn’t like my book, if someone makes a less-than-stellar TikTok video about my book, it doesn’t bother me. It’s not an indictment of me as a human being. It’s someone’s opinion, which they’re entitled to. Not everyone will like my work, and that’s okay! In the words of the late, great Jerry Garcia, “We’re like licorice. Not everybody likes licorice, but the people who like licorice really like licorice.”

How to Survive Editing

Today’s post is by writer and writing coach Daphne Gray-Grant (@pubcoach).

When I opened the just-edited manuscript of my first book, some 12 years ago, I gasped.

My editor had covered it in so many red marks, it looked as though she might have accidentally stabbed herself with an X-Acto knife.

Worse, I was totally unprepared. I’d spent my entire working life as an editor—first at a community weekly newspaper, then at a large metropolitan daily, then a brief stint as a book editor, finally as a freelance writer and editor. I thought I knew how to edit. Even myself.

Perhaps more persuasively, I’d also had a dozen beta readers—many of them professional writers—comb through the manuscript to critique, question, and eviscerate my words. My manuscript was definitely in the best possible shape it could have been.

How was it possible that this editor found so many fresh problems? Did she really know what she was doing?

Turns out, of course, that she did. As soon as I’d calmed down and gone through her comments, one by one, I could see they made sense. And, besides, I knew her to be not just a superb editor, but a wise and well-informed person.

But having a strong, gut-punch reaction to being edited is part of the cost of doing business when writing. You’ve poured your heart into your words. In fact, you’ve anguished over every damn one of them. It’s hard to hear that your manuscript, your child, has an ugly nose.

If you are going to be facing an editor’s red pen, here is my advice on how to survive the process:

If you can choose your own editor, choose carefully.

Approach the job as if you were hiring a contractor for your much-loved house. Find someone who specializes in your genre. Talk to at least three different editors who might suit. Make sure you actually like them, as well as trust their abilities. Get three references from each and don’t think holding the references in your hands is enough—check them all, thoroughly. Ask questions not just about the quality of these editors’ work but also ask about what they were like to work with. If the editor sounds promising, request a test edit (of about 750 to 1,000 words of text), even if you have to pay for it, so you can see what you think of the editor’s work. If you like it, then agree upon cost and a deadline and sign a contract.

Don’t rush your hiring process or make it slapdash. Take your time and do it right.

Be prepared for a lot of red ink.

Somehow, anticipating lots of red ink—rather than the blissfully color-free pages I had expected—will make the inevitable result easier to bear. And if you find red ink offensive (as many people do), ask your editor to use green, blue or purple for their comments instead. And if they resist, which I would consider a terrible sign, hire someone else.

Take it slow.

Give yourself at least a full day to do nothing more than glance at the volume of comments and steel yourself. There is no need for you to respond to edits at the speed of light. Take your time and get your feelings in the right place first. Do some deep breathing.

Remind yourself the editor is there to help you. Understandably, it’s going to feel as though the editor is doing nothing but criticizing you. But in fact, any editor is really in loco lectorem—Latin for “in the position of a reader.” Consider your editor to be your partner, there to help protect your published work from mistakes and misunderstandings. What can be worse than an editor who points out too many mistakes? Easy! A published work with mistakes.

Do the simple edits first and fast.

If you’ve ever written an SAT, you’ll know that you should answer multiple choice quizzes fast and skip questions you can’t answer easily, returning to them at the end. Regard your manuscript as the biggest SAT in your life. Go through the edits with speed and deal with the ones that won’t cause you to sweat. Misspelled word? Spell it right. Unclear antecedent? Make it clear. Sentence fragment? Add the part of speech that’s missing.

Do the harder, more challenging edits, next.

Always, for every writer—including famous ones like Neil Gaiman and Margaret Atwood—there will be some edits that seem unbearably difficult. You may even agree with the editor’s concern, but you don’t have a clue how to fix the problem. Here is where you need to think—deeply—about what to do. I suggest getting away from your desk to do this because our brains operate better when we’re moving. Take a walk or go for a run (or do some gardening or house-cleaning) and ponder the question. And if that doesn’t give you an answer, then talk about the issue with someone else. Consider chatting with a writing buddy. Or pick up the phone and speak with your editor. The editor is not God. She or he is a human being who probably has some useful thoughts about your conundrum.

Don’t feel you have to accept every edit.

Sometimes, you won’t agree with the editor’s concern and you’ll feel it impinges on what you want to accomplish. If the editor is someone you’ve hired yourself for, say, a self-publishing project, take her or his advice carefully, but know that you have every right to refuse certain pieces of it. (If the editor is with a traditional publishing house, you’ll have a harder time ignoring their advice, but at least have a conversation with them so you can understand why they’ve suggested what they have.)

Bonus tip

If your editor has used “track changes” and if they are someone whose judgment you trust implicitly, consider hitting the “accept all” key, then reading through only the corrected manuscript to ensure all is okay with you. In this manner, the edits won’t traumatize you, but you can still accept the benefit of the editor’s knowledge. Just remember that this maneuver won’t delete their comments, so you will still need to deal with those.

And whatever else you do, remember that your writing project, no matter how important, is rarely a life-and-death endeavor. Be sure to laugh at yourself from time to time. As T.S. Eliot said, “Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers.”

First Pages Critique: How to Better Establish Your Setting

Ask the Editor is a column for your questions about the editing process and editors themselves. It also features first-page critiques. Want to be considered? Submit your question or submit your pages.

This month’s Ask the Editor is sponsored by Book Pipeline. The 2023 Book Pipeline Unpublished contest is awarding $20,000 for unpublished manuscripts across eight categories of fiction and nonfiction: Literary, Romance, Mystery / Thriller, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, YA, Middle Grade, Picture Books, and Nonfiction. Register by March 10th.

A summary of the work being critiqued

A Fine Suddenness is a WWII-era homefront novel that opens with Mary Miller learning that her husband, Dom, has been killed in London. Childless and introverted, she struggles to accept her widowhood while working to support local war efforts, care for her charming, but disintegrating, alcoholic brother, and protect herself from a dangerous admirer. 

Mary wrestles with feelings of abandonment and anger. She eventually finds a path to acceptance and faith, and learns the value of community and forgiveness along the way, but her hard-gained progress is put to the test when the war ends and she learns that her husband fathered a child in London prior to his death. It’s a crushing discovery, amplified because she and Dom lost their only child to pneumonia, and because she is friends with this “other” woman.

First page of A Fine Suddenness

Lake Arrowhead, California

Not every unexpected visitor brings news of a tragedy, but it has been my experience that tragedy, when it comes for us, is often accompanied by a stranger. It could be in the form of a tap on a shoulder, the ringing of a phone, perhaps a knock on a door.

On the day my stranger came, I was taking a cherry pie out of the oven. As usual, my dog, Goblin, sprawled at my feet, something I was so accustomed to that I didn’t think to move him. I routinely walked around him or stepped over him.

As I was about to close the oven door, his ears shot up, followed by his broad head. A Great Dane Labrador mix as tall as my chest, with a muscled body longer than the kitchen counter, he rose, handily knocking the pie out of my hand with violent impact, in the process. Then he took off, his toenails flying for purchase on the bare plank floor.

The pie flew straight up. I watched it spin crookedly at the apex before taking the plunge back down. The glass pan exploded at my feet, rocketing hot shards, glistening red cherries, and gelatinous filling in all directions.     

“Goblin!”                                      

Continue reading the first pages.

Dear Lori,

Thank you for submitting your work to our column. Your pitch caught my eye immediately because of my fondness for the Lake Arrowhead area and my interest in World War II novels. I was also intrigued by the idea of a protagonist who must deal with two devastating personal losses. But what makes your story especially compelling is that Mary learns that her husband fathered a child prior to his death. A crushing discovery indeed! What an ominous sign that she finds her diamond wedding ring covered with drops of blood the very day she receives news of Dom’s passing.

You might be aware that the market is filled with novels about World War II. A quick search for “World War II historical fiction” brings up over a thousand titles on the Barnes & Noble website, and many more on Amazon. Penguin Random House has an entire web page devoted to such books, including the international bestseller The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. Other novels that come to mind are Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See, Kristin Hannah’s The Nightingale, and my personal favorite, Tatiana de Rosnay’s Sarah’s Key. Some acquiring editors might be hesitant to consider yet another novel about the Second World War. However, the best known of these novels are set in Europe rather than in the U.S. To my knowledge, none features the perspective of characters who live in San Bernardino County, and this should help your novel stand out, if not to large corporate publishers, then to independent or regional publishers.

The only issue is that I didn’t quite get a sense of this geographic location in your initial pages, despite the mention of the San Bernardino Army Airfield. You and I are probably both aware that the airfield was later named Norton Air Force Base after army captain Leland Norton. That said, assuming he died before Dom, can Mary be listening to a radio segment about the local hero when the story begins? At the same time, perhaps she can be comforted by the dry heat that’s so common in the Inland Empire, or be relieved that a breeze is coming in from the lake?

The time period of your story also warrants more attention. Right now, it isn’t clear until the end of the excerpt, when Dom is said to be “one of the many victims of the V-1 flying bombs Hitler had rained down on London in reprisal for the Allied invasion at Normandy,” that this is a wartime novel. The line about how Mary has used most of her sugar ration provides a clue, but you might also have her comment on other commonly rationed items in the 1940s to build on this idea. Even better would be to delve into how Mary supports the war effort. This information comes up in your pitch, but not in your pages, and whether Mary does this work at home, at the Red Cross, or perhaps at a factory, it’s likely fascinating.

All this brings up the question of the best way to begin A Fine Suddenness. If not with Mary’s contributions to the war effort, perhaps your novel can open with an introduction to the woman with whom Dom fathered a child? One idea is to have Mary talk on the phone with this woman and notice that she has been unusually supportive (or distant) of late. Maybe the woman can casually mention her child, causing Mary to sink into a deeper depression about losing her own? It’s such a curious twist that Mary is friendly with this person but has no idea of her betrayal! Your opening can certainly still mention Mary’s dog Goblin (who sounds adorable) and the cherry pie he causes her to drop (which is a good way to foreshadow events to come), but I worry that the heavy emphasis on these details, as well as on the impending arrival of Corporal Stone to deliver the tragic news about Dom, positions the novel as a general story about dealing with grief. Of course, this might be precisely the point, and I would encourage you to determine the unique premise of your story before further tinkering with the writing; once the premise is clear to you, it should be easy to integrate it into what is already a polished first chapter.

I hope these ideas are helpful. Thank you again for submitting!

—Sangeeta Mehta

This month’s Ask the Editor is sponsored by Book Pipeline. The 2023 Book Pipeline Unpublished contest is awarding $20,000 for unpublished manuscripts across eight categories of fiction and nonfiction: Literary, Romance, Mystery / Thriller, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, YA, Middle Grade, Picture Books, and Nonfiction. Register by March 10th.

How Bad Publishers Hurt Authors

Photo by Kristopher Roller on Unsplash

Today’s guest post is by Gemma Whelan, author of Painting Through the Dark.

It began with that heart-fluttering feeling of acceptance after so many rejections. My second novel was going to be published!

It was the end of August 2020. The world as we knew it had been upended. We were getting deeper into the pandemic, with fear, illness, death, and uncertainty ravaging the world. When New York City–based Adelaide Books offered me a contract to publish Painting Through the Dark, it set my heart racing in a good way. It was a promise.

The contract looked good: 20% royalties, paperback and ebook, quarterly reports, approval over the design and cover art. The marketing plan also sounded excellent: pre-publishing editorial review, all pre- and post-print marketing tools and services, design and maintenance of author’s website, magazine promotion and interview with author, social and blog posts, book video trailer, book giveaways to bloggers, and consideration for various literary competitions. Plus two free books for the author, and further books could be purchased at a 30% discount.

Then came this sentence: “All we ask of you is to pre-purchase 45 copies of your book (at 30% discount) upon signing the contract as a token of your support for our publishing endeavor.”

That’s when the happy heart flutter turned anxious. Was this legit?

I knew that after publication I’d order at least that many books for private events, but still. I checked the company out. They had been in business for several years and had offices in New York and Lisbon. They listed a large number of titles on their website. They attended the Frankfurt Book Fair every year, in addition to the Lisbon and Brooklyn book festivals. I asked around—friends who were published authors, others with knowledge of independent publishing. In their opinion it wasn’t a red flag. Several said it wasn’t unusual to ask authors to buy a certain number of copies up front. I was thrilled. This was the answer I wanted. I didn’t relish the long, soul-killing process of querying all over again. I squelched any remaining doubts and signed.

After finalizing the contract, communication was sketchy. Weeks would go by between emails. I knew Adelaide was a small company, and I was concerned about the large number of books on their roster. I finally requested a Zoom meeting and was reassured by a pleasurable, hour-long, wide-ranging conversation with the publisher. He clearly loved and believed in books. We talked about what to expect when my book came out—I was definitely coming to New York for the Brooklyn Book Festival, and he told me he would book me at the Strand bookstore and other NYC locations. Distribution was through Ingram. This was all working out.

After that call, the publisher wasn’t responsive to emails, but I convinced myself all was well. The dates for publication were pushed back a few times due to COVID, but I was fine waiting until it might be safe to do in-person readings. I thrive on meeting readers, having conversations, signing books.

After a couple of rounds of editing, Adelaide fell off the radar again. Even when I put URGENT, CONCERNED, PLEASE RESPOND, in the subject line of my emails, I got no response. I tried not to sound desperate, but I was. The publisher never answered the phone or replied to voicemail messages. My book suddenly appeared on Amazon in July 2022. No advance reader copies, no reviews, none of the publicity promised in the contract.

I approached local bookstores in Portland, Oregon, where I live, so I could set up readings. They all told me they couldn’t find my book on Ingram. I was embarrassed. I told them there must be some hold up as my books were definitely on Ingram. I said I’d get back to them after I spoke with my publisher.

I was back on the crazy rollercoaster—hopes raised, then dashed. In the meantime, I got wind of a private Adelaide authors Facebook page. My head thrummed when I saw that I was number 94 to join. I read the stories of all the other disgruntled authors, the voices of people in similar situations, others who had published way earlier and had no ebooks, no sales reports or royalties, or had books published with egregious errors.

I looked back and saw a pattern over the past two years. It was like being in a dysfunctional relationship. After reaching out over and over again, I’d finally get a carrot in the form of an email or call, and I’d be mollified for a while. Then the pattern would repeat. No communication, with my anxiety level rising. And the publisher had over 100 such relationships—authors like me who had spent years working on a manuscript, writing and re-writing, pouring our hearts out, investing our hopes and dreams. Now my hopes and dreams were turning to mulch.

I arrived in New York in early October 2022, with still a glimmer of hope that the books would magically appear for my reading as promised (in a rare email from the publisher). After all, the company was based in New York, the publisher himself lived there. I stood in front of a room full of people and put on the best face I could. I read. I squelched my embarrassment and explained how there was a glitch with the delivery and told them how they could order books online. What should have ended with book selling and signing ended instead with my deep-down certainty that this whole Adelaide venture was a disaster.

When I reached out to Authors Guild, they informed me that their lawyers had been sending letters to Adelaide since June with no response. They said they would add my name to the next letter naming authors seeking reversion of rights. They set up a Zoom meeting for Adelaide orphans and suggested we all file with the New York Better Business Bureau and New York State Attorney General. They requested we send our stories, and they would pitch to Publishers Weekly. I filed complaints with NYBBB and the Attorney General. I received replies saying they had attempted to contact Adelaide but received no response. The NYBBB added, “A firm’s rating may be affected by its failure to answer even one complaint. Your experience may, therefore, alert other inquirers seeking information through the BBB.” Hopefully filing complaints would help someone.

I was now in the awkward situation of having a book published and announced, and my publisher had gone AWOL. The overall consensus from my wonderful local writers community, combined with what I had gleaned from Authors Guild conversations, was that self-publishing was the only option open to me now.

My husband and I set up Shangana Press, named after the 1850’s farmhouse I grew up in in Ireland, with distribution through IngramSpark. I hoped the name would bring some much-needed luck. Several weeks later I had a new book. I’ve had wonderful readings at my local bookstores and am planning Bay Area and East Coast tours. I’m working on promotion and outreach. I’m applying to contests that accept self-published work. I’m reaching out to get reviews from the few publications that will accept a book post-publication.

On Feb 1, 2023, Publishers Weekly published Adelaide Books Promises to Make Things Right With Authors. The New York Better Business Bureau and the New York State Attorney General’s Office could not persuade the publisher to respond, but when the Authors Guild approached him regarding their intent to publish in Publishers Weekly, he came forward. Whether Adelaide ever returns the money, rights, files, or royalties, they can never make up for the hurt, anger, frustration, and lost time. Neither can they make up for the loss of all of the vital pre-publication reviews, advance review copies, contests, or the stigma that still persists in some quarters around self-publishing.

The big takeaway? Trust your gut. Adelaide never presented themselves as a hybrid publisher, but by asking for money upfront, in the form of a book purchase, they were acting like one. They lied about distribution through Ingram and were publishing on-demand through Amazon. The lapses in communication were inexcusable.

Also, if you’re not already a member of Authors Guild–join! The time and effort and professional support they have given us is far, far greater than the annual dues. They really have our backs. It also is a forum where authors can ask advice e.g., about publishers who have offered contracts.

In the Publishers Weekly article, the publisher says he plans to resume business as soon as he has resolved all the issues. I say, authors beware!

My novel, Painting Through the Dark, is the story of Ashling, a young Irish woman who arrives in San Francisco in 1982 with a backpack, a judo outfit, her artist’s portfolio, and a determination to find a way to speak up about the abuses of women in Ireland. She has to figure out how to survive. I like to think Ashling might have tackled the novel publication fiasco with zest, seen it as an obstacle to be overcome, and not let herself be defeated. She would have found a way to put her story out in the world, and to warn others.

To Give It Away or Not to Give It Away

Photo by Don Agnello on Unsplash

Today’s post is by author and editor Kim Catanzarite (@kimcanrite). Her third book, Bright Blue Planet, publishes this month.

Before I get started, it’s only fair to reveal that I am a self-published author who gives her first-in-series away from time to time. They Will Be Coming for Us is not permanently free, but once in a while, I discount it 100 percent and let the free-for-all ensue. After advertising a free day, I see an uptick of sales and Kindle Unlimited reads.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t weigh the pros and cons of both sides of this coin.

Authors against giving it away

I understand why plenty of authors vehemently disagree with the idea of giving their book away. A list of some of their reasons follows:

Doing so cheapens the book. Readers should have to pay for the book because it has value. It’s not good for the author’s brand if they give it away.They worked very hard on their book and spent much time and energy on it.They spent money in the creation of it—quite a bit of money on editing and a cover design and more—and they intend to earn that money back via book sales.They’ve written a stand-alone book. They’re not selling a series, and they don’t have a large backlist.

I think we can all agree that writing and publishing a book requires time, effort, and funds—and many of us are in this business to make money. That is true of any author who hopes to have a lasting author career. I also agree that giving it away is not a viable strategy for those who have published only one book. It may not work for those who publish stand-alones, either.

So, let’s explore what I consider the main issue here: the idea that giving the book away devalues the book.

Is a free book a bad book?

There was a time I assumed the answer was yes. My thinking was, How can a writer be taken seriously if they have to give the book away in order to interest readers?

Several years before the debut of my self-published novel, I wondered whether an ebook was worthy of purchase if it didn’t cost $9.99 or more. Part of this mindset stemmed from the stigma surrounding self-published books. I was merely a shopper, an ordinary reader, and I remember thinking self-published ebooks were inexpensive because they were subpar.

This sort of thinking persists to this day for those who buy only traditionally published books, those who read only bestsellers, and those whose preference is literary fiction. Perhaps some self-published authors who are against giving away their book are of a similar mindset.

To them, I say: Times have changed.

There is now a voracious population of avid readers in the world who want and value free and very low-priced books. And here’s the important thing: a lot of these books satisfy their reading needs just as well as the higher-priced ebooks. These book buyers have learned from experience that many self-published books are, in a word, worthy.

A saturated market

At this point several million books are published every year, and the large majority are self-published. That’s a lot of books readers can choose from. It also adds up to a lot of competition in most genres.

From what I’ve observed, only the well-known, well-publicized and sought-after releases, and some specialty books, are priced at $9.99 and higher. For the most part, these are traditionally published books.

The majority of self-published books have settled into less-prohibitive price points such as $7.99, $4.99, and $3.99—and lower. Which is perfectly respectable considering we earn better royalties than the traditionally published authors do.

Those who have lowered their price to the bare minimum (99 cents or permanently free) have done so for a reason, a strategic reason: to draw interest to their books and build a fan base. They are removing the monetary barrier that keeps buyers from buying.

The free strategy

If you want to be a professional author, people need to read your book. They can’t do that unless they have access to it.

One way to give them access is to give them the book for free. In this way, they only risk the time it takes to read a few pages because they can opt out with no monetary loss if they realize the book isn’t for them.

The point is, if they have your book on their reading device, they are free to read it or discard it. It’s in their hands, both literally and figuratively.

You’re a new author. You’ve written one book and are launching another. You plan to write a series of six. In a sea of books, how are you going to draw attention to yours?

You could put both books up for whatever the going, respectable rate is for established writers in your genre, say $4.99, and then work your marketing skills, posting and blogging away, while readers slowly start to take notice and a few of them decide to buy.

But it’s very hard to get someone to take that risk on an unknown author. There are so many other options for reading out there. The reading public doesn’t know you, doesn’t know what your writing is like, doesn’t know whether your story will resonate with them.

On the other hand, you could have a free day where upwards of 1,000 readers download your book in one fell swoop (see my blog post). Of that 1,000 or more, some will read it right away. Some will like it and leave you a review. It’s those readers who will trust you and want to purchase the second book in the series to find out what happens to these characters they are now invested in.

If the second book is already out, they will be willing to pay the $4.99 to own and read it. In this way, you both win.

Hopefully, the same reader will become a fan for life and buy the third…fourth…fifth installments. And maybe even a new series, if you decide to write a different one.

Or you can wait

The alternative is to wait for people to discover and buy your first book in dribs and drabs. It will help if your book wins a contest or if you find some influencers to read and review it. You’ll most likely have to use paid ads on a regular basis to draw attention. Building a career this way can be done. Many authors have done it. Traditionally published authors do it this way. While they have at least some of the perks of the publishing house on their side, many end up selling a very small number of books.

Without building a substantial following, you can’t make money as an author through book sales, and it becomes tough to make money through other avenues as well (speaking, patrons, crowdfunding, and so on). You have to spend time and money to make money, just as you would any small business venture. Would you rather publish the book and have very few people read it, or give that first book away and possibly ramp up more quickly, earning more money later?

The choice is yours.

How to Get Emotion on the Page: 2 Most Critical Tactics

Photo by Giulia Bertelli on Unsplash

Today’s post is by regular contributor Susan DeFreitas (@manzanitafire), an award-winning author, editor, and book coach. Join us on March 8 for the online class The Heart of Story.

The great Maya Angelou once said, “At the end of the day people won’t remember what you said or did, they will remember how you made them feel.”

It’s a saying that applies well to fiction: people often don’t remember the plots of the novels they love, but they absolutely do remember how those books made them feel.

I think this is such a huge part of what makes us readers—and writers—to begin with: as James Michener put it, “the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.”

Okay, but…how do you do that, exactly? Meaning, how do you actually generate strong emotions in the reader—and how do you get the reader to feel what your POV character is feeling in the moment?

In another one of my posts for Jane, I detailed the sometimes mysterious ways that seemingly disparate elements of story, when handled right, conspire to achieve this alchemy of emotion: The story’s stakes. The backstory of the characters, and the closeness of their relationships. The protagonist’s thoughts, actions, and dialogue.

But beyond all that, there are some very specific points in your story where the rubber meets the road, as far as emotion goes, and these are the points where you’re actually writing the character experiencing emotion in the moment.

And this is something that even many otherwise excellent writers get wrong, I find, by slipping into a distanced POV—an issue that can occur whether you’re writing in first person or third.

Here’s an example of an emotion written in a distanced way from the third person:

She felt angry. “Stop that!” she shouted.

And here it is from the first person:

I was stunned. “I’m leaving,” I announced.

On the surface, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with either of these little snippets—but the fact is, neither is likely to generate any real emotion in the reader, even if the author has set up those other key elements of the story in such a way as to predispose that reader to care.

So what will?

I’ll get to that, I promise. But first, let’s address why overt statements of emotion don’t work.

Think back to a time when you really were angry, or really were sad.

Did you realize, in the moment, that you were feeling angry?

Did you realize, in the moment, that you were sad?

Chances are, you didn’t. Not right away, at least. Because those words—angry, sad—are the sort of labels we apply to our feelings after we’ve had a chance to process them. The feelings themselves are much more immediate and visceral.

To speak in the terms of brain science: Emotional labels like anger and sadness are generated by the frontal lobe, that advanced part of the human brain that can think about what it is thinking, and think about what it is feeling as well.

To truly put your reader in the emotional position of your POV character, you have to dig deeper, to the more primary thing, the feeling itself, which doesn’t occur in the frontal lobe at all, but rather in the older, more primal parts of the brain associated with our physical and social survival.

And that is best accomplished by body language and internal narration.

Tactic #1: Body language

Body language is generally the easier tactic for most of us to get a hold of, because we’re all quite familiar with the physical manifestations of emotion.

For anger, for instance, that might mean:

your hands balling up into fistspursing your lipsclenching your napkinfeeling your jaw tightenshoving something out of the way

Those are all physical manifestations of an emotion that tells us we may need to fight, to defend ourselves or others.

For feeling sad, that might mean:

feeling tears well up in your eyesfeeling heavyneeding to sit downclosing your eyestaking a deep breath

Those are all physical manifestations of an emotion that tells us we may need to reveal our vulnerability to others, so we can get help—or that we may need to go to ground, conserve energy, and nurse our wounds.

Fiction is full of the physical manifestations of emotions, and writers can often go too far with it, having their characters leapfrog right from bad news to outright sobbing, with no pitstops in between for glassy eyes, a tear escaping down a cheek, and so forth.

But even so, this sort of “body language” is indispensable when it comes to really translating the emotion of the POV character to the reader. Because it’s this sort of language that the reader maps onto her own body, via the magic of mirror neurons, when she reads it.

Meaning, this sort of thing actually helps your reader feel the emotion of the character, physically.

Tactic #2: Internal narrative

But to my mind, the more important tactic, when it comes to the generating emotion in the reader, are the thoughts that actually carry that emotion.

Feeling teary-eyed and heavy, feeling your jaw clench—that sort of body language carries emotion in a general sense. The thoughts associated with the specific emotions of a specific circumstance actually put us there, in this specific moment of the story.

For instance, here are some thoughts that might carry the emotion of anger in a specific circumstance:

Julie couldn’t believe it—her best friend had betrayed her, and hadn’t even had the decency to try to hide it. How had Julie so disastrously misjudged her? And here Julie had thought they’d still be friends when their kids were grown, when they were two old biddies getting up early to hit the estate sales…

And here are some thoughts that might carry the emotion of sadness in a specific circumstance:

Maybe I should have seen it coming, but I hadn’t. In fact, I hadn’t had the slightest idea that anything was even wrong until the moment she said it. And now everything I’d worked so hard to build was crumbling down around me…

These sorts of thoughts are part our internal narration—the story we tell ourselves about ourselves, and about what’s going on in our life. These sorts of thoughts help us formulate and preserve our identity, and to negotiate our social environment.

Internal narration  does a lot to show the reader the meaning the character takes from the event being related, which helps to keep us clearly in that person’s POV—and helps us to feel exactly what they’re feeling.

Combining tactics

Now here’s the body language and the thoughts conveying anger combined:

Julie could feel her hands balling up into fists as she clenched the napkin in her lap. Her best friend had betrayed her, and hadn’t even had the decency to try to hide it. How had Julie so disastrously misjudged her? And here Julie had thought they’d still be friends when their kids were grown, when they were two old biddies getting up early to hit the estate sales…

Here’s the combined body language and thoughts conveying sadness:

I could feel tears prickling in my eyes, so I squeezed them shut. Maybe I should have seen it coming, but I hadn’t. In fact, I hadn’t had the slightest idea that anything was even wrong until the moment she said it. And now everything I’d worked so hard to build was crumbling down around me…

If you get that on the page, and you still want to go ahead and say something like, “She felt angry” or “I was stunned,” go for it—you’ll have earned the right to label the emotion by sharing what actually came first from your character’s POV.

But chances are? You won’t even need to. Because your reader will already be feeling what your character is feeling.

Note from Jane: If you enjoyed this post, join us on March 8 for the online class The Heart of Story.

Always Read the Acknowledgments Page

Today’s post is by writer and literary consultant Grace Bialecki (@GraceBialecki).

On a recent freakishly warm February day, I walked to the library in high spirits. The reckless sunshine had banished winter’s gray and my hopes for spring were budding as I floated up the building’s stone steps. Outside the reading room, I made my usual stop at the “Pay What You Will” book cart. Amongst its treasures was a signed, hard cover copy of Ottessa Moshfegh’s Lapvona, and soon, I was its proud owner.

After a diligent hour of writing, I took a break, flipped to the back of the book, and indulged in one of my favorite pastimes. No, I’m not a sadist who starts by reading the final page—I’m an acknowledgments junkie. Moshfegh writes dark, bizarre novels, and I’ve always found her an enigmatic figure. Who would make their way to her acknowledgments?

But there were only blank pages. Two of them, the second one thicker, marking the end of the book. Impossible. I flipped to the front and then back again. She had acknowledged no one. Later, for the sake of this article and my own sanity, I checked the library’s copy. Also blank.

Frankly, I’m still shocked by this bold move, though anyone who has read Lapvona might find it a fitting end to a brutal novel. Nonetheless, this piece will continue to assume that most books have acknowledgment pages. These literary credits allow us to peer into authors’ lives—from their friends and early readers to business associates, from fellowships and residences to previous publications—and reveal the fascinating web of the publishing world.

Making connections

Yes, I’m nosy—I wanted to know who Moshfegh’s friends are. Most acknowledgment pages list early readers and supporters of the project, and show which authors are helping each other. These names lead to questions—were they in the same MFA cohort? Or was one the author’s mentor? Where do authors find their trusted rough draft readers?

On a fiction break after Lapvona, I’m now reading Major Jackson’s poetry collection Hoops where he thanks the poet, Terrance Hayes. I’m familiar with Hayes’ poems, but seeing his name along with Jackson’s endorsement is a gentle reminder for me to explore his work. It’s also an insight into Jackson’s “artistic family tree” or those artists whose work is related to his. Hoops is crafted around a series of poems entitled, “Letters to [Gwendolyn] Brooks,” which makes her an obvious addition to the family. Noticing the connections between authors is one way to start building your own artistic family tree and conceptualizing your work’s place in the literary forest. And also, it’s thrilling to see a familiar name pop up, even if it’s only an author I’ve read.

A quick gratitude practice

The language authors use to thank their friends and family is inspiration for both thank-you cards and daily life. Unlike Moshfegh’s empty pages, Jackson’s acknowledgment comes just after the table of contents. This is a sign that his appreciation is front and center, even before he writes, “A traditional bow is owed to many friends and colleagues without whose penetrating comments, critical conversations, and lasting encouragement I would have remained enthusiastically in awe yet speechless. They include…” Jackson’s poetic version of an Oscar speech is a wonderful example of how words can express thanks.

What’s more, studies from UC Berkley’s Greater Good Science Center have shown a consistent gratitude practice increases participants’ mental well-being. Obviously, we’re not all penning daily acknowledgements pages, but it’s comforting to know that this concept inherently increases happiness.

Insight into the industry

Although reading acknowledgment pages is a way to learn about the writing community, I have to admit, my interest in them originally came from practical advice. When I was querying for my first novel, a literary agent suggested I look in the back of books similar to mine. On the acknowledgments page, an author’s agent is almost always thanked, and if you’ve already done the work of reading a title from their list, you’re set up for a solid query. While this is an admittedly low-tech and time-intensive approach, I still appreciate it as a way of getting familiar with the industry and am genuinely interested in who is representing who.

The path to publishing can be traced a step further from agent to editor, since they’re usually credited as well. This shows you if the agent is selling manuscripts to the Big Five or smaller independent presses. And also, who at those houses they’re in contact with. It’s not as timely as Publishers Weekly’s Book Deals, which lists that week’s acquisitions and is the fodder for many triumphant Twitter posts, but it’s giving you the same information at no cost. Think of browsing the back pages as an alternative to the Internet’s information highway—this is the scenic, toll-free route, which offers its own views of the industry.

Inspiration for your career

In addition to thanking those who helped with their book, authors also recognize the places where they wrote it. These could be residences, fellowships, or workshops. Macdowell, Yaddo, The Fine Arts Work Center, Cave Canem, and Tin House are a few that often pop up. Yes, these are often prestigious places and, depending on where you are in your career, it might be a waste of time and applications fees to submit. Also, check the requirements — Cave Canem, for example, is exclusively open to Black poets. Personally, I have a tab on a messy spreadsheet of contests and residences titled, “Later.” Just because I’m years ways from these places doesn’t mean I can’t take notes and incubate dreams.

In collections of short stories and poetry, there’s also a list of publications where the pieces first appeared. First of all, this is an exciting way to discover literary magazines. And if one matches your style, a potential home for your work. Secondly, these are insights into the author’s trajectory. Where was the first poem published? How many years between it and the last? And can you see how the writer’s work has evolved?

I recently tore through Matthew Rasmussen’s poetry collection, Black Aperture. It won the 2013 Walt Whitman Award from the Academy of Poets and was a National Book Award Finalist. Of course, my reductive brain assumed Rasmussen was a poetic genius who crafted this masterpiece in mere months. But its back pages reveal that this sleek and haunting collection is the result of over seven years of work. In fact, several poems appeared in their “current or previous versions” in a chapbook, Fingergun, published by Kitchen Press in 2006.

To me, this speaks volumes about the time and tenacity it takes to put together a book. For all we knew, Rasmussen did more edits even after these poems appeared in his chapbook. While it’s easy to associate these polished pieces being birthed this way, in reality, it’s years of labor that have gotten them to this point. This is all to say…

It takes a village

While Moshfegh remains a mysterious figure, I can assure you she did not write, edit, design and publish Lapvona without a single helping hand. Yes, every author must put in the hours of work at their desk to complete a project. But those hours do not happen in a void. Starting and finishing a manuscript requires emotional support—thanks to your parents, partners, and families. It requires other readers—thanks to other writers, artists, and friends. It requires time and space—thanks to grants and foundations. And then getting that manuscript into the hands of readers means thanking agents, publishers, book designers, and a marketing team.

While writers write alone, it takes a village to create a book and these final pages of gratitude are an important reminder of all that teamwork.

I’m curious to hear from the other readers out there. Do you read acknowledgment pages? And if so, what have you learned from them?

The Nuts and Bolts of Becoming an Independent Editor

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Today’s post comes from Book Architecture’s Stuart Horwitz and Madison Utley, the team behind the Independent Editor Podcast. There, they provide concise, experience-based answers to the most pressing questions around making a living as a freelance editor.

There are only three things you need to be a great independent editor: talent, effort, and experience. It’s the last of these–experience–that aspiring editors tend to agonize over. While there is coursework you can undertake in a few places in the US and there are a couple of professional organizations that offer piecemeal training, there is no formalized career path or comprehensive resource that clearly lays out how to get into this business or how to thrive once you’re here.

This means, at present, independent editing is really an apprenticeship industry. The only way to gain informed experience is to work alongside an established figure in the field. That’s a great way forward in theory, but what of those who are abounding in talent and willing to put in the necessary effort, but without any inroads into the industry?

We’re here to offer something concrete and foundational to ground you as you get started.

But first, what does being an independent editor entail

Whatever you’re good at and actually like doing involving the written word, you can turn into an income stream. This is good news. While diversification is beneficial for business and you should explore the full breadth of options and consider breaking into new areas, there’s no pressure to be good at everything. It’s okay to say “that’s not for me” about certain types of work and instead focus your energy and efforts elsewhere.

Some of the more common roles for an editor within this space are developmental editing, ghostwriting, coaching, cowriting, copy editing, proofreading, and marketplace assistance through the traditional or self-publishing avenue–but this is hardly an exhaustive list; when it comes to your suite of services, the possibilities are nearly endless.

How do you find clients?

Obtaining your first few clients might seem like a daunting hurdle to get over, but it really doesn’t have to be. The beginnings of effective networking can be as simple as communicating what you do well, with no hesitation or shame, to “your people.” This is the ground level of putting yourself out there–letting friends and family know you’ve decided to pursue a career in independent editing. Presenting in a library, to a local writer’s group, or as part of an adult education class are also accessible and surprisingly effective ways to get your foot in the door. From there, natural momentum will build as previous clients return or refer, and your efforts can expand to include working with agents, brokers, and publishers.

You need to get comfortable with “no.” Not everyone you approach will want to help you, and you can’t interpret every yes or no as either “I belong here” or “I don’t belong here.” That’s giving the odds too much influence. You just need to say, “I’m doing this.” And that’s it. You’re an independent editor.

Rolling with the yeses and nos allows you to develop a non-outcome dependent rhythm. There is a natural order to the sales funnel, in which more referrals are poured into the top than come out the bottom as clients. This winnowing down, through the prospect inquiry and sales call, among other stages, is to be expected, and it absolves you of controlling outcomes. All you can do is be intelligent about the process, and draw as many people into the top as possible. Remembering this helps ward off discouragement. Learn more.

When prospects look you up, what do they find?

When people search you out, they are looking to assess if you’re their person. Your online presence–your editorial platform–is what determines this answer. While your social media may weigh into the decision to some degree, the crown jewel of your platform will be your website.

The right time to launch your website was last week. (Next week works too). Your website is the most powerful tool you have to establish your credibility, which creates comfort; to express your personality, which creates connection; and to show your engagement, which creates a call to action. The first step in making this happen is selecting a domain name that makes sense, that takes advantage of any previous name or brand recognition you might already have, and is one you can live with as you and your business grows.

A bad website is worse than no website at all. Your website should feel modern and professional, like you invested time and money into its construction. It doesn’t have to be done all at once, however; a good website can be built over time as you navigate the subtle challenges of figuring out how to cast your past experience, what kinds of testimonials are available to you now and what will be in the future, and how to describe your current scope of services versus what you might want to add down the line. Initially, your website might only be a single landing page; that’s okay, as long as it’s a page done well.

Make sure the right information is on there. When a prospect visits your website, they should feel like they’re getting to know you, and they should feel like they’re in good hands. This means relevant aspects of your CV, your education (both degrees and certifications), and information, accolades, or testimonials related to previous work all need to be highlighted, but in an engaging manner that showcases your personality and interests.

List your suite of services. While it’s helpful to broadly lay out the kind of work you’re best at and most enjoy doing, it’s also important to pepper every page with invitations to reach out for an in-person chat. The ways in which you can provide editorial assistance will grow to be nuanced and extensive. And, in any case, getting a prospect on the phone to discuss their project is the best way to figure out how exactly you can be of service and make a sale that meets both your needs. Learn more.

How do I set prices?

There is no uniform answer to this question, and you should be skeptical of anyone who tells you otherwise. There are editors out there charging $50/hour and others charging $300/hour. Realistically, you’re probably aiming for somewhere in between. There are two considerations that help determine exactly where to land in that window: an outward look at the market, and an inward look at your billable hour.

How much do you want to make in a year? Answering this question is a good place to start. Stay away from selecting a figure based on what you think you can “pull off,” or the number you think you “probably deserve” given your limited experience. Instead, you want to come up with an amount that will mean you won’t be stressed about money all the time. The goal here is not to earn as much as is humanly possible, but instead to make sure that you’re getting paid the amount that respects your talents and your time.

Establish a base hourly rate for yourself as a guide. Not every project can be charged by the hour, of course, but this is an important figure to come up with and something you can use to inform what you charge when a project fee is called for. Set your base rate high enough to cover the hours you’re not getting paid for: your marketing and promotion, sales efforts, and all the unglamorous back office effort that goes into running a business, for example.

You know you’re quoting right when you’ve surprised yourself a little. You need to consider what the market will bear, of course, but a good place to aim is the high side of moderate. It’s not your job to figure out what an individual can pay. It’s not your job to assess the merit of a project. It’s your job to logically come up with a fair price, and to calmly communicate it. Avoiding the urge to price dive to win a prospect over is crucial, even at the outset of your career; it can create a downward spiral effect that is hard to emerge from. The ideal client is someone who is impressed with your work and willing to pay your fee because it reflects the talent you bring to the table.

Release your attachment to getting the job, which is a natural continuation of accepting both the yeses and nos of prospecting. This helps you keep a steady head throughout the price communicating process. Being genuinely okay with whatever the prospect decides infuses a confidence into the dynamic the potential client can feel. Conversely, any level of desperation is going to be palpable and push prospects away.

Expect month-to-month fluctuations. Once you’ve set a specific goal for your income, it’s natural to start gauging your process by assessing each month’s performance. This can bring about a helpful sense of orientation and motivation, but your month to month earnings will likely fluctuate depending on where clients are in their payment schedules. Coming in below target one month is not cause for alarm; with intentionality, it’ll even out annually. Learn more.

What does closing the deal actually look like?

The goal here is to get quality prospects on the phone. Anecdotally, discussing a project on a call as opposed to doing so via email increases the chance of locking in a sale by a factor of three. While we allot half an hour for these calls at Book Architecture, the average conversation runs far less than that. In any regard, it is time well spent; even if someone does not invest in your services, if you have been courteous and helpful along their journey they will remember you and may even refer you to someone else.

The sales process is not a necessary evil. Our culture seems to find the concept of sales distasteful. There’s an idea that salespeople will do anything they can to clinch a sale because they don’t have to stand behind it. While this may be true in some siloed industries, it doesn’t apply to the independent editor who then has to do—and stand behind—the work she or he just sold. Instead, sales are what makes your business function. It’s what lets you do this for a living. Sales is simply a natural expression of talking about how much you love the work and communicating to people that this is what you do.

Don’t quote over the phone. We don’t list prices on our website, and we don’t give them over the consultation call either. The point of the phone call is to hear about the prospect’s project, to explain how you can help them achieve their goals, and to cultivate a sense of connection. This enables both parties to gauge compatibility, and also helps you develop a sense of the scope of their project. When a call goes well, it might include requesting a sample of their work or discerning other variables so that you can better determine scope and pricing.

There is such a thing as a bad prospect. We covered how not every lead is going to convert, but let’s also make clear that not every lead should be converted. Getting a prospect on the phone is not only a chance for you to convince them you’re the best person for their project, but it lets you see what your working relationship might be like. If they call into your appointment 27 minutes late, if they make it clear they think they have all the power and you’re there to serve them, if they suggest that they don’t “really have a budget” for the project, it’s okay to decide it’s not going to work out. Learn more.

Can you talk me through how a developmental editing project might unfold?

A written critique is the most effective jumping off point for nearly any project. This allows you, the editor, to intimately acquaint yourself with a client’s work–and get paid for it–while providing valuable feedback in turn. This feedback, collated into a macro and micro section, can then be discussed in a follow-up conference. The process serves as an excellent chemistry check between the two of you and a diagnostic on what further efforts a manuscript may need; if Phase One goes well, your work together will likely continue on.

Manuscript revision makes up the heft of the process. This could look like the author diving into the revision on their own following the Phase One conference, with the option to come back to you for assistance when ready for another round of coaching. Clients looking for a more hands-on approach may ask that you work through the revisions with them. In these cases, you might provide: coaching on which topics to tackle in which order; input on new material via page-by-page commenting, cover letters, and live conferences as needed; and/or notes on how to weave new material together with the old. No matter how exactly it unfolds, Phase Two is about getting a manuscript into its best possible form and off to copyediting.

Your role may shift or expand as the project progresses. There is a spectrum of assistance you can provide to authors during a Phase Two, from coaching to cowriting through to ghostwriting. Sometimes the roles agreed upon at the start of a new stage become something else in the midst of it. Accepting the shift, while also charging for the more intensive level of support, can be a boon to your bottom line. Whether an author comes to you looking for co- or ghostwriting support from the outset or you get there over time as the project unfolds, embrace the opportunity and trust that you can handle the job.

Clients may look to you to help them decide between traditional and self-publishing, and then guide them through the respective process. Traditional publishing requires authors to generate submission material, and you can help them do that. Clients with nonfiction manuscripts will need to put together a nonfiction book proposal. With fiction, authors need a well constructed synopsis. With traditional publishing, there is also a package of related services you can offer including the provision of a database of literary agents interested in the author’s genre. For authors looking to self-publish their work, you can in effect become a project manager, assembling a bank of referrals who build out a full publishing team including an interior designer, a cover designer, a proofreader, and an ebook formatter.

If you’re attuned, the possibilities are nearly limitless. Given your extensive familiarity with the author’s work, you’re now well-positioned to supply any necessary publication support. This could look like furnishing an author bio or book description, providing blog support, generating social media assets, or spearheading other promotional efforts. Why stop there? You might also compile bibliographies, create the index for a work, secure permissions, ghostwrite corporate communications—the list goes on.

Remain open-minded and creative about what you can turn into an income stream; invariably, those streams will join force and turn into a powerful river in time.

The Independent Editor Podcast addresses these topics and more in 20- to 30-minute episodes that give detailed, practical support. Season one is available to stream on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and iHeart Radio. Updates on the latest releases and extra content can be found on the pod’s Instagram, @theIEpod.