by R.C. Lewis
A funny thing happens sometimes when you read book reviews—your own or otherwise. (I know, I know. "Don't read your reviews." Good advice in general, but you do you.) You see a lot of contradictions, and one in particular I've been thinking about.
Reviewer #1: This book is full of amazing, rich world-building!
Reviewer #2: This book could've been good, but the world-building was pretty much non-existent.
(Not real review quotes!)
So, who's right?
They both are. Reading is subjective, and I think when it comes to world-building especially, it varies by both perception and preference. Some readers crave detailed descriptions painting the exact picture as the author intended it. Others want just enough on the page to trigger a mental picture of their own, leaving some of the work of creation up to them.
Neither is wrong.
Some readers focus on the visual aspects—geography, clothing, architecture, art. Others pick up on the less concrete details—sociological, cultural, historical influences on characters' lives.
Again, neither is wrong.
Perhaps the most objective evaluation of world-building would look at how fleshed-out and detailed the world is in the author's head. If only we could know. Alas, all we have is what's on the page, so that's what we have to go on.
That's why it's tricky assigning value judgments like "good" and "bad" to it.
My advice to authors (including myself!) would be to focus first on that off-the-page world-building. Make sure your virtual world is fully realized and makes sense. Then let that reality filter and ooze and weave through the story in whatever way fits your style. Always try to do better, but realize that if readers knock it, it may just be that your style isn't for them. And it will be for someone else.
What do you like to see in world-building? Pet-peeves? Tips for excellent execution?
R.C. Lewis is the math-teaching, ASL-signing world-builder of Stitching Snow and Spinning Starlight (Oct. 6, 2015), both from Hyperion. You can find more information at her website, or find her random musings on Twitter.
Showing posts with label R.C. Lewis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label R.C. Lewis. Show all posts
Thursday, September 17, 2015
Monday, June 1, 2015
The Realities of the Second Book
by R.C. Lewis
I feel like I'm at a weird place in my life right now. Post-debut, pre-release of second book. Is this how parents feel when they have one child and are pregnant with the next? Like, I should know sort of what to expect now, but the experience is somehow different.
And it is different. Not only from book to book, but from author to author.
Setting aside fears of falling victim to Sophomore Slump (because if we don't talk about that, it can't be real, right?), there are a lot of things that can make getting your second published book out the door different from the first.
For some authors, right off the bat it's a matter of getting that second contract because their debut is a one-book deal. Usually the debut publisher gets first look at your next manuscript, but do they accept it? If yes, proceed to the next paragraph about two-book deals. If no, then you're back in submission-land all over again, which is its own kind of wondrous terror.
Say your first publishing contract is for a two (or even three!) book deal. Hooray for a little bit of security! I'm going to assume we're not talking about sequels/series here, because they're a different experience—one I don't yet have any expertise on. But here are some reasons you may find you upgrade your Professional Writer hat a few levels in the process of creating Book Number Two.
Organics-B-Gone
You're already contracted with a publisher, they have their idea of the brand they're going to present you as, and you probably want to keep them happy. This may mean they want your second book to be in a particular vein, probably in some manner similar to your debut. And this can be great! ... Except instead of bolt-from-the-blue inspiration like you had for that first book, you may have to go digging for an idea that fits this mold. That can make it a less organic process than you may be used to. (This happened to me for my next book. Fortunately, by the time I finished the first draft, I was in love with the characters and story! But it took some time to get there.)
Popping the Question ... Over and Over
Often if the second book is unspecified in the original contract, you go through a phase of pitching ideas to your editor until you find something they'd like to see you write. Sometimes this is informal, maybe a handful of one-line pitches and your editor says, "That one sounds cool," or "They all sound great to me—is there one you're particularly excited to write?"
Other times, you may go through writing more formal proposals. This can involve a full (sometimes lengthy!) synopsis and some sample pages/chapters to establish the voice. Sounds like less work than writing a whole manuscript, and it generally is by most measures, but I also know some authors who've been through the mental-wringer trying to write proposals.
And if that proposal is turned down? It's back to work, grinding out a proposal for another idea.
The Revolving Door of Publishing
The longer you're under contract at a particular publisher, the more likely this is to happen to you. Your acquiring editor may not even be the one who's your editor by the time your debut comes out (that happened to me), and then the editor who launched your debut may not be the one who sees your second book through to the end (that also happened to me ... in fact, I was between editors when my debut released).
This is no big deal (says she who chased off two editors before ever her book hit shelves), but the transitions can be a little jarring. Your acquiring editor loved your writing! You know it, because of all the "I love this!" during the "We want to pay you money and publish it" phase. What if New-Editor doesn't love your work? They didn't pick you—they just got assigned.
Really, it's okay. New-Editor may not love your work the same way, but they'll love it in their own way. Their editing style may be different, but we all want to be in this business a nice long time, right? That'll probably involve working with lots of different editors along the way no matter what, so flexibility is key in the skill set.
(If New-Editor really does hate every word you write, though ... That may be time to call Agent-Awesome and get them to intervene.)
And remember that all of the above are likely things that will happen to us at some point in our careers. If not on our second book, then one down the line. If we get there, it means we stayed on track, and that's a good thing!
R.C. Lewis is the math-teaching, ASL-signing author of Stitching Snow and her *second book* Spinning Starlight (Oct. 6, 2015), both from Hyperion. You can find more information at her website, or find her random musings on Twitter.
I feel like I'm at a weird place in my life right now. Post-debut, pre-release of second book. Is this how parents feel when they have one child and are pregnant with the next? Like, I should know sort of what to expect now, but the experience is somehow different.
And it is different. Not only from book to book, but from author to author.
Setting aside fears of falling victim to Sophomore Slump (because if we don't talk about that, it can't be real, right?), there are a lot of things that can make getting your second published book out the door different from the first.
For some authors, right off the bat it's a matter of getting that second contract because their debut is a one-book deal. Usually the debut publisher gets first look at your next manuscript, but do they accept it? If yes, proceed to the next paragraph about two-book deals. If no, then you're back in submission-land all over again, which is its own kind of wondrous terror.
Say your first publishing contract is for a two (or even three!) book deal. Hooray for a little bit of security! I'm going to assume we're not talking about sequels/series here, because they're a different experience—one I don't yet have any expertise on. But here are some reasons you may find you upgrade your Professional Writer hat a few levels in the process of creating Book Number Two.
Organics-B-Gone
You're already contracted with a publisher, they have their idea of the brand they're going to present you as, and you probably want to keep them happy. This may mean they want your second book to be in a particular vein, probably in some manner similar to your debut. And this can be great! ... Except instead of bolt-from-the-blue inspiration like you had for that first book, you may have to go digging for an idea that fits this mold. That can make it a less organic process than you may be used to. (This happened to me for my next book. Fortunately, by the time I finished the first draft, I was in love with the characters and story! But it took some time to get there.)
Popping the Question ... Over and Over
Often if the second book is unspecified in the original contract, you go through a phase of pitching ideas to your editor until you find something they'd like to see you write. Sometimes this is informal, maybe a handful of one-line pitches and your editor says, "That one sounds cool," or "They all sound great to me—is there one you're particularly excited to write?"
Other times, you may go through writing more formal proposals. This can involve a full (sometimes lengthy!) synopsis and some sample pages/chapters to establish the voice. Sounds like less work than writing a whole manuscript, and it generally is by most measures, but I also know some authors who've been through the mental-wringer trying to write proposals.
And if that proposal is turned down? It's back to work, grinding out a proposal for another idea.
The Revolving Door of Publishing
The longer you're under contract at a particular publisher, the more likely this is to happen to you. Your acquiring editor may not even be the one who's your editor by the time your debut comes out (that happened to me), and then the editor who launched your debut may not be the one who sees your second book through to the end (that also happened to me ... in fact, I was between editors when my debut released).
This is no big deal (says she who chased off two editors before ever her book hit shelves), but the transitions can be a little jarring. Your acquiring editor loved your writing! You know it, because of all the "I love this!" during the "We want to pay you money and publish it" phase. What if New-Editor doesn't love your work? They didn't pick you—they just got assigned.
Really, it's okay. New-Editor may not love your work the same way, but they'll love it in their own way. Their editing style may be different, but we all want to be in this business a nice long time, right? That'll probably involve working with lots of different editors along the way no matter what, so flexibility is key in the skill set.
(If New-Editor really does hate every word you write, though ... That may be time to call Agent-Awesome and get them to intervene.)
And remember that all of the above are likely things that will happen to us at some point in our careers. If not on our second book, then one down the line. If we get there, it means we stayed on track, and that's a good thing!
R.C. Lewis is the math-teaching, ASL-signing author of Stitching Snow and her *second book* Spinning Starlight (Oct. 6, 2015), both from Hyperion. You can find more information at her website, or find her random musings on Twitter.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Authenticity vs. Perpetuation of Bad
by R.C. Lewis
As writers, we talk a lot about authenticity. Authentic voice, authentic setting, authentic characters. Particularly in young adult (YA), I spend a lot of time trying to make sure my characters resonate and feel real to teens. It doesn't mean all teens are the same, that there's some very specific teen-mold our characters should match. Just that teens should think, "Yeah, I believe a person my age could be like that."
You know what else we talk about?
Slut-shaming. Body-shaming. Rape culture. Misogyny. Hate speech. Pretty sure that's just scratching the surface.
I spend the work-week with about two hundred 14-year-olds. There are things a significant number of them say/do. Call another student retarded. Use the word "gay" as an insult or disparaging adjective. Objectify girls, judge their worth solely based on appearance. It goes on and on, and many of them do all these things without a second thought.
(At least until I give them a hard time about it, over and over and over. *ahem*)
These behaviors exist, and not in isolation. These words are in the vernacular for many (but not all!) teens.
So do we include it in the name of authenticity?
That's where it starts getting tricky, because more questions follow.
Do we only include it in cases where it's clearly shown to be a bad thing? (Either right away for incidental dialogue or by the end of the book where it's an overall theme…)
Do we lose authenticity by always having a character ready to call another out for speaking/behaving in a way we don't approve?
If we leave it out altogether, where do we draw the line? How do we keep from going so inauthentic that we actually cross into "rosy idealized way we wish people were"? (Face it—at the extreme, that lands you with no conflict and thus no plot.)
Is there a balancing point where we can show the authentic without making it "okay" and without getting didactic?
My own thoughts flit around from one side of the argument to another, creating more questions, giving no answers.
I'd love to know what others think.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—and frequently tells them to "pick a more accurate adjective"—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Hyperion October 14, 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
As writers, we talk a lot about authenticity. Authentic voice, authentic setting, authentic characters. Particularly in young adult (YA), I spend a lot of time trying to make sure my characters resonate and feel real to teens. It doesn't mean all teens are the same, that there's some very specific teen-mold our characters should match. Just that teens should think, "Yeah, I believe a person my age could be like that."
You know what else we talk about?
Slut-shaming. Body-shaming. Rape culture. Misogyny. Hate speech. Pretty sure that's just scratching the surface.
I spend the work-week with about two hundred 14-year-olds. There are things a significant number of them say/do. Call another student retarded. Use the word "gay" as an insult or disparaging adjective. Objectify girls, judge their worth solely based on appearance. It goes on and on, and many of them do all these things without a second thought.
(At least until I give them a hard time about it, over and over and over. *ahem*)
These behaviors exist, and not in isolation. These words are in the vernacular for many (but not all!) teens.
So do we include it in the name of authenticity?
That's where it starts getting tricky, because more questions follow.
Do we only include it in cases where it's clearly shown to be a bad thing? (Either right away for incidental dialogue or by the end of the book where it's an overall theme…)
Do we lose authenticity by always having a character ready to call another out for speaking/behaving in a way we don't approve?
If we leave it out altogether, where do we draw the line? How do we keep from going so inauthentic that we actually cross into "rosy idealized way we wish people were"? (Face it—at the extreme, that lands you with no conflict and thus no plot.)
Is there a balancing point where we can show the authentic without making it "okay" and without getting didactic?
My own thoughts flit around from one side of the argument to another, creating more questions, giving no answers.
I'd love to know what others think.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—and frequently tells them to "pick a more accurate adjective"—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Hyperion October 14, 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Respecting Agents' Time … and Our Own
by R.C. Lewis
When it comes to agent-hunting, there are a lot of Do-and-Don't lists out there. Do your research. Don't use rhetorical questions in your query.
Well, here's another one. Most of us are busy people, but let's focus on agents for a minute. If you keep an eye on a few over social media, you get a sense of how hyper-busy they are. One particular agent seems to single-handedly keep the turkey-jerky industry rolling by rarely stopping for a real lunch. My own agent insists she does sleep, but I'm not sure I'm convinced.
So let's talk about how we can respect their time and ours.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Hyperion October 14, 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
When it comes to agent-hunting, there are a lot of Do-and-Don't lists out there. Do your research. Don't use rhetorical questions in your query.
Well, here's another one. Most of us are busy people, but let's focus on agents for a minute. If you keep an eye on a few over social media, you get a sense of how hyper-busy they are. One particular agent seems to single-handedly keep the turkey-jerky industry rolling by rarely stopping for a real lunch. My own agent insists she does sleep, but I'm not sure I'm convinced.
So let's talk about how we can respect their time and ours.
DON'T: Give Them a Call
Like, ever. There's just no reason to call an agent on the phone. You don't need to ask permission to query. You don't need to call to get submission guidelines. (It's really easy to find that information. If you can't find submission guidelines for an agent, they probably don't want to be found.) I'm signed with an agent and I would only call her if I absolutely had to talk to her right this second. Email is awesome.
Disrespecting Their Time: The thing about phone calls is they have to be real-time by their nature. A caller is interrupting their work needlessly.
Disrespecting Our Time: It's truly wasting time. It's not endearing us to the agent. It's not giving us a leg up. Plus, every workday minute of an agent that we waste is a minute they could've been working for their clients—our fellow writers.
DON'T: Respond to Form Rejections
So many reasons not to do this. Have we all heard the horror stories about irate writers lambasting agents for their form responses? Don't Be That Person. But some writers have politely responded asking for more specific feedback—and gotten it! I still say don't do it. Here's why.
Disrespecting Their Time: Can you imagine if all writers asked for feedback on form rejections? Heck, even ten percent? Even if the agent just ignores such requests (the most efficient choice), clearing them out of their inbox could take a significant chunk of time. Time they're not being paid for, because they work for their clients.
Disrespecting Our Time (and Energy): Maybe it's a waste because we get nothing. Maybe it's a waste because the only response we get is no more specific or helpful than the form rejection was. Maybe it's a waste because it sends us in a very wrong direction. Maybe we luck out and things happen … but assuming we're the exception just isn't a good idea.
DO: Take Revision Seriously (pre-query or R&R)
Sending in a manuscript that needs an inordinate amount of work? Not good. Sending one in on a R&R (Revise & Resubmit) after a week? Also not good.
Disrespecting Their Time: In the former case, straight up waste of time to clutter the agent's inbox with something that isn't remotely ready. In the latter, the agent has already taken the time to read our manuscript and respond thoughtfully with ideas for revision, sometimes including extensive notes. To breeze through rather than digging in is a disrespect of that time and of the time they'll waste reading again only to discover it's not there.
Disrespecting Our Time: This may seem counterintuitive because we might be hurrying in an effort to be efficient with our time. But if we don't take the time to do it well and do it right, it's wasted.
DO: Know When to Pull the Trigger
On the other end of the spectrum, we might work and fix and fuss forever. And ever. And never send it out there at all.
Disrespecting Their Time: Wait, we're not wasting the agent's time because they don't know we exist, right? Pretty much, except if our project is awesome, we're wasting time the agent could've spent submitting and selling that manuscript.
Disrespecting Our Time: Seems to me that fussing endlessly does one of two things. (1) It keeps an awesome manuscript from ever getting out there. (2) It keeps us from letting go of a not-quite-awesome manuscript and moving on to develop our awesomeness level on something new.
Any other thoughts on (dis)respecting agents' time as well as our own? Any traps you've either avoided or fallen into?
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Hyperion October 14, 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Writing is Exactly Like Selling Tractors
by Cat Woods
Tractors are my bread and butter. Not mine, specifically, as I have no experience selling them. In fact, I can barely tell the difference between a tractor and a combine. Yet, after twenty-plus years of marriage to an Ag Manager, I know a thing or two about Dear Hubby's expectations for his sales force.
Basing my marketing plan off his successful sales model makes perfect sense to me. And once I’m done, you should walk around thinking tractors and books aren’t really all that different.
- Writing is a product. Books, like tractors, must provide the buyer with their heart’s desire. Each novel, picture book or how-to has a purpose. It may be sheer entertainment, or it may have educational value. Regardless of why it is written, the end product is useful. Just like a tractor is to a farmer. The more useful you can make your product, the better opportunity you will have to sell it. Writing for kids? Why not include educational aspects that teachers can build on in the classroom--a topic RC Lewis wrote about here. Got horses? Find a way to appeal to 4H students.
- Writers must know their genres. Field marketers must know their tractors. Not that I want to buy a tractor, but if I did, I would find myself a reputable dealer knowledgeable about their products. I would never buy a tractor from a business that only sold lawnmowers and garden weasels. Likewise, I would never write a Sci-Fi on time travel using quantum physics as a basis for reality. Though I graduated in the top 10% of my class, I can honestly admit that I am physic-ally illiterate. The moral here: write what you know--or learn what you want to write. Either way, it's a win-win. Because if you don't, you will put out a sub-par product that will not withstand the test of time.
- Writers must have a brand or a platform to successfully sell their books. Tractors have Case IH and John Deere (among others). Some farmers buy on color regardless of the product–simply because of branding. Many book-buyers purchase books based on name recognition. In a side by side throw down, the familiar name almost always beats out the competition. So get out there and get known--without forgetting the power of real-world connections. I was recently asked to speak at a local women's group about my YA. Seventeen members were there. All seventeen bought a book.
- Authors must be approachable. I would never buy my hypothetical tractor from a curmudgeon. If I walked into a dealership (and I have walked into many) and the field marketer glowered at me, ignored me or was otherwise unapproachable, I would find myself another dealership. A writer must like (or appear to like) her readership. Bashing kids as a nasty breed is not likely to endear me to my potential buyers. And if you think for a second that people aren't looking, you're wrong. How we conduct ourselves in the cyber-sphere, as well as in real life, has a big impact on the way others perceive us. As hard is it might be, we have to learn to talk about ourselves and our writing without bragging--sometimes in the least expected places. Our ability to do this smoothly and graciously can make the difference between selling or sitting on the hypothetical book shelf.
- Writers must deliver. A cool cover blurb might entice me to shell out my hard earned cash on the first book, but if the writing doesn’t equal the promise, I guarantee I will never buy from Author Anita Sell again. Ever! I’ve been married to DH long enough to know that farmers are equally demanding. Bad performance = negative repeat business. Good service = customers for life.
- Authors are field marketers. We must sell our stories, our names and our personalities. We must engage potential readers and be unafraid to put ourselves out there. On a trip up north, I walked into a bookstore and hand delivered--free of charge--one of my YA novels. The three workers--including the owner--were thrilled when I told them it was theirs to enjoy. A potential sale? Maybe. If not, I'm only out a handful of dollars. So I say to you, set aside your fears and take a chance. After all, the worst thing a farmer can do is say no. Readers are no different.
To become successful authors, we must care about our readership and deliver the goods. Failing this, don’t bother heading to the nearest Ag Dealership and asking for a job. Their field marketers are held to the same high standards.
If we are lucky, our books will grow wheels and drive themselves right off the shelves!
What's in your marketing plan? What scares you about being a field marketer for your own product?
While Cat Woods does not sell farm equipment, she does sell her intellectual property, such as her middle grade novel, Abigail Bindle and the Slam Book Scam, which is slated for release this September. She also sells herself--as an author--and will be speaking at regional Young Writer's Conferences this upcoming year. Her words of wisdom: don't be afraid of seeking out venues for your words, because if you never ask, the answer will always be no. For more writing tips, visit her blog, Words from the Woods. And while you're there, check out the call for submissions for a middle grade anthology on bullying. Because if you never ask, the answer will always be no.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Considering the Standards (Common Core or Otherwise)
by R.C. Lewis
Disclaimer: While I am a teacher, I'm a math teacher. I try to keep up with English/Language Arts education as an author, but I don't know firsthand what those teachers face.
There's a lot of controversy about the Common Core State Standards (CCSS) and their implementation. Too much emphasis on non-fiction reading … pushing us further into test-driven education … Let's leave that aside for now, though, because standards have been around before CCSS and will continue to be. It's my contention that standards in and of themselves aren't a bad thing—it's what you do with them.
"Hey, R.C., what does this have to do with authors of kid-lit?"
Is it just me, or is it really cool to think a class somewhere reading your book and talking about it? For some of you, maybe not. Maybe you're saying, "Yeah, right. My book will land on a Banned Books List long before any teacher will dare use it in a classroom." (And hey, that's its own kind of cool right there.) But maybe some of you have that same occasional daydream I do.
One way many authors are making their book more attractive for classroom use is by preparing (or paying to have prepared) discussion guides and other teaching materials. With both my author and teacher hats on (and believe me, that's quite the look), I can say some are better than others. Some more useful than others.
If you're thinking of preparing such materials on your own, here's some totally biased advice from me to you.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Hyperion in October 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Disclaimer: While I am a teacher, I'm a math teacher. I try to keep up with English/Language Arts education as an author, but I don't know firsthand what those teachers face.
There's a lot of controversy about the Common Core State Standards (CCSS) and their implementation. Too much emphasis on non-fiction reading … pushing us further into test-driven education … Let's leave that aside for now, though, because standards have been around before CCSS and will continue to be. It's my contention that standards in and of themselves aren't a bad thing—it's what you do with them.
"Hey, R.C., what does this have to do with authors of kid-lit?"
Is it just me, or is it really cool to think a class somewhere reading your book and talking about it? For some of you, maybe not. Maybe you're saying, "Yeah, right. My book will land on a Banned Books List long before any teacher will dare use it in a classroom." (And hey, that's its own kind of cool right there.) But maybe some of you have that same occasional daydream I do.
One way many authors are making their book more attractive for classroom use is by preparing (or paying to have prepared) discussion guides and other teaching materials. With both my author and teacher hats on (and believe me, that's quite the look), I can say some are better than others. Some more useful than others.
If you're thinking of preparing such materials on your own, here's some totally biased advice from me to you.
- Start with the Standards: Seriously, you and I both know that you know your book. Click on over to this page on the CCSS. Select "Reading: Literature" and then the approximate grade(s) you feel your book might be used in. Read through the standards and see them through the lens of your story.
- Make Teaching Easier, Not Harder: Put everything you can at the teacher's fingertips, rather than making them dig. Think about how the teacher will want to use the materials. Discussion guides meant to be used verbally should look one way, while questions for students to answer in writing should perhaps be formatted in more worksheet-style, ready to print. Alternatively, make your materials easy to edit or copy/paste from.
- Avoid Minutiae … Unless that's the Point: Sometimes teachers want a few quick, simple questions on a section just to verify students actually did the reading. You might want to include those as "quick quizzes" or something. But those are pretty easy for teachers to come up with on their own. For general questions, dig a little deeper. Remember, you know your story.
- Fiction & Non-Fiction Can Be Friends: This may be easier for some books than others, but if there's any way to incorporate non-fiction resources, go for it. For example, Mindy McGinnis's Not a Drop to Drink lends itself to connected reading on water conservation and other environmental issues.
- Don't Forget Writing: Go back to that CCSS link and select Writing, followed by grade level. Take a look and think about how a project or paper related to your book could help meet some of those standards. Include suggestions about such projects in your materials.
Any teachers out there have further advice (or conflicting opinions!) on book-specific classroom resources? Authors, have you considered preparing materials for your book? What's helped or hindered you?
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Hyperion in October 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Monday, January 13, 2014
Being Supportive, Being Authentic
by R.C. Lewis
One of the best things about the writing community is that it's so supportive. Writers share information and experiences on blogs and Twitter, offer advice to newer writers, and spread the word about others' books.
For me, there's a fine balance between that support and being authentic. If you don't like someone's cover or book, do you still rave about it in the name of being supportive? Some writers do, and I think they often have valid reasons for it. Tastes are subjective, so they're objectively celebrating the effort and accomplishment. They're offsetting the inevitable snark-reviews.
Good reasons. If that's what makes sense to you, go for it!
The trickiest place for this is in reviewing. I decided a long while ago that I wouldn't review books. Period. Books I love, hate, or are so-so about. My own nature is to find things to pick on, so I make a lousy "celebrator of effort and accomplishment" if I don't adore everything about a book. And if I review one writer-friend's book (because I love it) but not another's (because I don't love it), it gets way too awkward. I can't say I love everything, because I don't. Because I'm admittedly really picky, it's often hard to focus on any aspect I thought was good.
So no reviews for me, and I think that's a decision each author has to make in a way that works for them. It has to do with personality along with a whole host of other factors.
There are other things I can do, though, that I think are more universal. I can be vocally supportive of all paths—traditional, agented, small publisher, self, whatever. I can likewise be supportive of writers in all genres.
Most importantly, I can make sure I never look down on a fellow writer.
While it's critical to have self-confidence in this business—we need to believe our stories are worth reading—it's just as critical not to let that cross over to arrogance. In my case, I write Young Adult sci-fi. I do so because it's what I love, and I think my books have something important to add to the conversation.
That's not the same as thinking I'm better than everyone else publishing or attempting to publish in that area. I think I'm pretty good at some things. I know I still have plenty to learn.
I think I can add a different voice. I don't think "different" means "better."
I have opinions. I have some expertise. I don't have the right to poop on someone else's parade.
This is why decisions about how to publicly convey our support for each other can be so tricky, at least for me. Being honest, authentic, and supportive while keeping our egos in check … it's a big balancing act.
How do you choose to show your support for your fellow authors? Are there things you find you just can't do? Where's your balance?
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in Fall 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
One of the best things about the writing community is that it's so supportive. Writers share information and experiences on blogs and Twitter, offer advice to newer writers, and spread the word about others' books.
For me, there's a fine balance between that support and being authentic. If you don't like someone's cover or book, do you still rave about it in the name of being supportive? Some writers do, and I think they often have valid reasons for it. Tastes are subjective, so they're objectively celebrating the effort and accomplishment. They're offsetting the inevitable snark-reviews.
Good reasons. If that's what makes sense to you, go for it!
The trickiest place for this is in reviewing. I decided a long while ago that I wouldn't review books. Period. Books I love, hate, or are so-so about. My own nature is to find things to pick on, so I make a lousy "celebrator of effort and accomplishment" if I don't adore everything about a book. And if I review one writer-friend's book (because I love it) but not another's (because I don't love it), it gets way too awkward. I can't say I love everything, because I don't. Because I'm admittedly really picky, it's often hard to focus on any aspect I thought was good.
So no reviews for me, and I think that's a decision each author has to make in a way that works for them. It has to do with personality along with a whole host of other factors.
There are other things I can do, though, that I think are more universal. I can be vocally supportive of all paths—traditional, agented, small publisher, self, whatever. I can likewise be supportive of writers in all genres.
Most importantly, I can make sure I never look down on a fellow writer.
While it's critical to have self-confidence in this business—we need to believe our stories are worth reading—it's just as critical not to let that cross over to arrogance. In my case, I write Young Adult sci-fi. I do so because it's what I love, and I think my books have something important to add to the conversation.
That's not the same as thinking I'm better than everyone else publishing or attempting to publish in that area. I think I'm pretty good at some things. I know I still have plenty to learn.
I think I can add a different voice. I don't think "different" means "better."
I have opinions. I have some expertise. I don't have the right to poop on someone else's parade.
This is why decisions about how to publicly convey our support for each other can be so tricky, at least for me. Being honest, authentic, and supportive while keeping our egos in check … it's a big balancing act.
How do you choose to show your support for your fellow authors? Are there things you find you just can't do? Where's your balance?
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in Fall 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Things Non-Writers Don't (Always) Get
by R.C. Lewis
You've been there, right? Someone asks a question or makes a comment about your writing, and you realize they don't get it. How writing a novel works. How agents work. How self-publishing works. How traditional publishing works. They just don't understand. That's part of why writers' communities are so great—they bring you together with people who have some shared experience and knowledge.
To be fair, some non-writers do get it and some writers don't get it all … yet. Another great thing about such communities—we can always learn more from each other.
Here are a few things where I sometimes hit the "never mind" wall with other people:
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in Fall 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
You've been there, right? Someone asks a question or makes a comment about your writing, and you realize they don't get it. How writing a novel works. How agents work. How self-publishing works. How traditional publishing works. They just don't understand. That's part of why writers' communities are so great—they bring you together with people who have some shared experience and knowledge.
To be fair, some non-writers do get it and some writers don't get it all … yet. Another great thing about such communities—we can always learn more from each other.
Here are a few things where I sometimes hit the "never mind" wall with other people:
- A novel manuscript has to be complete before you try to sell it.
- Being complete doesn't mean it's done. Selling to a publisher doesn't mean it's done. There are rounds of edits yet to come.
- Working with an editor doesn't mean just cleaning up commas and typos. Not at first, and not for a long time.
- Revisions can be a messy, big, creative process. Big-picture stuff isn't just adding a word here and deleting one there.
- Traditional publishing is a REALLY LONG PROCESS.
- What query letters are. Why they're used. Anything about how agents work.
- To all my students: No, I will not sell you copies of my book at cost, nor will I give each of you one for free. Yes, it's because I'm mean. Same reason I give you homework.
How about you? What makes you run to your writer-friends because you know they'll understand?
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in Fall 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
A Case for "Nicer" Villains
by R.C. Lewis
Yeah, read that title again.
Here's what I don't mean. I don't mean antagonists need to ease up on the meanness and be warm and fuzzy by the end of the story. This isn't even about antagonists having a reason—maybe even a sympathetic one—for being how they are. (Although that's not a bad idea.)
There can be as many kinds of villains as there are heroes. Sometimes the straight-up evil kind fits the bill. Voldemort had some lousy childhood moments, but in the end, how many of us feel really feel sorry for him, even a smidgen?
And here's another thing. How many of us genuinely think we'll ever run into a Voldemort in real life?
But there are real villains in the world. Bad ones. They're not 100% evil, with a deformed snaky-face to serve as their membership badge in Club Evil. They're not all psychopaths and sociopaths like you see on crime dramas.
If you ask me, that makes them scarier. We can't look at someone and know that he hits his wife, or that she's emotionally abusive to her son. Wouldn't it be nice if we could? So much easier.
Abusers can show kindness. The "bad guy" can have legitimate "good" traits. It doesn't excuse the evil they do, and I think that's the point in making at least some of our villains nuanced this way. Because otherwise, when real-world villainy happens, victims and third parties alike may think things such as...
"But he's a nice guy, so what happened can't be bad. Not really."
"But she's a good mother, so this must be a mistake."
"But they're all good students. It's not possible they could do something so terrible."
Does any of that sound familiar?
I think perhaps reality-based stories (contemporary, for example) may be better at including some of those shades in their antagonists. More so than speculative genres, anyway. We have more Voldemorts. More mad scientists and megalomaniacs. More extremes.
Maybe we can bring a little more reality to our stories. More dimension to our Big Bad. And help our readers see that all kinds of people can do very, very bad things.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in Fall 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Yeah, read that title again.
Here's what I don't mean. I don't mean antagonists need to ease up on the meanness and be warm and fuzzy by the end of the story. This isn't even about antagonists having a reason—maybe even a sympathetic one—for being how they are. (Although that's not a bad idea.)
There can be as many kinds of villains as there are heroes. Sometimes the straight-up evil kind fits the bill. Voldemort had some lousy childhood moments, but in the end, how many of us feel really feel sorry for him, even a smidgen?
And here's another thing. How many of us genuinely think we'll ever run into a Voldemort in real life?
But there are real villains in the world. Bad ones. They're not 100% evil, with a deformed snaky-face to serve as their membership badge in Club Evil. They're not all psychopaths and sociopaths like you see on crime dramas.
If you ask me, that makes them scarier. We can't look at someone and know that he hits his wife, or that she's emotionally abusive to her son. Wouldn't it be nice if we could? So much easier.
Abusers can show kindness. The "bad guy" can have legitimate "good" traits. It doesn't excuse the evil they do, and I think that's the point in making at least some of our villains nuanced this way. Because otherwise, when real-world villainy happens, victims and third parties alike may think things such as...
"But he's a nice guy, so what happened can't be bad. Not really."
"But she's a good mother, so this must be a mistake."
"But they're all good students. It's not possible they could do something so terrible."
Does any of that sound familiar?
I think perhaps reality-based stories (contemporary, for example) may be better at including some of those shades in their antagonists. More so than speculative genres, anyway. We have more Voldemorts. More mad scientists and megalomaniacs. More extremes.
Maybe we can bring a little more reality to our stories. More dimension to our Big Bad. And help our readers see that all kinds of people can do very, very bad things.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in Fall 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
The Revolving Door(s) of Publishing
by R.C. Lewis
"Change is the only constant."
The math teacher in me can only think that such a sentence will confuse my students. But really, it's a contradiction that works. One of the only things we can count on is that things change. Publishing is no different ... maybe in ways you haven't thought of. Mostly in ways that prove none of us ever "have it made."
My book is completely done! (Pre-Querying)
Hopefully it's ready to query. If so, it's done enough ... but it's not done. You're going to make changes. Maybe with your agent before you go on submission. Definitely with your editor after you sell. Don't think of your manuscript as a finished thing. Don't get too attached to how it looks right now. Think of it as malleable, waiting to be taken from Awesome to Awesome-PLUS.
I have an agent—I'm out of the query trenches forever!
You and your agent may be a match made in heaven. Even if you are, the relationship may not be permanent. Agents quit the business. Writers decide to take their career in a direction their current agent isn't well-suited for—these splits can be amicable.
Or you discover your agent isn't the hot stuff you thought they were.
These things happen. They happen all the time. And back to the query trenches you go.
My editor is part of the immutable triad formed by me and my agent!
Well, I already covered that your relationship with your agent isn't immutable. The editor who buys your book may not be the one who sees you through to publication. Sometimes because the publisher hands it off to another editor after acquisition as a matter of course. Sometimes (particularly with the length of time the traditional publishing process takes) because your original editor gets a job at a different publishing house.
That happened to me. It's not the end of the world. It's not even a bad thing. Though some people found their new editor wasn't as fond of their project as the original one ... and that sucks.
I've been published once, so now I just rinse/repeat for the rest of my career!
Unfortunately, a label of "successful manuscript-seller" must be re-earned on each and every outing. The next manuscript may not sell. And this goes for all the details of the deal, too. Your next advance may be a different size. Your next contract will almost certainly have different provisions. You'll probably get different treatment by a different publishing house in varying ways.
Maybe this post seems like a big ol' downer, but it's not. It's not cause for despair.
We just need to be aware that a lot of things can change. That way when a change comes along to smack us in the face, sure, we might feel a sting. But we'll also know others have been through the same.
And we keep rolling.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in Fall 2014, and she's been lucky enough to work on it with TWO awesome editors. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
"Change is the only constant."
The math teacher in me can only think that such a sentence will confuse my students. But really, it's a contradiction that works. One of the only things we can count on is that things change. Publishing is no different ... maybe in ways you haven't thought of. Mostly in ways that prove none of us ever "have it made."
My book is completely done! (Pre-Querying)
Hopefully it's ready to query. If so, it's done enough ... but it's not done. You're going to make changes. Maybe with your agent before you go on submission. Definitely with your editor after you sell. Don't think of your manuscript as a finished thing. Don't get too attached to how it looks right now. Think of it as malleable, waiting to be taken from Awesome to Awesome-PLUS.
I have an agent—I'm out of the query trenches forever!
You and your agent may be a match made in heaven. Even if you are, the relationship may not be permanent. Agents quit the business. Writers decide to take their career in a direction their current agent isn't well-suited for—these splits can be amicable.
Or you discover your agent isn't the hot stuff you thought they were.
These things happen. They happen all the time. And back to the query trenches you go.
My editor is part of the immutable triad formed by me and my agent!
Well, I already covered that your relationship with your agent isn't immutable. The editor who buys your book may not be the one who sees you through to publication. Sometimes because the publisher hands it off to another editor after acquisition as a matter of course. Sometimes (particularly with the length of time the traditional publishing process takes) because your original editor gets a job at a different publishing house.
That happened to me. It's not the end of the world. It's not even a bad thing. Though some people found their new editor wasn't as fond of their project as the original one ... and that sucks.
I've been published once, so now I just rinse/repeat for the rest of my career!
Unfortunately, a label of "successful manuscript-seller" must be re-earned on each and every outing. The next manuscript may not sell. And this goes for all the details of the deal, too. Your next advance may be a different size. Your next contract will almost certainly have different provisions. You'll probably get different treatment by a different publishing house in varying ways.
Maybe this post seems like a big ol' downer, but it's not. It's not cause for despair.
We just need to be aware that a lot of things can change. That way when a change comes along to smack us in the face, sure, we might feel a sting. But we'll also know others have been through the same.
And we keep rolling.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in Fall 2014, and she's been lucky enough to work on it with TWO awesome editors. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Banning Books vs. Curating Them
by R.C. Lewis
Banned Books Week is coming up later this month, and I found myself thinking about it months early. First off, I suggest you take a look at this post by author Robison Wells.
Like Mr. Wells, I live in a Land of Much Conservatism and Religiosity. (Wait, spell-check says "religiosity" is really a word? Cool.) Sometimes I love it, and sometimes I find myself throwing little "hey, let's think outside the box" ideas into the mix. When I got my publishing deal, I paused. I consider my work "relatively clean," but I know no religion-based publisher would touch my books with a ten-foot bookshelf.
Not like my characters cuss up a storm—just doesn't fit for me. But I've used all the words Mr. Wells rattled off for Variant at one time or another, plus a couple more. No sex, and the violence isn't super-gory/graphic. I'd consider the bulk of my work to be on the light side of PG-13, at most.
I know there are parents who would be horrified to have their children read it.
That's their prerogative. I don't get to say how they should or shouldn't raise their kids. When my students find out I have a book coming out next year, many get excited and swear they'll read it. Since one of the English teachers last year had their classes read Divergent without difficulty, I figure it'll mostly be okay.
Where the "book appropriateness" issue gets sticky for me isn't as an author—it's as a teacher.
As a math teacher, I don't typically have to worry about it much. Not like I regularly assign a whole class to read a book and get irate parents protesting what their child is being forced to read. But this year we've re-instituted DEAR time (Drop Everything And Read), and to keep mobs of "forgetful" students from flooding the media center every day, each teacher has set up a small classroom library for students to pull from as needed.
We had a book drive with a ton of donations to help stock everyone up, but I didn't bother with the donations. I have enough MG and YA books to stock several such classroom libraries, and once I've read them myself, I don't mind them diving into the rough-and-tumble of junior high students.
But I have a problem. My own literary tastes and tolerances are very liberal by local standards. My mother always trusted me to choose my own reading material. When the high school English teacher sent a permission slip home to determine whether I'd read the assigned book or a provided alternative, Mom's response was, "Why wouldn't I let you read that? *signs*"
There are things that happen even in our happy community that I often feel don't get acknowledged/discussed enough. Poverty, racism, bullying, and abuse are some of the first that come to mind. Some parents may say, "We know terrible things are in the world. That doesn't mean our children should be hit in the face with it gratuitously." To which I would say, I guarantee their child is sitting in a classroom with several people who are hit in the face with it every day. It's not gratuitous; it's their reality. And we often don't know it because who would want to admit to their own darkness in setting where such things are only acknowledged in the very-abstract?
On the other hand, I wouldn't want anyone to be blindsided by an F-bomb or sex scene if they weren't comfortable reading such things.
Because lugging books from my house to the second floor of the school is a pain, I've been doing it in installments anyway. So far, I've only brought books that our school library carries. They've already been vetted, so I know I'm "safe" there.
Part of me says I could just stick with that. It's more than enough books for just a little classroom library.
But guess what's not in our school library? The Fault in Our Stars. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. Want to Go Private?
Those three books were in my classroom when I previously taught high school at a school for the deaf. The first became an instant favorite for a girl whose pretty much defying her life expectancy since the day she was born. The second I got into the hands of one of my Native American boys who had a hard time pushing himself to read novels. The third made one of my senior girls give up Facebook for over a month and sparked discussions about how smart people can still do stupid things.
Those books and others in my personal collection could be of value to students. Not necessarily the obvious "life-changing" type books, either. The Perfect Chemistry series by Simone Elkeles? Devoured by a girl who hated reading (because it's difficult for her). And plenty of students either don't belong to the majority culture or are more flexible in the media they take in.
So what do I do as I curate my classroom's library? Honestly, when it comes to a lot of my books, I can't remember whether there are any "potentially offensive" bits in there. These kids are 14-15 years old, so I believe they can be responsible for their own reading choices.
I'm considering a color-coding system. Green for books that are duplicated in the school library. Yellow for books that aren't in the school library, but I feel are likely fine by the library's standards. And red for books I know have definite "red-flag" content for the very conservative or sensitive among us.
(You know, those red-tag books will probably get some of the most reluctant readers to dive in, looking for the "bad" stuff. Ulterior motives, Ms. Lewis?)
Like I said, I don't want anyone blindsided by something they'd rather not see.
I also don't want to deny students access to a wide variety of books.
Nor do I want the headache of facing irate parents. But of the three, I'd rather handle this last one, if I have to choose.
Do you have any ideas or advice for me in keeping the balance ... and the peace?
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. She also moonlights as a rabble-rouser in her spare time. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Banned Books Week is coming up later this month, and I found myself thinking about it months early. First off, I suggest you take a look at this post by author Robison Wells.
Like Mr. Wells, I live in a Land of Much Conservatism and Religiosity. (Wait, spell-check says "religiosity" is really a word? Cool.) Sometimes I love it, and sometimes I find myself throwing little "hey, let's think outside the box" ideas into the mix. When I got my publishing deal, I paused. I consider my work "relatively clean," but I know no religion-based publisher would touch my books with a ten-foot bookshelf.
Not like my characters cuss up a storm—just doesn't fit for me. But I've used all the words Mr. Wells rattled off for Variant at one time or another, plus a couple more. No sex, and the violence isn't super-gory/graphic. I'd consider the bulk of my work to be on the light side of PG-13, at most.
I know there are parents who would be horrified to have their children read it.
That's their prerogative. I don't get to say how they should or shouldn't raise their kids. When my students find out I have a book coming out next year, many get excited and swear they'll read it. Since one of the English teachers last year had their classes read Divergent without difficulty, I figure it'll mostly be okay.
Where the "book appropriateness" issue gets sticky for me isn't as an author—it's as a teacher.
As a math teacher, I don't typically have to worry about it much. Not like I regularly assign a whole class to read a book and get irate parents protesting what their child is being forced to read. But this year we've re-instituted DEAR time (Drop Everything And Read), and to keep mobs of "forgetful" students from flooding the media center every day, each teacher has set up a small classroom library for students to pull from as needed.
We had a book drive with a ton of donations to help stock everyone up, but I didn't bother with the donations. I have enough MG and YA books to stock several such classroom libraries, and once I've read them myself, I don't mind them diving into the rough-and-tumble of junior high students.
But I have a problem. My own literary tastes and tolerances are very liberal by local standards. My mother always trusted me to choose my own reading material. When the high school English teacher sent a permission slip home to determine whether I'd read the assigned book or a provided alternative, Mom's response was, "Why wouldn't I let you read that? *signs*"
There are things that happen even in our happy community that I often feel don't get acknowledged/discussed enough. Poverty, racism, bullying, and abuse are some of the first that come to mind. Some parents may say, "We know terrible things are in the world. That doesn't mean our children should be hit in the face with it gratuitously." To which I would say, I guarantee their child is sitting in a classroom with several people who are hit in the face with it every day. It's not gratuitous; it's their reality. And we often don't know it because who would want to admit to their own darkness in setting where such things are only acknowledged in the very-abstract?
On the other hand, I wouldn't want anyone to be blindsided by an F-bomb or sex scene if they weren't comfortable reading such things.
Because lugging books from my house to the second floor of the school is a pain, I've been doing it in installments anyway. So far, I've only brought books that our school library carries. They've already been vetted, so I know I'm "safe" there.
Part of me says I could just stick with that. It's more than enough books for just a little classroom library.
But guess what's not in our school library? The Fault in Our Stars. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. Want to Go Private?
Those three books were in my classroom when I previously taught high school at a school for the deaf. The first became an instant favorite for a girl whose pretty much defying her life expectancy since the day she was born. The second I got into the hands of one of my Native American boys who had a hard time pushing himself to read novels. The third made one of my senior girls give up Facebook for over a month and sparked discussions about how smart people can still do stupid things.
Those books and others in my personal collection could be of value to students. Not necessarily the obvious "life-changing" type books, either. The Perfect Chemistry series by Simone Elkeles? Devoured by a girl who hated reading (because it's difficult for her). And plenty of students either don't belong to the majority culture or are more flexible in the media they take in.
So what do I do as I curate my classroom's library? Honestly, when it comes to a lot of my books, I can't remember whether there are any "potentially offensive" bits in there. These kids are 14-15 years old, so I believe they can be responsible for their own reading choices.
I'm considering a color-coding system. Green for books that are duplicated in the school library. Yellow for books that aren't in the school library, but I feel are likely fine by the library's standards. And red for books I know have definite "red-flag" content for the very conservative or sensitive among us.
(You know, those red-tag books will probably get some of the most reluctant readers to dive in, looking for the "bad" stuff. Ulterior motives, Ms. Lewis?)
Like I said, I don't want anyone blindsided by something they'd rather not see.
I also don't want to deny students access to a wide variety of books.
Nor do I want the headache of facing irate parents. But of the three, I'd rather handle this last one, if I have to choose.
Do you have any ideas or advice for me in keeping the balance ... and the peace?
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. She also moonlights as a rabble-rouser in her spare time. Her debut novel Stitching Snow is coming from Disney-Hyperion in 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Friday, August 2, 2013
In Defense of Present Tense
by R.C. Lewis
I recently heard a person with a considerable amount of authority state that writing a story in first person is a terrible idea, shouldn't be done, and that writing it in present tense is even worse. It's his opinion, and he's entitled to it, but I disagree. I'mtackling the first-person aspect over on my blog (web host is having issues, so I've cross-posted to my old blog), so I want to focus here on the idea of present tense. (And I'm mostly going to assume we're discussing present tense within first-person POV, because third-person present is a whole different puzzle.)
One argument against present tense is that it's unnatural to us in the English language. We don't tend to use it much in our speech.
(Except some people do relate anecdotes that way—it's their style—and what are anecdotes except telling a story? But anyway...)
I have a couple of issues with that argument. First, spoken language and written language are not the same thing. Spoken is a primary form while written is a secondary form. The way we speak has never been fully reflected in the way we write, and vice versa. Even written dialogue should only feel like a realistic depiction of speech, not actually be an accurate, true-to-life representation. So why would my use or non-use of spoken present tense have any bearing on whether writing a story in it is appropriate?
Second, of course we don't use (spoken) present tense the way we do in written stories, because we don't narrate life as it's happening. (At least, most of us don't. And I might be a little concerned about anyone who does.)
"Then why is your protagonist narrating their life as it happens?" you may ask. "Isn't that just as ridiculous?"
In my opinion, no. It isn't. Because when I read, I don't process it as the character telling me the story. To me, the story simply happens, and the narration is a construct to deliver that thing called "story" to my brain. I don't generally feel like the character/narrator is talking at me—they're just living the story.
Of course, I understand this is a particular philosophy and approach to reading—one I know plenty of people don't share in, and one which I discuss a bit more in the first-person post.
All that said, I'll make some concessions. The first time I read a novel written in present tense, it was awkward. I wasn't used to it, and almost every sentence felt strange. But not being used to something doesn't automatically make it wrong. Little kids just learning to read aren't used to sentences that don't follow simple subject-verb-object structure. The first time they encounter a sentence like the one I'm writing right now, they might feel very awkward indeed. You get used to it. In fact, the only time I seem to notice present tense anymore is when it's done badly. Which brings me to ...
... Sometimes it's done badly.
Present tense is tricky. You can't note or reflect on anything until it comes into the sphere of your POV character's perceptions. I once changed some material from past to present and discovered I had to shuffle sentences around in a paragraph to make things work. And sometimes a story (or even a voice or style) doesn't really seem to support the choice for present tense.
So why use it? What do we gain?
Some say immediacy. That can be true, but I've read things in past tense that seemed to have just as much immediacy. The difference with past tense is that it's a bit easier to ease off the immediacy when it's not needed. If present tense truly creates immediacy by its very nature, then that immediacy will be much more constant throughout the story. And I think that's probably what I mean by stories that do or don't support use of present tense—some stories can handle that immediacy better than others.
Don't use present tense just because The Hunger Games did.
There's also a distinction between past and present that hits me more subconsciously as a reader. If I read a story in past tense, I don't actively think about it, but there may be a feeling deep down that the character knows what's going to happen in the next paragraph, next chapter. Not always—skillful writers still manage to keep the suspense level high when they want to—but sometimes. (Then there are the blatant cases, ending a chapter with "That was the last time I saw my father alive.")
With present tense, we make all discoveries at the same time as the character. Their problems are exactly as big as they seem, with no hindsight to put them in perspective. That can be a good thing.
Every tool has a use. We just have to make sure we use them all mindfully and correctly.
Do you have opinions on present tense—for OR against? Love it? Hate it? Why? Please share (respectfully!) in the comments.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. That may explain why her characters don't like to be pigeonholed. Her debut novel Stitching Snow (which is in first person, but past tense) is coming from Disney-Hyperion in 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
I recently heard a person with a considerable amount of authority state that writing a story in first person is a terrible idea, shouldn't be done, and that writing it in present tense is even worse. It's his opinion, and he's entitled to it, but I disagree. I'm
One argument against present tense is that it's unnatural to us in the English language. We don't tend to use it much in our speech.
(Except some people do relate anecdotes that way—it's their style—and what are anecdotes except telling a story? But anyway...)
I have a couple of issues with that argument. First, spoken language and written language are not the same thing. Spoken is a primary form while written is a secondary form. The way we speak has never been fully reflected in the way we write, and vice versa. Even written dialogue should only feel like a realistic depiction of speech, not actually be an accurate, true-to-life representation. So why would my use or non-use of spoken present tense have any bearing on whether writing a story in it is appropriate?
Second, of course we don't use (spoken) present tense the way we do in written stories, because we don't narrate life as it's happening. (At least, most of us don't. And I might be a little concerned about anyone who does.)
"Then why is your protagonist narrating their life as it happens?" you may ask. "Isn't that just as ridiculous?"
In my opinion, no. It isn't. Because when I read, I don't process it as the character telling me the story. To me, the story simply happens, and the narration is a construct to deliver that thing called "story" to my brain. I don't generally feel like the character/narrator is talking at me—they're just living the story.
Of course, I understand this is a particular philosophy and approach to reading—one I know plenty of people don't share in, and one which I discuss a bit more in the first-person post.
All that said, I'll make some concessions. The first time I read a novel written in present tense, it was awkward. I wasn't used to it, and almost every sentence felt strange. But not being used to something doesn't automatically make it wrong. Little kids just learning to read aren't used to sentences that don't follow simple subject-verb-object structure. The first time they encounter a sentence like the one I'm writing right now, they might feel very awkward indeed. You get used to it. In fact, the only time I seem to notice present tense anymore is when it's done badly. Which brings me to ...
... Sometimes it's done badly.
Present tense is tricky. You can't note or reflect on anything until it comes into the sphere of your POV character's perceptions. I once changed some material from past to present and discovered I had to shuffle sentences around in a paragraph to make things work. And sometimes a story (or even a voice or style) doesn't really seem to support the choice for present tense.
So why use it? What do we gain?
Some say immediacy. That can be true, but I've read things in past tense that seemed to have just as much immediacy. The difference with past tense is that it's a bit easier to ease off the immediacy when it's not needed. If present tense truly creates immediacy by its very nature, then that immediacy will be much more constant throughout the story. And I think that's probably what I mean by stories that do or don't support use of present tense—some stories can handle that immediacy better than others.
Don't use present tense just because The Hunger Games did.
There's also a distinction between past and present that hits me more subconsciously as a reader. If I read a story in past tense, I don't actively think about it, but there may be a feeling deep down that the character knows what's going to happen in the next paragraph, next chapter. Not always—skillful writers still manage to keep the suspense level high when they want to—but sometimes. (Then there are the blatant cases, ending a chapter with "That was the last time I saw my father alive.")
With present tense, we make all discoveries at the same time as the character. Their problems are exactly as big as they seem, with no hindsight to put them in perspective. That can be a good thing.
Every tool has a use. We just have to make sure we use them all mindfully and correctly.
Do you have opinions on present tense—for OR against? Love it? Hate it? Why? Please share (respectfully!) in the comments.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. That may explain why her characters don't like to be pigeonholed. Her debut novel Stitching Snow (which is in first person, but past tense) is coming from Disney-Hyperion in 2014. You can find R.C. on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Tackling the Infamous Editorial Letter
by R.C. Lewis
You've queried for years with more than one manuscript, and finally signed with an agent. That agent submits to editors—maybe one round, maybe several, maybe moving on to another project—and finally sells your book to a publishing house.
You're going to be published! This is dream-come-true material, right?
Indeed. But to get there, you must survive the editorial letter.
(You may deal with this earlier if you have a highly editorial agent. Self-publishers may deal with it if you hire an editor to do something broader than a line-edit. Most of this applies pretty equally.)
First, what is an editorial letter? Pretty much what it sounds like. The editor discusses various aspects of your manuscript—some that they love, and some they think could be improved. I've heard of them running anywhere from one page to 20+, but many seem to hover in the double-digit range. Different editors will have their own approach. Mine broke it down into sections: Characters (with subsections for each major player), Romance, World Building, Plot Development, an overarching element specific to my story, the Aftermath, and (since mine is a retelling) connections to Snow White.
Our job as writers is to take this document and use it to help us revise our novel to beyond-brilliance. (Because we made sure it was already brilliant before it got in the editor's hands, right?)
Like everything else in writing, there's no one right way to tackle this hefty task, but here are my suggestions from my own experience.
Remember that an editorial letter's job is to help you take something that's already pretty awesome and make it even better.
Do you have any tips or questions about dealing with an editorial letter? Share your thoughts in the comments.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. That may explain why her characters don't like to be pigeonholed. Coincidentally, R.C. enjoys reading about quantum physics and the identity issues of photons. You can find her on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website ... at least, you can when she's not in her revision cave.
You've queried for years with more than one manuscript, and finally signed with an agent. That agent submits to editors—maybe one round, maybe several, maybe moving on to another project—and finally sells your book to a publishing house.
You're going to be published! This is dream-come-true material, right?
Indeed. But to get there, you must survive the editorial letter.
(You may deal with this earlier if you have a highly editorial agent. Self-publishers may deal with it if you hire an editor to do something broader than a line-edit. Most of this applies pretty equally.)
First, what is an editorial letter? Pretty much what it sounds like. The editor discusses various aspects of your manuscript—some that they love, and some they think could be improved. I've heard of them running anywhere from one page to 20+, but many seem to hover in the double-digit range. Different editors will have their own approach. Mine broke it down into sections: Characters (with subsections for each major player), Romance, World Building, Plot Development, an overarching element specific to my story, the Aftermath, and (since mine is a retelling) connections to Snow White.
Our job as writers is to take this document and use it to help us revise our novel to beyond-brilliance. (Because we made sure it was already brilliant before it got in the editor's hands, right?)
Like everything else in writing, there's no one right way to tackle this hefty task, but here are my suggestions from my own experience.
- Don't Panic. When reading a lengthy edit letter, it's easy to have moments of, "Why did you even buy my book if you hate it so much?" The editor doesn't hate it. The editor loves it. But the editor wants it to be the very best novel it can be. That's a good thing.
- Bask in the Compliments ... Briefly. They may be out there, but I haven't yet heard of an edit letter that didn't have a decent amount of "I loved this, and here's why." Take a minute to enjoy that. It helps me get a feel for the good things that should be preserved as I revise. But then it's time to set that aside, roll up our sleeves, and get to work.
- Engage Your Voice (Part I). I opened a copy of my letter and inserted my own comments in a different color. Sometimes my editor posed questions, so I laid out the answer for myself. Sometimes I wrote down my first gut-reaction on how to address an issue. ("What if my characters did this? ... Or maybe this ... Oh, wait, THIS!") In a few rare instances, I disagreed about something. So I wrote down why, and tried to think of ways I could address the editor's concerns without making the change suggested.
- Engage Your Voice (Part II). Most editors will invite us to chat with them if we need clarification or want to bounce some ideas around. In my experience, they mean it. After doing my own commentary on the letter, I found I knew what I wanted to do with most of it, but had follow-up questions on a few points. ("If I changed it so Event A happened this way instead, would that resolve Issue X?") My editor was happy to brainstorm, and my anxiety went way down once I knew she liked my ideas.
- Two Heads are Better than One. Sometimes an editor will suggest changing something that we feel would be detrimental to the core of the story. If you're a people-pleaser like I am, this can be a very uncomfortable feeling. Before approaching your editor, it might help to discuss it with your agent or a trusted critique partner. They can help us voice our thoughts and reasoning in a professional manner so we don't result to a four-year-old's response—"No, you can't make me!" Or they might help us see what we're too emotionally invested in the story to realize.
- Break It Down to Bullets. You may find your own method for this, but I found it easier to digest the edit letter's suggestions when I boiled them to very brief To-Do-List form. ("Insert mention of Character A sooner." "Clear up consistency issues between X and Y.") Editors give a lot of reasoning in their letters, which I found great for helping me understand, but once I get it, I just need a note of what to do about it. A lot of my To-Do gets drawn from my inserted comments or the ideas I bounced off my editor.
- Remember that Elephants Get Eaten One Bite at a Time. This one is taking some practice for perfectionist-me, but I have to accept that I'm not going to get everything taken care of exactly right on the first pass. You'll have to find the way that works for you. Maybe one issue at a time, biggest to smallest. Maybe grouping similar issues and tackling them together. For me, I do a pass taking care of whatever jumps out most at me, then see what else I need to catch by going through my To-Do list more systematically. Sometimes things jump out at me, and I have an idea, but I don't feel like I want to handle it right then. That leads me to ...
- Leave Yourself Some Breadcrumbs. As I make my revision passes, I leave margin comments with ideas I'm not quite ready to incorporate and will deal with later. Often it's something I want to insert into the story, but I'm not yet sure where the best place for it is. I know I'm done when my To-Do list is all checked off and I don't have any comments left in my manuscript.
Remember that an editorial letter's job is to help you take something that's already pretty awesome and make it even better.
Do you have any tips or questions about dealing with an editorial letter? Share your thoughts in the comments.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. That may explain why her characters don't like to be pigeonholed. Coincidentally, R.C. enjoys reading about quantum physics and the identity issues of photons. You can find her on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at her website ... at least, you can when she's not in her revision cave.
Monday, June 3, 2013
The Networking Introvert
by R.C. Lewis
This isn't the first time we've talked about introverted writers here on From the Write Angle. It probably won't be the last. I see frequent comments on Twitter indicating a belief that the vast majority of writers are introverts. I'm not sure that's true, because I know an awful lot of extroverted authors. (I'm looking at you, Mindy McGinnis.) But the introverts definitely make up a solid contingent.
And I'm one of them.
To be fair, I've given myself enough practice faking it that people don't always realize I'm an introvert (or that I'm shy—yes, I'm a two-fer). That doesn't necessarily make it easier on my end, especially when I fall back into old habits that need breaking.
Last year, I moved back to my home state after spending eight years living elsewhere. My first forays into writing began while living out-of-state, so I never had reason to get plugged into the local writing scene. In particular, the local kid-lit writing scene ... which in these parts is significant.
After pushing through a school year at a new school with a new curriculum (and, oh yeah, a newly acquired agent and publishing contract, too), I realized I'd let myself settle into my little cocoon of home-work-internet. Nothing wrong with that, maybe. You can accomplish a lot on the internet, and "work" has me spending a lot of time with my target audience.
But sometimes you need to get out into the real world. Opportunities in this industry often arise because of connections. And besides, it'd be nice to have friends who understand the industry more than my math department does ... especially if a few of those friends didn't live a thousand or so miles away.
I realized it was once again time to push out of my comfort zone. I used one of my online connections to make a local connection and found out a local author was having a book launch two days later. (An author whose blog countdown widget I'd made, not realizing she was local. Small world.) I'd never been to a book launch or signing in my life—sad, right?
Okay, universe. Baptism by fire it is. I carpooled to the book launch with four women who were essentially strangers to me, ranging from published to querying.
Talking to them was instantly comfortable. It wasn't awkward, and the launch wasn't scary. We had fun.
Even better, I broke that shell. Sure, being social at big events still takes a lot of energy. When the next event comes around (one of the carpooling women has the third in her trilogy coming out this week) I can go with even less anxiety. I already know some people who'll be there. Writers supporting other writers ... it's fantastic.
And friends are a good thing. Even in real life.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. That may explain why her characters don't like to be pigeonholed. Coincidentally, R.C. enjoys reading about quantum physics and the identity issues of photons. You can find her on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at Crossing the Helix. And every once in a while, you can find her in the real world, too.
This isn't the first time we've talked about introverted writers here on From the Write Angle. It probably won't be the last. I see frequent comments on Twitter indicating a belief that the vast majority of writers are introverts. I'm not sure that's true, because I know an awful lot of extroverted authors. (I'm looking at you, Mindy McGinnis.) But the introverts definitely make up a solid contingent.
And I'm one of them.
To be fair, I've given myself enough practice faking it that people don't always realize I'm an introvert (or that I'm shy—yes, I'm a two-fer). That doesn't necessarily make it easier on my end, especially when I fall back into old habits that need breaking.
 |
| Natalie Whipple at the TRANSPARENT launch. Isn't she adorable? |
After pushing through a school year at a new school with a new curriculum (and, oh yeah, a newly acquired agent and publishing contract, too), I realized I'd let myself settle into my little cocoon of home-work-internet. Nothing wrong with that, maybe. You can accomplish a lot on the internet, and "work" has me spending a lot of time with my target audience.
But sometimes you need to get out into the real world. Opportunities in this industry often arise because of connections. And besides, it'd be nice to have friends who understand the industry more than my math department does ... especially if a few of those friends didn't live a thousand or so miles away.
I realized it was once again time to push out of my comfort zone. I used one of my online connections to make a local connection and found out a local author was having a book launch two days later. (An author whose blog countdown widget I'd made, not realizing she was local. Small world.) I'd never been to a book launch or signing in my life—sad, right?
 |
| Me with Natalie at the signing afterwards, proving I really was there and spoke to someone. |
Talking to them was instantly comfortable. It wasn't awkward, and the launch wasn't scary. We had fun.
Even better, I broke that shell. Sure, being social at big events still takes a lot of energy. When the next event comes around (one of the carpooling women has the third in her trilogy coming out this week) I can go with even less anxiety. I already know some people who'll be there. Writers supporting other writers ... it's fantastic.
And friends are a good thing. Even in real life.
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. That may explain why her characters don't like to be pigeonholed. Coincidentally, R.C. enjoys reading about quantum physics and the identity issues of photons. You can find her on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at Crossing the Helix. And every once in a while, you can find her in the real world, too.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Query to Manuscript: "It's Not Me—It's You"
by R.C. Lewis
I've been reflecting back on the querying trenches lately. Specifically, I've been thinking about the query for my first manuscript. Like most everyone else, my first try at query-writing was accompanied by a lot of hair-pulling and teeth-gnashing. How am I supposed to fit all this in? How will this make sense if I don't explain all the background?
(A word of hope: I actually got to the point where I kind of enjoy writing queries now. I even wrote a fake one for my current WIP before I started just to zone in on things.)
With that first manuscript, I hammered out a decent query over on the AgentQuery Connect forums. More experienced writers gave their nod of approval and said, "Let that bird fly and see what happens."
A lot of nothing happened.
I went back to the drawing board, started from scratch, and wrote an even better query. Punchier, more compelling, with my MC coming through much more clearly. Again, the nods of approval. Again, I sent it out to see what happened.
Lots of requests happened. I think at one point I had seven fulls out at the same time.
All came back as rejections.
A couple of years and several novels later, I've realized something. My query was trying to tell me something that whole time. The biggest problem was always pinning down the conflict in a compelling way, one that made an agent say, "Ooh, gotta read that and see how it plays out." Even with the query that had some success, I think it was due to presenting interesting characters and an interesting premise. The conflict was in a supporting role.
That's how it was in the manuscript, too. Really, the conflict sucked.
Okay, it wasn't super-terrible. It wasn't even something the rejecting agents called me out on. (Rather, it was the victim of lots of "I just didn't love it enough.") But it wasn't strong and decisive and focused. My plot was half-heartedly slapping when it should've been punching through cinderblocks. I couldn't pin down the central conflict in my query because my novel didn't entirely have one.
No query—no matter how brilliant—could save me from the issues in the manuscript.
This won't always be the case. Sometimes you struggle to write a query because it's just a new skill you haven't mastered yet. Sometimes a query fails on its own merits, while the manuscript is stellar. (In which case, retool the query.) Sometimes a manuscript gets rejected for purely subjective reasons that only mean you haven't found the right agent (or the right time) for that project.
But if you're having a hard time writing your query, allow for the possibility that the problem is in the story itself, not the modern torture we term "query-writing." Listen to the feedback you get on your query and ask yourself, "Is that because I handled it poorly here in the query, or because the fundamental root within the story is problematic?"
It's frustrating to think you're done with a novel, ready to embark on querying, only to discover you need to go back into major revisions. Maybe even a total rewrite. But sometimes it has to be done, and we end up with a better story—and better experience—for it.
Has your query ever tried to tell you what's wrong with the manuscript? How were you able to tell the difference between query-problems and novel-problems?
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. That may explain why her characters don't like to be pigeonholed. Coincidentally, R.C. enjoys reading about quantum physics and the identity issues of photons. You can find her on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at Crossing the Helix.
I've been reflecting back on the querying trenches lately. Specifically, I've been thinking about the query for my first manuscript. Like most everyone else, my first try at query-writing was accompanied by a lot of hair-pulling and teeth-gnashing. How am I supposed to fit all this in? How will this make sense if I don't explain all the background?
(A word of hope: I actually got to the point where I kind of enjoy writing queries now. I even wrote a fake one for my current WIP before I started just to zone in on things.)
With that first manuscript, I hammered out a decent query over on the AgentQuery Connect forums. More experienced writers gave their nod of approval and said, "Let that bird fly and see what happens."
A lot of nothing happened.
I went back to the drawing board, started from scratch, and wrote an even better query. Punchier, more compelling, with my MC coming through much more clearly. Again, the nods of approval. Again, I sent it out to see what happened.
Lots of requests happened. I think at one point I had seven fulls out at the same time.
All came back as rejections.
A couple of years and several novels later, I've realized something. My query was trying to tell me something that whole time. The biggest problem was always pinning down the conflict in a compelling way, one that made an agent say, "Ooh, gotta read that and see how it plays out." Even with the query that had some success, I think it was due to presenting interesting characters and an interesting premise. The conflict was in a supporting role.
That's how it was in the manuscript, too. Really, the conflict sucked.
Okay, it wasn't super-terrible. It wasn't even something the rejecting agents called me out on. (Rather, it was the victim of lots of "I just didn't love it enough.") But it wasn't strong and decisive and focused. My plot was half-heartedly slapping when it should've been punching through cinderblocks. I couldn't pin down the central conflict in my query because my novel didn't entirely have one.
No query—no matter how brilliant—could save me from the issues in the manuscript.
This won't always be the case. Sometimes you struggle to write a query because it's just a new skill you haven't mastered yet. Sometimes a query fails on its own merits, while the manuscript is stellar. (In which case, retool the query.) Sometimes a manuscript gets rejected for purely subjective reasons that only mean you haven't found the right agent (or the right time) for that project.
But if you're having a hard time writing your query, allow for the possibility that the problem is in the story itself, not the modern torture we term "query-writing." Listen to the feedback you get on your query and ask yourself, "Is that because I handled it poorly here in the query, or because the fundamental root within the story is problematic?"
It's frustrating to think you're done with a novel, ready to embark on querying, only to discover you need to go back into major revisions. Maybe even a total rewrite. But sometimes it has to be done, and we end up with a better story—and better experience—for it.
Has your query ever tried to tell you what's wrong with the manuscript? How were you able to tell the difference between query-problems and novel-problems?
R.C. Lewis teaches math to teenagers—sometimes in sign language, sometimes not—so whether she's a science geek or a bookworm depends on when you look. That may explain why her characters don't like to be pigeonholed. Coincidentally, R.C. enjoys reading about quantum physics and the identity issues of photons. You can find her on Twitter (@RC_Lewis) and at Crossing the Helix.
Monday, April 1, 2013
One Writer's Yuck Is Another Writer's Yum
by R.C. Lewis
I first heard this line on the most recent season of "Necessary Roughness" on USA.
"Don't yuck my yum."
I heard it again recently on this very cool episode of "a show with zefrank". (It's four minutes. Worth the watch. I'll wait here if you'd like.)
Here's the basic idea. I happen to like black jelly beans. To me, they are YUM. To some of you (I know, probably many of you), they are definitely YUCK. It's totally cool for you to not like what I like. What's not so cool is if in expressing your dislike, you cross that line into implying there's something wrong with me for liking black jelly beans. Or even going so far as to tell me I should stop liking black jelly beans right now.
Why am I talking about this on this particular blog? Because everything in the world of writing can be a yuck or a yum to different writers.
Where this particularly comes to mind for me is in regards to genres and categories. I write Young Adult, particularly within the sci-fi and fantasy genres. I've lost count of how many times fellow YA authors have reported getting asked one of the following: When are you going to write a REAL book? Are you going to move up to adult books eventually? Do you write teen books because there's more money in it?
Extreme annoyance, and sometimes even rage ensue.
So let's assume these are just snobbish types who look down their noses at children's literature in general, right? But wait. I've also seen the (very) occasional kid-lit writer in one category (say, Middle Grade) clearly showing disdain for another category (say, YA or chapter books).
Why are you yucking my yum?
As a reader, I'm not crazy about straight-up romances. I like novels with romance in them, but Romance as a genre isn't my thing. Still, I can understand why others like them, and that's cool. Read on, Romance readers!
As a writer, I'm pretty sure I couldn't write a chapter book to save my life. Even a middle-grade book would be a pretty big stretch for me. Attempting historical fiction would leave me a quivering, tearful mass of former-writer. As things stand, I don't think I would enjoy it. Does that mean I think FTWA contributor Sophie Perinot is out of her medieval-loving mind? No. It means she's a different writer than I am. Write on, Sophie Perinot!
Don't disparage the other colors in the jelly bean bowl. Insulting your peers can leave you lonely in the end.
Have you ever experienced someone "yucking" your writerly "yum"? Please share. You're among friends here.
R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction with pride by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).
I first heard this line on the most recent season of "Necessary Roughness" on USA.
"Don't yuck my yum."
I heard it again recently on this very cool episode of "a show with zefrank". (It's four minutes. Worth the watch. I'll wait here if you'd like.)
Here's the basic idea. I happen to like black jelly beans. To me, they are YUM. To some of you (I know, probably many of you), they are definitely YUCK. It's totally cool for you to not like what I like. What's not so cool is if in expressing your dislike, you cross that line into implying there's something wrong with me for liking black jelly beans. Or even going so far as to tell me I should stop liking black jelly beans right now.
Why am I talking about this on this particular blog? Because everything in the world of writing can be a yuck or a yum to different writers.
Where this particularly comes to mind for me is in regards to genres and categories. I write Young Adult, particularly within the sci-fi and fantasy genres. I've lost count of how many times fellow YA authors have reported getting asked one of the following: When are you going to write a REAL book? Are you going to move up to adult books eventually? Do you write teen books because there's more money in it?
Extreme annoyance, and sometimes even rage ensue.
So let's assume these are just snobbish types who look down their noses at children's literature in general, right? But wait. I've also seen the (very) occasional kid-lit writer in one category (say, Middle Grade) clearly showing disdain for another category (say, YA or chapter books).
Why are you yucking my yum?
As a reader, I'm not crazy about straight-up romances. I like novels with romance in them, but Romance as a genre isn't my thing. Still, I can understand why others like them, and that's cool. Read on, Romance readers!
As a writer, I'm pretty sure I couldn't write a chapter book to save my life. Even a middle-grade book would be a pretty big stretch for me. Attempting historical fiction would leave me a quivering, tearful mass of former-writer. As things stand, I don't think I would enjoy it. Does that mean I think FTWA contributor Sophie Perinot is out of her medieval-loving mind? No. It means she's a different writer than I am. Write on, Sophie Perinot!
Don't disparage the other colors in the jelly bean bowl. Insulting your peers can leave you lonely in the end.
Have you ever experienced someone "yucking" your writerly "yum"? Please share. You're among friends here.
R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction with pride by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).
Monday, February 25, 2013
Look Before You Leap, No Matter the Path
by R.C. Lewis
Whether you're going to pursue self-publishing or the traditional route, one thing is consistent.
You need to do your homework first.
I see people failing to do that on both sides, particularly by peeking around at queries up for critique on sites like AgentQuery Connect. People who've sent out dozens of queries already but reveal they don't know the most basic facts about agents, querying, and traditional publishing. People who get requests for partials or fulls, and then ask if anyone knows whether the agent is reputable. And especially lately, people who self-publish and within weeks are getting ready to query.
The message we send when we do these things isn't a good one. Above all, it makes us look like we don't take ourselves seriously as professionals. Traditional or self, we are professionals and need to act like it.
If you're at the point of, "I wrote a novel. Now what?" here are some general steps I'd recommend.
Research All Avenues You have a lot of options, especially these days. You can query agents and pursue publication with a major publishing house. You can submit to some publishers without an agent. Or you can do it yourself and self-publish. Dig way into each and figure out which is right for you and your goals.
Take the Long View Now that you've gotten your hands on all the info possible on the various routes to publishing, don't assume it has to be one or the other. When figuring out what will be best for you, keep yourself open to different routes for different needs. Also keep Plan B options in mind.
Pick a Path and Do the Work Going traditional? Learn how to write an awesome query. Research agents and only query ones you know are reputable. (This is assuming you've already gone through and revised, edited, and polished your manuscript.) Doing it on your own? Your manuscript should be even more polished than a querying author's—consider hiring an editor. Get a killer cover. Form a clear business plan.
I'm not saying there aren't reasons to change our minds. (Remember what I said about having a Plan B?) However, if we do all the requisite work beforehand, there should be little chance of "Whoops! Just kidding. Let's have a do-over."
Decide what to do, and do it with conviction.
R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).
Whether you're going to pursue self-publishing or the traditional route, one thing is consistent.
You need to do your homework first.
I see people failing to do that on both sides, particularly by peeking around at queries up for critique on sites like AgentQuery Connect. People who've sent out dozens of queries already but reveal they don't know the most basic facts about agents, querying, and traditional publishing. People who get requests for partials or fulls, and then ask if anyone knows whether the agent is reputable. And especially lately, people who self-publish and within weeks are getting ready to query.
The message we send when we do these things isn't a good one. Above all, it makes us look like we don't take ourselves seriously as professionals. Traditional or self, we are professionals and need to act like it.
If you're at the point of, "I wrote a novel. Now what?" here are some general steps I'd recommend.
Research All Avenues You have a lot of options, especially these days. You can query agents and pursue publication with a major publishing house. You can submit to some publishers without an agent. Or you can do it yourself and self-publish. Dig way into each and figure out which is right for you and your goals.
Take the Long View Now that you've gotten your hands on all the info possible on the various routes to publishing, don't assume it has to be one or the other. When figuring out what will be best for you, keep yourself open to different routes for different needs. Also keep Plan B options in mind.
Pick a Path and Do the Work Going traditional? Learn how to write an awesome query. Research agents and only query ones you know are reputable. (This is assuming you've already gone through and revised, edited, and polished your manuscript.) Doing it on your own? Your manuscript should be even more polished than a querying author's—consider hiring an editor. Get a killer cover. Form a clear business plan.
I'm not saying there aren't reasons to change our minds. (Remember what I said about having a Plan B?) However, if we do all the requisite work beforehand, there should be little chance of "Whoops! Just kidding. Let's have a do-over."
Decide what to do, and do it with conviction.
R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).
Monday, January 14, 2013
Doing Contests Write
by MarcyKate Connolly
If you're a writer in the query trenches, you've likely seen and even participated in writing blog contests. They're fun! They're exciting! And it's oh so easy to get swept up in it all. I know, because it was one of my favorite things to do!
But before you shoot off that entry, take a deep breath, relax, and make sure you're doing it right.
DO be sure your manuscript is complete and polished within an inch of its life. There's nothing worse than winning an agent request for your full manuscript and realizing you need to scramble to finish that first draft. And oh, crud, you gotta revise that puppy, too? All that pressure can be avoided by just finishing the dang thing first.
DON'T enter a contest if you've queried all the judging agents. I know how tempting it is. Maybe they'll see your book differently now that you changed that paragraph in your query, or rewrote the opening scene. Or maybe it still won't be for them and all you've done is take a spot from someone else. Don't be that guy or gal. Mystery agent contests are trickier because you don't find out who the agent is until the picks are made. Obviously not much you can do there but close your eyes, hit send, and hope for the best!
DO ask questions. Most blog contests have an announcement post before the entry window. If you're unclear on the rules, don't be afraid to ask in the comments. Others might have the same questions.
DON'T freak out if you don't get picked. Sometimes you'll miss the submission window. Sometimes your entry won't get past the preliminary judging. Sometimes every entry will get a request but yours. This is totally normal and even to be expected. Subjectivity is kind of a bitch. Sure it sucks, but don't let it get you down for too long. Keep trying—maybe next time will be your turn to win :)
DO make friends with other contest entrants! This is a fabulous opportunity to find new critique partners, or just general writerly camaraderie. Case in point, last year's Writers Voice contest.
DON'T stress too much. I know it's hard, but it's important! Your writing career does not depend on any single contest. Seriously. So have fun, keep your chin up, and try not to stress.
DO keep querying. Every contest is different and provides a new way of presenting your work. I've seen everything from one line pitches, Twitter pitches, one paragraph pitches, full queries, first lines, first pages, first paragraphs—you get the idea. Not everyone is good at all of these. Just because your 13-word pitch didn't blow an agent's socks off doesn't mean your actual query won't.
If you're looking for contests to enter, you're in luck! There's a bunch coming up and several blogs that run them regularly.
Current Contests:
MarcyKate Connolly writes middle grade and young adult fiction and becomes a superhero when sufficiently caffeinated. When earthbound, she blogs at her website and ferrets out contests on Twitter. Her debut upper MG fantasy novel, MONSTROUS, will be out from HarperCollins Children's Books in Summer 2014.
If you're a writer in the query trenches, you've likely seen and even participated in writing blog contests. They're fun! They're exciting! And it's oh so easy to get swept up in it all. I know, because it was one of my favorite things to do!
But before you shoot off that entry, take a deep breath, relax, and make sure you're doing it right.
DO be sure your manuscript is complete and polished within an inch of its life. There's nothing worse than winning an agent request for your full manuscript and realizing you need to scramble to finish that first draft. And oh, crud, you gotta revise that puppy, too? All that pressure can be avoided by just finishing the dang thing first.
DON'T enter a contest if you've queried all the judging agents. I know how tempting it is. Maybe they'll see your book differently now that you changed that paragraph in your query, or rewrote the opening scene. Or maybe it still won't be for them and all you've done is take a spot from someone else. Don't be that guy or gal. Mystery agent contests are trickier because you don't find out who the agent is until the picks are made. Obviously not much you can do there but close your eyes, hit send, and hope for the best!
DO ask questions. Most blog contests have an announcement post before the entry window. If you're unclear on the rules, don't be afraid to ask in the comments. Others might have the same questions.
DON'T freak out if you don't get picked. Sometimes you'll miss the submission window. Sometimes your entry won't get past the preliminary judging. Sometimes every entry will get a request but yours. This is totally normal and even to be expected. Subjectivity is kind of a bitch. Sure it sucks, but don't let it get you down for too long. Keep trying—maybe next time will be your turn to win :)
DO make friends with other contest entrants! This is a fabulous opportunity to find new critique partners, or just general writerly camaraderie. Case in point, last year's Writers Voice contest.
DON'T stress too much. I know it's hard, but it's important! Your writing career does not depend on any single contest. Seriously. So have fun, keep your chin up, and try not to stress.
DO keep querying. Every contest is different and provides a new way of presenting your work. I've seen everything from one line pitches, Twitter pitches, one paragraph pitches, full queries, first lines, first pages, first paragraphs—you get the idea. Not everyone is good at all of these. Just because your 13-word pitch didn't blow an agent's socks off doesn't mean your actual query won't.
If you're looking for contests to enter, you're in luck! There's a bunch coming up and several blogs that run them regularly.
Current Contests:
- FTWA's own Mindy McGinnis, R.C. Lewis, and myself will be running a Pitch A Partner contest in February.
- Cupid's Literary Connection blog is running the Agent Blind Speed Dating contest with several submission windows coming up.
- Miss Snark's First Victim Secret Agent contest - January submission window opens today!
MarcyKate Connolly writes middle grade and young adult fiction and becomes a superhero when sufficiently caffeinated. When earthbound, she blogs at her website and ferrets out contests on Twitter. Her debut upper MG fantasy novel, MONSTROUS, will be out from HarperCollins Children's Books in Summer 2014.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Talking the Talk ... on the Phone
by R.C. Lewis
2012 turned out to be an eventful year for me. I signed with an agent in late May, and she sold my book just a couple of months later. The agent-getting part involved five agents offering representation, so I had The Call five times—three of them in one day. With submissions, I talked to two offering editors on the phone.
The phone is not my favorite thing in the world.
It makes me feel awkward, and like I have to really concentrate to catch every word as well as every nuance of tone since I have no body language and facial expression to cue off of. And my agent (bless her!) let me know I had some bad habits.
See, once upon a time (when I was a teenager—no, I won't say how many years ago that was), I had a friend who would talk on the phone for hours. Usually some kind of teenage drama or another that she wanted to rant about. If I didn't say "uh-huh" on a fairly regular basis, she assumed either I wasn't there or didn't agree with her stance of being outraged at the situation. So I got used to a lot of, "Uh-huh, I'm still with you."
I also have a mother who can't always find the word she's looking for. Somehow, I almost always know what that word is, I provide it for her, and we continue the conversation. It's just how conversation works with her.
But you know what? When you do either of those on the phone with strangers, it can be kind of annoying and off-putting.
Not exactly the impression you want to give prospective agents and editors, right?
Honestly, I was always listening and paying attention to what the other party was saying. (How could I not? Agents and editors!) But I learned that it's important to sound like you're listening by not saying anything at all. In my case, I learned to wait until a direct question was asked or there was a full second of silence—more than just taking a breath—to take my turn at talking.
And I'm definitely glad my agent was direct and honest enough to train me up on that before my editor calls.
So, when preparing for The Call at any level, definitely get a list of questions ready, things you need to know by the end of the conversation. But also take a hard look at any bad phone-talking habits you might have.
You know what they say about first impressions.
Do you have any tips or tricks for successful phone conversations for a phone-phobic person like me? Any strategies for handling the inevitable nerves that come with high-pressure phone calls?
R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).
From the Write Angle will be taking next week off. Happy Holidays to all our readers, and Good Writing in the New Year—break a pencil!
2012 turned out to be an eventful year for me. I signed with an agent in late May, and she sold my book just a couple of months later. The agent-getting part involved five agents offering representation, so I had The Call five times—three of them in one day. With submissions, I talked to two offering editors on the phone.
The phone is not my favorite thing in the world.
It makes me feel awkward, and like I have to really concentrate to catch every word as well as every nuance of tone since I have no body language and facial expression to cue off of. And my agent (bless her!) let me know I had some bad habits.
See, once upon a time (when I was a teenager—no, I won't say how many years ago that was), I had a friend who would talk on the phone for hours. Usually some kind of teenage drama or another that she wanted to rant about. If I didn't say "uh-huh" on a fairly regular basis, she assumed either I wasn't there or didn't agree with her stance of being outraged at the situation. So I got used to a lot of, "Uh-huh, I'm still with you."
I also have a mother who can't always find the word she's looking for. Somehow, I almost always know what that word is, I provide it for her, and we continue the conversation. It's just how conversation works with her.
But you know what? When you do either of those on the phone with strangers, it can be kind of annoying and off-putting.
Not exactly the impression you want to give prospective agents and editors, right?
Honestly, I was always listening and paying attention to what the other party was saying. (How could I not? Agents and editors!) But I learned that it's important to sound like you're listening by not saying anything at all. In my case, I learned to wait until a direct question was asked or there was a full second of silence—more than just taking a breath—to take my turn at talking.
And I'm definitely glad my agent was direct and honest enough to train me up on that before my editor calls.
So, when preparing for The Call at any level, definitely get a list of questions ready, things you need to know by the end of the conversation. But also take a hard look at any bad phone-talking habits you might have.
You know what they say about first impressions.
Do you have any tips or tricks for successful phone conversations for a phone-phobic person like me? Any strategies for handling the inevitable nerves that come with high-pressure phone calls?
R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).
From the Write Angle will be taking next week off. Happy Holidays to all our readers, and Good Writing in the New Year—break a pencil!
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Save the Snark (and the Hate)
by R.C. Lewis
I've been on Twitter for a few years now, almost exclusively for the writing/publishing side of my life. If you've been around the Write Angle for a while, you know several of us are big fans of Twitter as part of a writer's social media package. Jemi Fraser recently did three different posts on great Twitter hashtags for writers, and Calista Taylor laid out the basics in Twitter 101.
You can get amazing things from Twitter—camaraderie of other writers, news on industry trends and events, and insider tips straight from agents and editors. Amidst all that, you also get what people are eating for lunch, who's coming down with a cold, and complaints about weather/mass transit/utility companies/anything else that can be annoying. Part and parcel.
Here's a small subset of the tweets out there—writers snarking at those industry insiders, especially agents.
They come in several forms, but the underlying sentiment always seems the same. Agents are evil, money-grubbing, elitist jerks. They only want crap from celebrities anyway. They won't take a chance on anyone new.
Now, hang on.
There's nothing wrong with going it alone, whether by self-publishing or working with publishers who take unagented submissions. Many writers find that's the right course for them. For others, the efforts of querying and securing representation are worth it.
Whichever course we choose to take (or maybe both!), why sling hate at the other?
By and large, agents work hard. They often hold down other jobs to pay the bills, essentially working for free on the hope that the books they believe in will sell. I certainly couldn't do what my agent does (fair enough, since I'm pretty sure she couldn't teach my math classes, either).
I imagine there are some agents who are jerks. After all, you can find a jerk or two in just about any group of people. And yes, we have the right to be ourselves and say what we want.
But what possible good comes from being rude (and even at times downright hateful) toward anyone in an industry we hope to be considered professionals in?
No matter what the industry is doing, and no matter our course within it, behaving like a professional will always be in fashion. The same goes for more than agents—editors, fellow authors, and readers deserve it, too.
There's plenty to be gained by developing a reputation of respect.
R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).
I've been on Twitter for a few years now, almost exclusively for the writing/publishing side of my life. If you've been around the Write Angle for a while, you know several of us are big fans of Twitter as part of a writer's social media package. Jemi Fraser recently did three different posts on great Twitter hashtags for writers, and Calista Taylor laid out the basics in Twitter 101.
You can get amazing things from Twitter—camaraderie of other writers, news on industry trends and events, and insider tips straight from agents and editors. Amidst all that, you also get what people are eating for lunch, who's coming down with a cold, and complaints about weather/mass transit/utility companies/anything else that can be annoying. Part and parcel.
Here's a small subset of the tweets out there—writers snarking at those industry insiders, especially agents.
They come in several forms, but the underlying sentiment always seems the same. Agents are evil, money-grubbing, elitist jerks. They only want crap from celebrities anyway. They won't take a chance on anyone new.
Now, hang on.
There's nothing wrong with going it alone, whether by self-publishing or working with publishers who take unagented submissions. Many writers find that's the right course for them. For others, the efforts of querying and securing representation are worth it.
Whichever course we choose to take (or maybe both!), why sling hate at the other?
By and large, agents work hard. They often hold down other jobs to pay the bills, essentially working for free on the hope that the books they believe in will sell. I certainly couldn't do what my agent does (fair enough, since I'm pretty sure she couldn't teach my math classes, either).
I imagine there are some agents who are jerks. After all, you can find a jerk or two in just about any group of people. And yes, we have the right to be ourselves and say what we want.
But what possible good comes from being rude (and even at times downright hateful) toward anyone in an industry we hope to be considered professionals in?
No matter what the industry is doing, and no matter our course within it, behaving like a professional will always be in fashion. The same goes for more than agents—editors, fellow authors, and readers deserve it, too.
There's plenty to be gained by developing a reputation of respect.
R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).
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