


When Hollywood heavyweight Shepard Brown fears someone is trying to kill him, he asks newly licensed private investigator Lorraine Keys to keep him safe. Friends with Shepard since elementary school, Lorraine knows he can be more than a little melodramatic. Though she agrees to meet him on location in Atlantic City, New Jersey, to review the situation, the last thing she expects is to find truth in his claims. After all, a poisoned pizza? But after getting caught in the center of yet another attempt on Shepard’s life, Lorraine is forced to admit he’s right about the danger—and determined to find a way to protect him while searching for the culprit.
With her meddling friend Barb along for the ride and her boss anxiously tracking her every move, Lorraine must juggle the chaos of a film set, the lure of the casinos, the mutual attraction of a hunky co-star, and a minefield of Shepard’s ex-girlfriends all while keeping Shepard safe and uncovering the identity of the killer … before she becomes the next target.
You can find Jen online on her blog, on facebook, and by following her on twitter.It’s Write, not Right
No, this tip isn’t about spelling or choosing the correct word; it's a post about the highly subjective nature of writing and storytelling.
Writing is an art, not a science. Sure, like any form of art, there are techniques. There are basics to be mastered, skills to be learned. But like art, writing and storytelling would not exist, or be so popular or stimulate so many people's minds and hearts, if everyone painted, drew, sculpted, told a story in the same way. Similarly there's no right answer to whether a piece of art or a particular story is "good". What one person loves, the next will hate. It's subjective.
In art schools, budding artists learn by first drawing and painting mundane things, all in the same manner using the same media. They start with cylinders, balls, cones and other shapes, first with pencil, then charcoal, then conte or ink then paint (if they are painters) or clay (if they are sculptors). Then they move onto apples, oranges and pears (an art school favorite) then on to more complex still life compositions and the human form.
After this, in most art programs, the students learn to imitate. They copy the old masters, the impressionists, the great modern artists. They learn techniques by studying and imitating the artists who have gone before them.
But then? After those skills are mastered? Artists are expected to forget all that. No, not to forget—to put all those skills and techniques in a toolbox and start creating art in an entirely new way. Their own original way. Being derivative isn't rewarded, even in the more commercial areas of art. What everyone loves and rewards and gets excited about, is someone who does something different and interesting. Whether something is "good" or “horrible” is entirely up to the viewer of the art. In fact, whether or not it's original versus derivative is also up to the viewer. It's entirely subjective.
I believe that all these things hold true with writing. Writers learn the basic building blocks of sentences, paragraphs, scenes, chapters, acts, novels. They learn about careful word choice, avoiding redundancy, clean writing, the advantages of using an active voice and when they might use a passive voice for effect. They study other writers and perhaps do some imitation at first. They learn other skills of storytelling like escalating conflict and point of view and managing the release of information to create the desired emotions and experiences for the reader. They study theories, developed by those who've analyzed storytelling, like: "The Hero's Journey" and "Goal, Motivation, Conflict" and "Three Act Plotting".
But how to best use these skills once they are learned? Entirely subjective. If it weren't. If there were one way to do these things, then reading—particularly reading more than one book within a given genre—would be hopelessly boring for the reader. Readers usually don't notice the writer's technique unless it's dreadfully poorly executed. (Occasionally, if the story's great, they don't even notice when it's poorly executed, or care—evidence that religious thriller that did pretty well a few years ago. And some might argue that YA series about sparkling blood drinkers.) Readers know when they are drawn into a story, when they are pulled along so they can't put the book down. When they are entertained. So whether another writer might pick apart some elements of technique in popular books, there’s no denying that the authors told great stories and kept their readers’ entertained.
All that said, there *is* a lot of skill involved in writing well and crafting tightly told stories. Skills that need to be learned and honed. I’ve heard it said that you need to write a million words before you’re ready to be published—which is a lot of words! But I think there’s some truth to it. I also think that while there is no “right”, it is important to study and understand the rules of good writing.
Once you’ve done that, then go break them.
Right and write may sound the same, but they have entirely different meanings.
So, you are on deadline! Congratulations! Someone – be it an agent or an editor – wants your manuscript on their desk. This is a Yoda moment if ever there was one, people. You don’t “try” to make a deadline. You Do, or Do Not. (And if you are serious about your writing career, go with the former.)
The thing about deadlines is that, while it would be really nice to hit the pause button on the rest of your life and devote yourself exclusively to the creation of luminous, heart-rending prose, life is in no way like a TiVo. You’re going to have to manage real life and writing life simultaneously. I’m currently working on the second and third books in my YA trilogy, as well as preparing for my debut novel’s release. It’s been a whirlwind, but I’ve had ample opportunity over the last eight months to familiarize myself with deadlines and develop a bag of tricks to deal with them. Here are my favorites:
Tip Number One: Think Like A Boy Scout.
In other words, be prepared. On the writing side, make sure your workspace has what you need – notes, outlines, a handy whiteboard, reference books you use frequently, the types of pens you like to use. There’s nothing worse than sitting down at your desk and realizing that the notes you scribbled to yourself the night before, the ones that will resolve the yawning plot hole in the middle of chapter seventeen, are somewhere in the stack of papers on your kitchen counter. Everything else? The stuff you don’t need? Throw it in a grocery bag and put it in the basement. You aren’t going to have time to read the latest issue of Real Simple anyway, so remove the distraction entirely. Soon enough, your desk is going to be covered with post-it notes, half-empty coffee cups, and Luna Bar wrappers, but you might as well start out with a clean worksurface.
On the real life side, accept that things are going to slide, and devise ways to counteract the chaos. Around here, the first thing that goes is my commitment to a tidy kitchen (not that it was ever a terribly strong commitment, but you get the idea). When I know I’m facing a big deadline, I stock up on frozen veggies, pizzas, and Trader Joe’s meals – stuff that I can make quickly – or even better, my husband can make quickly – and doesn’t require every pot in my cabinet. You should also know what areas you aren’t willing to let slide, and schedule in time for those things. At my house, helping our girls with their homework is non-negotiable, so I don’t even try to write during that time.
Tip Number Two: Find The Right Carrot
Meeting a book deadline is like running a marathon. It’s a long slog that gets pretty damn frantic at the end. But for most of the trip, you need a little something to keep yourself motivated. The key is to figure out what that something is. There are, I am told, people who are intrinsically motivated – the sheer rush of meeting their day’s wordcount is sufficient. Perhaps their motivational tool is a bar graph that they color in nightly with smelly markers, or a sticker chart. I have never met these people, but I’m sure they’re charming and not at all smug.
Some of us, however, need something a little more…tangible. A DVD. A dinner at a nice restaurant with their long-suffering spouse. A trip to Disneyworld. Really, it’s whatever carrot is sufficiently tasty enough to keep you going when you’d much rather nap than write another word. The nice thing about extrinsic rewards is that they’re scalable. I can give myself small rewards for making my daily page count (a shower!); medium –sized ones for making my weekly goal (a Panera egg soufflĂ©!) and something awesome for finishing the manuscript altogether (Season Five of Doctor Who on DVD and a nice bottle of wine).
But there’s another motivator, and I think it shouldn’t be ignored: FEAR.
I know approximately how long my manuscript should be. I know when my deadline is. And while I’ve never been much of a math person, I am fairly proficient with both calculator and calendar, so it’s a simple process to determine my daily page count and write a running page count on the calendar. For example, if I need to write three pages a day, I label the squares: 3, 6, 9, 12, 15…all the way to 350. This might seem like overkill, but trust me – skip two days, and the weight of those missed pages will land squarely on your chest at three in the morning. It won’t happen again.
Tip Number Three: Muscle Memory
Muscle memory, if you’re unfamiliar with the term, is when your body repeats a movement frequently enough that you no longer have to consciously think about it. Knitters on their third scarf no longer worry about how to wrap the yarn around the needle, because they’ve done it eleventy-billion times, for example. Ballet dancers can whip through the five feet and arm positions automatically, because they’ve practiced those positions since they were in kindergarten. Writing is no different. Get yourself into a writing routine, and instead of fidgeting in your chair, arranging your pencils, and finding the exact right spot for your coffee cup while you wait for inspiration to strike, you’ll sit down and go-go-go, because your body and brain have been trained to do exactly that. And here’s the beauty of muscle memory: it doesn’t matter what your routine is.
It doesn’t matter where you like to work – coffee shop, library, home office, kitchen table, wherever. Choose a location and stick with it. Train your body to recognize that location as Where Work Happens, and the work will go a lot easier. The same goes for your workstyle: Plotter? Pantser? Do you polish as you go, or write a sloppy first draft? Do you like silence or a soundtrack as you write? It doesn’t matter, so long as you keep to the routine.
Experimenting is good when you’re in the easy-peasy drafting stage, or brainstorming, or trying to fight writer’s block. But when you’re on a deadline and fifteen minutes is the difference between making your word count for the day and (again) waking up at three in the morning in a cold sweat…routine is your friend.
My one caveat is this: don’t let your need for routine turn into a form of procrastination. If you can’t possibly settle down to write because your favorite coffee mug broke, or you ran out of the hot pink post-it-notes, or Panera ran out of bear claws before you arrived, your routine is no longer helping you – it’s restraining you. Try a chocolate croissant or the purple post-its, and get back to work.
Tip Number Four: Nobody Expects The Spanish Inquisition.
Look: disaster is going to strike. Your computer is going to crash. Your kids are going to get sick. Your inlaws are going to come for a visit. There’s no getting around these things, so you might as well plan for them. Build some wiggle room into your schedule – give yourself Saturdays off, for example. When things are going well, you can use that day off as a chance to unwind and recharge your batteries. In bad times, you can use it as a chance to catch up. Consider it preventative maintenance.
And while we’re on the topic of preventative maintenance? Back up your work. Every day. The very last thing I do at night is send a copy of my manuscript to three separate email accounts; I also save a copy to a flash drive. If you back up religiously, odds are good you’ll never need to use it. Forget to back up the day you write that hauntingly beautiful breakup scene? I guarantee your hard drive will fry like an egg while you sleep.
Tip Number Five: Family Matters
Your family and friends love you. They want you to be successful. They want to help. Sadly, they cannot write the words on the page. They also cannot read your mind, so you need to communicate with them. This is a three-pronged approach.
· Explain what you need to do. Make sure your family knows when your deadlines are, and how much time you need each day to get your work done. When I’m on deadline, I get dinner on the table and then get to work for the night. That’s not our normal routine, but in that last month, those few extra hours make a huge difference. And because we’ve talked about it beforehand, my husband isn’t surprised when I say, “Enjoy the pork roast, everybody! See you in the morning!”
· Ask for help. Sometimes this is asking someone to pick your kids up from dance class. Sometimes this is asking your husband to do the laundry, or bring you a fresh cup of coffee. Sometimes this is asking your ten-year-old to watch Sesame Street with her baby sister so that you can finish writing a scene. Your family loves you, and they’d much rather chip in along the way than deal with a category-five freakout two weeks before your manuscript is due.
· Set some rewards. Finishing a book is a major victory – for you, and your loved ones. So once you meet that deadline, celebrate with the people who have made it possible. They’ve watched you work, they’ve been deprived of the pleasure of your company, and they’ve supported you throughout the marathon. In my experience, your family will enjoy spending time with you far more than any gift you can buy, so plan to do something fun – a trip to a museum, a family game night, making cookies together – and don’t think about your manuscript at all while you’re doing it. Besides…you’re going to want to have built up some goodwill before the next deadline comes along.
As always, my advice comes with the following disclaimer: there are many roads to Oz, and what works for me might not work for you, so feel free to cherry-pick. Or, leave your own deadline tips in the comments below. I’m always looking for more tricks to add to my bag.
This week's link roundup:“What do you do when you get writer’s block?”
I think this is the question people ask me the most about the actual nuts and bolts of being a writer. Probably this is partly because anyone who’s ever written anything has felt that terror of the blank page (or blank computer screen) at one time or another, and a lot of people can’t imagine choosing to grapple with that on a regular basis. Also, I think, a lot of us authors have encouraged that image of ourselves as tortured creative souls bravely doing battle with the demons who threaten to silence our voice.
It beats actually admitting, “Yeah, I just spent an hour staring at an empty computer screen. Do you think watching paint dry would have been a more productive use of my time?”
But over the years I have found that three different approaches work for me with writer’s block, depending on how serious it is:
1. Force yourself to keep writing.
This is the technique I always try first. It works best when you have at least a wisp of an idea of where you want the story to go, but you just can’t find the right words to tell your story. Even if you seem to have regressed to a preschooler’s command of the English language, get that down on paper. Even something as pathetic as “Characters go. Eat dinner. Sleep in bed” can always be revised. When I try this approach, I’m constantly telling myself, Yes, I know this is terrible, but I’ll fix it later. Nobody but me will ever have to see how terrible this is. Just keep going! And then, most of the time, the bad stuff leads into good stuff and I forget the internal pep talks because I am totally in the story and writing like crazy.
Unless, of course, this doesn’t work, and every word I try to write makes me more and more frustrated and I hate my story and I hate my characters and I hate writing and I’m ready to delete the entire manuscript and throw my computer out the window. Before I actually turn destructive, I shift to my second approach:
2. Walk away.
This one is a little bit dangerous, because what if you walk away and never go back? My strategy is to force myself to do something completely menial and brainless instead. It’s even better if it’s work I would normally hate, like scrubbing the grout in my shower. With my hands occupied and my brain free to wander, I can usually get a better perspective on what I’m trying to write, and mentally experiment with lots of ideas without the pressure of trying to instantly put those ideas into words. I have worked out knotty plot or character issues while exercising, mowing the yard, folding laundry, washing dishes, painting my basement, and, yes, scrubbing shower grout. There’s just something about physical labor that really does help you think.
But sometimes, all that that helps you accomplish is to get a mowed yard, clean clothes, clean dishes, newly painted basement or clean shower. Sometimes I have to try the third approach instead:
If I’m working on a book where I did a lot of research ahead of time, I go back and re-read my notes, or delve into more books or Internet sites to add to my knowledge base. Even if I’m writing something that would seem to be 100 percent imaginary, I find some angle to research. If I’m writing about an imaginary political uprising, I read about real ones; if I’m writing about an imaginary disease I read about treatments of vaguely comparable real ones. I almost always find some useful information to weave back into my story and keep me going. Often I realize that my problem wasn’t writer’s block at all—it was ignorance.
Good luck!
Kate's Tips for Writing Fresh:
Let's say you're brainstorming, getting ready to start a new book and trying to come up with a great premise. You really should know that on average, the first idea that pops into your head has an 85% probability of being a cliché. (Note: All statistics were specially invented for this post.)
Please, try for idea #2.
Oops. IT has a 50% probability of being a cliché.
After that, the process isn't quite as predictable. But my point is, a brainstorm list with 12 items on it is much richer than one with 3, no matter how much you think you like #2. 'Cause baby, wait till you see #8!
Then there's the Tweak Phase. Let's say you've made a list of 10 ideas and NONE of them cause your computer screen to light up and ring like a Vegas slot machine because they are Astonishingly Good. So what do you do?
You take each idea and brainstorm about it! The key phrase for brainstorming book ideas as well as for tweaking them is, of course, "What if?" Here's an example, starting with a so-so idea before moving into tweak mode.
1. A girl goes to prom with this boy she really likes after feeling like a loser, and now she feels confident and beautiful. [NO, TOO TYPICAL.]
2. A girl goes to prom with a guy she hardly knows because he owes her brother a big favor. He's surprised to discover he likes her. [STILL PRETTY BLAH.]
3. The guy thinks he's doing the girl such a favor, but she isn't that thrilled, and HE winds up falling for her. [I'M BORED. TIME FOR SOMETHING A LITTLE DIFFERENT.]
4. What if a girl at the prom with a guy she hardly knows is secretly pregnant and has her baby in the bathroom? [MORE MATERIAL THERE! WHAT ELSE?]
5. What if the girl convinces another girl—a quiet loner/loser—to say it's hers? [MUCH BETTER.]
6. What if the second girl decides she really likes having a baby and wants to keep it? [OKAY, BUT...]
7. What if the first girl changes her mind, so the second girl goes on the run with the baby? [NICE! HOW DOES SHE PULL THIS OFF?]
8. Why does the first girl want the baby back, anyway? Is it maternal instinct, or because her rich grandmother wants to leave all her money to her first grandchild? [SOAP OPERA-ISH, BUT FUN!]
9. Does the boy find out and want his paternal rights? Who is he? What's he like? [NOW WE'RE COOKING!]
10. What if the father of the child falls for the second girl? [HMM. THAT'S WAAAY TOO CONVENIENT. HOLLYWOOD WOULD LOVE IT.]
11. What if the father of the child falls for the second girl, but she doesn't like him back? [NICE TWIST.]
12. What if the grandmother sues for custody? [MORE SOAP OPERA, BUT I'M REALLY ENJOYING ALL THIS!]
You may have noticed that my premise tweaking turned into plot development, but that's good, too. Oh, the incredible power of "What if"! You can use it to move a story along, especially when you're stuck, and even to revise after you've finished the first draft or so. I sometimes assign writing students to pick plot points or scenes from their WIPs that are bugging them vaguely and brainstorm the wildest twists they can think of for those sections. They often come up with really good stuff and end up incorporating it in the next draft.
Another consideration when trying to "write fresh" is: How do you know if your ideas are stale and predictable? I bring this up because I've had people say the equivalent of, "I have the most amazing idea for a book! There's a girl, and she's in love with a vampire, but her other friend is a werewolf, and it's this whole love triangle!" They tend to get upset when I say, "Um. Sounds like Twilight."
No, really, assuming you aren't THAT bad, how do you know?
One suggestion is to read extensively in the field. You can also do some googling and other Internet research—for example, look up certain books on Amazon and check out the section that says, "People who bought this book also bought...." Or try asking librarians and knowledgeable bookstore clerks for good books about your general topic, then read the flap copy of selected books and decide which ones you feel you should read in their entirety.
Of course, there will always be some basic overlap regardless of what you choose to write about. But do your homework. And if you really, really must write about vampires, tweak your premise very deliberately to make sure it's not a Twilight clone. Instead, YOURS will be a wild new take on that currently overdone subgenre.
What else can you do to ensure freshness? Put the brainstorm list away and let it incubate. In a week or two, come back and make a brand-new list. Then and only then, you can take another look at your previous list. Compare the two lists. Combine items. And maybe even repeat the whole process all over again.
Assuming you've made your list—or two or three lists—and are now sitting there staring at them, which idea should you pick to work on?
If none of the ideas on your list are working, try rewriting every single idea with a twist. Or rewrite the better ones with multiple twists. But if you already have some stuff you really like, put a star by your three favorite ideas, the ones that appeal to you on a gut level. (If you've made additional lists, mark four or five.) The next step, which is very important, is to do a one- or two-page freewrite about each of your top ideas.
THEN you can see which one is really taking flight. That is, do this for three or four of your top ideas because the one that shines will not always be the one you might have predicted.
At this point, make yet another "what if" list, this time oriented toward further plot development, as I did in the second half of my example above. As you can see, I tend to write these notes as a series of questions and answers about the plot. While you're doing that, see if the idea continues to soar, filling you with hope and energy. Does it intrigue you? Are you eager to read this book you haven't even written yet?
If not, you can always start over, pursuing the elusive fresh factor with yet another "What if?" Because if you're going to spend a year of your life writing one particular story, you really want something that makes you smile every morning when you wake up. Happily, that will almost always be the same story that makes readers smile, too.