5 Ways I Improved PATH INTO DARKNESS at the Last Minute

By Lisa Alber

I just finished the final, FINAL nit-piks for PATH INTO DARKNESS, coming out in August. Talk about under the wire! The book is at the printer as I write this post. Yay! I'm so grateful for the chance to provide a detailed final proofread, and then quickly proofread my proofread for a sanity check on my final changes. (And, yes, I found four more wee, itty, bitty, teeny, tiny typos ... It could never end, seriously.)

It's amazing how you can always improve a story. I didn't change big things, and some would argue that small changes like the ones I performed couldn't matter that much to the overall reader experience ...

That might be true, because the book has been out in the world as an advanced reader copy for awhile now -- advanced readers seem to be enjoying the story. But still. I'm a proponent of subtle changes for overall improvement in my storytelling. No one else may care. But I do. (But then, you gotta stop. JUST. STOP. after awhile. Let the beast go. Be free, fledgling novel!) 

So, yeah, I put on my nit-pik hat, and this is what I came up with besides leftover typos and awkward word choices and grammatical bloopers:

1. Murkiness factor. Mysteries work because they are purposefully murky until the end of the story. I deleted and adjusted dialog that was too spot-on, i.e. dialogue in which one character was talking with too much clarity. I thought, Wow, that's certainly shining too much of a light on such-and-such character or event or bit of information. In my own writer self-talk, I call this toning it the hell down. :-)

2. Subtle consistency errors. The consistency errors I fixed had to do with proper setup for events that come toward the end of the novel. True, most readers probably won't catch these things, but there is an overall effect as one scene builds on another and on another, and you get to know the characters. Readers are left with feelings about the characters without knowing why all the time. The point for me is not to come out of left field all of sudden at the end of the novel.

3. Lingo adjustments. My novels are set in Ireland, so I try to be conscience of using the correct vernacular. I'm sure I don't catch everything, but, for example, in my final proofread, I changed "steal" to "pinch," "rent" to "let," and "mom" to "mum."

4. Improve the last chapter. I have my wonderful editor, Nicole, to thank for this one. She had made some edits to the final chapter with a passing comment that made me realize that I'd floated off course with one of my subplots. Just a little, but it was enough to bug me. The last chapter didn't hang right. This was with Danny, my detective, having a heartfelt moment with his kids. The final moment, the final decision he's making in this story. And it's a big decision. So, yeah, I adjusted that chapter, and went back and employed number two above.

5. Simplified backstory aspects from the previous novels. One of my eternal questions as a writer of a series is how much of the previous novels' backstories to include in the current novel. I want my novels to standalone as much as possible. For me, this means NOT dumping all the details in from previous novels. I don't like info dumps. That's just me. I prefer to simply not mention past events or background character details that aren't germaine to the current story. For example, the fact that Danny has a dead daughter from years back didn't need to be mentioned -- mentioning this daughter added more question marks than it clarified Danny's character.

So now, having gone through this process, I can finally say that I've done all that I can possibly do to create the best book I'm capable of at this moment in time. Whew!

How forgiving of typos are you when you read novels? (Me, I'm very forgiving now; before writing novels I used to be a hard ass.)

5 Sure Signs That I Can Let Go of My Manuscript (Finally!)

By Lisa Alber

Over the weekend, I read a printed copy of my manuscript for WHISPERS IN THE MIST (August 2016). I read it fast, looking out for loose ends and moot remnants still hanging around from previous versions.

At this point in the writing process, I always know that I'll feel compelled to read the manuscript just one more time before hand off, and I know I'll still find things that need fixing, and I know I'll worry about whether the newest changes have themselves caused inconsistencies (or typos!) that will require me to re-read the manuscript AGAIN ... 

It could go on forever, but there comes a point when I have to let my baby go. Given that I can always continue improving my stories, when do I feel that "yes" feeling about letting a manuscript go?

1. The latest manuscript read-through was mostly clean. Changes were only for clarity, consistency, and pruning. Nit-piks.

2. I have no more questions to myself about nitty-gritty plot points. (My stories are kind of complex.) Yes, all the bits and pieces are there.

3. I've considered every piece of beta reader feedback. I've incorporated what my gut says "yay" about, and I've ignored what my gut says "nay" about.

4. I've gone through a copyedit (as best as I can since I'm not a copyeditor) on my own. I catch a lot of weird prose quirks when I focus on the line-by-line. We all have our easy-way-outs when we're writing. For example, I love m-dashes, but they can be used in place of properly crafted sentences.

This is also when I deal with rhetorical questions, such as this example from a previous draft of WHISPERS:   

Danny still couldn’t fathom why Malcolm had offered up the alibi unless it was to humiliate Danny. But why? Because he was pissed that Danny hadn’t prioritized the graffiti vandalism? Because he didn’t like Danny prying into McIlvoy’s life?

This is just lazy writing. Really. At least for me. A bunch of rhetorical questions in a row tell me I need to go deeper and get to the heart of the matter in a more precise fashion. This might mean adding word count, but that's OK. So now it's this:

Danny still couldn’t fathom why Malcolm had offered up the alibi unless it was to humiliate Danny. He hadn’t prioritized finding the phantom graffiti artist, true, but surely Malcolm understood that vandalism didn’t rate as high as murder.

No, the alibi had to be a good-old-fashioned diversionary tactic. Most likely to distract Danny from prying into Malcolm’s relationship with McIlvoy.

 
5. Last but not least, I've word-searched words I know to be problematic, such as the "just"s and "really"s. Excess adverbs. The verb "was," which could indicate a yucky passive voice sentence or a sentence that needs rewriting with a stronger verb. I have a word list that I keep handy for this tedious, final task.

It's not that I get rid of every "just," "really," and "was" -- but I do consider them carefully. It's so easy to fall back on them -- another easy way out. (Oh, look at that, falling back on m-dashes again!)

Also, during all of this, I'll have noticed other words -- not the usual "blah" words -- that I fell in love with for some reason. For example, while writing WHISPERS, I used "flicker" a lot. Everything was flickering, from candle and sconce light, to gazes, to birds in flight. It was a positive flicker-fest, enough to cause a migraine!

All of this may be tedious, it may add to my writing time, but in end, I love the satisfaction of knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I've done all that I can do.

There's no such thing as perfection; there's only doing the best we can.

Trusting the Process

by Shannon Baker

There are as many ways to write as there are writers. More, in fact, because what works for one writer for one book might not work for the next book. For now, I’ve discovered a method that seems to work for me.

I charge through the first draft without pausing to look back. I set a challenging daily word count and begin at page one and write through until the last chapter. I start off with a fairly clear idea of the plot. I try to use the four part method and have reversals and twists at the appropriate spots. But even with all the planning, the whole boat inevitably sails off the edge of the world. It takes longer to set up scenes than I anticipated or I get a better idea along the way. Sometimes, my initial plot only has a place marker that says something like, she must be betrayed by him and end up at the ranch.

I used to get bent when I didn’t know all the details at the outset. Or if I had a better idea, I’d feel as if I needed to fix the previous pages before I moved on. But I’m teaching myself to trust the process and to forge ahead without any more editing than making notes about what needs to be included or changed. I know that those changes might change again and again before the end of the book so working on them now only slows the process.

What this means is that I can gallop very quickly through a first draft. But when it’s done, I’ve got a terrible mess. It’s the kind of disaster that pops me wide awake at 2 A.M. wondering how it will ever come together. But I soothe myself with the knowledge that it usually does gel at some point and nothing is done that can’t be undone.

Yesterday I finished my draft and today I’m staring at a pile of pages that I know are mostly crap. To be honest, I can’t remember some of the scenes or the clues I placed. I’m terrified to read the drivel I slapped down. Many of those words were grudgingly written with one eye to the word count, bargaining with myself that as soon as I finished the daily goal I could ride my bike or have a cookie. I am not above bribery. Also, I’m not entirely adult.

Hopefully I’ll find something salvageable in the dross. I know the pacing is off because I didn’t hit my stride until about half way through. So I will need to move chunks of exposition from the beginning, punching up the pace, adding clues.

But this first draft is the frame. What I’ll begin with on this second go is adding the rooms and giving it the structure. From there, I’ll put up the drywall by making sure it flows in a cohesive whole. Finally, there will be painting and bringing in the furniture and artwork that will finish it off.

I’ve got a long way to go before this puppy is housebroken. (How many metaphors can I come up with for one manuscript?) But I’ve got one stage down and am feeling hopeful.

What is your process and have you learned to trust it?

Saying Good-bye to My Baby

by Jennifer Harlow

Writing an entire book is like running a marathon (not that I ever have or will run one) or finding out you're about to have a baby, where you start off fast and happy, hit a wall of fear, curse the gods for ever giving you the thought of pursuing this madness, but keep going until the end with renewed vigor, or as I like to think of it, "I made it this bloody far, I will not let anything stop me. I'll show them! Ha ha ha!" So you continue on toiling through the backaches, the sleepless nights trying to figure out what happens next, even through the bloating (though that could just be me) until you get to write those two wonderful words, "The End," and make yourself a large, stiff drink. You’ve earned it. And you’re gonna need it because your baby is finally here...and now comes the hard part.

After the first draft comes the first and second edits, each where you stare at every word trying to figure out if it’s the best choice, second guessing yourself a million times along the way, before you give it to your beta testers, who take their sweet time reading and editing. Then you take their suggestions, edit again, send it to your wonderful agent for her to edit, make the corrections she suggests, edit again, and finally it's ready to shop around. And if the publishing gods deign her worthy, the publisher will have you edit it at least twice more. So "The End" is simply the beginning of a grueling process, almost like raising a child, where you will curse your characters for ever entering your imagination or life in the first place at least once or twice. But you love her regardless, and you solider on to do your best to help her grow.

My baby has gone through so many changes I barely recognize her. She has gone through so many changes since I conceived her seven(!) years ago, I barely recognize her. The beginning chapter I started with is completely gone, characters names have changed, and I don't know how many paragraphs have been shortened or expanded. She (like all cars manuscripts are female) has grown from a seed in my mind to an infant as I did the first draft. All her parts were there, her personality, but she needed shaping to become a productive member of book society.

So through the years I did my best to trim her fat, improve her vocabulary, scream at her when she wouldn't listen to me, and make her the best she could be. (Those teenage years...shudder. I almost gave up on her when I was trying to sell her, but we soldiered through). Now, it's as if she is about to graduate college. She's standing on her own two feet, but still needs her Mommy for a few last bits of advice. That's what I'm doing now with the final edit. Never again will I be able to change words, add to characters, plug in narrative holes, etc. She will forever be out in the world as is for other people to judge, enjoy, or just plain hate. She is her own entity now. I just hope my baby will become President instead of a bum. Regardless, I have to let go. I've done all I can to get her to stand on her two feet, and I am proud of her...though I never want to see her again.

Now…onto her siblings.

***

And for all you F.R.E.A.K.S. fans, check out the e-short published last week featuring your favorite hipster teenage teleporter...

Only $1.99. Buy it HERE.

Editing a Manuscript -- and a Body

 By Beth Groundwater

This month I'm in the throes of trying to reshape two things: the manuscript for my third RM Outdoor Adventures mystery titled Fatal Descent and ... my body. I've noticed some interesting parallels between the two efforts, and I'm wondering if I can apply any of the techniques I'm using for one effort to the other. Also, I'm looking for advice, especially for the body editing effort! The manuscript is shaping up much better that the old bod is.

Trimming the Fat

For my body, I'm cutting out most sweets, sodas, alcohol, and fatty foods and eating lots and lots of fresh organic fruits and vegetables to replace those foods. I'm trying to whittle away the gradual weight gain I experienced over the past few years that has added an expanded tummy I don't need and a pair of thick thighs to go with it. I want to get back into my "skinny me" clothes!

I'm also trying to carve away the fat in my manuscript--the long, overblown descriptions that bore the reader, the excessive whitewater rafting terminology that may confuse the reader, the thoughts that repeat what is already said better in dialogue, gestures, or facial expressions, and so on. The goal is to make the book skinny (lean and mean), so that it contains just what it needs to tell an engaging story and no more.

Adding Muscle

For my manuscript, this means making sure there's sufficient conflict and emotion on the page to provide a meaty and satisfying experience for the reader. it also means making sure that conflicts and emotions are conveyed clearly. In body building, people talk about how "cut" a person is, meaning how well-defined the lines that outline their muscles appear when striking various poses. To have a lean, cut physique, you must have fully developed muscles and minimal fat that softens and hides the shapes of those muscles. Similarly, in my manuscript, I want large, muscular conflict, but if it's hidden in the fat of verbosity, then it's harder for a reader to see and feel that conflict and those strong emotions.

For my body, I'm working on weight-lifting and outdoor exercises such as hiking and biking to build up my muscle volume while at the same time I'm hopefully reducing the fat volume. I want to be stronger, to be able to hike or bike farther and longer and to be able to lift and move with less pain and more agility. I want to be efficient and effective in my movements and to improve my balance. In neither my own body or the manuscript do I want to overly bulk out. I want a natural look--and read--that's pleasing to the eye and is strong enough to get the work done, be it gardening for me or making the reader turn the page for the manuscript.

Increasing Fitness

For my body, this means working on those numbers: keeping blood pressure down, HDL (the good cholesterol) up, and LDL (the bad cholesterol) down. It means avoiding the need to take medications to maintain those numbers. Nutrition, exercise, and stress reduction are all tools for maintaining a healthy body that feels good and goes the distance.

Similarly, I want my manuscript to go the distance, to engage the reader all the way to those two words "The End" and for the reader to come away from the book reading experience feeling good--and satisfied. The numbers to watch here are characters, clues, red herrings, plot twists, etc. I need to have the right amount of each.

Small, Incremental Changes Lead to Big Results

Both of the processes of editing a manuscript and editing a body entail making a small number of tiny changes per day over many, many days to create a meaningful change. They're both tedious processes that can be draining and demotivating--especially when the pounds still aren't coming off or the fight scene is still ponderous. I  try to set small, achievable goals for both. When I achieve one, I can celebrate. When I don't, I try to shake it off and try again the next week.

So, readers, what dieting and editing advice do you have for me? How can I add muscle, cut the fat, and increase the fitness of both my body and the manuscript for Fatal Descent?

The Telling Detail

by Beth Groundwater

Russian author Anton Chekov, 1860-1904, is often called one of the greatest short story writers in history. He is often quoted as saying that short fiction is "the casual telling of a nuclear experience in an ordinary life, rendered with immediate and telling detail." Much thought and discussion has gone into defining what a "telling detail" is, exactly, after he made that pronouncement, and writers have struggled for years to craft those telling details to include in their stories.

A telling detail is the description of some single aspect of an object, person, setting, or action that distills the very essence or uniqueness of what is being described. Upon reading the description of the telling detail, the reader knows what the author needs him or her to know, for the purposes of the story, about the described item. Also, the telling detail often reveals emotion and hidden meaning along with it.

I've recently finished the rough draft of Cataract Canyon, the third book in my RM Outdoor Adventures mystery series and have begun editing the chapters. I have multiple goals for my editing work, but one important goal is to make sure that I have telling details that pull my readers deeper into the story by making them feel they thoroughly know the characters, the setting, and the events in the book.

In describing characters, telling details can reveal what the characters are feeling at the moment, their underlying personality, what they do for a living, or how the POV character feels about them. For example, in the photo below, the age of the book, the lines and hair on the hand, and the way the hand grasps the book tells a lot about the character of the man pictured.


In another example, in the first chapter of Cataract Canyon, my river ranger/guide, Mandy Tanner, and her business partner and lover, Rob Juarez, are checking in clients for a multi-day rafting trip on the Colorado River that will go through Cataract Canyon. Two women step up to the counter, who have similar features but vary in age, so Mandy surmises they are mother and daughter. Then comes the following sentence:

"Contrary to expectation, the daughter wore a loose T-shirt, and the mother’s V-necked stretch top clung to her curves and showed some cleavage."

What does this tell the reader about the characters? Maybe that the daughter is shy and not very confident of her body image. Also, the mother excessively displays her sexuality (this is a river trip, not a night out on the town) and may be on the prowl. Lastly, by Mandy noticing the difference, the reader gets a sense that Mandy doesn't approve of the mother's outfit, because it is "contrary to expectation."

In describing setting, the writer wants o include telling details that make readers feel they are there, experiencing the environment right along with the characters. In Cataract Canyon, early the next morning after checking in the clients, the trip begins with transporting the clients and rafts to the river. Here's how I describe the vehicles:

"The vehicles sat with full gas tanks and engines running, so heaters could warm the interiors. The exhaust steam rising around the dark hunks of steel made Mandy think of hunkered-down dinosaurs, with the prehistoric-looking backdrop of Moab’s looming sandstone formations in the background."

From the description, the reader knows that the morning is cool. The use of the words "dinosaurs" and "prehistoric" are meant to deliberately evoke a sense of the primitive, wild country and geologically rich canyons the travelers will explore. Also, the description is meant to be foreboding and anticipatory, implying that something dangerous is going to happen on this trip.

As a final example of "telling detail," I'll give a description of an event, in this case, unloading the vehicles and carrying everything to the river. Rather than just describing what happened, I wanted to show some emotions and client behaviors that would be important later. Here's what I wrote:

"The whole Anderson family, except for Alex, treated the guides like porters at the put-in. The five of them stood off to the side, talking about the ugly structures of the Potash mine just upstream and taking photos. The others did all of the work, lugging gear and rafts between the vehicles and the river bank. The Andersons didn’t even carry their own personal dry bags down to the river."

The description conveys Mandy's dismay over how the Andersons are treating the guides and shows their disdain for not only the guides, but the environment around them. The use of the word "lugging" shows that the work is hard, and by mentioning gear, rafts, and dry bags, I convey the sense that a lot of stuff had to be moved. This is another aspect of the telling detail, to convey the essence of meaning in as brief a description as possible, so you're not boring the reader.

In the next few weeks, I'll be whittling away at my descriptions, trying to hone them into the evocative shapes that I need. And, I hope my readers will appreciate my efforts when the final book is published. I know that when I read an especially good passage of telling details in a book, I often go back and re-read the passage, savoring it and teasing out how much emotion and information the author crammed into it. A small, well-written "telling detail" can hold as much beauty in the words as the delicate butterfly in the hand in photo below.


Do you have a favorite example of the use of "telling detail" that you'd like to share with the rest of us?

Writing is Rewriting

By Joe Moore

I just finished the first draft of my new thriller, THE BLADE, co-written with Lynn Sholes. This is our sixth novel written together; this one coming in at a crisp 92,500 words. Now that the first pass on the manuscript is finished, the rewrite begins. As E.B. White said in THE ELEMENTS OF STYLE, “The best writing is rewriting.”

Some might ask that if the manuscript is written, why do we need to rewrite it? Remember that the writing process is made up of many layers including outlining, research, first drafts, rewriting, line editing, proofing, more editing and more proofing. One of the functions that sometimes receives the least amount of attention in discussions on writing techniques is rewriting.

There are a number of stages in the rewriting process. Starting with the completion of the first draft, they involve reading and re-reading the entire manuscript many times over and making numerous changes during each pass. It’s in the rewrite that we need to make sure our plot is seamless, our story is on track, our character development is consistent, and we didn’t leave out some major point of importance that could confuse the reader. We have to pay close attention to content. Does the story have a beginning, middle and end? Does it make sense? Is the flow of the story smooth and liquid? Do our scene and chapter transitions work? Is everything resolved at the end?

Next we need to check for clarity. This is where beta readers come in handy. If it’s not clear to them, it won’t be clear to others. We can’t assume that everyone knows what we know or understands what we understand. We have to make it clear what’s going on in our story. Suspense can never be created by confusing the reader.

Once we’ve finished this first pass searching for global plotting problems, it’s time to move on to the nuts and bolts of rewriting. Here we must tighten up our work by deleting all the extra words that don’t add to the reading experience or contribute to the story. Remember that every word counts. If a word doesn’t move the plot forward or contribute to character development, it should be deleted.

Some of the words that can be edited out are superfluous qualifiers such as “very” and “really.” This is always an area where less is more. For instance, we might describe a woman as being beautiful or being very beautiful. But when you think about it, what’s the difference? If she’s already beautiful, a word that is considered a definitive description, how can she exceed beautiful to become very beautiful? She can’t. So we search for and delete instances of “very” or “really”. They add nothing to the writing.

Next, scrutinize any word that ends in “ly”. Chances are, most adverbs can be deleted without changing the meaning of the sentence or our thought. In most cases, cutting them clarifies and makes the writing cleaner.

Next, go hunting for clichés and overused phrases. There’s an old saying that if it comes easy, it’s probably a cliché. Avoiding clichés makes for fresher writing. There’s another saying that the only person allowed to use a cliché is the first one that use it.

Overused phrases are often found at the beginning of a sentence with words like “suddenly,” “so” and “now”. I find myself guilty of doing this, but those words don’t add anything of value to our writing or yours. Delete.

The next type of editing in the rewriting process is called line editing. Line editing covers grammar and punctuation. Watch for incorrect use of the apostrophe, hyphen, dash and semicolon. Did we end all our character’s dialogs with a closed quote? Did we forget to use a question mark at the end of a question?

This also covers making sure we used the right word. Relying on our word processor’s spell checker can be dangerous since it won’t alert us to wrong words when they are spelled correctly. It takes a sharp eye to catch these types of mistakes. Once we’ve gone through the manuscript and performed a line edit, I like to have someone else check it behind us. A fresh set of eyes never hurts.

On-the-fly cut and paste editing while we were working on the first draft can get us into trouble if we weren’t paying attention. Leftover words and phrases from a previous edit or version can still be lurking around, and because all the words might be spelled correctly or the punctuation might be correct, we’ll only catch the mistake by paying close attention during the line edit phase.

The many stages making up the rewrite are vital parts of the writing process. Editing our manuscript should not be rushed or taken for granted. Familiarity breeds mistakes—we’ve read that page or chapter so many times that our eyes skim over it. And yet, there could be a mistake hiding there that we’ve missed every time because we’re bored with the old stuff and anxious to review the new.

Spend the time needed to tighten and clarify the writing until there is not one ounce of fat or bloat. And once we’ve finished the entire editing process, put the manuscript away for a reasonable period of time. Let it rest for a week or even a month if the schedule permits while working on something else. Then bring it back out into the light of day and make one more pass. It’s always surprising at what was missed.

One more piece of advice. Edit on hardcopy, not on a computer monitor. There’s something about dots of ink on the printed page that’s much less forgiving than the glow of pixels. And never be afraid to delete. Remember, less is always more.

How do you go about tackling the rewriting process? Any tips to share?

There Has to Be an Easier Way

by Shannon Baker


Why is writing a novel such a messy enterprise? Maybe it’s not for everyone but for me, it’s like eating an overstuffed taco. You know, the kind where you take a bite and tomatoes plop onto the plate, guacamole smears your nose, juice slides down your wrist and the tortilla shatters, scattering lettuce and cheese all over the table.

This whine is from an accountant who plots on an Excel spreadsheet. I hate messes and redundancy and wasting time. I spend quite a bit of time plotting a novel before I ever type a word onto the screen. But one thing I’ve discovered about novel writing is that no matter how detailed my plots, gaping holes appear like a Flagstaff city street in the spring thaw. Not only that, but characters that begin as figments of my imagination take off on their own and change my carefully laid plans.

That’s why I treat my first draft (not-so-affectionately called Shirty First Draft after our critique partner misspoke Natalie Goldberg’s famous title for bad drafts) as a lark. I do no editing, just write as if the hounds of hell nipped at my heels. I know I will have to make extensive rewrites as I realize what won’t work and/or I get inspired by better ideas.

I finished that Shirty First Draft as the year drew to a close. Some issues nagged at me. So on December 31st, I took MWET (Man With Endless Tolerance) to a sunny patio at a pub and plied him with beers all afternoon while I told him the whole story of my book. I could do this, because I’d written the plot, chapter by chapter, in Excel and printed it out. He listened and drank and drank and listened and drank and drank.

“Here is where I think I need to pump up the danger. And here is where I need a big twist.” I pointed out the weaknesses as I identified them and where I needed his creative mind.

He nodded and ordered another beer. I allowed the book to steep in his mind, hardly bugging him… more than a few times a day. FOR A WEEK!

And then he started. “The villain should…” I answered, “That can’t happen because…” And he said, “Change that to…” And I said, “If she did that, then she couldn’t… and that would change and then the end wouldn’t…” This went of for some time, days, actually.

It turns out, he was right. My Excel spreadsheet tilted and I had to change my method to a cork board and sticky notes, and notebook paper, and napkins and anything else handy. I even stopped at a grocery store to beg paper and pen during a walk because I had one of those idea attacks and feared I’d forget the brilliant twist.



Now, despite my careful planning and writing for a couple of months ago, I’m finally ready to start writing the real book. Messy, redundant, and 80,000 words waiting to be tossed. But this is the book I want to write. I hate that I can’t force my mind to be more organized and well, that I’m just not smarter than I am. But if this is the process that brought me to a better book, in the words of New Age gurus and those way more in tune with the Universe than I, I need to honor it.


For my accountant brain, though, I’ve taken the new plot from that nightmare of a corkboard and translated it neatly into Excel.

What is your plotting process? Does anyone have a surefire way to avoid massive rewrites? If not, have you learned to honor your creative mess or do you fight it?

Oh, @%&^

She's done! The weeks of research, the months of writing, the weeks of typing, the month of editing, it's all done! She is ready to be read by my wonderful Beta testers who will see how splendiferous she is! Huzzah!

Three Weeks Later...

Oh, @%&^. They hated it. They thought the main character was annoying. The male lead was too perfect (meaning no real man would act like that). I kept switching between too much description and too much telling and not showing. The entire first fifty pages were dull and not needed. And the grammar! Oy! Didn't they teach you anything at the baby Ivy college you went to? (Yes, that watching Frat boys play beer pong is not how I want to spend my Friday nights, thank you very much).

Well, did you like anything? Yes. The chapter titles were funny.

Anything else? I liked the character names.

@%&^

What do you do when what you've written isn't that great? Me, there was vodka and three Real Housewives marathons involved. (Kidding about the vodka.) It's hard hearing criticism about something that you spent so much time and effort on. When they're telling me their constructive criticism, I try to put on a brave face while inside I'm considering skewering them with a fireplace poker. (Once again kidding. It was a machete.) Then I watch more Real Housewives, calm down, and think about what they've said and the suggestions they give. Like how to make the hero less of an archetype. Make the heroine have faults instead of her being little miss perfect. See how much of the beginning can be cut away without losing the characterization and world building you presented in those pages to get to the action quicker. Use a thesaurus as much as possible. When in doubt, use a comma. Really ask if you need to describe the leaves on the trees. Then put on your big girl pants and get back to work. (Unless there's a Real Housewives of Atlanta on. Love me some Kim and NeNe.) With every word on the page ask if this is the best choice. Sound like fun? About as much fun as Andy Cohen has at the Housewives reunions. (I think I have a problem.)

Writing is @%&^#*! hard work. Most of my books have gone through at least five edits before I even present it to my agent, who does one more. Right now I'm on the third of the steampunk book I wrote, cutting the first chapter entirely, working eight hours on the current first chapter, twelve on the second, and so on. My main character went from Cher Horowitz in Clueless to a pretty version of Jane Eyre. My hero now smokes, drinks, cusses, and is rude. There is more red ink on the pages than black. As it should be. Nothing comes out of the gate perfect, but if you're smart enough and trust in your skills and vision it can certainly get pretty close.

Publishers are tough. They want something that is come out of the box ready to even consider publishing it. I once got rejected because two character names were too similar and the reader got confused. So though it may hurt, and take bloody forever, editing is probably the most important part of writing. I've learned that 80% of the time my Beta testers are right. As long as you have the backbone of the story and halfway decent characters with potential then all is not lost. Most things can be fixed. And after all the hard work and tears, in the end you get this...

Gotta go! Those Housewives of Beverly Hills won't watch themselves! Oh, and I have some editing to do. :P Till next time!

Jennifer Harlow, www.jenniferharlowbooks.com

Revisions in Oblivion

So I'm working on the last my of revisions for Hide and Snake Murder: Book 2 in the Shay O'Hanlon Caper series. As I'm going along, I come across simple things that I think I will remember from one book to the next, but of course I don't. Things like Boxer or boxer (when it comes to referring to dogs), or AM or A.M. or am?

I did get a style sheet for my first book, but now that I'm cranking away on revisions for the second bbook, do you think I can find it? Of course not. Then a light bulb popped on and I figured I could look in my first book and see how things were done. However, I'm not at home, and don't have a copy with me. So it was a good idea that fizzled fast. Of course, I tried to check the site given to me by my poor, put-upon (by me) editor Nicole (http://www.onelook.com/) but 29 citations came up--both capped and uncapped. So I decided I'll do my best and let Nicole have at it, although I do try and do whatever I can to make it easier for her, and do it right the first time--if possible.

I do have a copy of The Elements of Style, but that doesn't always cover the things I have questions about, especially for subjective stuff that varies from one publishing house to the next. So how do the rest of you keep track of those pesky revision rules...which way this or that is supposed to go, what's capped and what's not, and all the rest of it?

Saying Good-Bye to My Baby

Writing an entire book is like running a marathon (not that I ever have or will run one) or finding out you're about to have a baby, where you start off fast and happy, hit a wall of fear, curse the gods for ever giving you the thought of pursuing this madness, but keep going until the end with renewed vigor, or as I like to think of it, "I made it this bloody far, I will not let anything stop me. I'll show them!" So you continue on until you get to write those two wonderful words, "The End," and make yourself a large drink. Your baby is here...now comes the hard part.

After the first draft coomes the first and second edits before you give it to your beta testers, who take their sweet time reading and editing. Then you take their suggestions, edit again, send it to your wonderful agent for her to edit, make the corrections she suggests, edit again, and finally it's ready to shop around. And if the publishing gods deign her worthy the publisher will have you edit it at least twice more. So "The End" is simply the beginning of a grueling process, almost like raising a child, where you will curse your characters for ever entering your imagination or life in the first place at least once or twice. But you love her regardless, and you solider on to do your best to help her grow.

There is so much else that goes into getting the book from the first draft to the last as I pointed out. But yesterday I started the final, final, final edit of "Mind Over Monsters." She has gone through so many changes since I started it seven(!) years ago I barely recognize her. The beginning chapter I started with is completely gone, characters names have changed, and I don't know how many paragraphs have been shortened or expanded. She (like all cars manuscripts are female) has grown from a seed in my mind to an infant as I did the first draft. All her parts were there, her personality, but she needed shaping to become a productive member of book society.

So through the years I did my best to trim her fat, improve her vocabulary, scream at her when she wouldn't listen to me, and make her the best she could be. (Those teenage years...shudder. I almost gave up on her when I was trying to sell her, but we soldiered through). Now it's as if she is about to graduate college. She's standing on her own two feet, but still needs her Mommy for a few last bits of advice. That's what I'm doing now with the final edit. Never again will I be able to change words, add to characters, plug in narrative holes, etc. She will forever be out in the world as is for other people to judge, enjoy, or just plain hate. She is her own entity now. I just hope my baby will become President instead of a bum. Regardless, I have to let go. I've done all I can to get her to stand on her two feet, and I am proud of her...though I never want to see her again.

Now onto her siblings.

And We Think We've Got it Tough

by Vicki Doudera

Two hundred and thirty-five years ago, Thomas Jefferson awaited the vote for independence with trepidation -- not because he did not think the measure would pass -- but because he knew that with the vote would come another round of changes to the "original Rough draught" of his document declaring independence from England. Like any writer, Jefferson loathed editorial criticism, so the thirty-nine revisions requested by Congress on July 2, 1776, were not easy to swallow.

Jefferson had been appointed, along with Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Roger Sherman, and Robert Livingstone to the committee tasked with writing the document, and then promptly designated by the others as the worker bee. Writing in secret in Philadelphia, he labored in private for days creating a "composition draft." He then made a "fair" copy of the declaration and presented it to the others. Revised first by Adams, then by Franklin, and then by the full committee, forty-seven alterations (including the insertion of three additional paragraphs) were made to the document before the rest of Congress even saw the thing.

We who toil with the craft of writing know how hard it is to accept changes to our carefully crafted words. I think back to a professor in college who took me to task saying I had to learn "the fine art of paragraphing." At the time I was annoyed, but oddly enough her advice comes back to me, and I sense she had a point. Hopefully Jefferson, toiling away in that sweltering city, believed that at least some of his colleagues' changes improved his "draught."

What editorial comments have been hard for you to swallow? Did you declare them insignificant, or insightful?

Happy Independence Day to all.

Misunderestimating, by Jess Lourey

I was recently reminiscing with a friend about a gentleman we both worked for. He has since risen very high in the world and is now the commanding general of the ROTC for the state he lives in. At the time we worked for him, he was just our boss who had a bad habit of assuming everyone saw the world the same way he did. My favorite illustration of that was relayed to me by Catherine, who speaks Spanish and went on a church trip to Mexico with him as his translator. On their third day, the two of them presented to 60 teenaged girls who wanted to learn about volunteer opportunities in the U.S. My boss, thinking to set them at ease, told them he was happy to be there. They received this well. He told a couple jokes,which Catherine translated, and the whole audience erupted in laughter and applause. Encouraged and possibly suffering from jet lag, he next told them that they were foxes. My friend Catherine slid him a look, but he was too caught up in the positive energy, so she shrugged and translated, "he thinks you are small furry rodents.” The 17 year-olds are all WTF? as he is leering appreciatively at them, and he moves on from there, having completely lost his audience.

Language barriers (and lack of personal filters) can cause a lot of misunderstandings. For example, there is the “Ladies are requested not to have children in the drinking lounge” in a Norwegian bar, or “Drop your trousers here” at a Bangkok dry cleaner. In writing fiction, though, misunderstandings are more subtle, as I’m reminded every time I get my manuscript back from my fabulous friends and family who edit for me. Sections I thought were funny are…not. I was also advised to remove “BFF” and “WTF” from my most recent manuscript by my mother, who said many people will not know what they mean. I had a horrible character say a horrible thing, and I was told by several people that the horrible thing was so offensive that it took their breath away, in a bad way. They said it was too jarring for a humorous mystery.

I listen to everything they say and play it against my internal rubric. I know, most of the time, what good writing looks like and what bad writing looks like. It’s just that when it’s my own, it’s hard to see the difference. Until someone points it out to me, that is. I end up making most of the changes recommended to me by editors because most of the time they’re right.

My question to you is, how do writers tell the difference between what must stay and what should go?

Neatness Doesn't Always Count

Cricket McRae

Yesterday I cooked.

I made beer-cheese soup. Brown the sausage, drain. Brown carrots, onion, celery. Add chicken stock. Simmer. Add grated raw milk cheddar dredged in flour, salt, pepper, Worchestershire, dry mustard, sausage and a bottle of Sierra Nevada pale ale.

Kind of made a mess.

I made bread. Easy peasy if you use the method in Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day, which I highly recommend. But I mixed enough starter to last for two weeks. In a bucket. With my hands.

Messy.

Then there was the butter. Call me weird, but I like cultured butter but I don't like to pay eight dollars a pound for it at Whole Foods. So I mix piima culture into a jar of local cream and two days later let the standing mixer beat it to death until I get butter. And buttermilk. The real stuff. Salad dressings, pancakes ... mmmm.

Simple, but it can get a little messy.

This weekend I worked on a new writing project. First draft stuff. Notes all over my desk, stacks of books with post-its poking out, character's names changing from page to page, a notebook full of clustered plot ideas.

A real mess.

Lengthy descriptions here, not enough detail there, so many adverbs I'm surprised they didn't spill off the computer screen. Too many of the qualifying words that are my weakness -- just, only, sometimes, quite.

Blech. Such a mess.

This weekend I cleaned the kitchen. Wiped down the counters and the cupboards, scrubbed the sink, swept and mopped the floor. I did the dishes and scoured pans and shined up the appliances.

And this weekend I edited some work I wrote last week. Trimmed words, clarified dialog, rearranged awkward grammar, added sensory detail, eliminated an entire scene and sketched out a new one.

Last night I ended up with good food, and hopefully good prose. And watched the Broncos game, recorded from earlier in the day. Which was a real mess.