Unblocked at the Ollie Irene

I did this thing on Friday. Something I've never done as a writer. I took a pen and legal pad into a nice restaurant, sat alone at the bar, and made notes about a book I'm writing. I must have looked like a food critique, jotting little nitpicks about the consistency of the course-ground Dijon mustard.

How embarrassing.

Look, writing in public isn't really for me. Unless it's a coffee shop. For whatever reason, be it the smell of ground beans, the whir of the thing that does whatever that makes the slurping noise and the steaming of the milk, which results in my Big Girly Coffee - it all sort of fits together into this haven for writing creativity.

But something happened Friday. I had been blocked on this scene in my sequel. A frustrating, evil mix of plot, device, and character that I just couldn't fit together to carry the story forward, and all I wanted to do was escape. Little editorial fixes for another book were calling out my name, begging me to hop manuscripts. Basically, writing had become hard.

And then, a revelation.

When writer's block breaks, you can grab any number of cliched descriptions to explain what happens in your head. Flood gates, geyser, volcano...blah, blah, blah. Basically, you have lot of new ideas all at the same time.

That release causes a bit of a panic and you think if you can't grab all those ideas bouncing around your head that somehow, they'll bounce right out of your ear or something. The trick is writing down as much as you can, and hope for the best.

So there I was, me in a restaurant, sitting at a bar alone, scribbling in a notebook. A bit sad, really. Though, the wait staff seemed to really be on their A Game, if not a bit nervous about my opinion of the Boudin.

Figure I got, like, seventy-five percent of those ideas before they either bounced out of my ear, or were drowned in Old Fashions. 

On LUCK

A Repost from the Archive at FROMTHEWRITEANGLE:
On LUCK
by S. L. Duncan

If you’re reading this, you’ve probably read enough articles about the publishing industry to teach a writing studies course at your local community college. And no doubt, you’ve probably read somewhere that a big part of making it, of getting published, falls into the hands of pure, dumb luck.

This is not one of those articles.

Look. There are a hundred different ingredients in the recipe of becoming a good writer, and luck is absolutely one of them. With enough time and hard work, you’re going to pull something out of the oven one day that ain't half bad. If the stars align, maybe the world will get a taste.

So be patient. In the meantime, stop and take stock of just how lucky you already are at this moment.

I’ve suffered through a few identity crises. Probably having one right now. I think most authors do. Hell, I think most humans do. Nobody’s ever been born knowing what they’re going to be passionate about in life. No doctor ever popped a kid out of his mother, spanked him and announced, “He’ll make a fine plumber.” A lot of folks stumble through their years, bouncing off of failed efforts and lost interests, seeking something that sparks them to wake up to their own lives. It’s one of the biggest obstacles of growing up: discovering yourself through your passions. And who the hell knows what they're passionate about until they've tried it? How many would-be Speilbergs never held a camera? How many would-be Ronoldos never kicked a football?

It happens though - people luck into something they love. They discover a talent they want to grow and nurture. They figure out a small part of who they are in the world, and let me tell you, that is nothing short of extraordinary. But if you look hard enough you can spot them, these lucky souls. That actor that lets the role consume her. That artist that expands the notion of creativity. The teacher that opens up the universe to young minds. The janitor that beams with pride at the shine on the linoleum.

And then there’s you. 

You found a pen and paper and spilled a few words onto a page and in doing so, you found joy. How lucky is that? How lucky is it that you’ve found something you love? Maybe you can make a career out of it and maybe you can’t. Who cares, though? You’ve found this and it’s yours.

With all the distractions and pressures of life, it’s easy to linger in your day-to-day existence, consumed by work, by reality television, by whatever, carrying on just to satisfy that power bill. But even if that still sounds like your life, you’ve got your writing. It’s that little corner of light in your life that you can run to and just let loose your passion and somehow, everything else becomes clearer. You become clearer.

If only everyone were fortunate enough to find their passion. 

Lucky you.

S. L. Duncan writes young adult fiction, including his debut, the first book in The Revelation Saga, due in 2014 from Medallion Press. You can find him blogging onINKROCK.com and on Twitter.

Where the Atmosphere is Thick

These past few months I’ve been woefully out of touch. My blog sits unused with a post dated from early September dangling out there in the digital ether. Notes from my agent are getting stale on my desk. A sequel to The Revelation of Gabriel Adam awaits a completion of the first draft. 

Yet, I just can’t seem to get it together.

Perhaps it’s having an eight-month-old child at home to contend with, or the grind of trying to lock down a job, but motivation has been a struggle to find.

Worse, I’m writing this from a coffee shop in Seaside, Florida. In paradise, it’s difficult to find motivation to do much of anything.  Something struck me, though, as the barista handed me my cappu-latte. This place has atmosphere.

The shop isn’t a large one and the constant whir of grinding beans and tinking of glass cups on saucers makes it seem even smaller. The bar takes up most of the floorspace, selfishly hoarding elbow room for the staff and leaving only a long and narrow one-sided bench pressed up against the opposite wall with a few chairs full of customers waiting on their orders. At the far wall is a six-top where I’ve managed to spread out most of my books, notes, and computer in an effort to have osmosis jump-start my creativity.

I don’t know what kind of crowd I was expecting for this Thanksgiving week, but Seaside is slammed. Two deep at the till, the bubbly-eyed girl is having a difficult time fielding orders, credit cards, and dollar bills as they fly through the air. Some guy behind her with a face full of scruff and a head full of purposefully messed up hair is orbiting her in a kinetic angst fueled by the orders stacking up by the register. He barks out for another pickup to a customer that’s inevitably walked away.

All along the walls are black and white canvas pictures of smiling Ngäbe people picking coffee beans. One giant, close-up color image of calloused hands holding a scoop of red beans over an overflowing wicker basket hangs over my table. I wonder how many cappu-lattes that basket would make. The homage to a notoriously underpaid and exploited race seems an odd decoration choice amongst the six-dollar beverages and I’m struck by a twinge of guilt as I sip mine.

People pass by the front windows, some of them shopping; others going to or from the beach. The temperature hovers somewhere in the lower sixties - cold enough for anyone from the south to wear a jacket and warm enough for anyone from the north to wear a bikini. It’s a laughable mix of skin and polar fleece.

I'm reminded what atmosphere can do for the imagination, whether you’re reading or writing. It can be like spice. Too little may leave you in a flavorless boredom and too much can overpower.  For now, at least, I’ve found enough to inspire some momentum. If you’re keen, stop by FromtheWriteAngle.com, where we can talk a little more specifically about atmosphere and writing.

Avoiding the Writer's Wall (FTWA)

Vacation time! In my absence, here's a repost of a contribution to FROM THE WRITE ANGLE. Back soon!

Avoiding the Writer's Wall

by Stephen L. Duncan

In my fairly limited existence as an author, there have been many truisms that I’ve run across while trying to get the words onto the page. More often than not, these little bits of advice on the dos and the don’ts of being a writer get stuck somewhere in the back of my mind, only to be quickly forgotten. I'm just stupid like that. One, though, rings truer than others and I try to keep it in mind whenever a distraction attempts to call me away from the work.

Writing a novel is all about momentum.

You stick a word down, then another. Soon you have a sentence, and a paragraph follows until a page is filled. You do this over and over, and eventually you'll have all the pages your little spark of an idea needs to be a story.

That’s fairly simple, isn’t it?

Indeed. Yet there are always obstacles in our way. You’ve heard of one, no doubt. The dreaded Writer’s Block. I’ve never suffered from it, but it sounds horrible—a sort of frozen paralyzed state where words just don’t exist in the mind. Momentum can help prevent this little hiccup, because words are like water and a book, after all, is merely the result of a broken dam. The faster the flow, the harder it is to stop.

What I have experienced recently with the novel I just tuned in to my agent is the Writer’s Wall. If Writer’s Block is this leaded state of being that weighs you down, immobilizing you, Writer’s Wall is something you crash into.

In a way, it’s the opposite of Writer’s Block. You have too much going on in your writing life, too much spilling out of your head onto the page. And then, like something out of NASCAR, you hit the wall. (Hey, I’m from Alabama. I can only go so long in a day without a racing metaphor.) Your words are broken, not working, and your story seems futile. Worse, you're no longer certain you should be writing it.

The symptoms are these: From an abnormally confident valuation of your own work, often joined by a heightened productivity, you will experience a sudden onset of fear of publication characterized by a consuming doubt in your own taste and talent. Every word choice will be in question, every sentence’s worth made suspect. You will begin to negatively compare yourself to notable successful writers. While ideas and stories may flourish, you will encounter a paralyzing lack of esteem that prevents these ideas and stories from being realized.

A lot can steer you into a Writer’s Wall. Rejection. Negative feedback. Too much momentum. The list could go on and on. But the trick to pulling out of the crash is to take some time away from your work. Let it marinate in your head a little. Slow down. Live some of your life away from your computer.

Of course, if you’re like me, you might read this and then quickly store it in some recessed part of your mind, ready to be forgotten.

Write hard, y’all.

Stephen L. Duncan writes young adult fiction, including his debut, the first book in The Revelation Saga, due in 2014 from Medallion Press. You can find him blogging on INKROCK.com and on Twitter.

An invitation to YOU!

I've been invited to join the team over at From the Write Angle!  For those who aren't aware of the website, it is a blog dedicated to writers who wish to take that journey towards publication. The contributers range in experience, and cover a wide spectrum of genres and subjects from query letters to marketing, but each member brings a wealth of experience to the table to share.

If you've ever wanted to be a published writer, this blog offers an amazing resource of information on how to navigate the hurdles that stand in your way.

So please stop by and, if you're very kind, follow the blog!

You can find my first post coming on MAY 14th, 2012!

True Storytelling - Han Shoots First

Okay.  You know the story by now.  That famous scene in the cantina on the outer rim of a galaxy far, far away.  If not, here’s a refresher that’s on everyone’s (at least us dorks) mind now that Star Wars Episode I The Phantom Menace is back in the theaters to cash in on the whole 3D craze. 

So, who shot first?  Greedo or Han Solo?

There’re two opinions on this matter – George Lucas’ and everyone else’s.  Just to clear it up: we’re right and he’s wrong.

But why?

A good point, as presented by a commenter in the MSNBC article (citing FPBMurray37 on TotalFilm.com) is that Greedo, that green, bug-eyed alien, competent enough to be hired and entrusted by the most vile gangster in the universe to collect a bounty on the probably low-credit-scoring and delinquent Han Solo, couldn’t have missed.  He was a pro.  Pro enough to track him down to Mos Eisley.  Pro enough to corner his target.  Pro enough to get the drop on Solo at point blank, sitting directly across from him in a pub booth.

All was well with this for many years until, with the magic editing of George Lucas and the Special Editions, Greedo shoots first, putting a nice crater in the wall half a foot away from Han’s head.  And then, of course, Solo kills him, apparently now justified and no longer – at least in George Lucas’ eyes – a “cold blooded killer.”

Okay.  The Greedo Shoots First scenario, much like the commenter pointed out, is not very plausible.  Yet, I suppose, with a little suspension of disbelief, I guess…maybe…it could have happened like Lucas wanted it to.  I mean, that Greedo had some ridiculous hands.  I think there are suction cups on the tips of his noodley fingers.  Must be tough to get a grip on a blaster’s trigger.

So, maybe he fumbled.  All pros do.  This one was just untimely.

The "How" isn't the real issue though.  It's the "Why."  The problem with this justification of Han Solo killing Greedo is that this simple, decades-late edit has ruined the story of Han Solo.  No, in fact, it has ruined Star Wars itself.

You’re thinking, Hey, relax.  It’s just a tweak in a film. 

And you’re right.  Really, I’m not a Star Wars super-fan.  I don’t really care.  But I am a storyteller.  I am very invested in telling good stories and recognizing good stories, and as a storyteller, I’m telling you George Lucas broke Star Wars with that one revision.  As I edit my latest work, seeing the interconnection between character’s actions and their motivations and who they truly are, I find it unbelievable that Lucas failed to recognize all that he was undoing with his changes, especially given the brilliant stories the man has given to the world.

Greedo Shot First and Ruined Star Wars?  Explain yourself.

The Star Wars Universe in its original state – before Special Editions, before Prequels – was a dangerous universe.  Filled with wretched villainy and scum.  A dangerous place of Evil Empires and those who struggled to make ends meet. What gave this sci-fi adventure so much appeal to audiences was the “used” feel of the places, the ships, and the people and aliens that inhabited these worlds.

When Han meets Luke and Ben Kenobi, he takes the job for the money.  He couldn’t give a damn about anything but getting paid.  Because money means survival as much as the gun he carries on his hip.  He’s cocky, he’s hard, and in a universe where men get arms cut off in dive bars whose patrons take brief notice only to go about their drinks as if nothing happened - and he’s at home in it.  To be at home in it you have to be dangerous - as dangerous as the space that surrounds you, if you want to survive.  So what would a smuggler do when cornered?

He would shoot first. 

Normally, if Han were a bit player, nobody would care.  Sure, we’d think, Well, the Star Wars Universe is less dangerous than we thought, and everything is black and white, but whatever.  Except that now, we know exactly how things turn out in this Universe.  Han shooting first means there are good guys and bad guys.  No in between.  That means that Luke and Ben are always safe with Han, because he’d never turn them over when caught by the Death Star tractor beam, because he’s not that kind of guy.  And in Return of the Jedi, there’s no way in hell Luke takes the Emperor’s offer.  All that hesitation and angst?  You can flush it.  Because in this universe, good guys never falter.

Ruined it, you have.

The problem in the Han Solo character arc is that Greedo shooting first deflates Solo’s path to righteousness.  In fact, Greedo shooting first means Solo was never going to abandon Luke to fight the Death Star alone.  After all, Han has been a good guy all along. And good guys fly in an shoot bad guys out of the trench with their walking-carpet co-pilots and lasers.

But when Han shoots first, well, that’s different. Our eyebrows raise.  We’re invested.  We’re guessing at motivations and outcomes.  We recognize that the world these characters play in is multi-dimensional.  It can be unpredictable.   Like our world, the real world.  We see the honesty in how the characters relate to their circumstances, because we see it in our lives, every day. 

That’s my point, as a story teller – something that George Lucas has somehow forgotten.  We create places and characters and we have this god-like power to make them do and act in any way we choose, but if those actions and those characters aren’t true, or real, then what’s the point?  Why would anyone care?

First Draft, We're So Over.

Dear First,

It’s you.  Not me.  I just want that to be clear, in case you’re confused about this break up.

I went out into this world looking for something magical and honest and true, and I found you.  At the time, you were everything I was looking for, but I’m sad to say that I’ve grown since then.  I’ve changed.  But you wouldn’t.  You refused.  For a while, I thought it wouldn’t matter, that you'd be enough.  I had dreams of the perfect match, blinded by my love for you.  Those days were the best of our time together, when everything we did was magic. It was honest and true. 

Then the doubt seeped in.  You felt it, too, I know.  Our love faded, as did the newness of us.  I saw you with different eyes.  You, content for me to parade you into the world your flaws open and exposed as if you were proud of them, and me, seeing your potential inside that you refused to grasp. 

Maybe I wasn't being honest with you.  Or with myself, for that matter.  Maybe I wanted to change you all along and just wasn't able to admit that what we had going wasn't working like it should.  For that, I'm sorry.  That’s a relationship, I guess.  You never know what you truly want until you’re in one.

If I’m being honest, I’m glad we met.  I’m thankful for the time we had together.  For the things we discovered when our bond was strongest. 

We’ll always have 4am.

I learned a lot, thanks to you. I learned what worked for me and what didn’t.  Not to kick you when you’re down, but you’re unbelievably sloppy.  Even proud of it, I think.  I mean, seriously.  You’ve never once even bothered to fix yourself up.  Like you didn’t care about how you reflected on me.

I do.  I do care.  I know we were always about substance, but I’m sorry - in this world, appearances matter.  But I guess not to you.  And that’s okay. You are who you are.  You gotta be you. 

So, we’re over.  I’m moving on.  I’ve met someone, already.  Someone a lot like you, actually, but cleaner and with better manners and a better body.  It’s shallow, I know. 

Such is life.

You’ll always have a special place in my heart. For now, though, we must say goodbye. 

All the best,

Me

TWILIGHT

No, not that Twilight. 

It’s 4am. 

Early.  Way early.  Especially for me, a guy who digs his beauty sleep.  (Though, it hasn’t helped much thus far.)

Even better, it’s this early and I’m up.  Writing. 

Do you know what’s happening at 4am?

Jack squat.  For about three weeks now, I’ve been getting up before work and cranking out from four to six a solid one to two thousand words.  At least three days a week.  I’m averaging five thousand words of free words. 

Yeah.  Free.  The words come no matter how busy my day.  No matter how hectic my life is after work, or what social events hang in the balance.  When getting the nursery is ready, and all I’d rather do is piss off with a glass of whiskey and vegetate in front of the television. 

Five thousand words.  No matter what.

But really, this progress is just a symptom.  It’s an ailment to the greater infection.  The disease? 

Wanting it.  Ambition.  Desire. 

My goal since November has been to write professionally.    Not necessarily as a profession (I’ve yet to get paid for any of my words and baby needs a new pair of, well, frigging everything), but write in a way that respects the craft and respects the amount of hard work that it takes to get anything in this world.  Professionally.  Life will always be there, getting in the way, but if the need is great enough, you can make it happen.

Use the time you have.  All of it.  4am included.  And that’s my cheesedick advice for the morning.  I know.  It’s very Nike of me.  But seriously.  Wake up.  Go for it.  Follow your heart like a pro.  There’s nothing to lose at 4am.

Just do it.

NaNoWriMo: A Retrospective

A day or so before the start of November, I happened to trip across a post about the upcoming NaNoWriMo or, for those who don’t know what it is, National Novel Writing Month.  Writers participate, writing every day in hopes of reaching fifty thousand words in thirty days.  Now, that ain’t a novel (a middle grade children’s book, maybe) but it is a damn good start on one. 

Typically, this sort of thing I don’t get into.  Good or bad, I’m sort of set in my ways as a writer.  I try to write every day, but I don’t always.  And sometimes, I’ll sit and crank out 10k at a time in creative bursts. 

NaNo was one of those things as a writer that the NASCAR race at Talladega was for me living in Alabama: something I always heard about after the fact but didn’t have any desire to participate in.  (I neither care for NASCAR, nor being told how and when to write.)

This year, though, I caught sight of the competition, (or whatever it is) early on a blog.  I figured, what the hell.  With THE REVELATION SAGA awaiting its fate and a YA Civil War revenge story simmering, I decided participation might be a good opportunity to jump into something new. 

So, off I went.

I had a nice start, wrapping up about 10k in half as many days a that amount should take.  I spent some time on research, some time on outlining.  And then I realized I was telling the story from the wrong perspective. 

One of the rules to NaNo is never erase a word.  Here is where I start to diverge from this whole thing.  These rules.   There is something to be said about keeping continuity, quality, and art in mind while you write.  Sometimes those horrible bits need to be removed, lest they spread like cancer to the good parts.  Bad writing is infectious. 

I’m not saying you should edit every bit, but I find that writing a novel requires a reread of some passages, especially if tones and themes are being bookended or mirrored elsewhere.  The better written those passages are, the better the new stuff tends to be. 

Keep in mind that I like my first draft to be as strong as possible.  That doesn’t mean it’s not shit.  It likely is, but at a minimum the story should be structurally sound .  Not perfect, but sound.  It should survive plot and character scrutiny.  A first draft is like the bones of an athlete.  The muscle tone, training, and talent are built and cultivated in the later drafts.

Of course, there is no judging panel ready to crack your knuckles with a ruler.  So, pissing on the rules, I decided to continue in the spirit of NaNoWriMo. 

My final word count is 36,387.  Not too bad, considering I was only able to write for a little over half of the 30 days.   With a pregnant wife, both families in town for Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and football season winding down, that’s all I was willing to spare.

The important thing is, what I’ve written has me excited. There is momentum.  And it’s likely something that I would still be procrastinating about if NaNo hadn’t prodded me into the draft. Mind you, it’s still a mess, but a workable one.   

HUGE CONGRATS: AUTHOR MINDY McGINNIS

It can be woeful journey, this business of getting published.  No wonder that while doing so, many of us hopefuls band together, hand-in-digital hand, to give support, encouragement, and when needed, a shoulder to cry on.  I've made several friends, some of which I've even shared bacon-infused whiskies with, such as Alexa Martin (Girl Wonder, Hyperion 2011), Rachel Hawkins (the Hex Hall series, Hyperion 2011) and Lindsay Leavitt (Princess for Hire series, Hyperion 2010). 

One particular place that I've called home over the years is a website called AgentQuery Connect.  There, a few of us 'veterans' have forged wonderful friendships together as we queried onward, went from agent to agent, or dipped our toes into the shadowy process of submission. 

Well, this year is shaping up very nicely for our group.  First, Sophie Perinot had wonderful success with the sale of her upcoming book The Sister Queens.   Today, it is my pleasure to offer congratulations to Mindy McGinnis!  The press release, per Publishers Marketplace: "Mindy McGinnis's NOT A DROP TO DRINK...to Sarah Shumway at Katherine Tegan Books, in a good deal, at auction, in a two-book deal, by Adriann Ranta at Wolf Literary Services (World)."

It's a great success story and couldn't happen to a nicer person.  To give you a little persective on what a dream-come-true this is, Mindy went from a YA librarian to this:

Nice deal is $1 to $49,000
Very nice deal is $50K to $99K
Good deal is $100K to $250
Significant deal is $250K to $499K
Major deal is $500K and up

Who says the publishing industry is dead?

How Not to NaNoWriMo

A Little Inspiration (Ira Glass on Being Creative)

What's Next?

Now that summer is in the rear view window, with respect to slicked-back hair, Wayfarers, and Don Henley, the publishing industry is moving once again at full speed ahead.

So, what's the next thing?  More vampires?  Werewolves?  Steampunk?  Angels?

Really, nobody knows.  It's like trying to predict the weather.  But it's fun to guess.  One good way to do that is to look at what's popular now and what's coming in the near future.  My agent, John Rudolph has just posted a nice blog entry at the Dystel & Goderich website about the Young Adult Library Services Association's (YALSA) 2011 Teens' Top Ten. It seems paranormal and fantasy are still going strong.

Which, ahem, is very good news.



But what is on the shelves right now doesn't necessarily translate to what's going to be on the shelf tomorrow.  You have to look at what is being pitched to do that.  Luckily, John and his cohorts have just posted the DGLM Childrens Newsletter for Upcoming Submissions.  There are some awesome titles coming up by some talented authors.  And be on the lookout for a special appearance by yours truly.  How I convinced them to let me into that party, I'll never know.

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

You might have noticed that things went on hiatus here at INK ROCK.  It was summer.  It was hot.  And for a minute there, I think I melted in the brains a little.  Did I mention it was hot?  The situation called for a vacay getaway.  More of the beach, more time to dig back into that sequel.

Vacation didn't extend only to me.  The publishing industry takes a little time off for the summer.  And now, with Labor Day behind us, the industry is back in the swing of things. 

In other news: football started!  Both of them!  My Auburn Tigers are back and, strangely, considering their death-walk schedule, winning.  That's college football, for those who might have missed last year when...ahem...we won the national title.  In other football news, soccer has started again though, with the heat, it's still a bit like playing on the surface of the sun .  We won our first game 3-1.  I had a goal pulled back for offsides.  Which I totally wasn't.  Okay, maybe I was.  And I missed side netting on a half volley.  Boo that, too.  In the English Premiere League, my Newcastle United ain't doin' half bad either!

So, in short, we're back and looking for great stories inspired by interesting places.  Football distractions aside, look for regular posts coming weekly!

The Craft of Building Worlds

Just west of Panama City, in what is sometimes called the Redneck Riviera of Florida, there is a town that is anything but.  Rosemary Beach, with its adjoining Barrett Square, looks stolen from a European costal village. 

And that was just the point when the idea for the town was put to dirt, or in this case, sand, in 1995.

The town was built in a way that brings to mind exclusive jet setter destinations.  The south of France.  Greek Isles.  The West Indies.  All of their influence can be seen in the architechture and shops.  Real estate here is expensive; the clientele affluent.  When imagined, what threatened to turn into a mere knock-off had to be as authentic as possible because anything less would easily be sniffed out as a fraud by the well-traveled.

So in this way, Rosemary Beach began as something very contrived, even fake.  Normally, this sort of destination I see for what it is: a theme park.  Artificially flavored.  Something so shallow, one need only scratch the surface to reveal the forgery.

The thing is, I’ve scratched the surface at Rosemary Beach.  Sure, it doesn’t have that organic genesis found in the exotic destinations that inspired it, but the town, for better or worse, works.  It has become real. It has become the idea.

What the designers of Rosemary Beach did is what many authors seek to do every day they pick up a pen and put it to paper – make a world come alive.  When done poorly, the world is exposed for what it is – a cheap imitation.  But when done right, it can pull the you in; make you believe in the magic. 

When I look at Rosemary Beach I am reminded of why it works.  For me, it’s both the details and the lack of details, along with notes of familiarity.  Good world building defines enough and gives enough of a recognizable foundation that the one put into the world is capable of framing the narrative around the new aspects of the author's creation. 

The expereince should be somehow relateable.  It all must work together, too.  Things have to make sense, layer after layer.  People will believe the impossible, but they, however, won't believe the ridiculous. 

Lastly, the world builder leaves room for the imagination to work, grow, and evolve with the story.  After all, it’s nice to be included.  Good architects, like smart authors, know when to let go of the defining, the details, and allow you to make their creation your own, whether it be in your mind for a book or a streetside art and book shop in Barrett Square (see next post: Bookstore Spotlight: The Hidden Lantern). 

So authors, what’s your secret to solid world building?  And readers, what works for you?

Survivors A2792, A2793

Auschwitz. 

The word inspires images from a time when the darkest corners of human nature were exposed, raw and sinister and real.  What today is merely a chapter of history that most would rather turn away from is for others a part of their memory, their life story, as real today as it was seventy years ago.

On Sunday, I had the honor of meeting two such women who are both “blessed and cursed” to be burdened with such memories, having survived Auschwitz II in Berkinau, Poland.  Ruth Scheuer Siegler and her sister Ilse Scheuer Nathan, both born in Germany during the twenties, seemed bright and full of life at Ms. Siegler’s book signing for her memoir My Father’s Blessings: A Story of Survival and Triumph.

There was an amazing turnout in support of the book.  While Ms. Siegler signed copies, my wife engaged Ms. Nathan in a conversation about the Holocaust.  What I came away from listening to her recall this horrible time was her appreciation of the now. 

Hung around the room were pictures of the two sisters along with other survivors in an exhibit called Darkness into Life.  I remember one picture of a man in an apron.  In it he is holding a glass of red wine, with a fine meal spread out in a very nice kitchen.  Beside the picture is his story of life in a Nazi Concentration Camp and how he would get through a day eating only the peel from a potato.  Today he appreciates every morsel on his plate, unable to forget what life had once been like.

And this, too, was what Ilse kept insisting: Be thankful for what you have.  Because you never know. 

I am thankful for having met both women.  Their stories are inspiring and as triumphant as they are heartbreaking. 

How to Succeed at Query Rejection

(The obligatory query post.  Don’t act surprised.  It’s a writing blog.  You knew this was coming.)

There is a place in every writer’s career, a time both mixed with elation from having just finished (and hopefully edited) a manuscript and confusion, where a single question pops into the mind:  What now?

If you’re the type who walks into a bookstore and picks out where on the shelf your book might fit in, the next step is Querying an Agent.  Let’s do ourselves a favor here and side step the whole self publication / ebook / indie road to publication discussion, or for that matter, the argument over the need for an agent.  Firstly, I know jack about self publication and in my experience, an agent is a must.

My blog.  My rules.

I’ve had two agents.  My current one, John Rudolph, is with Dystel & Goderich.  Both relationships began with a simple, one page letter known as a query.  This might get a little elementary, but that’s okay.  If I'm going too fast, please raise your hand.  Remember, there are no stupid questions, only stupid people. 

Right.  Where was I?  Yes, the query letter.  There are many places to learn how to write one, but the website that helped me the most is AgentQuery.com.  Instead of regurgitating (apologies) everything I learned there, I suggest you click the link and get to studying.

Of course, the hook, synopsis, bio format isn’t the only way to write a query, but it worked well enough for me.  Feel free to experiment with what is most effective for you, but remember – the query should be about the book.  It should not be about your inflated dreams of celebrity or all the useless market research you’ve done, offered as evidence for why your book sales will make J.K. Rowling’s figures look like a Girl Scout’s cookie rush invoice.  Do yourself a favor and skip that crap.

The only universally accepted rule to querying is this: your query will be rejected.  The other only universally accepted rule is: follow the submission guidelines of the agent.  Okay, pardon the math there.

Rejection at the query stage is okay.  It should be expected, in fact.  If your manuscript is in great shape (read: polished after several drafts) and your query is an honest reflection of your voice and book, a rejection simply means that there is a conflict of taste. 

And there’s no accounting for taste.

To imagine an agent’s perspective, I like to think of my own regards to foie gras, often found on fine dining menus.  I mean, that’s freaking duck liver.  A dish made from an organ that filters all the impurities and toxins from the blood of an animal that walks around all day in its own feces?  Not my thing.  But that doesn’t mean that the quality and presentation isn’t spectacular.  It just means that for the next several months I don’t want to spend my days helping you perfect the recipe before we sell it in a restaurant.  I’m just not the guy for that.

So don’t be afraid of rejection.  Embrace it as part of the process. 

Since I brought it up, I’ll include my query letter here.  If you have any questions about the querying process, feel free to ask in the comments!

Dear Mr. Agent,

I am querying you today as a former client of William Morris Endeavor, following a heartfelt decision by my agent to cull his fiction catalogue in favor of celebrity memoir and nonfiction.  This manuscript has not been submitted.

When an assassin burns his cathedral home and leaves one innocent murdered in a style not witnessed in centuries, seventeen-year-old Gabriel Adam’s father reveals that Gabriel is one of four Archangels, born human and sent to stop Armageddon.  Now, he must leave behind dreams of attending NYU to fulfill a prophecy kept secret by a phantom religious sect charged with the pre-biblical traditions of the End of Days.  Thus begins THE SECRET OF GABRIEL ADAM, a 73,000 word young adult novel.

Sixteen hundred years ago, the Roman Empire declared a prophetic book, The Apocalypse of Solomon, heretical and banned it from Biblical canon.  With every copy soon destroyed, all the information it contained to secure mankind’s right to the Earth realm disappeared forever.  However, its secrets survived in the knowledge of a professor, whom today resides in England.  With the assassin still in pursuit, Gabriel and his father travel to the English university town of Durham, hoping that the book will guide them.  Joined there by Micah - the Archangel Michael born as a girl - Gabriel must learn to have faith in himself and accept the role he must play in the coming war without being distracted by his new life as a college student or his religious skepticism.  But with two of the four Archangels hunted down and presumed dead, the only chance at stopping the assassin’s plan to ignite the apocalypse remains hidden inside the Ark of the Covenant, somewhere in Ethiopia.

I'm a practicing attorney and have studied international legal systems in England. My time abroad encouraged an academic interest in religious histories throughout the British and Roman Empires. THE SECRET OF GABRIEL ADAM represents the culmination of my research from an agnostic perspective. 

Thank you for your consideration.  Should you like to see more of THE SECRET OF GABRIEL ADAM, please feel free to call or write. 

Sincerely,

Me

The Zen of Being Disappointed

So my advice is, have reasonable expectations, and you will not evade happiness.

Oh.  That’s right.  You didn’t ask for my advice.

But still.  It’s free.  So take it.  Go ahead. 

After all, you want to be published, yes?

I am not an expert in publishing.  I am not an expert in writing.  But I have built a considerable wealth of knowledge on the subject of disappointment by participating in both of the former. 

Of course you know one of the songs.  Rejection.  You’ve heard it before, a thousand times sorting yourself through the treatises and opinions caught in the internet on How to Get Published.

You’re savvy like that.  Prepared.  Learned, one might even call you.

Disappointment, however, is like a different tune.  Another animal entirely, to mix metaphores.  Sometimes it happens when you aren’t being Rejected.  You might find Disappointment hidden in the tiny recesses of Accepted.  Save for the select fortunate, whom we both despise with all our jealous hearts, Disappointment can be a lifelong passenger on the road to Author Career. 

Why, just look at all the wonderful places Disappointment can be found!

Your query performance.

Your writing, and other people’s opinions of.

Your editing, and other people’s opinions of.

Your book deal.

Your sales.

Your relationship with editors, agents, readers.

How long it takes getting published.

Book covers.

And many more!

My goodness.  Who would ever want to be published?  It seems you lose even when you win.  On the other hand (Hand usage count so far:  One), for those with reasonable expectations, the effects of Disappointment can be somewhat alleviated.  How, you ask?  Start by adjusting those dreams of yours. 

You may get an agent.  You may get a book deal.  You may build a fan base.  But you probably won’t be snatching Stephen King’s throne from under him.  Twihards and Potterheads likely won’t be deeming you the next Thing.  MTV will doubtfully be approaching you for an episode of Cribs at anytime in the near future. The cover of your book will not leave the masses weeping uncontrollably. 

As some great philosopher once mused, “Check yourself before you wreck yourself.”  Couldn’t have said it better myself.  Though, since you’re curious, what I would have said had I said it myself was, “Jesus, man. Chill the f*** out.” 

And I would also need a mirror.