The International Thriller Writers (ITW) hosts Thrillerfest in NYC the second week of every July. On Sunday, I returned from the Thrillerfest V, elated and excited and a bit apprehensive.
First, a little about the organization. ITW was originally for published thriller writers of all sub-genres, as well as the lofty goal of being a “readers” group. I think the organization has moved solidly into the thriller writers camp, but with one big exception: the organization makes a concerted effort to reach readers, librarians, booksellers and other industry folks and does an amazing job promoting not only thriller writers, but the thriller genre as a whole.
I’ve always felt welcome in ITW, even though I write what’s marketed as “romantic suspense.” I put that in quotes only because everyone and their brother has a different idea what romantic suspense is and what it isn’t.
(I have my own personal definition of romantic suspense—a hero and heroine working together or parallel to solve a crime or save the world, and they are together—and alive—at the end of the book. Other than that, anything goes—sexy or tame; gritty or light; humorous or serious. I don’t like RS rules because there are so many of us writing RS that I think RS has become it’s own genre, not purely in the suspense camp and not purely in the romance camp. But that’s a subject for another blog . . . )
ITW has developed into a truly amazing entity. They have so many opportunities for authors to promote themselves, both paid and unpaid. They have an monthly e-newsletter that goes to tens of thousands of thriller readers. The board continually develops new and innovative programs to expand the organization but more important, the published authors who make up the bulk of the membership.
ITW’s Mission is “To bestow recognition and promote the thriller genre at an innovative and superior level for and through our Active Members; to provide opportunities for mentoring, education and collegiality among thriller authors and industry professionals; and to grant awards for excellence in the thriller genre.”
You can join ITW as an associate if you are not published by an ITW recognized publisher (though they have a very liberal recognition policy.) Full members can join for free. Free? Yes, I mean it! If you are a published author, you pay no dues. How can this be? Because the anthologies where members write original stories fund the organization.
Currently, there are four or five anthologies on sale now, the two biggest being THRILLER (edited by James Patterson) and THRILLER 2 (edited by Clive Cussler) published by MIRA. A YA Thriller Anthology will be published by Tor in the Fall. I’m the managing editor of THRILLER 3 (edited by Sandra Brown) which boasts a terrific line-up of bestselling and award-winning romantic suspense and thriller authors. Most recently, 100 MUST READ THRILLERS went on-sale. I have an essay on REBECCA by Daphne du Maurier in the non-fiction anthology, the book most often considered the true launch of the romantic suspense genre.
Another amazing program that was announced at the banquet was the USO inviting thriller authors to go to Iraq. Steve Berry and James Rollins are two of them (who I know personally) and I am thrilled with this, not least of which is to help our troops. Like RWA has the Literacy Signing, ITW supports Reading Is Fundamental. Half the profits from the YA thriller anthology (edited by R.L. Stine) is going to RIF.
Because the organization is formed with tiered membership, ITW isn’t bound by many of the restrictions RWA has. But more than that, I find it a place where I fit, even though I have a foot rooted firmly in both the romance and thriller genre.
I’m not writing specifically to plug ITW—though if you want to join, here’s the link!—and the organization isn’t perfect (what organization is?) but they provide access to authors and opportunities that I haven’t found elsewhere. It started in Arizona in the heat of the summer in 2006, shortly after my first book came out, where I was lucky enough to meet some amazing people and forge new personal and professional friendships. Because it’s small—more like a regional RWA conference than a national conference—it feels more intimate and people are generally open and friendly, including some big-name authors like Harlan Coben and Ken Follett and Lisa Gardner (who won the Thriller for Best Hardcover!) and Lee Child and Steve Berry and Lisa Scottoline and Carla Neggers . . . and I could go on.
Thrillerfest offers workshops similar to RWA in that they have both craft and career tracks. But they differ in that two days are focused on “Craftfest” aimed to unpublished and newly published authors; and two days are focused on “Thrillerfest” aimed at both published and unpublished authors, as well as readers and other industry folks. You can buy a package for everything (at a discount) or piecemeal it and attend for just a day or one “fest.” NYC is expensive, and breaking it up makes it doable especially for those who can get to the city for a day trip.
I have a confession: I only attended part of one panel, other than the panels I served on. Why is this so sad? Because there were at least six that I really wanted to listen to. But I was in NY partly on business this time around—my agent hunt (which was successful!)—and because of meetings missed a lot.
I presented my “No Plotters Allowed” workshop at CraftFest. I was surprised anyone at a thriller conference would show up because honestly, I’ve met more thriller writers who plot (though certainly not all—Tess Gerritsen doesn’t plot, Harlan Coben said in a blog interview that he very loosely outlines, and sometimes doesn’t outline at all, and of course there’s me, the insane one, just sitting down and writing with a vague idea and sense of character . . . ) Fortunately, the workshop seemed well-received and I had people coming up to me throughout the week to discuss something I said that resonated with them. Yeah! Not a failure!
I was on a paranormal panel with former MSW contributor Heather Graham (an amazing author and woman, I’ve always enjoyed her books and she’s very fun on panels!) called “Why be Normal when you can be Paranormal?” Jonathon Mayberry, who writes both fiction and non-fiction, made the point that there is so much out there in mythology that we can write paranormal stories from here to eternity and still have relatively original and fresh material, if we know where to look. For example, there are different vampire myths among peoples of different countries and times, and research is just as important when writing paranormal as it is writing a straight thriller.
The next panel I served as Panel Master. Unlike RWA, the “Panel Master” (or moderator) also participates in the panel while leading the panel, creating questions, taking questions, and shaping the discussion. I never thought I’d like to be the moderator (too much pressure!) but I found I truly enjoy it and it’s almost like running a board meeting—I’m fairly competent at keeping people on task and summarizing audience questions so we move quickly. I was the Panel Master of “Is Social Networking a Waste of Time?” I had some absolutely terrific panel members, including publicists and authors who successfully use social networking. The conclusion? SN is here to stay, but find the medium that works best for you, your schedule and your personality. Be smart about it, and don’t let SN drain your creativity. If you are an awful blogger; don’t blog. If you find you fritter away time at twitter, learn to limit yourself. The authors on the panel firmly believed that twitter (and facebook) sells books . . . I am still undecided, but I believe that if you focus on doing what you enjoy, you’ll cultivate your readership, please your fans, and hopefully those fans who enjoy your blogs or twitter posts will be the ones to spread the word about your next book. But drive-by promotion is a big no-no, because readers know. That’s why you need something you can consistently do, on schedule (whether it’s blogging monthly or tweeting twice a day for ten minutes or checking into facebook at breakfast, lunch and dinner.)
There was an industry panel I missed called “Can we innovate more?” where ITW brought in major house publishers and big name authors to discuss what authors can do to help publishers sell books. I can’t wait to get the tape. Another panel that competed against one of mine was “Why do thrillers kick ass?” with Steve Berry, Carla Neggers, Ridley Pearson et. al. There was a panel devoted to innovation with e-books with authors and marketing people who have had successful promotions of e-books. A panel just on forensic thrillers moderated by Dr. D.P. Lyle (I have most, if not all, of his non-fiction books about forensics for writers.)
ITW also has spotlight guests, which are amazing sessions where popular authors are interviews. This year, they included Lisa Scottoline and Harlan Coben. Ken Follett is the new Thriller Master. And then the debut author breakfast, MC’d by Andrew Gross with a motivational speech by Brad Meltzer. I love this breakfast, even though I have to drag myself out of bed early for it on Saturday morning . . .
And then of course, there’s the bar . . . which is worth the price of admission!
Now there are always negatives to any organization or people, but honestly, the positives outweigh the downsides, and if you write thrillers of any sub-genre, I strongly suggest ITW as the group to join.
I wish I could offer more insight from the panels, but since I didn’t attend most I can’t. If you have questions, please ask! (The big talk across the board while chatting was e-books—some authors are selling up to 50% of their books in e-book format, but most hardcover authors are at 20-30% total sales via e-book and mass market authors are much less. It really depends on your format and distribution. The business is certainly in flux, but change isn’t always a bad thing as long as you make decisions out of sound business analysis and not fear.)
I still go to RWA, and I still find immense value in the organization. It’s larger, the networking is amazing, and I get to see all my friends If you write romance, RWA is definitely the place to be. And since I write romantic suspense, I can’t imagine not being part of both organizations. After Orlando, I’ll write about RWA!
My eighth grade daughter Kelly is an avid reader and will soon be launching her own blog when her mother finds ten minutes to put it together for her . . . she’s well-read in YA, loves historical, paranormal, and contemporary, and has well-formed opinions about a whole host of things, including what makes (and doesn’t make!) a good story. She prefers stories on the darker side, as you can see from her recommended YA reading list below. Like mother, like daughter perhaps? I saw this in her at the early age of eight, however, when she started reading the Lemony Snickett SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS books and said she loved them “because bad things happened and they didn’t have a happy ending.”
Kelly is now reviewing YA novels for RT Book Reviews, and she’s taken over my blog today. Last time, I wrote about my take on YA novels. Below is all Kelly with very minor editing by me, her mother. I didn’t even take out the naughty words she used, because as writers and readers know, voice is everything and I think this article shows that Kelly has a very strong voice all her own.
Here is what she thinks you should know BEFORE writing YOUR YA novel . . .
As an avid YA reader, I’ve read a wide variety of YA authors and story plots. I’ve seen vampires, witches, werewolves, romance, history, teen drama, you name it. I’ve been reading YA since I grew out of Junie B. Jones, and I appreciated a lot more when I was younger. But now the YA market is really driving me up the wall! I don’t know if it’s the authors people are choosing to rave about, publishers publishing books in that market that really weren’t meant to be there, or just less respect for the really good novels targeted to my age group. But the biggest fad I’m really noticing, is adult authors writing for YA. Done well, this could be a good thing. But more likely than not, it leaves a lot of young people annoyed. Adult authors, I’ve noticed, who do well in the YA market are the Fantasy type, because their main focus is that: fantasy. But I’ve yet to find a romance writer that can really pull off a fairly decent YA novel. Why, you ask? Well, before you even consider stepping near the YA genre, read this first …
For starters, if your writing successful novels for adults, and ADULTS love them, that’s probably a good place for you to stay. If you find that a younger audience is attracted to your work, than yeah, YA is something to consider. But here are a few suggestions from someone in your target audience:
Don’t Talk Down To Your Audience
One thing that I get extremely annoyed with is when adult authors (usually romance) talk down to their audience. It’s sort of like reading a how-to book in origami when you’ve been doing origami your whole life. Authors often ‘over enunciate’ plots, meaning they will repeat things over and over, and the plot seems babyish. Everything is over described, from what they’re doing at that very moment to every movement and hand gesture they make when talking. Big page filler for sure.
Basically, authors are afraid to really delve into the story and make it interesting, because what’s going through their head is “YA YA I’m writing for YA.” They will sugar-coat life and make it flowery, and sometimes just write it the way they remembered life at that age. They’ll cover the basics. I sometimes would really like to love an author’s story telling ability, because most of the time, it’s pretty good. But it’s this talking down to that really has me at my hair’s end. One thing I can’t stress enough is to not think about your audience! I would, and probably a lot of other readers, rather read an author that is complex and interesting that should be pulled back a little than an author that sounds like they’re writing for 3rd graders. If you think you’ll struggle with this, I suggest writing a smart ‘clean adult novel’ and then fixing it up a bit for YA, or if you think you’ll do better writing for a “lower” audience, market for the younger kids’ section.
Avoid Too Much Dialogue
Again, something you should not do is make your book entirely dialogue based. It usually is boring and uninteresting.
Language Dos And Don’ts
My parents are usually pretty ok with what I read as long as it’s not super explicit, and probably a lot of other parents too. And I’ve yet to find a YA book that shows anything like explicit sex and language. But as writers repeat the mantra “YA I’m writing YA”, what comes to their mind is using language that they think teenagers are more likely to use. For example, instead of saying, ‘bull shit’ they’ll use “bull poopie” or instead of “fucking” they’ll say “effin’” Things like that aren’t terrible, except when they’re overdone. I think most people would be surprised at the language us youngin’s use today. Adults tend to think that they need to modify every word that comes out of their character’s mouth to be ‘acceptable’. That doesn’t mean throwing curse words all over the page, but it also doesn’t mean sugar coating it the way you think teens should talk, because, more likely than not, we don’t talk like that. Instead, think about your character. Are they more likely to swear (big time), use clean swear occasionally, or not at all? If you’re making all of your characters look like little kids trying to be like their big sisters, it not going to be interesting. My one piece of advice about language is to either use it, or don’t use it at all. What I don’t mind is when authors, trying to get their book to be appropriate for every audience, will say lines such as:
As I was about to tell him to go to a place he wouldn’t need that fat mouth of his to go to…
She spat some colorful language and then doubled over…
Or if you’re going to use it, use it:
Shit, that asshole totally fucked with her.
What the hell are you doing?!
You get the idea.
Write Believable Characters
As in any novel, characters are the most important part of a great story. Writing characters in YA books is no different than writing about adults. The worst thing you could possibly do with character development in a YA novel, or any novel for that matter, is to make every character stereotypical to the role they play in the book. For example, making your main character the ‘average’ girl and pushing that factor farther than it needs to go. When there’s nothing different or interesting about the characters and they don’t grow and develop as the book(s) go on, then the plot will go nowhere. Like I said with the language concept, every character is different; they talk, react, and act upon certain situations than maybe another 16 year old girl in the story would. Stamping a label on your characters isn’t real at all because in real life, everyone knows there’s more than just one label on a person. Teenagers change and mature in their lives, so if your series goes on long term, be sure that the reader sees how they’ve changed in a relatable way. They could change by the way they speak, react, and handle situations. Otherwise, it’s just boring, and again, a little babyish. Some of you may be thinking “Well, duh, of course I wouldn’t write my characters like that!” but you’d be surprised at how many books do this. If you’d like an example, here’s an average scenario I’ve seen in too many YA books to count:
Average, everyday girl with long dark hair, doesn’t really fit in, not popular but not geeky either, has best girl friend who is super pretty and popular and gets all the guys. Has cute kind of nerdy guy friend who she is or will fall in love with and thin pretty mom who has done so much that she’ll never do. [insert tramatic experience here] happens and they are trying to deal. Oh, look! Super mysterious super-hot guy comes along! She’d never have a chance with him but she is oh-so intrigued and drawn to him…but look! She discovers she has some mysterious scary power herself!
If any part of your story resembles three or more of the scenarios above, I would consider thinking your story through a little more.
You might ask why authors reuse and reuse this plot, and trust me, it’s definitely not just adult authors who do it. Two words: It’s easy. Not many authors realize this, but it just shows that the author is not creative enough to think of a hard-core, complex story. Why is it so easy? You have the average girl, who can relate to all readers. Every reader can see themselves inside that girl, no matter who she is or what clique she’s in. The reader can relate to not always being in the spotlight, or being in it when she doesn’t want to be. Having a huge crush on the guy friend she’s known all her life, being jealous of other girls, stress with doing well in school, living up to parents potential. All just a part of puberty and growing up. And once you get to the mysterious hot boy aspect, you should do successful with non-avid readers, young adult and adult for sure. Because every person wants to be that girl. To bring themselves up from where they are in life even if it’s kind of hard. Doesn’t everyone want to discover something they would never know could be possible about themselves? Whether it’s power to see the dead, becoming a vampire, getting magic witch powers, and in the end falling in love. That’s what every girl wants to see happen in her life. Basically, it’s her own fantasy, the fantasy no one every talks about with their friends, =is always in the back of her mind, hoping that she will be that Bella Swan and fall in love and make something of herself. It’s human nature.
So, back to book selling, what will happen when girls can relate? It will get published and sell. But it will never stand out from anything else out there. Never give anyone a different ambition. So, this was not to persuade you to write or not write this basic plot, just to show why it sells and why authors do it, and most importantly, why you should step away from that and write something more creative.
If you didn’t realize it after reading this, which you most likely have, is the fact that readers don’t want to see a cut-and-paste life with sprinkles on top. So many YA authors are great story tellers, and I want to love their stories, but just the fact that they’re writing isn’t for the right market brings it down. A lot of it isn’t even the writing itself, just the plot. A lot of authors, even though they can argue otherwise, are following the Twilight suit. More than ever adult authors are trying to make it into YA hoping for the success of Stephenie Meyer (I’m not saying this literally, if you’re a writer, you write to write, not for fame or money) and even though they don’t realize it, most of them are following in her footsteps.
Paranormal Romance is pretty much the genre dominating all things YA. And let me tell you: It. Is. So. Annoying.
Have you walked into the YA section of Borders lately? If so, you’ve seen the huge TWILIGHT-dedicated shelf, and right below, the sign that reads, “If you like Twilight you’ll also like…” and all the not-paranormal-romance-books are crammed into a corner, on their own lone shelf, while everyone rants and raves about the writing that’s just, well, not always as great. My point is, if you really have your heart set on this genre, do it WELL. Make it different from all the other pop culture books dominating the high shelves. If you’re more interested in the romance than the paranormal, write romance. Do NOT just throw the paranormal in as a side note, because a lot of fantasy lovers will be very disappointed. If you love the fantasy aspect, again, do not throw the romance in because it will more likely than not just seem awkward. Make the reader say “Hey, I didn’t think of it that way…” and make it a challenge for yourself. But, if I were writing, I’d step away from that sparkling, inviting market to do something more interesting.
Now my whole point of this blog was not to trash authors trying to make their way into YA, not at all. This is just what I‘ve found annoying in a lot of authors that do. I guess you could call them Tips from a Reader Who Knows. If you think you’d be more successful with adults, just stick to that market, but if you’re making your way to YA, make it different, make it new, interesting, and consider some stuff I’ve said here.
Books I like and why I like them
My mom told me I could not post books that I didn’t like and why I disliked them, but that she wanted to me to be positive instead. I’m fine with that (ha ha.) One thing that would be helpful if you’re writing YA, is to do your research and read lots and lots of YA novels, such as the ones I list here.
GOING BOVINE by Libba Bray (class of its own)- This is one of my recently favorite books of all time. It’s a genre all its own. All crazy unexpected twists and turns full of laughs and tears, it’s the perfect YA read. I highly suggest this to anyone looking for a really good novel.
Libba’s Gemma Doyle trilogy (fantasy/historical), beginning with A GREAT AND TERRIBLE BEAUTY, is a great historical/fantasy story, another one of my favorites that I’ve re-read.
UNWIND and EVERLOST by Neal Shusterman (sci-fi/thriller)- Definitely another one of my favorites, his books are placed in a sci-fi fantasy world that perfectly mixes real life issues that teens go through everyday in a smart and fascinating way. Yet they’re so broad pretty much all ages can read them. I highly recommend him.
BLEEDING VIOLET by Dia Reeves (fantasy/romance)- I reviewed this one for RT magazine and gave it 4 stars. This is a perfect example of paranormal romance done right. Hanna is most definitely not your average girl, and the romance doesn’t over power the dark, thrilling, horrific fantasy. Comes out January 2010. Definitely an author to watch for!
LAMENT and BALLAD by Maggie Stiefvater (fantasy)- A mostly fantasy based story, but definitely written in a beautiful, lyrical way, with a little romance thrown in perfectly. Both books in different POV’s, the first Dee, an introduction to the faerie world, and her best friend James, which gets more in depth with him and his relationship with Dee and the fay.
CITY OF GLASS trilogy by Cassandra Clare (action/fantasy/thriller)- an action packed demonic trilogy that’s definitely one of my favorites. A great example because for one, she’s an adult author, and on her website, she says the series was originally for adults, but the characters evolved into teenagers.
Any of Sarah Dessen’s novels (romance/drama)- If you ever even consider writing anything in the YA genre, you must read her books first. Her books are unique and address problems that any teenager can relate to and understand. Typically, her books have the same idea (girl struggling, meets different and unique guy who helps her through it, finding he has problems of his own) but each one is so unique, and the characters evolve in such a way that her stories are such a pleasure to read; anyone would adore her.
SPEAK and WINTERGIRLS by Laurie Halse Anderson (drama)- If you haven’t heard of her, you must be living under a YA rock. A wonderful and talented writer, her books are wonderfully crafted in a wonderful yet tear-jerking way, the first with a girl struggling to find her voice, the other with a girl struggling with eating disorders after the death of a friend. Must reads.
EVERMORE (The Immortals series) by Alyson Noel (fantasy/romance)- Again, paranormal romance done right. Ever is not your average girl, being a popular blond before an accident that killed her family and gave her psychic abilities. Her relationship with Damen balances the fantasy in a perfect way, never overriding it but combining it. In RT, I gave SHADOWLAND, the third in the series, a Top Pick.
THE FETCH (historical/paranormal) and A CERTAIN SLANT OF LIGHT (Paranormal/drama) by Laura Whitcomb- Great writing and original, interesting stories.
Kelly has to go to school–mid-terms this week!–but she’ll be back tonight after basketball practice to talk more about books and what she likes (and doesn’t like!) Feel free to ask her (or me) questions–she’s very well and widely read in the YA genre (and younger books as well) When considering trying out for the middle school basketball team, Kelly said, “I’m just afraid that practice will take away from my reading time.” Gotta love that girl!
It’s been a little over forty-eight hours since the announcement that Harlequin has joined in a self-publishing venture with Author Solutions, a vanity press.
I don’t want to quibble over definitions, so for the purpose of this article I use “self-publishing” and “vanity press” as meaning any book that an author pays to produce. Call it what you will, but the money is flowing FROM the author to a printer (I hesitate to say “publisher” because that’s insulting to the reputable publishers.)
There are legitimate reasons to self-publish a book. A family history, for example. Many schools use self-publishing as a fundraising tool, such as an annual recipe book or collections of stories written by students. Some small churches will self-publish prayer books. And sometimes, authors who have been rejected across the board but (and I stress the BUT) have had impartial and repeat praise for their work might turn to self-publishing as an alternative. It’s a viable alternative when there is an established audience.
But if you self publish, you need to know what you are facing. Spending thousands of dollars on your book before it is printed. Spending your money on marketing, promoting and publicizing your book. Buying up copies to sell to your friends and family. Spending hundreds of hours being a bookseller, a marketer, a retailer–hours that would be better spent writing your next book.
If you are a writer who checks their email daily, you have seen the messages about Harlequin Horizons, the self-publishing arm of Harlequin Enterprises. You know what it’s all about, so I’m not going into detail here. You can read about it here, here and here. And that’s two of three links that are Harlequin information and responses. Here’s Writer’s Beware on the matter.
But here’s the scoop:
* Harlequin has created a self-publishing imprint called “Harlequin Horizons” which requires that you, the writer, pay to have your book published. There are a variety of options starting at $599, plus 50% of net proceeds. So not only do you pay to produce and print your book, you’re splitting the royalties as well. They have no risk–you have all the risk. Yet they still get 50% of every copy sold. After YOU pay to publish the book. Does anyone else see something wrong with that?
* If you submit a manuscript to Harlequin and they reject it, they’ll send you a little note suggesting self-publishing–and Harlequin Horizons–as an option.
* Harlequin has stated that they are not using the Harlequin brand on the Horizons books, that they are simply using the Harlequin name to entice writers to consider self-publishing their romance novels using the services they provide through the vanity press Author Solutions.
$599 is the bare minimum cost. It goes up–WAY up–from there. For example, if you want an “Editorial Review” that’ll cost you $342. Okay you’re thinking–$342 is a very reasonable price to have your manuscript edited. Think again. This covers the first chapter only. You want line editing? That’s .035 cents a word. Content editing? Another .042 cents a word. Or get the whole package–evaluation, content and line editing for .077 cents a word. That’s $7,700 for a 100,000 word novel.
Then there’s marketing, book trailers, review copies, and a host of ala carte services. But they also offer packages which include some or all of their services.
Let’s say you buy the basic $599 package, but want the full editing. $8300. You have a trade book printed at $15 cover price. You think that $15 is yours?
Think again.
There is a cost to printing. Notice that Harlequin Horizons only pays you 50% of net proceeds. What is net? Hmm, don’t know. In traditional publishing, the retailers generally “pay” half the cover price. So a $15 book is $7.50 to the retailer and $7.50 to the publisher. Out of the $7.50 to the publisher, they pay for printing, overhead (editorial, cover design, marketing, shipping, etc) and $1.125 per book to the author at a 7.5% standard royalty rate for trade.
There is a cost to print the book POD (which is higher per book than a mass printed novel), e-tailers who sell (i.e. Amazon) take a portion, etc. But let’s be generous and say that the net proceeds are $10 on a $15 book. You, the author, get $5. Yeah! You’re already making nearly five times more money per book than the schmuck who goes the traditional publishing route.
Except, you need to sell 1,660 books to recoup your hard outlay to get that book in print. That doesn’t include your website, ads, etc where you need to try to SELL your book to the public because your book will not be distributed. How will people find your book on Amazon? You need to drive them there. How? LOTS of money, time and hard work.
I am not picking on Harlequin specifically, though it may seem so because they are under the gun right now with this venture. And honestly? They should be. Harlequin is a fantastic brand that has proven to be the face of romance. They publish quality romance novels at an affordable price and appeal to a mass audience around the world. Yet now they are diluting their brand, IMO, by printing self-published books. Because you know that every one of those authors who self-publishes will put on their website and promotional material that they are a Harlequin Author.
Romance Writers of America made a very brave and ballsy statement to the industry by removing Harlequin from its recognized “eligible” publishers–essentially limiting the perks available to Harlequin at RWA expense at conference. I commend RWA and its board of directors for standing up for writers of all genres, and romance writers in particular.
Money flows TO the author. Repeat as needed anytime you get the urge to give someone money to publish your book. Or listen to Harlan Ellison:
I went over to Nathan Bransford’s blog this evening with the title: You Tell Me: Why Are So Many People Writing Books These Days? I posted a comment which said that perhaps instant communication has just spread the news so more people SEEM to be writing a book, when in the past–pre-Internet (remember those days? I do. My kids don’t.)–no one knew who was writing and who wasn’t.
I’ve been writing nearly my entire life. Why? Because I couldn’t NOT write. It’s the way God made me. I love to write, even when I hate it. I love stories, even when I’m pulling my hair out because I can’t get a scene right. It’s part of me like my eye color–it’s in my genes. I am a writer.
Are more people writing a book? Probably. Why? Because they think it’s easy to get published. And guess what, it is. If you have the money, you can be published. Can you sell those books? Who knows? But you can be “published.” Or, rather, printed.
How many times have we heard: “I could write a book if I only had the time.” My answer? Bullshit. (Pardon my French.) Writers MAKE the time. We would rather write than sleep. When I started seriously writing in 2002–meaning, I stopped playing around and decided to focus on becoming a better writer and finishing a book–I gave up television, I gave up a couple hours of sleep, and I created a block of time to write and learn and improve and screw up and write some more.
How many times have we heard: “Writing’s easy.” Really? Easy? Finish a book, edit the book, get an agent, sell to a publisher (who pays you) and then tell me it’s easy. And I have news for you (okay, not YOU, faithful readers of MSW, who already know this) but it doesn’t get any easier.
How many times have we heard: “My book is better than the crap publishers are putting out” or “Readers just want to read junk.” Ahem. Publishers publish books to make money. Readers buy books to be entertained or learn something they want to know. Publishers make money when they sell to a large audience, hence the phrase (not the format) “Mass Market” or “Mass Audience.” There is a market for niche books, and small press and e-press are filling those spots very nicely–with books that the authors don’t have to pay to produce (over and above our hard expenses of computer, paper, postage, and chocolate or wine–you know, the necessities for writers.)
There is an easy way to be published–do it yourself with your own money. Write the book, edit the book, print the book, market, distribute and publicize the book. But that doesn’t make you an author. It makes you an author/editor/printer/marketer/distributor/publicist.
Writers write. Editors edit. Publicists publicize. Pick your profession and be the best at it you can be. But if you are promoting and selling your books? That’s time away from your writing, and you’ll never get better if you don’t write.
Most of the regular readers of this blog know about how a book becomes a book: a writer writes it and revises it in her own way. Then she submits it to her editor and often (or, in cases like me, every time) does a round of editor revisions. Then the book goes to the editor for line edits, then production for copy edits, then back to the author to review and make changes, then to production for galleys/proofs, then back to the author for a final read/minor changes, then back to production for printing. For more on the process, you can read this blog I wrote at Romancing the Blog a couple years ago.
For fun, I thought you might like to see the evolution of a scene. Or, rather, a partial scene. I wanted to do the beginning of Chapter Three, where my hero Rafe walks into an occult ritual because the beginning is relatively short, but apparently that was where the copier jammed and I don’t have 20 pages of my proofs. So this is the opening of Chapter Two, ORIGINAL SIN.
WARNING: This will be a long blog! But I hope you’ll learn a bit about the writing and editing process.
January 26, 2010
ORIGINAL SIN
CHAPTER TWO
SCENE ONE (in part)
MY FIRST DRAFT
Moira jolted awake, her breath coming in gasps, her heart racing. The nightmare faded so rapidly that every time she tried to focus on a detail, it disappeared like a wisp of smoke. But the fear that clutched her was real.
It wasn’t a nightmare, it was a vision. She hadn’t been asleep, she’d been meditating, following the advice of Father Philip to block everything worldly out and just listen. How many times had he told her to trust her instincts? So she had focused, trying to learn when Fiona was opening the gateway. But the meditating wasn’t working, it never worked, and she’d fallen asleep. At least that’s what she told herself.
And now it was happening. Where had she gone wrong? She knew the place, but not the day. She should have staked out the site every night. But it had terrified her during the day, and how could she anticipate the night?
The artificial yellow lights outside the cheap motel cast shadows through the slit where the curtains didn’t quite meet, so similar to every other cheap motel room she’d slept in. They blended together Helena to Topeka to Fayette to Hermes to Santa Louisa, and a dozen towns in between. Only now she was in the right place, but she was too late.
Too scared.
She slid out from between the sheets, clothed in a T-shirt and panties. She switched on the desk lamp, pulled on her jeans and tossed the sweat-soaked T-shirt in a plastic bag. No time to shower–she had to get to the coast. Now.
How the fuck was she going to stop Fiona? She had no back-up, few tools, little information. Father Philip hadn’t figured out what the gateway would bring forth, and without that knowledge she might as well be sprinkling holy water on Satan himself. A little sizzle and burn with no staying power.
But she couldn’t let Fiona go through with the ritual. It would end in murder. It always did.
The invisible mark on her neck burned.
Moira pulled a black turtleneck over her head, then a leather coat Rico had given her. Special pockets for special things.
“I’m not a hunter,” she’d told him holding the jacket as if it were on fire.
“No, you’re a huntress,” Rico said. He pushed her chin up. “Despero caveat, mei amica. Despair means no hope, and there’s always hope. Despair lets them in.”
Anger fueled her fear. Despair had no fear, it had already given up. But anger and fear were more volatile emotions that could be used against her. She just didn’t know how to control them.
She grabbed her bag and a opened the door. Something moved. She quickly stepped back into the shadows of her room as she sensed more than saw someone approaching through the dense fog. Her knife was in her hand before she knew it, sweat on her brow. She knew what she had to do to kill a demon; she just hadn’t done it yet. It was extremely difficult outside of a controlled environment–like the monastery–to kill the demon and not the human being it possessed. And even then, survival of the victim or the exorcist was not assured. She wanted no more deaths on her conscience.
There was only so much that intensive training could do. Experienced trumped the classroom every time. But what choice did she have? Fiona was here because Moira made a deadly mistake. A mistake she wouldn’t make again.
REVISED DRAFT
You’ll see that in this final revision, I fleshed out the scene, added more information and layers. Part of this was due to changes in the prologue that were better here, and partly because my editor felt she didn’t understand the backstory early enough, so the beginning (opening 3-4 chapters) were hard to follow. So I moved some things around and better incorporated the backstory. A confused reader is bad!
Moira jolted upright, her breath coming in gasps, her heart racing. The waking nightmare faded so rapidly that every time she tried to focus on a detail, it disappeared like a wisp of smoke. But the fear that clutched her was real.
It wasn’t a nightmare, it was a vision, just like the vision she’d had ten weeks before. But far more vivid than anything she’d ever seen in her head before.
For a long moment, she forgot where she was as she willed her heart to slow, willed herself to regain control over her fear. The motel room was the same as so many that came before it. The smells, the sounds, the yellow lights and worn sheets. The days had rolled into weeks and Moira barely acknowledged the passage of time. They blended together Helena to Denver to Fayette to Hermes to Santa Louisa, and dozens of towns, big and small, in between. Now she was in the right place—but too late.
Too scared.
“Santa Louisa,” she whispered in the dark. She hadn’t lost her mind, amazing.
She’d arrived in the small central California coast town nearly a week ago, and had stayed because she sensed this was it. Her research, and her senses, told her the gateway to hell was right here.
It had been broad daylight when she’d first arrived in Santa Louisa. On the Internet message board she frequented that discussed supernatural phenomena, she’d “met” a teenager who described cliffs that seemed too much like the ones in her vision to be a coincidence. He’d been concerned because a fire had destroyed a house and there’d been odd “things” going on. Because he’d been vague, she’d contacted him—learned his name was Jared Santos—and everything he told her confirmed that these were the cliffs of her vision. She headed to Santa Louisa immediately.
The cliffs—the ruins of the destroyed house–terrified her during the day, frightening images and thoughts flooding her mind.
She’d stood in a place where evil radiated from the ground like heat from a furnace set on high.
Evil surrounded her. Evil didn’t float in the air, it was the air. The earth didn’t smell like earth, it reeked of the dead, of terror, of lost souls clawing through moldy dirt, trying to escape their fate. She’d passed dead birds, rodents, a poor innocent dog as she neared the center of the ruins on the cliffs. Her heart strained, told her to leave, but she looked down, and for a second that seemed to last forever, she saw a river of fire beneath the surface. Felt the heat rising, the soles of her feet burning, and she’d run.
That first night, in the dark, she’d hid in the cypress, waiting, the fear clawing at her but she forced herself to stay, hoping—and fearing–her mother would show.
Fiona hadn’t come, no one had, and the following day Moira had contacted Father Philip, told her what she’d learned about the cliffs. About the fire and the two deaths inside the house. That the house had been completely destroyed was suspicious enough—especially in this weather—but portals could only be opened through human sacrifice.
Father Philip was confident that the coven would act on February first or second, one of the four high sabbats in pagan witchcraft depending on which calendar they were using. More than enough time for Rico to join her, along with other demon hunters under his command, and they’d stake out the cliffs en masse. Father asked her to watch, be diligent, and she had been. Or so she’d thought.
But it was happening now. How could she face her mother and whatever evil she had summoned and defeat it? Alone?
How could she not?
She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that right now—at this very moment—Fiona was on those cliffs finishing what she’d started more than two months before. Two months? Try forty-eight years. Forty-eight hundred years, longer—since the first covens in ancient times. Fiona was the one who was successful.
“Shit,” Moira muttered, “that’s going to go straight to her head.”
She slid out from between the sheets, clothed in a T-shirt and panties. She switched on the desk lamp, pulled on her jeans and tossed the sweat-soaked T-shirt in a plastic bag. She had to get to the cliffs. Now.
How the fuck was she going to stop her mother? She had no back up, few tools, little information to go head to head against Fiona. Father Philip hadn’t figured out what the gateway would bring forth, and without that knowledge she might as well be sprinkling holy water on Satan himself. A little sizzle and burn with no staying power.
But she couldn’t let Fiona go through with the ritual. It would end in murder. It always did.
The invisible mark on her neck burned.
Moira pulled a black turtleneck over her head, then slid into the handmade leather coat Rico had given her. Special pockets for special things.
“I’m not a hunter,” she’d told him holding the jacket as if it were on fire.
“No, you’re a huntress,” her trainer said. Rico pushed her chin up. “Despero caveat, mei amica. Despair lets them in. Despair means no hope, and there’s always hope.”
Anger fueled her fear. Despair had no fear, it had already given up. But anger and fear were more volatile emotions that could be used against her. She didn’t know how to control them, and that lack of control had screwed her big time often enough in the past to force her to stop a minute, breathe deeply, remember that there was more at stake tonight than her life.
If she failed, the covens would continue to grow stronger, more powerful, aided with demons at their side. St. Michael’s Order would be in great peril. One by one, Peter’s brothers-in-arms would die. Horribly. Violently. Painfully.
Move it, Moira. Stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself.
She grabbed her bag and opened the door.
Something—someone–moved.
She quickly stepped back into the shadows of her room as she sensed before she saw the person approaching through the dense fog. Her knife was in her hand before she knew it, sweat on her brow. She knew what she had to do to kill a demon; she just hadn’t done it yet. It was extremely difficult outside of a controlled environment–like the monastery–to kill the demon and not the human being it possessed. And even then, survival of the victim or the exorcist was not assured. She wanted no more deaths on her conscience.
There was only so much that intensive training could do, even with Rico—the best instructor the Order had—in her corner. Experienced trumped the classroom every time. But what choice did she have? Fiona was here because Moira had made a deadly mistake. A mistake she couldn’t make again.
FINAL PRODUCTION DRAFT
(After editorial input and further revisions–you can see that I layered in more detail, cut repetition, tightened parts, and expanded the scene. To cut a step, I went ahead and incorporated the line and copy edits into this draft as well.)
Moira jolted upright, her breath coming in gasps, her heart racing. The nightmare rapidly faded but the terror that clutched her held on tight.
It wasn’t a nightmare, it was a vision, just like the terrible one, she’d had ten weeks before. But this was far more vivid than any she’d ever experienced.
For a long moment, she forgot where she was. She willed her heart to slow, trying to gain mastery over her fear. This morning’s motel room was the same as so many before it. The stale smells, the strange thumps, the yellow lights and thin sheets. Days had rolled into weeks with Moira barely acknowledging the passage of time, blending together Helena and Denver, Fayette and Santa Louisa, and in between dozens of towns, big and small. At last Moira was in the right place.
“Santa Louisa,” she whispered in the dark. The town wasn’t far from the mission massacre Father Philip had told her about. She realised now that she should have headed here directly after the phone conversation. If only she’d known the mountains in eastern Santa Louisa were a mere thirty miles from the Pacific Ocean!
She’d arrived in the picturesque central California coastal town nearly a week ago, and had stayed after acutely sensing this was the place. Her research and her finely-tuned senses told her the gateway to Hell was here.
On the Internet message board she regularly frequented that discussed supernatural phenomena, she’d encountered a teenager who described cliffs in the area that seemed strikingly similar to those in her vision. He’d been concerned because a mysterious fire had just destroyed a local house and there’d been other odd things going on. His name was Jared Santos. Everything he told her confirmed that these were the cliffs of her vision. She’d immediately headed to Santa Louisa.
The cliffs—the ruins of the destroyed house–terrified her even in harsh daylight. Frightening images and thoughts flooded her mind.
She’d stood in a place where evil radiated from the ground like heat from a furnace set on high.
Evil surrounded her. Evil didn’t float in the air, it was the air. The earth didn’t smell like earth, it reeked of the dead, of terror, of lost souls clawing through moldy dirt, desperate to escape their fate. She’d passed dead birds, rodents, a mutilated dog as she neared the center of the ruins on the cliffs. Her heart strained, told her to leave, but she looked down, and for a second that seemed to last forever, she saw a river of fire beneath the surface. She felt the heat rising. The soles of her feet burning, she ran.
That first night, in the dark, she’d hid among the cypress, waiting, the fear gnawing at her. She forced herself to stay, hoping—and fearing–her mother would appear.
Fiona hadn’t come. No one had. The following day, Moira had contacted Father Philip and told him what she’d learned. About the fire and the two deaths inside the house. That the house had been completely destroyed was frightening enough. Even worse, Moira knew that portals like this could be opened only through human sacrifice.
Father asked her to stay on site and watch, to be diligent, and she had been. Or so she’d thought.
Surrounded by energy so evil Moira began to shake, Fiona spoke. Moira could see nothing else, nothing but her mother’s flaming red hair, everything obscured by a smoky curtain that Moira couldn’t penetrate. Dark shapes took form within the curtain, whether human or demon she didn’t know. The gates of hell were opening and Moira was too late.
Dammit, no! She couldn’t be too late. Father was certain Fiona wouldn’t act until the first of February, when the worlds were naturally closer. Moira had agreed, but they were wrong.
It was happening now. How could she face her mother and whatever evil she had summoned and defeat it? Alone?
Yet how could she not?
She sensed beyond a shadow of a doubt that right now—at this very moment—Fiona was on those cliffs finishing what she’d started more than two months before. Two months? Fiona had been seeking immortality her entire forty-eight years, continuing the journey that started with the first covens assembled in ancient times. But Fiona was the first witch to come close.
“Shit,” Moira muttered, “that’s going to go straight to her head.” She couldn’t let her succeed.
She slid from between the worn sheets, clothed in a blue T-shirt and black panties. She switched on the desk lamp, pulled on her jeans, then tossed her sweat-soaked T-shirt in a plastic bag.
How the fuck was she going to stop her mother? She had no backup, few tools, and little information to go head to head against Fiona. Father Philip hadn’t figured out what the gateway would bring forth, and without that knowledge Moira might as well be sprinkling holy water on Satan himself. A mere sizzle within an apocalyptic inferno.
She couldn’t let Fiona go through with the ritual. It would end in murder. It always did.
The mark on her neck burned.
Moira snapped on a bra and pulled a black turtleneck over her head, then slid into the custom made leather jacket Rico had given her. With special pockets for special things.
“I’m not a hunter,” she’d told him, holding the jacket as if it were on fire.
“No, you’re a huntress,” her trainer said. Rico pushed her chin up. “Despero caveat, mei amica. Despair lets them in. Despair means no hope, and there’s always hope.”
Anger fueled her fear, both volatile emotions that could be used against her. She didn’t know how to control them. That lack of control had screwed her big time in the past often enough to force her to pause now and breathe deeply. She remembered that there was more at stake tonight than her life.
If she failed, the covens would grow even stronger, more powerful, aided with demons at their side. St. Michael’s Order would be in great peril. One by one, Peter’s brothers-in-arms would die. Horribly. Violently. Painfully.
Move it, Moira. Stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself.
She grabbed her bag and opened the door.
Outside, something—someone–moved.
She quickly stepped back into the shadows of her room as she sensed before she saw a person approaching through the dense fog. Her knife was in her hand before she knew it, sweat on her brow. Though she’d yet to do it alone, she knew how to stop a demon. It was extremely difficult outside of a controlled environment–like the monastery–to banish the demon and not kill the human being it possessed. And even then, survival of the victim or the exorcist was not assured. She wanted no more deaths on her conscience.
There was only so much that intensive training could do, even with Rico—the best instructor the Order had—in her corner. Experience trumped the classroom every time. But she had no choice at this point. Fiona was here because Moira had made a deadly mistake. A mistake she couldn’t make again.
PAGE PROOFS
Now indulge me one more time–taking the final draft above, which is how it was in the page proofs (the final galley stage), I made further tweaks. So you can see why, I including my thought processes and showed my changes below:
Moira jolted upright, her breath coming in gasps, her heart racing. The nightmare rapidly faded but the terror that clutched her held on tight.
It wasn’t a nightmare, it was a vision, just like the terrible one, she’d had ten weeks before. But this was far more vivid than any she’d ever experienced.
For a long moment, she forgot where she was. She willed her heart to slow, trying to gain mastery over her fear. This morning’s motel room was the same as so many before it. The stale smells, the strange thumps, the yellow lights and thin sheets. Days had rolled into weeks with Moira barely acknowledging the passage of time, blending together Helena Ft. Lauderdale and Denver Ocean City, Fayette Astoria and Santa Louisa, and in between dozens of towns, big and small. At last Moira was in the right place. I changed the cities because Moira knew from the vision that she had in the prologue, that the place she was looking for was on a coast. The cities I’d originally written aren’t. Duh.
“Santa Louisa,” she whispered in the dark. The town wasn’t far from the mission massacre Father Philip had told her about. She realised now that she should have headed here directly after the phone conversation. If only she’d known the mountains in eastern Santa Louisa were a mere thirty miles from the Pacific Ocean!
She’d arrived in the picturesque central California coastal town nearly a week ago, and had stayedremaining after acutely sensing this was the right place. Her research and her finely-tuned sensesinstincts told her the gateway to Hell was here in Santa Louisa. These changes were primarily to tighten and to clarify.
On the Internet message board she regularly frequented that discussed supernatural phenomena, she’d encountered a teenager who described cliffs in the area that seemed strikingly similar to those in her vision. He’d been concerned because a mysterious fire had just destroyed a local house and there’d been other odd things going onoccurances. His name was Jared Santos, and everything he told her confirmed that these were the cliffs of her vision. She’d immediately headed to Santa Louisa. Again, to tighten and clarify. My line editor put in the word “just” and I let it stand in the copy edits, but when I read this out loud I didn’t like it so cut the word.
The cliffs—the ruins of the destroyed house–terrified herMoira even in harsh daylight. Frightening images and thoughts flooded her mind whenever she went new the place. Again, tighten and clarify. My line editor put in the word “harsh” and I let it stand, but there isn’t any harsh daylight in fictional Santa Louisa at the end of January. This is the Central Coast of California. Daylight is gorgeous, and there’s lots of fog.
She’d stood in a place where evil radiated from the ground like heat from a furnace set on high. Makes it more immediate.
Evil surrounded her. Evil didn’t float in the air, it was the air. The earth didn’t smell like earth, it reeked of the dead, of terror, of lost souls clawing through moldy dirt, desperate to escape their fate. She’d passed dead birds, rodents, a mutilated dog as she neared the center of the ruins on the cliffs. Her heart strained, told her to leave, but she looked down, and for a second that seemed to last forever, sheMoira saw a river of fire beneath the surface. She felt the heat rising. The soles of her feet burning, she ran.For clarity.
That first night, in the dark, she’d hid among the cypress, waiting, the fear gnawing at her. She forced herself to stay, hoping—and fearing–her mother would appear.
Fiona hadn’t come. No one had. The following day, Moira had contacted Father Philip and told him what she’d learned. About the fire and the two deaths inside the house. That the house had been completely destroyed was frightening enough. Even Worse, Moira knew that portals like this could be opened only through human sacrifice.
Father asked her to stay on site and watch, to be diligent, and she had been. Or so she’d thought.
Fiona spoke. Surrounded by energy so evil, Moira began to shake, Fiona spoke. Moira could see nothing else, nothing but her mother’s flaming red hair, everything obscured by a smoky curtain that Moira couldn’t penetrate. Dark shapes took form within the curtain, whether human or demon she didn’t know. The gates of hell were opening and Moira was too late.Copyeditor made a good catch with that first sentence and switched the phrases, since that paragraph was one I’d inserted after copyedits they’ll make a pass that I don’t see until proofs.
Dammit, no! She couldn’t be too late. Father was certain Fiona wouldn’t act until the first of February, when the worlds were naturally closer. Moira had agreed, but they were wrong.
It was happening now. How could she face her mother and whatever evil she had summoned and defeat it? Alone?
Yet how could she not?
She sensed beyond a shadow of a doubt that right now—at this very moment—Fiona was on those cliffs finishing what she’d started more than two months before. Two months? Fiona had been seeking immortality her entire forty-eight years, continuing the journey that started with the first covens assembled in ancient times. But Fiona was the first witch to come this close.
“Shit,” Moira muttered, “that’s going to go straight to her head.” She couldn’t let her succeed.
She slid from between the worn sheets, clothed in a blue T-shirt and black panties. She switched on the desk lamp, pulled on her jeans, then tossed her sweat-soaked T-shirt in a plastic bag.
How the fuck was she going to stop her mother? She had no backup, few tools, and little information to go head to head against Fiona. Father Philip hadn’t figured out what the gateway would bring forth, and without that knowledge Moira might as well be sprinkling holy water on Satan himself. A mere sizzle within an apocalyptic inferno.
She couldn’t let Fiona go through with the ritual. It would end in murder. It always did.
The mark on her neck burned.
Moira snapped on a bra and pulled a black turtleneck over her head, then slid into the custom made leather jacket Rico had given her. With special pockets for special things.
“I’m not a hunter,” she’d told him, holding the jacket as if it were on fire.
“No, you’re a huntress,” her trainer said. Rico pushed her chin up. “Despero caveat, mei amica. Despair lets them in. Despair means no hope, and there’s always hope.”
Anger fueled her fear, both volatile emotions that could be used against her. She didn’t know how to control them. That lack of control had screwed her big time in the past often enough to force her to pause now and breathe deeply. She remembered that there was more at stake tonight than her life.
If she failed, the covens would grow even stronger, more powerful, aided with demons at their side. St. Michael’s Order would be in great peril. One by one, Peter’s brothers-in-arms would die. Horribly. Violently. Painfully.
Move it, Moira. Stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself.
She grabbed her bag and opened the door.
Outside, something—someone–moved.
She quickly stepped back into the shadows of her room as she sensed before she saw a person approaching through the dense fog. Her knife was in her hand before she knew it, sweat on her brow. Though she’d yet to do it alone, she knew how to stop a demon. It was extremely difficult outside of a controlled environment–like the monastery–to banish the demon and not kill the human being it possessed. And even then, survival of the victim or the exorcist was not assured. She wanted no more deaths on her conscience.
There was only so much that intensive training could do, even with Rico—the best instructor the Order had—in her corner. Experience trumped the classroom every time. But she had no choice at this point. Fiona was here because Moira had made a deadly mistake. A mistake she couldn’t make again.
Well, um, after re-reading this I realized I’ve bared my soul to you all! From my first, very rough draft to the final galley . . . but if anything, I hope I show you the importance of both writing–getting the story out–and revising, and revising some more. I love revisions, both mine and then incorporating my editors suggestions or responding to her comments. Many authors have said that writing is really revising. I wholeheartedly agree. But the most important thing to do FIRST is get the story down on paper. Without writing the story in the first place, there’s nothing to revise.
Good luck to all the NaNoWrMo participants! Leave a comment for a chance to win WHAT YOU CAN’T SEE, the novella that has the prequel to ORIGINAL SIN (and fabulous stories by our own Roxanne St. Claire and Karin Tabke!)
I know a lot of people who pick up the bible, open it to a random page, put their finger down, and read the verse. Then they contemplate what the verse means to them and their life, or pray, or maybe they try again because they didn’t like the first one!
Last year my son wanted to learn new words so he would open the dictionary and randomly pick a word and memorize the definition. This lasted, um, maybe a week. Or less. But he’s a smart kid. He has study hall for one hour on practice days where he’s supposed to do his homework. Other kids may groan, but not Luke. In third grade, they get their homework packets on Monday and they are turned in on Friday. Luke thinks, “Great! I’ll get all my homework done the first day and then I can play.” Well, he does get his homework done the first day, but he can’t play in study hall. Hence, the note I was sent home last week where he wrote, “I will not laugh or talk in study hall” twenty times.
I’ve suggested he read the dictionary. That didn’t go over too well. He now brings a book. Much better.
But I digress.
So since I’m a little punchy from lack of sleep as I’ve had a few late nights finishing ORIGINAL SIN, which goes into production on Monday (Yeah!) I thought it might be fun to pick advice from one of my favorite craft books and see if I can apply it to my writing life.
From SAVE THE CAT by Blake Snyder
I opened up to the section called “ALL IS LOST” and specifically to the line:
“And the thing you show dying, even a goldfish, will resonate and make that All Is Lost moment all the more poignant.”
The ALL IS LOST moment is supposed to come around page 75 in a screenplay of 110 pages. That’s roughly 70% into your story which is probably the end of Act II or the beginning of Act III. For my 580 page manuscript, that’s roughly page 400. So I glanced at that chapter . . . Yep. It’s a major “All Is Lost” moment. No one dies per se, but the beginning of that chapter two characters are in the morgue and they have a major revelation–a key clue that sets them on the right trail, even though they don’t know where it’s going to lead. The end of the chapter another character discovers that a very important character has been kidnapped–and the kidnapper leaves a disturbing message.
I suppose the morgue is my “death” (they’re studying three bodies, after all!) and kidnapping is pretty dang bad as well! Literally, they lost someone.
Yeah me! And I didn’t even plot it out that way. (My outlining buddies can go pound salt. Ha ha.)
What about you? Pull out the book you just finished reading or writing and multiple your total pages by .7 to give you the rough page number where your ALL IS LOST moment should be. Did the book achieve that? Did you plan it?
THE WRITERS JOURNEY by Vogler
I love this book, and no I don’t use it to plot, but I do look at my book as a whole after the fact when I’m editing and when I hit a rough spot in the manuscript I have a few questions I ask myself, usually related the the points of the heroes journey.
The page I flipped to (I used the 3rd edition because my 2nd edition is worn and creased and opens to very specific pages . . .
Pg 87
THE ORDINARY WORLD: CONTRAST
It’s a good idea for writers to make the Ordinary World as different as possible from the Special World, so audience and hero will experience a dramatic change when the threshold is finally crossed.
This has always been a hard one for me to conceptualize because when I think Special World, I think of the example Vogler uses: the Wizard of Oz. Black and white into Technicolor. But then I see that all good books have this distinction, though it’s not as vivid as the Wizard of Oz. In PLAYING DEAD for example, Claire’s ordinary world is being a PI and believing her father is guilty of murder. The special world is when she uses her PI skills to investigate something she never truly believed: her father’s innocence. It’s an emotionally different world for her. In SUDDEN DEATH, Megan Elliott physically leaves her security and authority as SSA in Sacramento and travels to Texas where she is not in charge and confronting different “rules” than she is used to, in order to find out who killed a homeless veteran.
Again, consider the last book your finished reading or writing, can you see the difference between the character’s ordinary and special world?
Stephen King’s ON WRITING
I’ve read this book twice and listened to it on my iPod. Great stuff.
Pg. 177 (trade version)
After King shares a writing sample about description, I randomly pointed to this sentence:
“There are plenty of details I could have added–the narrowness of the room, Tony Bennett on the sound system, the Yankees bumpersticker on the cash register–but what would be the point? When it comes to scene-setting and all sorts of description, a meal is as good as a feast.”
Great advice! Long descriptions bore me. At least now they do. Set the stage and get on with the story. But I know other readers who love meaty descriptions. What about you? Cut to the chase or spare no detail?
SELF-EDITING FOR FICTION WRITERS by Renni Browne and Dave King
This was the only craft book I ever bought before I sold. I read it cover-to-cover before editing several of my books, and I could probably use another read. Here’s the advice I pulled out with my magic finger:
And, as you might expect, interior monologue is so powerful and easy to write (though not easy to write well) that many fiction writers tend to overuse it.
Aw, yes. Interior monologue. My editor is always asking me for more. Sometimes I overdo it, I think, and I try to edit this ruthlessly in the copyedits. Great advice. What do you readers think of interior monologue? Who does it really well?
THE FIRE IN FICTION by Donald Maass
This is the newest book in my craft book collection. I haven’t finished reading it, but I went to half his session at the RWA conference and it sounded intriguing, and writers can ALWAYS learn. Sometimes we get stuck doing things the same way, or we get pressured and stifled by deadlines that we forget the feelings the story is supposed to produce, not only in the reader but in the author. And I love the title.
pg. 162
In all the examples above, notice that what makes monsters scary is what makes them human. Indeed, the trick of frightening readers has always been to first make the world of the story highly believable, then gradually add what is weird. From Wilkie Collins to H.P. Lovecraft to Shirley Jackson to Stephen King to Joe Hill, what is scary is not the buildup of what is supernatural but the buildup of what is real.
Wow. I have a winner. Amazing, that is just what I needed to hear. Especially, the last line: “what is scary is not the buildup of what is supernatural but the buildup of what is real.”
Maybe this exercise is not a waste of time! Play along with me. Either answer my questions above or pull out a book on your shelf, flip the pages and point. Maybe the advice you point to is perfect for you . . . or someone else here at Murder She Writes.
My good friend Alexandra Sokoloff, who blogged here the other week, commented once over at Murderati that everyone plotted to a certain degree, and that my first drafts were actually a detailed outline.
Right. All 80,000 words of my first draft in a book that usually ends up around 105,000 words.
At first, I was willing to concede the point, but recently I was struck by the fact that I really don’t plot my books.
It’s not a method of writing I recommend or don’t recommend. It’s simply the way it is. I give a workshop called NO PLOTTERS ALLOWED where I tell people that one of the biggest disadvantages of well-meaning writers is to tell others how to write. I’m not talking about basic grammar and spelling and genre story arc issues–like you don’t kill off the heroine in a romance or leave the primary murder unsolved in a murder mystery–but physically how a writer should pen the novel.
Some write long hand. Some use Word. Some specific writing software like Scrivener.
Some of us plot detailed outlines. Some of us write by the seat of our pants. (I, personally, hate the term “pantser” and refuse to use it.) Many are somewhere in between. In my workshop, which I developed with the incomparable bestselling author Patti Berg, we tell people when they’re stuck, try every way out there–because sometimes we are pigeon-holed early on and think we have to do it one way because it’s the right way.
There is no “right” way to write when it comes to plotting or organic writing. There is, however, a “right” way for you. Discovering the process that works best for you (and I say “works best” because often the best way is still rife with struggles and problems and head-banging) may take awhile. And it may take trying new approaches to writing, either changing the degree of plotting, changing the genre focus, even changing your writing location or the software you use.
The single most important thing to remember is that as long as you’re making forward progress, as long as you’re writing toward THE END–and make it there!–then you’re a success. Why? Because for as many people out there who say they could write a book if they only “had the time”, only a handful of us even attempt it. And of those who attempt it, only a handful actually finish a book they started.
I don’t like plotting because I don’t like feeling tied to a storyline. My characters become real, I see them, hear them, experience their feelings. How the hell am I supposed to know how they’re going to react to a plot point if I haven’t gotten to know them yet? And I don’t really know them until I cross the first threshold (in Vogler-speak.)
I can write a decent synopsis, as long as no one plans on using it for anything. Case in point: I have to write a “one-pager” for the copy department, usually when I’m about halfway done with my book. Sometimes sooner, if the art department wants more than the paragraph I submitted earlier. I write my one-pagers like detailed back-cover copy–I know my characters names (usually) and occupations and the major set-up. I use lots of juicy adjectives that don’t really mean anything but set the tone and often throw in cool-sounding stakes that I have no intention of using. Then I write an ending–usually something like, “They nearly die, kill the bad guys, and live happily ever after.”
One teeny problem with this approach came up in CUTTING EDGE when I thought the book was about a killer targeting bio-tech scientists. I was certainly shocked when I got into the killer’s head and realized the true motivation and target. Hence, the back-cover copy had to be tweaked a bit at the last minute. And you could have knocked me over with a feather when I discovered–when halfway done–my heroine’s backstory. I then wrote the prologue. Up until then, the prologue was crappy and I hated it. I dumped that and wrote my longest prologue to date–nearly 20 manuscript pages. But it set up everything so well you’d have thought I planned it.
I didn’t. I had no idea. When I went back over the first half of the book expecting to have major rewrites, I ended up only tweaking a few things because it was all there–I just didn’t know it at the time.
I start with a premise, an idea, a “What if . . . ?” and go from there. That’s why my first chapters take so long to write. I often have to think the set-up through. Plotting? Maybe a bit, but it’s more like running scenarios through my head to come up with something plausible.
To digress a moment, this game I play at the set-up is generated through my previous and current research. For example, I “research” my books both while I write and before I even come up with an idea. When I participated in the FBI Citizens Academy, I thought I’d be writing a series based on the Evidence Response Teams because I love forensics. I have a lot of knowledge absorbed about crime scene analysis and police procedures. Not enough to be a CSI or a cop, but enough to know whether something is plausible or not, or to know exactly where to get the facts I need.
I never ended up writing the ERT books. But CUTTING EDGE came from an idea that was sparked while listening to the domestic terrorism special agent discuss a case where an informant helped take down would-be domestic bombers. He spoke of the girl with near-reverence and I couldn’t help but wonder who she was and what her backstory was, why she chose to assist the FBI when she’d been raised on the fringe of society. The true story stuck in my head and that’s why I’m not wholly surprised that the seeds were planted about my heroine’s backstory without me intentionally planting them. Because I had been very interested in the presentation, I absorbed much of the facts, laws and psychology of the types of cases domestic terrorism handled, so new research was minimal.
So I wrote CUTTING EDGE and rushed the ending because I was late on the book (long story) and I wasn’t happy with it, but I had time for revisions so after my editor read it and gave me her comments, I reworked the problem areas and as I’m wont to do, I started writing in a completely different direction. So my poor ending wasn’t going to stick anyway.
But five hours before I had to turn in the book, I had no idea how it was going to end.
I’d sort of written myself into a hole, and I was out of time. If I kept it as it was, my heroine would be TSTL. And she wasn’t–as proven throughout the book. But the climax was set up in a great place, it made sense for the characters, and I needed to figure out how it all came together.
That night, I was writing late at my favorite pub and I left at closing, banging my head on the steering wheel, trying to figure out how to get my heroine onto the mountain plausibly.
I passed a fire station and suddenly everything came clear. It worked. Everything I’d written worked, I just had to tweak a couple things and everything fell into place.
More recently, while writing ORIGINAL SIN–the first book of my seven deadly sins series–I didn’t know where my hero was.
First, to clarify the storyline, this is an ensemble cast. My heroine, Moira O’Donnell, is the driving force of the series. The hero is Rafe Cooper, who was in a coma in “Deliver Us From Evil” in WHAT YOU CAN’T SEE (with fabulous stories by our own Roxanne St. Claire and Karin Tabke!!!) But Anthony Zaccardi and Sheriff Skye McPherson are also major characters; I have two teenagers who are pivotal to the story; a true crime writer who takes a backseat in book one, but will be important in books two and three; and a strong cast of secondary characters. Being the first book of the series, while it starts out with a bang, there’s still a lot of set-up that I’m trying to integrate into action so I’m not dumping huge amounts of info on my readers all at once. I have more than forty research books, everything from witchcraft to the history of ancient religions to mythology to exorcisms and prayer books. I’ve skimmed most of them (and when I say “skim” I mean it–I just want to get an idea of what’s inside) and read five or six in greater depth. So I have a foundation I’m building on as I write.
So, anyway, my hero walks on page in chapter two, but disappears shortly thereafter and I had no idea where he went. I feared the bad guys got him, but when I brought the primary villain on page to confront my heroine, I realized she didn’t know where he was either. I’m writing and writing and not really thinking about him, then all of the sudden it’s Chapter Nine and my heroine is looking for him . . . and I have no idea where he is.
Fortunately, Moira is smarter than me and she finds him–barely alive–and surprisingly close to the initial crime scene.
Oh, and there’s a dead body (duh, it’s an Allison Brennan book, there has to be a dead body or three, right?) that Moira needs to destroy otherwise the occult will retrieve it for nefarious purposes. It took me all day to find a plausible way for her to break into the morgue unseen to snatch the body–and dammit, the body wasn’t there! She was too late. Which really throws a wrench into where I THOUGHT the story was going.
ORIGINAL SIN will be my thirteenth novel (somehow, that’s seems appropriate for my first supernatural thriller.) And my inability to plot hasn’t changed. I wrote a ELEVEN PAGE SINGLE SPACE synopsis for this book with the caveat typed in bold and all caps: DON’T HOLD ME TO THIS!!! . . . Pg 1-2 was the series overview (no brainer, I’ve been thinking about this series for nearly six years) and a brief synopsis written like back cover copy. Pg 3-5 are character paragraphs–my seven primary characters and the villains. Again, I’ve been thinking about them for a long time so I have a good sense for who they are. Sort of. Pg 6-7 is backstory–all the set up that leads to chapter one. Again, I’ve been figuring this out for awhile, though as I just skimmed through it I realized it’s wrong. The story changed the backstory . . . Pg 8-11 is the long synopsis. Of that, the first two pages is essentially the first three chapters of the book, and the last two pages are where I thought that story was going . . . and it’s all kind of wrong now. I haven’t looked at it after sending it in, until now . . . I didn’t realize how truly far I’ve deviated from how I *thought* it would happen.
But I can’t imagine doing this any other way.
However, I not incapable of change. Toni talked about the writing program Scrivener (Macs only) and I spontaneously bought it because I was just getting ready to dive into writing ORIGINAL SIN. Brand new series, new genre . . . new writing program! Why not? I went through the tutorial and imported what I had written (which, other than a small section, is now all gone as my story took off in a direction I didn’t plan . . . ) I don’t use all the features of Scrivener, but I discovered that you can teach this old dog new tricks.
I have NEVER written a book out of order, with the exception that I do often write prologues when they come to me which may be in the middle of a book. But I have to start at chapter one and go to chapter two and write linearly.
Scrivener has this cool binder function so I can see all my chapters and scenes on the left side. I can take notes on the right side. (Ok, I don’t really use the note function much.) But I’ve named my scenes and I’ve started writing a *bit* out of order. Not dramatically, but because it’s so easy to move the scenes around, I’ve found that I can write a scene as I think of it–like the autopsy scene–and move it later in the book (or earlier) and only tweaking the transitions. It’s amazing.
Of course, I have no idea what the book is going to look like when I’m done! But I’m sure having fun Especially writing in “full screen” mode–everything is blacked out except a strip in the middle of the screen where I write to the exclusion of everything else. I’ve been staying off the internet, immersed more in the story, and am “seeing” the story far sharper.
The only drawback and something I’m adjusting to is that I’ve always known where I am in the book based on my page county writing in 12 pt double spaced courier. I never looked at word count. Scrivener doesn’t have pages (until you export) and everything is word count driven. So I don’t have an intuitive grasp of where I am in the story based on page . . . though I’m also finding this freeing as I’m not subconsciously writing toward certain thresholds.
And amazingly . . . they’re all still there.
So write the right way for YOU. And don’t let anyone tell you there’s only one way to write. There isn’t. As the incomparable Cherry Adair would say, “Just write the damn book.”
P.S. I’ll be out all day and will check in tonight. I’m doing role playing with FBI SWAT in their tactical training drills. Yes, I’m serious. . . . do you see the grin on my face?
Okay, I’ll admit, I’m a news addict. When I worked in the legislature, one of the things I did every morning was read the headlines. My excuse: it was part of my job to keep informed on the important news and events of the day. I used facts in my writing about crime, education, taxes . . . and I liked to use anecdotal stories to illustrate or prove my facts.
When I sold, I switched my news obsession to the publishing industry. It may surprise you to know that I now have to rely on my husband for important news of the day, because I don’t watch television (unless it’s on DVD or my AppleTV) and I rarely read the news, unless it’s crime related.
Now I subscribe to Publishers Marketplace and Publishers Weekly and the new Lunch Automat on PM is going to be the death of me. Every morning and every night I have to skim the headlines. I’ll admit, I’m pretty good at pulling at the stories I’m interested in, and I can get through the headlines in five minutes–it’s when I click through, then click through, then click through one more time that the process becomes a time suck.
So through all this, I’ve found all the agent blogs. I enjoy them. I don’t know why. I have an agent I love. But I think knowing what’s going on outside of my own little bubble is important. Not just for me and my career, but because I am inundated with questions from aspiring writers. I’m not saying this as a bad thing–I like helping people if I can–but if I didn’t know anything but my finite world, I wouldn’t be much help at all.
This past week there has been a plethora of blogs about the subjective nature of publishing. This is something we all know. Reading itself is subjective. If we all loved and hated the same books, life would be boring. There is a breadth of books out there to suit the tastes of all readers–and thus, there are books out there–many that are hugely successful–that some of don’t care for.
Nathan Bransford with Curtis Brown has a blog I enjoy, and this week he played “Be Agent For A Day” and posted 50 queries he had his blog readers–most of whom, if not all, are aspiring authors. What amazed me was some of the cruelty that came from writers on the queries that were volunteered to Nathan for his project. Comments like, “Burn the manuscript.” Off a query letter someone can tell whether the manuscript is any good? Some of us just don’t write good query letters.
Unpublished author contests, which are prevalent in RWA but not as widely used in other genre writers groups, can offer valuable feedback–or kill your muse. IF you let it. The truth is, I’ve never heard an agent or editor be as cruel to an individual writer as other writers. Agents reject dozens of queries and manuscripts every single day–it’s not personal. It’s truly subjective.
Over at the Thrillerfest Blog, Randall Klein with Bantam reflected on passing up bestsellers. Editors, and agents, have a fear that they might not see the next great thing, but in the end, they have to buy what they are passionate about and what they think they can sell. It has to be both–because honestly, it’s much harder to sell something you can’t be passionate about, and it’s hard to be passionate about something you think has no marketability. Yet it’s not personal–and as we all know, sometimes you just have a bad day and think everything sucks.
Amazon reviews can be harsh. True, you’re now a published author! You have amazon reviews! RT reviews! Maybe a PW review! And you may be trashed by readers who hate your book. Some of the readers are not your readers–they may not love your voice or your twist on their favorite genre. Some of the readers are your readers, but think you wrote a dud. Not everyone will agree on which book is your dud.
Rejection hurts, whether you’re published or not. It’s what you do with the rejection that separates the weak from the strong. Here’s my advice for handling rejection, whether it’s from an agent, editor, or reviewer:
QUERIES
You’ve queried an agent with a one-page letter. They reject it. “It’s not right for me.” “I didn’t connect with the story.” “My list is full.” This is not a personal rejection. Hell, they’re not even rejecting your book–they’re rejecting your query letter. Suck it up and send another. If you think your query letter needs work, then fix it. But in the end, it is always the BOOK ITSELF that will sell an agent on you.
PARTIALS
An agent read a partial. “It’s not for us.” Suck it up and query more agents and start your next book. Most authors don’t sell their first book. If they do, more power to them. But it’s common to write two, five, ten books before you sell one.
FULLS
An agent loved your query enough to read the full manuscript. “I didn’t connect with the characters.” “I didn’t love it enough.” “The story was superficial.” Whatever they say, know that not everyone will agree with them. On my debut novel, I queried twelve agents and five requested fulls, and two others requested partials. Five rejected on the query letter. One full rejected, one partial rejected, and the other partial requested the full, but my very wise and savvy agent had already signed me. They others just too too long Their loss, right? My debut novel hit #33 on the NYT list. But would I would an agent who didn’t love it? Hell no. I want an agent who LOVES my book. So it’s worth waiting for that agent, either by sending out more queries, or writing another book.
CONTESTS
Learn to discern advice. Read it, if it makes sense and you agree, incorporate it. If you disagree, ignore it. Most of these judges are unpublished authors. Do they know what’s best? No. Do you? Probably not. But you know what’s best for YOUR book. Never change anything because someone (other than an editor!) tells you that you “have” to.
And if they get personal? Screw ‘em. Editors don’t reject you personally, they reject your manuscript. Contest judges need to be professional, and if they’re not, they can pound salt.
Whatever you do, do NOT cry or get discouraged because an idiot contest judge told you that you write like an amateur or you’ll never be published or you need to take English Composition 101. If you do, get out of the game now, because you’ll never survive Amazon reviews when you do get published.
REVIEWS
There are three camps of authors: Those who read all their reviews (me); those who read only the good reviews their agent/friends send them; those who never read reviews.
If you have a thin skin, don’t read your reviews.
If you do read your reviews, remember that it’s just the opinion of ONE person. A stranger. If they love your book, they have wonderful taste . . . if they hate it and trash it, they’re having a bad day. Move on. You’re a published author. A bad review is not going to kill you.
IT’S SUBJECTIVE
When an agent says, “It’s subjective,” it is. Good books get rejected every day. It’s part of the business.
So be a big girl (or boy) and don’t take rejection, however it comes, personally. Move on, improve your craft, and keep submitting.
I’m in the middle of reading CREATION IN DEATH, the latest JD Robb romantic suspense, and want to throw it against the wall. Not because the book sucks, but because after what? 24, 25, 26 books in this series this book is THE BEST. How in the world can she keep getting BETTER? Isn’t this like Seinfeld or The X-Files when you know the show is one of the best in history . . . but they just went a couple seasons too long?
Well, take it from an IN DEATH fan, this series continues to get better and as I was reading, I wondered why.
It came down to two things. Talent, which Ms. Roberts has in spades, and hard work.
On the talent end: you have it or you don’t. I subscribe to Stephen King’s comment in his book ON WRITING (to paraphrase) that a bad writer can never be a good writer, and a good writer can never be a great writer, but a mediocre writer can become a good writer–and most of the published authors are good writers. At least good enough that someone thought they were worthy of publishing. It is a matter of practice, putting the right tools in your tool chest and learning when to use them, and . . .
Hard work.
Books don’t write themselves. You have to put your butt in the chair. You have to know how to tell a story. At first you may not have all the right “tools” to use King’s analogy, but most good writers are not necessarily brilliant literary divas, they are simply good storytellers.
If you go to Nora Roberts website and surf around, you quickly learn that she has a schedule. She writes regularly. Day in and day out. She keeps at it. Even before she became the mega-author she is today, she kept to her routine, kept writing, finished one book then started the other. Stephen King suggests that you should write daily, or at least five days a week. To set a goal and stick to it. If it’s 500 words a day, so be it. 2000 words? More power to you. The point is to create the habit of sitting down and writing–getting your story out on paper.
Everyone is different. The five of us here at Murder She Writes all have different schedules, different methods, different story telling strengths and weaknesses.
I, for one, am the world’s biggest procrastinator.
Don’t laugh. Yes, I write three books a year. I know people who write more. In the time I waste JUST in the time I set aside to write every day (9-3 Monday through Friday), I could easily write a whole ‘nother book. I go on-line, read email, write blogs, read blogs, comment on blogs, write articles, chat, and generally waste time.
Sure, I get my books in on time, but only because those last two weeks before deadline I realize that I am way behind and I panic and write every day and every night and worry and stress and I’m sure none of that is good for me. Why, oh why, can I not be more disciplined? Why can’t I sit down during my writing time and write?
The answer isn’t easy, and I think different days I have different excuses. But the truth is: fear.
I think that all of us at one point while writing fear that this book is just not as good as the last. This happens to me every time. I don’t know why, I don’t know how to stop it, but it’s there, a little negative sprite on my shoulder telling me I’ve written my last good book. That there’s no more in me, and why did I think this story was going to work anyway?
That little negativity chips away at what little self-confidence I have while the muse is in control and my “working hard” turns to “hardly working” and I use every excuse in the book.
Then I hit myself. If after 26 IN DEATH books, Nora Roberts can continue to get better and better, why shouldn’t I at least be as good as before? Why would I get worse?
I think we naturally pressure ourselves to improve, and when we see what we want to write and it doesn’t quite make it down on paper the way we intend, we feel like failures. At least I do. And that manifests itself into not writing.
So my advice to myself–and to anyone else who is hardly working–remember what FDR said: The only thing to fear is fear itself.
Put butt in chair, hands on keyboard, and write, dammit. The book isn’t going to write itself.
I’ve always felt welcome in ITW, even though I write what’s marketed as “romantic suspense.” I put that in quotes only because everyone and their brother has a different idea what romantic suspense is and what it isn’t. 
Currently, there are four or five anthologies on sale now, the two biggest being THRILLER (edited by James Patterson) and THRILLER 2 (edited by Clive Cussler) published by MIRA. A YA Thriller Anthology will be published by Tor in the Fall. I’m the managing editor of THRILLER 3 (edited by Sandra Brown) which boasts a terrific line-up of bestselling and award-winning romantic suspense and thriller authors. Most recently, 100 MUST READ THRILLERS went on-sale. I have an essay on REBECCA by Daphne du Maurier in the non-fiction anthology, the book most often considered the true launch of the romantic suspense genre.
Another amazing program that was announced at the banquet was the USO inviting thriller authors to go to Iraq. Steve Berry and James Rollins are two of them (who I know personally) and I am thrilled with this, not least of which is to help our troops. Like RWA has the Literacy Signing, ITW supports Reading Is Fundamental. Half the profits from the YA thriller anthology (edited by R.L. Stine) is going to RIF.
If you write romance, RWA is definitely the place to be. And since I write romantic suspense, I can’t imagine not being part of both organizations. After Orlando, I’ll write about RWA!
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