Larry Brooks's Blog, page 42

How and Why to Write With Power

In just about any other endeavor, that headline (swapping out the word "write" with the passion of your choice) makes sense.  But for writers it's a loaded gun, and if misunderstood, not in a good way.

Too many writers misunderstand what it means to write with power.

Too many writers equate power with… eloquence.  With descriptive genius.  With adjectives.

That's not writing with power, that's too often writing with gobs of purple prose. 

To fully understand what writing with power really means, one has to know the difference, one needs to get it, and then see it or hear it when it crosses your path.

Let me lay one on you right now.

In the trailer for the upcoming film "We Bought a Zoo," there's a line that (IMO) qualifies as powerful:

"All you need is twenty seconds of insane courage, and I promise you something great will come of it."

There's only one adjective in there.  My jaw dropped into my popcorn when I heard Matt Damon say this in the preview.

We should strive to write sentences like that one.

Power is not about adjectives.  Power is all about punch… sub-text, relevance, illumination, heart and soul… the poignant moment, the ironic, the truly humorous… the truth.

Nothing wrong with colorful writing.  Just don't confuse it with powerful writing. 

Here's another example.

Click HERE to go to the Amazon.com page for a novel called Manhattan Nocturne, by Colin Harrison, originally published in 1997 to astounding critical acclaim, and republished in 2008.  Click the book cover image marked "Click to look INSIDE," then click through all the title pages and beyond the quote by Luc Sante (I never heard of him, either), to the first page of the novel itself.

Read the first paragraph. The one that begins with: "I sell mayhem, scandal, murder and doom."

I believe the term OMG! applies here.

There are four adjectives, two sentences with two each.  And yet… this is an astounding example (IMO) of powerful writing.

Colin Harrison, by the way, was once dubbed "the poet laureate of American thriller writers," and it wasn't because of his descriptive prose, which in places it certainly is.  It was because of his ability to write with power, which fueled his otherwise solid but arguably unremarkable storylines with a delicious reading experience.

Power depends on timing, cadence and relevance.

You have to really understand what a scene is going for — indeed, what the thematic essence of the entire story is — in order to optimize your ability to write powerfully.

Many times — most of the time — less is more. And certainly you shouldn't seek to make every sentence something quotable.  Exposition is as important — and separate from — powerful writing… if you season your writing with powerful moments, you'll imbue the whole thing with a powerful essence.

Sometimes, though, in those moments, it's time to swing for the fences and hit it out of the park.

It's hard to really "learn" this. It's a sensibility, a nuance, a deft touch.  Rather, over time, you can discover it from deep within yourself.  You need to summon your inner poet, copywriter, philospher, favorite uncle, JFK's speechwriter and Abraham Lincoln, all fused and staged with an equisite sense of timing.

Don't force it, just understand it.  And then look for just the right moment to go for it.

What are some of the most powerful single lines you've ever read… or perhaps even written?

****

Vote for your favorite writing website HERE.

How and Why to Write With Power is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

"One Author's Writing Path" — A Guest Post by Nann Dunne

Each writer treads upon a writing path unique to him or her. Hearing about others' steps along that lonesome and sometimes treacherous path can bolster our confidence as we try to push past life's detours and persist toward our writing goals. Here's my story. I hope it encourages you.

My fiction writing didn't begin until I was fifty-eight years old, but the foundation had been built long before that. My two older brothers and I played school at home, and they taught me to read at a fourth-grade level before I started first grade. Once my mother realized I could read, she gave me a real dictionary – not a children's one – and showed me how to use it. I fell in love with words.

All through grade school, high school, and college, I got high grades on anything I wrote as an assignment, but I didn't acquire the writing bug. People all along the way would tell me I should write. I became an editor in the advertising and corporate worlds and spent many years editing other people's work. In fact, I occasionally composed business letters and resumes and even helped with work manuals and organizational bylaws just as favors to my friends. Still, I had no compulsion to attempt creative writing.

When I was forty-two years old, I suffered a stroke that affected my right side. Suddenly my life turned upside down. I had difficulty walking, talking, and manually writing (I'm right-handed). I lost huge gobs of memory. My physical ability to walk and talk improved rather quickly, thank goodness, but in a strange fashion, my words partially deserted me. While speaking, I often had to search for words I knew and couldn't bring to mind – a recall problem that still plagues me. But in that strange fashion I mentioned, I discovered I could write words with much less difficulty. I'd always been a computer hound, so I switched from editing manually to editing on a word processor and that enabled me to cope with my job. Still, I had no urge to write stories.

Fifteen years later, several factors conjoined. My mother died, my best friend of twenty-five years died, the owner of the company I worked for retired, and I switched jobs. I was overwhelmed with grief and loss. I had difficulty focusing, and I spent a lot of time watching television, something I had rarely done before. But it turned out to be my salvation.

I got caught up in watching the Xena: Warrior Princess show, a somewhat campy but delightfully entertaining show. After I had watched it for about six months, I learned that fans were writing their own stories for the show that they posted online and I began to read them. I read this fanfic, as it was called, off and on for about a year, and one day it occurred to me that it might be fun to write one of those stories. But I hesitated; I had never written fiction. Then I read an interview of one of the writers who was a consummate storyteller. She said writing was easy. Just put the two main characters in a setting and keep on asking "what if."

So I did that. I wrote and posted three fanfic novellas. To my surprise, I caught the writing bug and churned out six more. Fanfic is a great way to cut your writing teeth. Fans read your stories and give you instant feedback. My fans were very encouraging and kept asking me to write more. I was co-writing and posting a full-length novel with a friend, and a publisher's agent contacted us and wanted to publish the story. We were ecstatic. The company published that novel and a sequel. Subsequently, I wrote a story by myself and that got published too.

I stopped writing for a while. I decided if I was going to have stories out there with my name on them, I wanted them to be the best-written stories I was capable of. So I diligently perused books and websites on the craft of writing, studied the conventions of fiction writing for three years, and picked the brains of writers I knew and admired. Lori L. Lake helped me so much and so generously, that I still call her my mentor. Then I went back to writing.

I've had two more books of fiction published. I re-edited the first three books and they've been reissued. I learned so much in those three years of study that three different publishing houses contracted with me to edit their books, and I've written a book on editing. I love to help other writers by editing their stories, but it's terribly time consuming and "steals" from my writing time. So I've started cutting back.

For the past eight years, I published an online ezine called Just About Write (JAW), and December's issue is the last. I'm clearing the deck to free up more writing time. It took a long while for me to become a writer who yearns to write, but it finally did happen. Now when I don't write, I get antsy.

My writing path has been a long and winding one with plenty of detours, but once I was sure where I wanted to go, I became persistent about working toward my goals. And I will constantly sharpen my tools by learning from teachers like Larry Brooks. That's an important part of the process.

Stay on your path. Learn. Write. Persist. It has worked for me. I got a late start, but I'm having the time of my life!

 Visit Nann Dunne's sites:  

- www.nanndunne.com for her fiction

- www.nanndunnebooks.com for her book on editing

Vote for your favorite writing website HERE.

"One Author's Writing Path" — A Guest Post by Nann Dunne is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

Giblets and "What's Your Favorite Writing Website?" Gravy

Haven't done this in a while… a little potpourri of stuff. 

New entry available on the Peer Review page.

Please gift Steve Theme (is that a great writer's name, or what?) with feedback on his YA-slanted memoir (two chapters), Asphalt Sanctuary.  Read it HERE.

If you'd like some feedback on your story, including some of your NaNoWriMo WIP, click here to see how the Peer Review page thing works.  There are plenty of other WIPs there, too, so if you're in for some reading, your feedback is welcomed.  In fact, it's the whole point.

"On to the next."

I used this reference in a recent post on fielding criticism, referring to the teflon mindset of the successful writer.  Some of you asked where it came from (no, I didn't make it up)… it's from the novel "Brothers" by the iconic screenwriter, William Goldman.

Vote for Your Favorite Writing Website

The annual reader's poll to determine the top ten writing sites on the internet is now open and accepting votes.  If you have a favorite writing website, click HERE to cast your vote (scroll to the end of a very long COMMENT thread to add your vote/comment), naming the site and the reasons for your vote.

If Storyfix is your choice, then I really appeciate the support.  Last year worked out pretty well (changed my life, actually), when Storyfix landed in the #1 position on the Top 10 list.  Lots of sites campaign hard for this, and both the volume and enthusiasm of the voting plays a big part in an otherwise "judged" competition.

Votes count until December 10, 2011.

Click HERE to see last year's winners.

Giblets and "What's Your Favorite Writing Website?" Gravy is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

The Rarely Spoken Variable

What have you written lately?

Volume is important.  Pace counts.

I'm not talking about volume and pacing within your stories.  I'm talking about your output.  The frequency with which you write The End on the final page of a manuscript.

I spend a lot of time talking about craft.  But craft is like love… not worth all that much if you don't put it to work in your life.  In fact, it can be downright depressing when it exists as a means with no place to play.

Storytelling craft is a lot like love, in fact, but that's another blog post.

If you expect to sell your first novel — as in, the first novel you've ever written – then you've just annointed yourself special.  It hardly ever happens.

No, a career as a fiction writer is a long-haul proposition.  Getting published isn't the benchmark… staying at it is.  "On to the next" is the mantra of the successful in this business.

Is your muse driving the bus, or waiting on a bench?

I had dinner tonight with my beautiful step-daughter.  She was an English Lit major, she's a passionate consumer of novels, and someone in close touch with energies and enlightenments that would send many of us into hiding, or to a shrink's office. 

She has "the gift."

I've talked to her for the last fifteen years about writing a novel.  Her life situation has led her to a point where, one could argue, the time has arrived. 

Tonight I asked her a question with interesting implications for all of us.

I asked her what she was waiting for.  If she was expecting, and therefore waiting on, a muse to suddenly agree that it's time, and thus bestow a story idea upon her.  If she's waiting for a cosmic shoulder tap that whispers the arrival of a Big Idea.

Before she could answer, I suggested that this may indeed be the case.  And then I also suggested that she flip this whole proposition on its naive ear to see what might happen.

What if, I postulated, the muse was waiting on her?  Waiting for her to click into story-search mode, eager to climb on board if only she'd declare the intention and set out a net.

She said that was an interesting idea.  That she'd think about it.

I'm hoping you'll do the same.

What have you written lately?  If the answer is "not much," then what are you waiting for?

The craft is already here.  Yours for the taking.

So is the Muse, and so is the Big Idea. 

The latter, however, is still out there.  Possibly hiding in plain site.  Possibly closer than you can imagine.

What if?  Marry those two words with something that fascinates you, frightens you, challenges you, call to you…

… and they can summon the Muse out of hiding. 

She won't say them for you… but she's listening closely. 

Tick tock.

The Rarely Spoken Variable is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

The Personal Story Arc: A Guest Post by Art Holcomb

(Editor's note: this should be mandatory reading for anyone with a serious writing bug.  One word: brilliant.) 

 

"I never know what I think about something until I read what I've written on it."  

                                                                                        – William Faulkner

 More about the quote later.

I started my writing career as a 12 year old in San Jose, California when in 1968 I won a contest and had my one act play produced at a small San Francisco theater.  The play, entitled "The Birnbaum Guide to Hell on Five Dollars a Day", was a goof, a class project that I was goaded into writing by my 6th grade teacher, Mrs. Hanzad.  It was about an old married couple who were accidentally killed during a European vacation and ended up having a wonderful time touring the Afterlife.

The story had a devil and imps and smoke and brimstone and ended up being a gas to write.  It also had a scene near the end where the husband has to say goodbye to the wife when it's discovered that there was a clerical error and she was actually destined for Heaven.  It was the only really emotional scene in an otherwise funny piece and it was this scene that sold the play, the judges said. I remember that it came out of  me in a sudden rush and took me by surprise when I wrote it. I later thought several times that it should be taken out, that it had no place in the play.

I didn't take it out.  In retrospect, I knew that it was the only way the story worked. I also came to know that it was this scene was only reason I wrote the play in the first place.

I've thought about the Birnbaum play off and on as I wrote other things. In my professional career I've scripted animation for television, optioned a film treatment to a production company, written dozens of comic books and published many poems, essays and newspaper pieces.  I came to write this piece today, in fact,  at Larry's invitation after I sent him a long overdue appreciation for his fantastic books and posts, many of which have gotten me over some difficult writing patches and have supplied excellent motivational pushes when they were needed the most. And once again, the play came to mind as I started to write this article.

Through it all, one thing has become clear: I believe that none of my art – my writing, publications and career – would have been possible had I not written that play and gotten that scene out of me.

Of course, I now know why I had to write the goodbye scene, where the husband has to let go of his wife of forty years.  I had lost my mother to cancer several years earlier when I was six. And I came to realize why it was considered the most powerful scene in the play.

Because it came from the defining moment in my life so far.

Because it was real. Because it was actual.

It was the goodbye scene that I was never destined to never with my own mother, told by a child who had yet to learn how to keep such feelings to himself.  The scene was part of me; part of my personal story arc, and it said more about me and my life than that 12 year old boy knew at the time.

Experts will tell you that a child who has lost a parent at an early age very often turns to the arts in later life; he or she is trying to make sense of their own stories, to explain their experiences to themselves and then learn how to share them with others. The pain and abandonment that comes with such a loss will always create some kind of dramatic reaction such as it did with me. And when I finally wrote that scene out — when I heard it spoken by an actor and felt the hush of the people seated around me in the theatre — I knew I'd found something meaningful to me.  A pathway for my own personal stories. And through it, I moved one step farther as a writer and one step closer to understanding.

So . . . back to the quote.

Faulkner was right, of course. We don't know who we are and what we know and feel until we write about it or paint it or sculpt it or dance it away into the cool, dark air. We must resist the urge to curb it and dismiss it as art-as-therapy because it can be the force behind the stories we tell. As writers, we must use every bit of whatever emotion is inside to tell our stories because, although we are each special, our experiences are not unique.  Parents die; children grow up and all things eventually change. It is that common thread of shared burdens and joys that tie your readers to you and you to them. To ignore this is to shackle your talent; to use it as part of your natural gifts is to elevate your writing to the realm of the genuine and true.

Every piece you write tells you something about yourself that you had not actively known before.  Make that knowledge part of your process.  It will be the spark that leads to greater understanding and to a deeper and more authentic work.

So, ignore your inner critics.

Learn your craft . . .

But let that six year old in you . . . out.

*****

Art Holcomb is a screenwriter whose work has appeared on the SHOWTIME Channel and has written for such comics as Marvel's THE X-MEN and Acclaim's ETERNAL WARRIORS. He has appeared as a guest and taught at San Diego Comic-Con and other conventions.  His most recent work is THE MEADOWS (with Mark L. Haynes), a science fiction police procedural.

The Personal Story Arc: A Guest Post by Art Holcomb is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

"Writing away madly, he made this fatal little mistake."

Read that headline again.  Can you spot the mistake? 

Okay, it's not a mistake, per se, but it's something that newer writers do all the time, and professional writers don't.

At least, you don't see it in published work very often, because editors cut it out like a malignant growth.

It's the two-part structure of a sentence, the first being a percursor to action, the second being action itself.  Sometimes the two parts connect, sometimes not (as in, "Adjusting his tie, he watched the two cars collide."  Not good). 

Again, it's not technically wrong, but if you want your work to hit home on a first read — and thus be perceived as something more evolved than a newbie — avoid these bad sentences at all costs.

Here are some examples of this little stumble in action… and then, in italics, the same intention rewritten in a more professional, or at least palatable – way.

***

Checking to see if anyone was watching, he took a seat next to her.

He sat next to her after checking to make sure nobody would see.

***

Admiring herself in the mirror, she smiled as the telephone rang.

She was smiling at what she saw in the mirror when the telephone suddenly rang.

***

Sitting up in alarm, Beth pulled the covers under her chin and screamed.

She screamed.  Loud and piercing, the sound muffled by the blanket she'd pressed to her face.

***

Dropping to her knees, she rested her forehead against the granite slab.

Her head rested on a granite slab as she sank to her knees.

***

An overhead light flickered, bathing the room in alternating levels of light.

The room danced with shadows cast by a fickering overhead light.

***

Momentarily pausing, they allowed an elderly man hobbling behind a walker to pass.

They paused to allow an octegenarian piloting a walker to pass.

*** (End of examples, back to my little rant.)

You can get away with a few of these, but that doesn't often happen because writers who opt for this structure tend to overkill it.  It's like a speech pattern that gives away one's lack of formal eduction… the orator doesn't hear it, but everyone else does.

If you're doing NaNoWriMo, don't sweat this… yet. 

Just be sure to go back and kill these gremlins once December arrives.  Otherwise, begin to notice as you hatch them, and realize that this is a fly swimming in your otherwise delicious soup. 

Scoop it out before company arrives and nobody will know the difference.

"Writing away madly, he made this fatal little mistake." is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

More on Criticism, Confusion and NaNoWriMo Nausea

Last week's post about handling criticism struck a chord with many Storyfix readers.  It should — we all get it, and we all get to decide what to do about it.

If you'd like more on this subject, this time from a fine artist's point of view, here are three essays on the subject from best-selling photographer and author, Alain Briot, entitled Understanding Criticism.

Here are the links: Part 1… Part 2 … and Part 3.  Good stuff.

Stuck in the Middle?

Remember that song, by Steelers Wheel from the early1970s?  (The group included a guy named Gerry Rafferty, who went on to a nice solo career after SW broke up).  You might if you're an old fart like me (after the October series I can't get the tune out of my head)…

… and if you're literally stuck in the middle of your NaNoWriMo draft, you'll definately relate, at least to one particular line:

Tryin' to make some sense of it all… but I can see it makes no sense at all…

It happens.  Frequently, in fact, if you start writing a draft without knowing: a) how the story will end, b) who your hero is and will become, and/or c) how to launch the story with an effective plot point that comes after an equally effective series of set-up scenes.

So now you're stuck. 

Or at least slowed.

I've heard from some of you to this effect, and while I take no pleasure in any sort of I-told-y0u-so posturing… well, here it is: I told you so.  This is what happens when you begin a draft that is without a vision for these particular things, among a handful of other criteria.  Such a non-planning, organic draft is, in essence, a form of story-search, and only when you find it (whether because of that draft, or because of any pre-draft story planning), can you write a draft that actually works. 

Or perhaps, as you sit there stuck, feels like it has a shot at working.

So what now? 

My best advice is to stop right where you are and analyze what you've got, with an emphasis on why you feel stuck.  Chances are it'll be because the story isn't clinging to a solid linear flow directed toward a vision for a killer ending, that it's rambling a bit and you find yourself writing more about characters that giving them something meaninful to do.

No writing is ever wasted.  If you're stuck, then what you've written is useful as a launching pad toward discovery of what you should have written.  You've vetted and test-flown some of your ideas, and now you know you need a new engine, or at least a new paint job. 

Use this experience to move forward in a more informed, directed way.  There's plenty of days remaining to finish a draft that works.

This process — story discovery by drafting — works fine if you have two things: knowledge and time.  But you certainly don't have the latter on your side at this point, which means that without a plan for your story going forward, whether that exists on paper or in your head, come November 30th you'll end up with the same pit in your stomach that you're feeling now.

So stop writing.  Right now.  Change gears.  Write smart, not fast.

Take stock of what you've got and create a plan for how the book should and will end.  A solid plan.  Evaluate your pages thus far and juxtapose them against this new plan, and then make some notes on what you must do to them later to make them fit into the new story vision. 

Then get busy and write the rest of the book.

You may have a finished book that could be a revision away — to the previous pages… no time to fix them now, and no need if you go forward with a solid story vision, they'll be waiting for a facelift beginning on December 1 – from being a story that is worth your further attention.

A huge temptation — and a fatal misstep — would be to combine your existing pages, the ones that are making your feel uneasy, with the forthcoming planned pages in the belief that you've just saved the story, and that you're done.  Chances are you haven't… the first half of a book needs to be written in context to the ending as much as the second half.

Whatever gets you there.  As long as you understand what "there" means in this context.

Another reason you might be feeling quesy when you look at your keyboard… that Big Idea you started with turned out to be something less than as-advertised.  Just remember, the concept doesn't have to be wildly original or strong if your characters and themes are… and vice versa. 

Again, break it down to identify what isn't working (and what you'll come back to with a CPR kit), then finish the novel from your new narrative context. 

If you'd like a NaNoWriMo 101 refresher…

..a reminder that I've collected the entire October planning series in a new ebook, "When Every Month is NaNoWriMo," and it's available now.  It includes the many linked reference posts from the series in full, as well as an entire award-winning novel to help illustrate what goes where, and why.  Click HERE to get your Kindle copy… HERE for a downloadable PDF… pretty cheap, too.

I hope you're enjoying the experience, and I'm wishing you great success.

Which, as you know if you're been reading here, has little to do with simply finishing a rock pile of 50,000 words and everything to do with birthing a story that has a future.

 

(Thanks to my good friend Dennis Damore for the Critiscism links.)

More on Criticism, Confusion and NaNoWriMo Nausea is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

The Art of Receiving Criticism

You signed up to be a writer.  But the fine print it says: you will occasionally be eviscerated by someone who doesn't like or appreciate your work.  It's part of the deal.

Feedback can be a real gift.  Or, it can squash you. 

Part of moving forward in this game is recognizing what to let in and what to… regard carefully and perhaps take lightly.  Somewhere between believing-in-yourself and I-don't really-know-if-this-is-any-good there resides a healthy middle ground.  It can years to find, and even more years to find the strength to live there.

A good writer friend of mine recently landed an agent with a speculative novel. 

I'd been a sounding board for her early in the story-search process, and she's been a staunch advocate for my story development model, which she says helped her get it right.  She believed in the story, and so did I.  It was a great concept.

Her critique group… not so much.  They didn't respond to it — some were actually put-off by it — at the conceptual/outlining phase.  Too risky, they said.  Didn't get it, they said.  Offends traditional sensibilities, some said.

She didn't listen.  Oh, she heard them, and it stung.  Caused her a moment of doubt, too.  But she believed in herself, and she believed me when I said not only that she should go for it, but the concept was absolutely stellar… for those same reasons the nay-sayers were laying on her.

In essence, they weren't — and would never be — the target audience for the novel she had in mind.

So she chose what to hear and what to respond to.  She didn't let the criticism block the process or her vision for the outcome.  And now… she's on the cusp of the dream coming true.

Here are a few guidelines and truisms for weighing criticism:

The broader and more general it is — depending on the source — the more valuable it is. 

Conversely, the more moment-specific it is (down to and including nit-picking of specifics and minutea), the more craft-focused it is, the more you need to filter it before you decide on it.

Consider the source of the input.  Non-writers can provide very useful feedback, because usually their criticisms are at the highest level.  But again, they may or may not be familiar with your genre, and if it's a treatment or just an idea you're pitching, that's hard to sell to any listener because the proof is always in the execution.  Which was the case with my friend's novel. 

Back in the day, my first agents told me that my idea to adapt one of my screenplays into a novel wasn't a good one.  I didn't listen.  I believed.  A year later the book was on the USA Today bestseller list.

We are never in control of what's said to us… but we are always in control of how we respond to it.  The trade off between self-belief and feedback is tricky, it's a skill-set you need to cultivate along with your writing chops.

As for other writers and especially critique groups (remember, their mission is to find something to criticize… they feel they're failing you, or being lame, if they can't find something to pick on), so be very careful.  Their cautionary feedback could simply mean they would have made different choices about specific things.

Might be right, might be wrong.  Consider the source, the context, the big picture, and trust your gut.  Then move forward.

But if an agent says it's too slow… don't argue.  It's too slow.

Separate the moment-specific from the story-specific.  If someone doesn't like the way a character talks… okay, they don't get it.  But if they feel the story takes too long to kick into gear… that could be golden.  Pay particular attention to that level of input.

When someone says, "it's not really my thing," say thank you and move on without a second thought.

Here's the type of constructive feedback you should be listening for:

It didn't hook me.  Kinda slow.  Found it hard to root for your hero.  It was confusing, wasn't sure what was going on.  Over-written.  Too many characters.  Too much description.  Too vanilla, I've read this before.  Flat characters. 

Even… "I dunno… the idea was okay… but it just… I dunno… it just didn't work for me."  If that comes from an agent or editor, pay closer attention than if it comes from someone you know.

Notice how these are all big-picture, story-level issues.  They're trying to tell you the novel doesn't work as well as it could, or should.

The higher the level of the critic, the more you should listen.

What you need to weigh carefully are little nits and opinions that really don't affect the story at all. 

When this input arrives, you can be sure it comes from one of two places, maybe a combination both: the critic is genuinely trying to help… or the critic is trying to sound like they know better.  And possibly a third… the critic doesn't know.

Nobody really knows.  Every first-novel bestseller in history has a bloody trail of rejections leading from the writer's house to the bank.

Criticism is out there.  Always has been, always will be.  Sometimes the stuff you hear after you publish it is the most hurtful of all.  Even if it's too late.

Try this: think, plan, listen, decide, commit, write, listen, respond accordingly.

Repeat.

"When Every Month is NaNoWriMo" is now available for your Kindle or as a downloadable PDF.

You read the October series, now you can get it and the linked content — plus the entire novel, "Bait and Switch" for use as reference and example — in one 300-plus volume of chewy go0dness… as useful in the other 11 months as it is during November.

And, if you'd like to know how that happened so fast…

… and think you'd like to publish your own ebook, click the "Author 2.0″ button on the far right (bottom) column of this site.  It's a multi-media training program on how to get it done, even without really knowing what you're doing where tech stuff is concerned.  An invaluable resource if this is where you're heading.

The Art of Receiving Criticism is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

NaNoWriMo eBook Now Available as as PDF

Is it polite to lead with a caveat?  Here's mine:

I just released my new ebook, "When Every Month is NaNoWriMo: Principles, Guidelines, Tips and New Thinking to Make Sure Your Novel Doesn't Tank."   The caveat is that the book is a sequenced, buffed-up version of the 31 posts presented here in October… plus the linked reference posts (including various criteria lists and sample Prologues)… plus the ENTIRE ebook edition of "Bait and Switch" (my most successful novel, critically-speaking) for your reference and enjoyment.

Check the middle column of this site (top).  You'll see a new "ADD TO CART" button… just click it to get your copy.  It'll take you to Paypal, then (when you're done there) to an E-Junkie page where you need to hit the DOWNLOAD button (easy to find), which will allow you to download it to your computer… where you'll then need to SAVE it.

If you don't save it, it'll go away, so be sure to put it on your hard drive somewhere.  The PDF is easy to read, easy to print, and easy to wrap your head around.

One context shift in this version… the material applies to non-NaNoWriMo projects as powerfully as it does the November experience.  Guess you'd intuit that from the title, but it bears repeating.  If your non-NaNoWriMo friends are looking for a solid and original guide to writing a better novel, hope you'll point this out to them.

Oh… it's $5.95. 

Less than I originally quoted, mainly because the content is also available here, for free (other than the novel).  If you'd like the whole thing bundled and accessible, then this is a good resource for you.

A Kindle version is on the way.

That takes a few days… guess the Amazon server is a little slow.  Or it might have something to do with the hundreds of thousands of new digital products that arrive daily.  Will let you know.

Some of you have asked for a hard copy version… will try to make that happen soon.

Thanks for your support.  I hope your NaNoWriMo is going well, and that my stuff has helped you in some way.

NaNoWriMo eBook Now Available as as PDF is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

Coming Very Soon…

(If your email-delivered or RSS Feed version of this post doesn't display the above graphic — and they often don't – please CLICK HERE or on the title to see it.)

This new ebook will include all of the posts in last month's NaNoWriMo planning series… polished, embellished with new material, and optimized (as in, revised as necessary to fit the flow of a book)… as well as all of the linked reference Storyfix posts from that series… and the ENTIRE ebook-formatted manuscript of my novel, "Bait and Switch" for use as reference and example.

I'm thinking $8.95, about the same as a mass market paperback.  Look for it here soon, available as a PDF download and on Kindle, possibly a trade paperback (slightly more, I'm afraid, those aren't cheap at this end), too.

Thanks to all who have chimed in with support for this project.

Coming Very Soon… is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com