Tag Archives: writing

Life and stuff, Novel, Ramblings, Uncategorized

‘How To Novel’. Pt 1: Time

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Carrying on from my previous post about how I “finished” the first draft of my novel, I’ve decided to chronicle the process that worked for me. I have absolutely no idea how many posts will be in ‘How to Novel’. Like the first draft of my book, I’ll know when it’s done.

Before I begin, I’m going to issue a caveat with each of these posts:

This is the process that worked for me. It may not work for you; it may not be workable to your circumstances. Take from it what you think might be achievable, tweak it to fit, or ignore completely! (Also, there will be swearing.)

Right, let’s do this!

The first thing I want to talk about is TIME. You know, that thing of which you never have enough. *shakes fist at Chronos*

TIME is a huge part of writing anything. Being able to sit uninterrupted (apparently this is a thing, being uninterrupted) and devote the time and mental space to create, to fire up the imagination is often a luxury many of us either struggle with or just plain don’t have. Or, when you do, you’re just too buggered to engage the mind to make word-babies.

I run a successful editing business, and I love my what I do. I also have the joy of working from home (pants optional). I also have a partner and children, which means my days need to be as structured as they can be if I’m to achieve all that needs achieving. Life, of course, often gives me the finger – there’s much in my day that needs doing. Trying to fit writing time into that has been a serious struggle for the last couple of years, so while story ideas and characters percolated, they never quite made it to the page.

My writing partner, the storytelling-gifted Devin Madson, kept on about MAKING TIME to write. You’ve probably heard the same from others, and while it sounds incredibly simple, actioning it was difficult especially when weighed against my business. <– See that there? I used ‘against’ because that’s how I viewed it. An either/or situation when it wasn’t the case. It was a mind-shift moment. My business and my writing weren’t in opposition, they just had to share the space.

Tangles of Time by Oli-86

Tangles of Time by Oli-86

So I took a week to figure out where I was more productive when it came to writing, as editing I can do any time of the day or night (yes, a lot of the time I pull long hours at the desk). It was morning that came out the clear winner on the writing/creativity front. That was where my time needed to be eked out. I started small – gave myself an hour each morning, and… I sucked at it.

The thing is, it’s not just about making time, it’s about GUARDING TIME. I was checking emails, doing laundry… shit, I forgot to feed the fish… that kind of thing. And I was wholly unproductive and I hated myself for it. What I wrote in those first two weeks gave me no joy. Everything about it was just… wrong.

So I reset. I guarded that time. Nothing but writing. No interruptions. No fucking social media, time-stealer that it is. And I explained it to my family, too. From this time to this time, I’m writing. I will not answer questions, I will not help you find your shoes, you know where the spare toilet rolls are kept, dammit. I trunked that last attempt at the novel, and opened a new page. One hour each morning, and I guarded that time like Heimdell guards Asgard. Was it easy? No. The pull of ‘other things’ was strong, and that required another mind-shift: it’s an hour, other things can wait an hour. And they could.

Was the writing easy? Hell no. I needed to get past the pressure that I had to write ‘x’ amount of words. And here’s a tip: you need to be kind to yourself while guarding that time. Some days I’d write a couple of hundred words, other days a couple of thousand. But you know what became easier? Guarding that time. And once I did, once I got past the guilt (fuck guilt with the power of a thousand suns), the words came. The story flowed. Yet I think the story-flow had a lot more to do with the percolating and that I was ready to write the novel. TIME gave me the opportunity to do so.

One hour a day was my minimum writing time. I upped it to two hours a couple of weeks in, and was mindful of the editing projects I had. That extra hour writing time in the morning meant I worked later into the evening on editing projects. And this is where my privilege comes in. I’m lucky that I work from home (and I work damn hard at my job, no question), but that means I can take that time. I also have a super supportive partner who loves to cook, and while one of my kids is still at school, both are older and can look after themselves. I’m fully aware not everyone is in my boat.

This is where the ‘tweaking’ comes in. If you don’t have an hour, try half an hour. Hell, take five or ten minutes and ‘sprint’ words. Set a timer, write like a demon until that bell rings. Guard that time like Heimdell. Up the time if and when you can. But form that habit. From ‘x’ time to ‘x’ time is nothing but writing time. It’s not about word count, it’s about TIME. Time to do the thing that soothes the soul.

We’re all busy. Life’s like that. And there’ll be times when you don’t feel like writing, that there are other things that need to take precedence. It’s happened to me, and I took five minutes one day as it was really all I had, but it was more to keep the habit. Once it’s a habit, it does become easier. You look forward to it, and it makes you all the more keen to ensure you do make the time. And those days you just don’t have it? Well, you just don’t have it. Be kind to yourself. Just try to not make the ‘I don’t have the time’ become the habit because it’s easy as hell to slip into it.

If you don’t have the time every day, then set aside time on the weekend if you can. Just one day. See what happens.

As I said at the beginning of this post, how I worked through writing the first draft may not work for you, but if there’s something in here you can work with, that you can tweak to your lifestyle, to all the many things you’re juggling, especially in these Covid Times, then take it and run with it, my friend. We all need more books, all need more stories to immerse ourselves in. Why not let it be your tale?

 

Novel, Ramblings, Writing

How to not ‘finish’ a draft and still be finished.

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I’m a short story writer. I love the form – the challenge to write a complete story in limited space. It’s almost a security blanket of a sort. My happy place. My safe space. Anyone who knows me well, knows I’m terrified of writing a novel. There is video evidence of this, where you can quite literally see the fear in my eyes all the way through this. The scale and scope has always put a fear in me. But something strange happened on the way through the pandemic. I wrote a novel. Not only did I write it. I loved writing it. Loved the characters and the shitty paths they have to take. The monsters I created and the mythos I imagined onto the page. And I did in just under two months.

Let me say again. Novels terrified me.

In early March, just before the pandemic hit, I managed to slip a milestone birthday through just before everything got locked down. My best friend, Devin Madson, made the journey from the wilds of regional Victoria up to Sydney to celebrate with me (she’s amazing like that).

Dev has been a constant in her “write the novel!”, as she knows there’s been one percolating for a while. Her support and understanding, her talking me through the fear and her kicks up the bum have edged me ever closer to taking the dive. Then, and I have the exact day – May 20 – I started. I finished July 17. All 139,454 words of it.

Aaand, that’s where the title of the post comes in. You see, I didn’t write ‘End’ on this draft. I didn’t ‘finish’ in the dictionary sense of the word, or probably in a lot of people’s sense of the word, but the draft was done.

The draft wasn’t finished yet it was.

I had a moment, rather, a lot of long moments of: I can’t be finished because I haven’t written ‘End’ on this baby! A stubborn part of me insisted THERE ARE RULES! THIS IS HOW IT WORKS! KEEP WRITING UNTIL ‘THE END’! Yet the Muse was sitting back, arms crossed, shaking their head – nope, we know how it ends, there are front and middle sections that don’t hold up to that end, this draft is done.

The Muse was right. So while I didn’t ‘finish’ the draft, I finished the draft.

imagination

I’d been so caught up on how I believed a novel should be written that I was forcing myself to push on when I didn’t need to. To force myself to an end I knew, and believed I had to get down on the page even when it sat well formed in my head. I knew the destination of this story, and those last few steps along its stones weren’t needed for it to be complete. I’d also written scenes within those final chapters – steppingstones to the marks I needed to hit.

Look, this is all a learning process for me, and while I work as an editor with authors on their novels, and know how this process works, advise how this process works… it’s a different beast when applied to oneself, especially when deep in the throes of those final chapters where you can see the end just beyond the hill. It’s so close you can almost touch it. The veritable gold at the end of the rainbow. Yet looking back, I had a bunch of gold along the way. Pieces I’d stashed in character and dialogue, in worldbuilding and plot-promise. I didn’t need the hoard at the end to know the draft was rich enough to move to the next stage. That mind-shift was necessary to understand that this draft was finished despite not writing ‘End’.

So the weekend was spent honing motivations for my two MCs (my storytellers), and three others who have major impact on the plot. I’m very close to finishing the chapter summaries that will guide and focus the second draft of The Novel (still no working title). I also have a family tree for the gods of this world, and an overly detailed mythos (worldbuilding is way too much fun it seems and I can get distracted…).

This has been a hell of a learning curve for me, but it’s also been a joy. And if you’d said to me three months ago that I’d have the first draft of a novel done by July, oh how I’d have laughed at you. If you’d told me three months ago that not only would I have a novel draft completed, but that I’d enjoyed the process and that I thought the draft was good, I’d have thought you mad.

Admitting the draft is good is a difficult thing, especially admitting it openly. I’ve been taking some big steps here, and as such, I’m going to start a series of blog posts detailing the process I’ve taken to get here. My process isn’t going to work for everyone, hell, it might not work for anyone, but if someone can get something from it that may kickstart them into tackling a novel (or a trilogy – yes, I’ve jumped with both feet), then that would be very cool.

Right then, I’m off to join the very broken Wren and the very broken Seda in their very broken world.

If you take nothing else from this post, know that you can write that first draft too, no matter how terrifying the thought of doing so is.

Also, fuck. Because it’s not a post from me without at least one curse word.

 

 

Cool stuff, Life and stuff, publishing, Ramblings, Writing

So, I didn’t win a thing…

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And that’s okay. It’s better than okay. It’s pretty damn awesome. It’s career-goal, achievement-unlocked awesome!

It’s been about two weeks since the Aurealis Awards were announced, and while my short story, Child of the Emptyness (Grimdark Magazine), was a finalist in the fantasy short story category, it didn’t get over the line. That honour went to one of the best humans I know, J. Ashley Smith for his tale: The Further Shore.

For those who don’t know, the Aurealis Awards are the premier literary awards for genre fiction in Australia. With the amount of talent on these shores, becoming a finalist is a massive undertaking and I count this as a hell of a win. To be included in this shortlisting was a welcome surprise, and I was chuffed to be on the ticket with one of my closest ‘people’ – the wonderfully crazy Alan Baxter – plus the other amazing authors putting out stellar work not only in this category but all categories.

That’s not to say I wouldn’t have loved the win – we all want to win, we’d all like awards and trophies and that acknowledgement of the work we put into musings. But small steps are forward momentum, and forward momentum is good momentum. Next step in career goal – Aurealis win.

bloody pen

Child of the Emptyness has an unusual origin – it was born from rage. Too often I was seeing female characters in battle situations being the only ones who cried or were horrified by the sight of blood (note for dude-bros: blood isn’t foreign to us, we see it every month for goddamn years), and I was done. From that rage Nyrra was born in all her blood-wearing, human-sacrificing, don’t-fuck-with-me glory. Is she empathetic? Maybe not, but she was never really drawn that way. She’s unapologetically herself. That’s what I like about her.

When I subbed this story to Grimdark Magazine, I was hopeful of a shortlisting, then chuffed to bits with an acceptance. The Aurealis finalist berth was the icing on a very cool cake, and while I couldn’t quite land the ‘cherry’ (yep, I see it), all told, it’s been pretty sweet.

There are people I need to thank that helped me get there. Adrian Collins of Grimdark Magazine for selecting and having faith in my story, and Mike Myers for his excellent editorial touch. And Devin Madson whose constant kicks up the bum to get the story written and her deft insight brought Nyrra fully into the light.

So while I didn’t win a thing, I won so very much. This finalist nod came at a time when I was seriously doubting my ability to tell a good story, a worthy story. We all have those moments. Sometimes they’re fleeting while other times those moments burrow deep, latching talons to bone and tainting your storyteller-marrow. It’s a world of shit, that feeling, but I’ll take the days where the talons aren’t as sharp, where the ‘I can do this’ voice drowns out the ‘no you can’t’.

And for those of you who also didn’t win a thing, I feel you. Keep writing, keep honing your craft, keep making magic – it’s the best gig in the world.

Editing, publishing, Writing

Let’s talk about slush, ba-by…

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Let’s talk about you and me… Okay, okay, so my flashback to the ’90s is a little sad but kinda on point for this blog post. As one of the editors for the SNAFU anthologies, and with an upcoming submission window opening, Matthew Summers and I would like to talk about stories, slush, and selections.

Disclaimer time. The information provided here does not guarantee Matt and I will select your story for publication – plot, character, and voice will. But don’t send us a romance tale when it’s military monster horror we’re after. We will cut you.

Right then. Let’s kick this baby off with the guidelines for the open sub window for SNAFU: Last Stand (just click that link). While stories subbed to Cohesion Press have specific marks that need to be hit, one thing EVERYONE needs to understand when subbing a tale to ANY market is to not only READ the guidelines but ADHERE to them (the adhering is the most important part). Know your market.

Slush, we’ve all been there. Jostling for position, stuck in the hell that is the slush pile, shouting ‘look at me’ as you push toward the roped-off area that is the shortlist. So how do you get past the cordon? Look, reading is subjective – what I like someone else may not (they’re wrong), but if the past couple of SNAFUs have taught me anything, it’s that Matt and I are pretty much on the same page when it comes to story selection. Not once have we had to fight it out (I’d win because I fight dirty, just sayin’). But your opening line, your opening paragraph, has to hook us and the following paragraphs need to reel us in. Your start needs to be strong, and it needs to build from there.

Stuck in Hell by 13UG-13th

Your aim, at this point, is to get onto that shortlist, and a killer opening scene is just the way to do it. Does that mean exploding out of the gate all guns blazing? Perhaps. We love high-action tales, and that’s bound to grab our attention. But it can also be that one line that sets the tone for what’s to come. One of my favourite opening lines from a story in SNAFU: Resurrection is from Conviction by NX Sharps – ‘On the 152nd day of our posting at Fort Conviction, Private Olyver Bagwell shit himself to death.’  That certainly had us take notice.

But the follow-up has to hold water. If your story doesn’t make good on its opening promise, then you could be in some trouble. Think about the story you’re wanting to tell, of the character(s) leading us through. A tale well written isn’t going to resonate as much as one that has me and Matt fate-invested.

That being said, well-written is definitely going to get you a look-in. We want narrative that moves a story forward, we want wordsmiths who know how to give us those evocative visuals that bring the horror, the fear, the dread. Active voice is your friend here. Spelling and grammar? We got that, but too many errors and we’re pulled from the story – it’s the same for all those babies sitting in slush piles.  

With the theme of Last Stand, characters will need to make their mark here. Interpret Last Stand as you will, there are an infinite number of ways to incorporate that into your story, but make that tale linger, make us think about it long after we’ve finished reading. And give us action. Make our hearts beat furiously, give us those ‘oh shit’ moments, and make your monsters fucking terrifying. Remember, this is horror, monster horror… with guns and shit.   

One of the best and hardest part of this process is the final selection from the shortlist. Matt and I have passed on some truly great stories, which is always a difficult thing to do. And we don’t take these decisions lightly – a lot of time goes into decision-making, a lot of discussion and back and forths until we have the mixture just right. We don’t make acceptances as we go; something we love early on may not make the cut because a later story in a similar vein resonates more. Our aim here is to provide our readers with a variety of kick-arse tales, where you don’t know what’s coming but you’re hanging for it just the same. The overriding theme that ties them together, obviously, is ‘last stand’. Make it count.

So while I hope this helps you to understand our process, I also hope it helps you to understand the process for any slush pile you find yourself in. Writing truly is the best gig in the world, and rejections are a part of that. We know. Matt and I both sit the other side of the table, we’ve had stories accepted and we’ve faced that sting of rejection. We understand the work, the effort, the time and the angst that goes into getting those words onto the page, of wrangling your imagination into narrative. We salute every one of you.

And for those of you who make it to that final ToC, just a note here to let you know the work has only just begun. There will be edits. We may ask for tweaks, we may ask for rewrites, we may cut a little, we may cut a lot. Thing is, we’ve been doing this a long time, we know our audience and we know what they like. Be professional, not precious. Co-operation is key here. That’s a two-way street, and we have cut stories because of bad author behaviour. Don’t be that person. Keep communication lines open and listen to us as we’ll listen to you. Our aim here is to get the most out of your story, and we will work hard to make it so.

But just before I go, as you may have seen, the introduction for SNAFU: Last Stand will be written by Tim Miller (yes, of Deadpool and the new Terminator fame). As such, we understand the slush pile may well be large – Tim will be reading the final tales. And if that isn’t a reason to send us your very best, I don’t know what is.

Submission window for SNAFU: Last Stand opens April 1st, 2019. (No, that’s not a joke. Yes, we are laughing.)

Cool stuff, publishing, Ramblings, Writing

Awards and Such Things

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So a thing happened last week. My story, Child of the Emptyness (Grimdark Magazine #17), made the shortlist for the Aurealis Awards in the ‘Best Fantasy Short Story’ category. To say I’m stunned is an understatement. To say I’m chuffed to bits – also understatement.

Apart from the awesomeness that is being shortlisted, what makes this doubly, or even triply special is the amount of friends I find myself amongst – two of which are ‘my people’ (yes, it’s a thing, we all have them, I wrote about it). It’s a bit of a convoluted web this one, as I find myself sharing the fantasy story nod with one of my closest of people, Alan Baxter, who also got a nod in the ‘Best Fantasy Novel’ category, which also contains another of my closest of people (and bestie), Devin Madson.

Oh, but it doesn’t stop there! Also please find drinking buddy and he of the best-laugh-ever, J Ashley Smith in the Fantasy Short category. Add in the most wonderful Sam Hawke in the Fantasy Novel shortlist and… how the hell are you supposed to choose?  Huh? Huh?

And there are so many more: Joanne Anderton, Kaaron Warren, Rivqa Rafael, Maria Lewis, Shauna O’Meara, Kylie Chan… I couldn’t be more pleased for these wonderful people and amazing authors. The breadth of talent in this list is incredible to see – Aussie fiction is a deep, rich pool of unique voices that deserve to be read.

Make Good Art

But I want to make a shout-out to those who didn’t make the list. That’s right, you there, who sits down and makes word-babies every day (or every week, or whenever you can), you’re a goddamn star. To those who have the writer-imposteritis shouting in the ear yet still create worlds that are as vivid as the one in which we live – keep creating! To those who hope their tales will get the nod for which they so wish, then wonder what they need to do when their name doesn’t appear – I see you, I hear you, I feel you… I am you. We’ve all been there. Don’t give up. Because that character that’s whispering in your ear, urging you to tell their story may just be the tale those judges need. And if not? Well, you’ve created. You’ve put yourself out in the world, given joy to those who read it, and you should be damn well proud.

You got this.

Life and stuff, publishing, Ramblings, Writing

The Write People

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Let’s talk about people. Not random strangers or the fabulous old guy I saw at the bus stop today shouting at passing cars, but those writerly people other writerly people can’t do without… or shouldn’t do without. (This is going somewhere, I swear.)

All right, so we all know writing is a solitary endeavour. I’m talking about the actual act of it – sitting in front of the pc, the laptop, or putting pen to paper old-school. But it shouldn’t be a lonely one. There’s a misguided “romantic” notion of writers holing themselves up in a room, coffee cups balanced precariously as you tap away like a crazy person, the outside world and living people some figment of your imagination because you live wholly within the created and among your characters. And while the coffee cups and crazy person might have a ring of truth, writers need that connection to other writers.

My partner, bless his sarcastically-gifted soul, refers to them as ‘your people’, and he knows when I need to reconnect (for the sanity of us all) … although it’s usually preceded by “day nine of you in your pyjamas”.

This weekend I get to hang out with one of my favourite ‘your people’ – Devin Madson. She makes the trip up to Sydney every year for ComicCon where we can talk all things books, stories, wrangle ideas, talk work, and just shoot the shit. It’s also where we get to catch up with our other writerly friends and revel in the successes of this year and where we think our imaginations will take us next.

There’s a solidarity among writers – no one knows the highs and lows of writing and publishing, the “I’m not good enough”s or the sometimes crippling writer-imposteritis; they’ll empathise, sympathise, and let you know you’re not alone in this gig.

a-mindful-installationA Mindful Installation by Jennie Lynn Paske

But Devin is more than just ‘my people’. You may have seen my announcement of a short story sale to Grimdark Magazine. I’m super chuffed about the sale, not just because it’s a pro-sale, and not just because the story was good enough to be accepted but that the story was actually written. I’m time poor. I run a successful editing business, and work will always take precedence – bills to pay, food to eat, you know the drill –  which means when something has to give, it’s usually writing and sleep (and fuck those people who say “if you want to write, you’ll find the time”, you can shove your self-righteous, guilt-tripping bullshit up your arse… but that’s a post for another day).

Where was I? Ah, yes, Devin. She knows how time poor I am, but she also knows the less I write the more antsy I become.  So with gentle nudges and on-point questioning, she pushed me to write the story that had been gnawing at me, that I thought would be a good fit for GdM. When that first draft was done, she sliced into it like a writing partner should – cutting away the unnecessary and drawing out the good. And so ‘Child of the Emptyness’ was born, and without her it would still be gnawing at my grey matter and making me feel like a failed writer. I also get to share the Grimdark Magazine ToC with her and her awesome story, ‘A Touch of Malice’ – it’s a hell of a win-win.

I’ve written posts about the ‘village’ needed to raise a book, a story but all writers need ‘their people’. You may think you don’t have them, but you do. They’re the ones who will kick you up the bum when they know it’s a kick up the bum you need; they will ask if you are writing with genuine interest and without pressure; they volunteer to critique your work because they want to read your stories, they want you to succeed. This doesn’t have to be an every-day thing, likely it isn’t. But it’s there, and that’s enough to feed the soul.

So a shout-out to my closest of people: Devin Madson (who makes me a better writer, and makes me want to be a better writer); Kirsten Cross (killer storyteller, maker of shenanigans, and my sister from another mother); Alan Baxter (you know why, mister – it’s all in the ‘at least…’ 😊); James A Moore (the kindest of ‘kind sir’s); and Matthew Summers, who never fails to keep me on track.

So find your people, revel in your people, and be the ‘my people’ for others. Like I said, the act of writing is a solitary endeavour, it shouldn’t be a lonely one.

Life and stuff, Ramblings, Writing

I am woman, hear me swear

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This post is brought to you by a random person’s ludicrous assumption that writers who swear (in their books or in any other medium in which they choose to write ‒ yes, even social media) are held to some imaginary higher standard because they should be “capable of being far more eloquent”.

Fuck that noise.

This was in relation to an opinion piece, and much “offence” was taken by the use of the ‘c-word’ (not actually used in the piece), and the ‘f-word’, and the further assertion that the use of those words was especially offensive to women.

She found them offensive, I did not. I am woman, hear me swear. This, somehow, makes me a bad feminist, writer, and woman? Not sure really. Because again, fuck that noise. You’re not my gatekeeper. You’re not the gatekeeper for all women, everywhere, at any given time. Like ever.

I swear. A lot. I use fuck as a noun, a verb, an adjective and have, on occasion, used it as an adverb. I use it to describe things, decry things, denounce and deny things. I use it to uplift, to cheer, to encourage without fear. I use it to heal, in solidarity, to proclaim and protest. I use it as a weapon, a shield; hell, I’ve used it in jest. Don’t tell me it’s only for characters who are villainous, don’t equate it with rape on your soapbox of innocence. I’ll use the word however I choose – my life, my story, my fucking muse.

And I’ll do it in goddamn rhyme.

swear words

I’m a writer – words are my playground. All of them. I can use any I like, any that fit the idea, the narrative, the exposition, voice, character, dialogue I’m wanting to convey. I write horror and grimdark, there’s going to be ‘the swears’. As an editor, it’s my business to know words, their context, their use as storytelling and character devices. This includes all the swears.

And all the swears includes the word ‘cunt’. Yes, I use it. And I own it when I use it. I use it in writing, in dialogue – for characters and in my own. I’ve been called it and called out for it; don’t wear it, don’t use it. It’s offensive, derogatory, demeaning and vulgar. It’s a word that I’ll use, and you need to get over it.

So don’t come at me with your holier-than-thou attitude when you clearly don’t want to debate.

There are those who boo-hoo writers who use curse words in their writing, that it shows classlessness, an inability to write and use words “they” find offensive. That a “true” writer would find other words to get their point across… because by all the gods, vanilla writing that all sounds the same is exactly what readers want. Yes, let’s censor our characters! Why say: “off you fuck” when the snark of “off you fudge” falls so much better from cursed lips. Let’s not be reflective of a character’s true nature, let’s not let natural dialogue flow, or be true to ourselves or our stories.

I’m not going to censor my characters, and I’m sure as shit not going to censor myself because someone else thinks I’m doing things “wrong.” Thing is, I understand that all the swears may not be for you, and that’s fine – you do you. But don’t tell me that I can’t call myself a feminist because I say ‘fuck’ or ‘cunt’ or any other manner of the swears I deem appropriate for me (or my characters). You don’t like it? Well, I’d say you can “fudge” right off.

Editing, publishing, Ramblings, Writing

TO EDIT OR NOT TO EDIT? (A STUPID QUESTION ANSWERED.)

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To write is human, to edit is divine. ~ Stephen King.

You need to edit your work. Let me say that again, just in case you missed it the first time:

YOU. NEED. TO. EDIT. YOUR. WORK.

It’s not a difficult concept to grasp – even the above words are simple, but it appears a lot of writers believe this is a stage that can be skipped or is entirely unnecessary (I shit you not). They’re wrong. So very wrong. Like, drowning in oceans of wrongness. I recently saw someone proclaim they didn’t need to edit their story before subbing; they’d written it in one sitting and it was good enough to sub without an edit.

No.

Just no.

And fuck off.

There’s a certain level of arrogance and ignorance tied into believing your work, your stories, don’t need another set of eyes to go over it. Forget the fact that you might have misspellings, verb tense issues, punctuation and dialogue anomalies; that your plot isn’t on point, your character is inconsistent, or, hell, that the story just doesn’t make sense. How do you know the tale you’ve visualised has transferred to the page? Do you just not care? Or, are you so sure of your own “perfection” that no other input is necessary? That’s some high-level cognitive dissonance right there.

There are some stories that do just flow from your fingertips onto the page, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need at least a beta reader, someone to give you feedback, to ask questions of plot or dialogue or story direction. Things that will make your story better. Why would an author not want that? Why would you not want to improve not only your story, but your writing?

I’m a professional editor (yes, got the certificates and the industry experience to prove it), and I’m also a writer. Do I edit my own work? Of course I do. Do I send it to others to beta read? Damn straight. Do I have someone else edit it? Hell yes I do. Why? Because I’m too close to the story to see any issues it may have, because I want to know whether it makes sense, because maybe a question or note will make the story stronger, clearer, more kick-arse. Because I want MY BEST WORK out in the world, not just my: ‘fuck it, this’ll do’ work.

Of late, I’ve seen a surge in this ‘fuck it’ submission process, the belief that you just write and your subs will be accepted. Sure, there are places that will accept that “work”, and if ‘for exposure’ markets or ‘contributor copy only’ markets are your thing then… well, okay. You keep doing you. But why not aim higher? Do better?

It comes down to how you value what you do. How you value your readers. Writing is a craft, it needs to be honed, practised, built upon, and you never stop learning. EVER. If you believe you don’t need to edit, that you don’t need beta readers or those rejections that make you look again at your story and better it, then stagnant you will be, stale your stories will become.

edit all the words

Look, I can’t make you engage beta readers, I can’t make you use an editor or hell, even make you edit your own work, but I can guaran-damn-tee you, you won’t hit any of the success you’re wanting. Having a bibliography of pubbed stories in mags or anthologies no one’s heard of doesn’t up your author profile as much as you’d like to think it does. Give me a story published in Nightmare Magazine, or Grimdark Mag, Apex or Clarkesworld over multiple stories published in markets even Google would have trouble finding.

Writers are readers, we know the markets that accept only the highest possible standards, and those are the markets professional writers want to crack – and by professional, I mean those who take the process of writing and all it entails, seriously. Who know there’s more to writing than just words on a page.

It all really comes down to choice:

Be the writer who wants their work to be the best it can be, who wants constructive criticism for the sake of the story, who wants to be better, do better, and to break into those pro-paying markets who have the high standards for which you strive. To have publishers ask you to sub to them because they’ve seen your work and want it; to have readers search for your work because your tales resonated with them, because they love your storytelling.

Or…

Don’t.

Life and stuff, publishing, Ramblings, Reading, Writing

Don’t Be A Cock (*trademark pending*)

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There’s little doubt you’ve heard of the furore/shitstorm/WTFedness going on over in Romancelandia regarding a certain author and their trademarking of a particular word to the exclusion of all other authors/titles. If you haven’t, head over to Twitter and the #CockyGate saga. Be careful, it’s a rabbit hole – you’ve been warned.

This isn’t how I intended to spend the start of my Monday morning, but I’m caffeinated and well, it’s Monday. So while I will wade into the sea of shit this author (she’ll get no naming rights here) has created, I’m not going to go into the epically stupid thing she’s attempting nor the blatant hypocrisy she trying to foist into her narrative (it’s outstanding), or the ‘How to Commit Career Suicide’ this so very much looks like. But I will address a few things; while this author plies her trade in the romance genre, this affects every author in every genre and sub-genre.

The first thing to get straight is that it’s a trademark she’s attempting, not copyright – two different things. If you’re going to go head-to-head with her and/or weigh in on this debate, please get that piece of information right. I’m not going to go into the legalities of it here, there are greater (and more willing) minds than mine to do that. But use the right term.

This author is using intimidation tactics to have other indie authors with the word ‘cocky’ in their book titles make changes or she will sue. Yep, you read that right. And one of the things she continually spouts is her “graciousness” to allow them to keep their earnings and reviews, so the changes they “must” make aren’t a big deal and won’t cost the author anything.

Yeah, that’s the bullshit I want to talk about. Indie, or self-published authors don’t have the backing (and funds) of those authors traditionally published. It costs money to edit your book, it costs money for cover art, it costs money for cover design/layout, it costs money to advertise. All of these expenses come out of the often very empty pockets of an indie author. Any changes to books currently uploaded to any and all platforms will require funds to have those changes made. It will cost not only money but time, and time lost often equals money lost, potential readers lost, potential sales lost. To threaten another author into doing so is delusional at best, reprehensible at worst.

All writers, myself included, write because to not do so hurts the soul. To have that passion stomped on, threatened, bullied, isn’t going to win you any favours, it isn’t going to win you readers, and it sure as shit isn’t going to win you market-share (or dominance).

Look, publishing is hard, getting your name out and your books sold in today’s market is hard, but you don’t go about it by stepping on other authors, you don’t go about it by trying to bankrupt other authors out of the market. It’s a big fucking table we’re sharing, and there’s room for everyone. And there are plenty of readers to go around.

Think of it as Ægir’s feast – your ale horns will never be empty, and there’s a regenerating boar outside providing limitless bacon for all.

Don’t try and block seats at the table, lest you want the chair pulled out from beneath you.

Oh, and don’t be a cock… unless you’re this ↓ fabulous!

cock

Life and stuff, Ramblings

Minefields and zen

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The last six months have been… well, a little bit shit. There’s been good happenings, don’t get me wrong, but working through grief is a minefield. Good days. Bad days. Utter shite days. Minefield. Work has been a constant, which is good – get to pay bills and eat, always a bonus. And I’ve been writing, which is better.

Still, work has been eating up a lot of my time. I love my job, so much so that I don’t quite consider it “work”, although the hours I pull would beg to differ. The last two months especially so. Working from home is one of the many bonuses for my job; but it also means I don’t quite get to work set hours. This means I can be working ‘til midnight. I’m a night-owl, so that helps. I’m also up at 6.30am to squeeze in a run before organising the kids for the day.

It’s a long day. And of late, they’ve been exhausting days… weeks, really. Months, truly. The stories I’ve been working on have been amazing, but the body and mind can only take so much before it puts on the brakes whether you like it or not.

But better than that, is a partner who says: “Fuck this shit, we’re going away – you need a break before you break.” (He’s amazing.)

So we’re packing up the fam, and heading to the country. More specifically, my father’s farm. Three hundred acres of rolling hills, no Internet, crappy phone reception, solar-run facilities, and nothing but birdsong and cattle cries.

I hope to recharge, to do absolutely nothing, and perhaps deal with shit a little more than I have been. Maybe read. Perhaps write.

Remember to take those breaks, folks. Revitalise and recharge. I’ll see you on the other side of this holiday, a calmer, more zen person… and blogging far more regularly!

Farm