Sunday, October 31, 2010
Nanowrimo
Nanowrimo starts in just over an hour. Am I ready? No! Am I doing it anyway? Yes! Kelsi and Joran are being freed from the dungeon. They are seeing the light of day after six long years. Fresh start, blank page (screen). Better, stronger, faster. The bionic first-book-I-ever-wrote.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
day five and four months later
Okay, so I'm not technically writing on day five, which would have made me actually achieve my goal for writing every day of the conference. However, I am writing about day five, which is nearly the same. (And don't give me grief about it being four months later. I came home to two extra, not-completely-rotten-but-far-from-perfect kids living in my house for the summer. And after they left I had other excuses, not the least of which being the focus of this whole little post here today).
On the last morning of the conference we took turns having one on one time with Brandon out in the hallway where we could ask him questions/talk about our writing/have a staring contest. Because of my deep-seated, long-standing need to become invisible in situations where I feel inadequate, when people were writing down which order we were going to talk to Brandon in, I never really raised my hand. Well, not very high, and certainly not with any kind of vocal attention-getting techniques attached. So I was last. I think everyone was supposed to get something like 8 minutes alone with Brandon, but it's not like there was a timer or anything, and it's not like he's going to quit talking mid-sentence if somebody did come out and tell him exactly when time was up. So by the time it was my turn, I think I had maybe two minutes. I may have taken three. Anyway, while others were taking their turn and I was looking at the clock realizing my turn was going to be extremely short, I was trying to think of the most important question I could ask him. I don't know if I came up with the most important question, but by the time I went out in the hallway, I knew which one was bothering me the most (aside from the obvious 'why did I only get two freakin' minutes?')
So what does Michelle ask well-known, accomplished authors when she has their ear all to herself?
How do you know when it's ready?
That's the question I asked. I finished my dragon story several years ago. I gave it to people to read and they said it was good and to send it out. Now, granted, those people were family and friends, but they were family and friends who actually know a bit about the business of writing. My uncle is an actual editor, though an editor of non-fiction, schoolbook stuff. He said that there was nothing glaringly obvious that needed to be fixed and that any corrections would be personal to the editor who got it and couldn't be guessed at ahead of time. I have to say that makes a certain amount of sense. And Ethan, well, Ethan is co-authoring a book with Brandon Sanderson for pity's sake (though he wasn't at the time, it's true). I did send out one query letter to one editor (both Ethan and my sister knew her and said I should) and though she was not interested, she gave me some suggestions that sent me off on the not-quite-major overhaul. A couple of years after that, I started going to a class/writing group. The teacher was CRAZY about my book. Thought it was the best middle grade fantasy he had ever seen from a completely unknown, never-done-this-before person. I had my manuscript critiqued through chapter four and he wanted to start seeing query letters. I couldn't keep taking the class, so I kind of sat and twiddled my thumbs for a while, then last year I went to the writing conference. An actual author of actual children's books looked at my very own first chapter of my story. And told me to change it. (I should probably note that the very original first chapter was in the real world at bed time, which the editor I sent it to didn't like. She wanted it to start in the magical world to capture the kids right off. The children's book author at the conference thought it was too confusing starting in the magical world, that it needed to start in our world so the kids would be grounded in 'reality' before they went off trying to understand some made-up place.) I went from real world to Hiraeth to real world again, all on the suggestion of other people who didn't quite 'get it' the other way. (For the record, I now have a prologue in Hiraeth and the first chapter in the real world.) And at this conference, this year, they wanted yet another first chapter, which turns out to be the ORIGINAL first chapter, but without the kids going to bed (because who wants to read about that, right?). (Also, Anne was completely right about that. She has been telling me FOR YEARS that she wanted the original first chapter back and thought I never should have left it.)
So, Mr Mull, with all of this conflicting input from people who supposedly know what they're talking about and at the very least are intelligent, what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to know when to send in my manuscript to somebody? When do I stop listening to other people, and how much weight do I give their comments if I do listen to them? (Quite frankly, of all the people who have actually looked at any part of my actual book, Brandon Mull is the ONLY person who writes/edits/does middle grade fantasy. Nobody else has. Either they do fantasy but not middle grade, so they have no idea what is expected of middle grade books, or they do middle grade but totally don't 'get' fantasy. And it really kind of breaks my heart a little bit that I didn't get any real feedback from Brandon about my manuscript. Just a little.)
And now for his answer, which was crazy short (his 'assistant' was standing a few feet away, waiting to take him to lunch, but even so, the answer is so brilliant it wouldn't have taken more time anyway).
He said, DUM DUM DUM--
Trust yourself.
Seriously. Who'da thought?
When your manuscript is as good as you can make it, when you're only making it worse by fiddling around with it, send it out.
And how, Mr Mull, is one supposed to know when that has happened? Well, that's the tricky part. That's getting to know yourself as a writer and what you are capable of, and it comes with time. He said he certainly didn't know those things when he first started sending things out, but now that he's been doing it a while he has a better feel for when he's at that point. And I would dare say that once you have been through the editing process with an editor (or agent, even) you learn things that you really can't pick up on your own.
That answer fits in nicely with the other voice that's been in my head all these years. It comes most loudly from Dave Wolverton (I subscribe to his Daily Kicks) but I've certainly heard it from countless sources. Send out your best stuff. Polish and polish and polish some more. Don't figure that just because you've typed "The End" that it's ready to go.
So that's where I'm at. I've listened to comments and suggestions, which is good, because I've made improvements to my story because of them. However, this time around I am trying to listen to myself more. Am I saying something the best way possible? Is my plot exciting and clear? Are my characters lovable/hatable? Are they growing? Over confidence has certainly never been my problem, but I'm hoping that I am at least developing self-awareness.
On the last morning of the conference we took turns having one on one time with Brandon out in the hallway where we could ask him questions/talk about our writing/have a staring contest. Because of my deep-seated, long-standing need to become invisible in situations where I feel inadequate, when people were writing down which order we were going to talk to Brandon in, I never really raised my hand. Well, not very high, and certainly not with any kind of vocal attention-getting techniques attached. So I was last. I think everyone was supposed to get something like 8 minutes alone with Brandon, but it's not like there was a timer or anything, and it's not like he's going to quit talking mid-sentence if somebody did come out and tell him exactly when time was up. So by the time it was my turn, I think I had maybe two minutes. I may have taken three. Anyway, while others were taking their turn and I was looking at the clock realizing my turn was going to be extremely short, I was trying to think of the most important question I could ask him. I don't know if I came up with the most important question, but by the time I went out in the hallway, I knew which one was bothering me the most (aside from the obvious 'why did I only get two freakin' minutes?')
So what does Michelle ask well-known, accomplished authors when she has their ear all to herself?
How do you know when it's ready?
That's the question I asked. I finished my dragon story several years ago. I gave it to people to read and they said it was good and to send it out. Now, granted, those people were family and friends, but they were family and friends who actually know a bit about the business of writing. My uncle is an actual editor, though an editor of non-fiction, schoolbook stuff. He said that there was nothing glaringly obvious that needed to be fixed and that any corrections would be personal to the editor who got it and couldn't be guessed at ahead of time. I have to say that makes a certain amount of sense. And Ethan, well, Ethan is co-authoring a book with Brandon Sanderson for pity's sake (though he wasn't at the time, it's true). I did send out one query letter to one editor (both Ethan and my sister knew her and said I should) and though she was not interested, she gave me some suggestions that sent me off on the not-quite-major overhaul. A couple of years after that, I started going to a class/writing group. The teacher was CRAZY about my book. Thought it was the best middle grade fantasy he had ever seen from a completely unknown, never-done-this-before person. I had my manuscript critiqued through chapter four and he wanted to start seeing query letters. I couldn't keep taking the class, so I kind of sat and twiddled my thumbs for a while, then last year I went to the writing conference. An actual author of actual children's books looked at my very own first chapter of my story. And told me to change it. (I should probably note that the very original first chapter was in the real world at bed time, which the editor I sent it to didn't like. She wanted it to start in the magical world to capture the kids right off. The children's book author at the conference thought it was too confusing starting in the magical world, that it needed to start in our world so the kids would be grounded in 'reality' before they went off trying to understand some made-up place.) I went from real world to Hiraeth to real world again, all on the suggestion of other people who didn't quite 'get it' the other way. (For the record, I now have a prologue in Hiraeth and the first chapter in the real world.) And at this conference, this year, they wanted yet another first chapter, which turns out to be the ORIGINAL first chapter, but without the kids going to bed (because who wants to read about that, right?). (Also, Anne was completely right about that. She has been telling me FOR YEARS that she wanted the original first chapter back and thought I never should have left it.)
So, Mr Mull, with all of this conflicting input from people who supposedly know what they're talking about and at the very least are intelligent, what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to know when to send in my manuscript to somebody? When do I stop listening to other people, and how much weight do I give their comments if I do listen to them? (Quite frankly, of all the people who have actually looked at any part of my actual book, Brandon Mull is the ONLY person who writes/edits/does middle grade fantasy. Nobody else has. Either they do fantasy but not middle grade, so they have no idea what is expected of middle grade books, or they do middle grade but totally don't 'get' fantasy. And it really kind of breaks my heart a little bit that I didn't get any real feedback from Brandon about my manuscript. Just a little.)
And now for his answer, which was crazy short (his 'assistant' was standing a few feet away, waiting to take him to lunch, but even so, the answer is so brilliant it wouldn't have taken more time anyway).
He said, DUM DUM DUM--
Trust yourself.
Seriously. Who'da thought?
When your manuscript is as good as you can make it, when you're only making it worse by fiddling around with it, send it out.
And how, Mr Mull, is one supposed to know when that has happened? Well, that's the tricky part. That's getting to know yourself as a writer and what you are capable of, and it comes with time. He said he certainly didn't know those things when he first started sending things out, but now that he's been doing it a while he has a better feel for when he's at that point. And I would dare say that once you have been through the editing process with an editor (or agent, even) you learn things that you really can't pick up on your own.
That answer fits in nicely with the other voice that's been in my head all these years. It comes most loudly from Dave Wolverton (I subscribe to his Daily Kicks) but I've certainly heard it from countless sources. Send out your best stuff. Polish and polish and polish some more. Don't figure that just because you've typed "The End" that it's ready to go.
So that's where I'm at. I've listened to comments and suggestions, which is good, because I've made improvements to my story because of them. However, this time around I am trying to listen to myself more. Am I saying something the best way possible? Is my plot exciting and clear? Are my characters lovable/hatable? Are they growing? Over confidence has certainly never been my problem, but I'm hoping that I am at least developing self-awareness.
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