Winter reflections on a work in progress

winterMany apologies for not updating this site recently. I’ve been busy with various projects, including photography and blogging for another site about mental health, which I’ll share once it’s published.  Before things get too hectic as the year draws to a close, I wanted to give you an idea of where I’m up to with my novel.

My fantastic writing coach Lauren Sapala gave me some detailed and very encouraging feedback on the story.  As always it’s a pleasure to read Lauren’s comments because she totally gets what I’m trying to do and responds emotionally to the characters just as I’d hoped.  She also has great instincts for improving a draft and pointing out where something is unclear or confusing.

After making these initial changes I gave the book to my husband.  Although I’ve been working on it for two years, he didn’t know much about the storyline or what to expect. He hasn’t finished it yet, but it’s been interesting to see his reactions, which so far aren’t that dissimilar from Lauren’s: they mentioned liking the same sections. He’s giving me line-by-line editorial comments which are helping to make the writing stronger and more concise.

Once this second round of amends is complete, which I anticipate will be early next year, I’m going to send it to The Literary Consultancy for a full professional assessment. I’ve paid for similar agency reports in the past, so I know from experience that they don’t hold back in telling you what’s wrong with your manuscript. Which is good, because it’s what you’re paying them for, but it’s not necessarily easy to hear either.  So, that will be January’s challenge.

I have no idea what they’ll say or whether it’ll require a complete rethink or just tweaking, but I’ll deal with that problem when it arrives. If it needs significant rewriting then I’ll ask someone else, maybe a couple of people, to look through the revised version. After that, an amazing friend of mine who is a freelance editor has offered to proofread the final copy.

And then… that’s the text done. The next stage will be to start on the cover artwork, formatting, website, adverts and the film I’m planning to make in place of a book tour. It’s exciting to think about.

Some people have asked if I’m planning to have one last go at submitting to literary agents before I self-publish.  As things stand, I’m not.  The reason is that I see self-publishing nowadays as a positive choice, not a last resort for the rejected. I love the idea of having creative control over the cover design and the marketing. Also, my story addresses several themes that are very current (you’ll see what I mean) and I’m not willing to wait years longer to get it out into the world.

I have been through my 15 years of rejection and while it hasn’t exactly been fun, it may have made me stronger in some ways. It certainly rids you of any lingering sense of entitlement. Nobody owes you a publishing contract because you were a straight-A student or got a literature degree or have written stories since you could hold a pen. And potential isn’t enough: if your work isn’t marketable, the industry can’t afford to support you until you get there. Not when they have a surplus of talented writers to choose from.

Although I’ve abandoned the traditional publishing route, I still get a regular hit of rejection in the form of contests. I scaled back my entries this year as they were becoming unaffordable at up to £25 a go and so I only entered five. Four have been a no, but there’s one more result to go before the year ends.  I’m trying not to read too much into my lack of success. When a longlist only represents around 3% of the entries, I don’t think you can conclude the others lacked merit or might not go on to win other contests.

In all honesty I would still like to have validation from the literary establishment one day, but I recognise that it isn’t necessary any more. Technology is removing those barriers. We get to decide for ourselves when our apprenticeship is over and we’re “good enough” to begin for real.

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Three kinds of writing advice I choose to ignore

Being a natural student at heart, I’ve dedicated significant time over the last fifteen years to trawling through books, articles and blogs in order to glean wisdom from more experienced writers and editors.

When published authors are asked in interviews what advice they’d give to beginners, some will set down a list of rigid commandments. Others might say cheerily, ‘oh, don’t listen to anyone’s advice. There are no rules in writing and no one knows what they’re doing anyway.’

I’m not sure either approach is especially helpful. It’s difficult to learn and grow without input from others, and while there may be no rules as such, there are techniques and principles of the craft to master, which help us improve. I’ve also benefited from insight into other authors’ creative processes, particularly the ways they overcome self-doubt.

However, as a learner it’s easy to become overwhelmed by the torrent of do’s and don’ts and musts and shoulds, which can inhibit our creativity and make us discouraged before we even start. Like so much on the internet, writing advice is a useful resource, but it pays to be careful who you listen to, and to be wary of over-consumption.

When sifting through content, to an extent I’ve learned to take what I can use and filter out the rest. I don’t accept someone’s opinion just because they’re a successful writer or well-known agent, but I do try to be open to new suggestions.

I have also identified three types of advice that raise red flags for me.

1.  People who tell me what I can and can’t write about

“Write what you know.” “Write what readers want.” “Write what sells.” “Write something no one else has done before.” “Don’t write about yourself – you’re not that interesting.” “Don’t write outside your own experience of life – you’ll get it wrong.”

We can choose to write on almost any subject, and provided we execute it with enough imagination and flair, we stand a good chance of engaging our target audience. Of course, some concepts will challenge us more than others, which is important to consider when embarking on a new project. But ultimately, I have to pursue whatever idea I feel most passionate about. Other people can help me talk through my plans, but no one gets to decide my limitations for me.

2.  Anyone who claims their writing method is the only correct one

Not long ago I unsubscribed from an account that was emailing me information about self-publishing, because the author told me I should be spending no more than three months on a manuscript. If I was taking a year or longer to write a book, they said, I must be “doing it wrong.”

Conversely I’ve heard people sneering at writers who are able to turn around a novel more quickly than they are, or at those who use plot outlines versus those who don’t. Others insist a specific number of words must be produced or hours committed daily to writing without fail. Even when you’re uninspired or sick or going through a crisis, nothing must ever get in the way of your art.

In the writing community, and of course elsewhere, too many people believe what works for them should apply to everyone, regardless of temperament or circumstances. Sometimes they try to sell their solution accordingly. If I’m going to invest in my writing career, I’d rather work with a mentor who supports my individual needs than buy into a one-size-fits-all formula.

3Anything delivered in an unkind or belittling tone

At some point every writer has to face realistic assessments or criticisms of their work that are difficult to hear. But critique should never be an excuse for mockery or crushing someone’s spirit. I’m sufficiently intelligent to understand feedback without requiring it to be brutal, and there’s already too much negativity in the world for me to give my attention to people who don’t have my best interests at heart. If someone lacks the sensitivity to be encouraging to other artists, I doubt they’ll appreciate my style of fiction anyway.

What do you think about writing advice? Is there anything you’ve found helpful or that really doesn’t work for you?

 

Constructive criticism: where honesty meets kindness

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All writers and artists who share their work will face criticism. It’s not only inevitable, but essential for helping us learn our craft. But there’s a world of difference between constructive criticism that builds on the foundations of the early draft, and destructive criticism that tears the thing apart.

As a published author, you have no control over spiteful or negative reviews (though you can choose not to read them). When you’re a new writer or in the first stages of a new book, you get to decide who sees your draft. So unless you’re exceptionally thick-skinned, the best thing you can do for your writing career is to find someone supportive and truthful to help you, and avoid those who leave you feeling dejected and hopeless.

In my experience, some writing groups have a macho approach to critiquing, and members may pride themselves on their ‘brutal’ honesty. Well, I’ll be honest with them: it doesn’t impress me at all that they’re able to say what they think without regard for people’s feelings. What takes real skill, in my opinion, is to tell a writer their work needs improvement while leaving them feeling supported and hopeful they can make it better.

Kindness and honesty don’t have to be polar opposites. Kindness without honesty is not true kindness to an artist, because it denies them the opportunity for growth.  And while honesty without kindness may contain some useful truths, it can also cost the artist their confidence and motivation to carry on.

It may sound obvious that a critique should include positive comments, but it’s amazing how many people forget this. They assume if an aspect of the writing is already working, it doesn’t need to be pointed out.  But positive feedback isn’t just about ego. It’s extremely useful to know when your words are having their desired impact, and what your overall writing strengths are.

The difference between a constructive and a destructive critique is as much about word choice as content. When I receive a page of criticism, initially I skim through it, and certain words and phrases leap out at me. These are the words that contain a strongly positive or negative emotional charge.

Imagine if a critique of your first ever story contained the following:

Plot clichéd and predictable, pacing slow and boring, couldn’t care less what happens next, characters whiny and unlikeable, descriptions generic, bland and repetitive, spelling and grammar is very poor.

You’d need a hide like a rhinoceros not to feel a bit crushed by that. But what if the critiquer had chosen to turn those phrases into positive suggestions for improvement?

Needs new plot twist or angle, faster pace, more emotional intensity to hook the reader, use more concise and specific description, increase our empathy for the characters, sentences need a thorough edit.

You still might not like it. It probably wasn’t what you were hoping to hear. But there’s a different energy about it. It makes you feel like those changes are possible and within your power to achieve.

As writers, we do have to learn to deal with criticism, but we don’t have to subject ourselves unnecessarily to cruelty or insensitivity that is hurtful and damaging to us and our art. Because ultimately we’re responsible for the influences we allow into our lives.