Getting resourceful

This entry is part 1 of 5 in the series Writing resources

While we like to hear stories about prodigies and untaught geniuses who magical write perfectly poetic prose (and always on the first draft!), the reality is that for pretty much everyone, writing takes a lot of practice, effort, time—and learning.

Writing resources are really important in that learning process. Everything from craft books to conferences can help us improve our writing craft (not to mention learning about the the business side of publishing). From the mechanics of writing to story-level technique, writing resources can help us every step of the way.

And yet sometimes, it’s still hard for us to take that help—for me, it’s often either the expense (of money and time—I’d rather be writing!), or debating whether I really need to work on that area (answer: probably). Can’t I figure this out on my own? Shouldn’t I?

Maybe, maybe not. No, a critique group or a class can’t teach you how to write—at least not if you’re not willing to listen and learn and try new things, and apply them in your writing. But finding those new things to try, identifying your weaknesses and finding ways to improve them all take a lot longer (and may not be as effective) if we don’t seek that outside help.

So this week, we’ll be looking at writing resources, and how they’ve helped us learn and grow as writers!

What writing resources have helped you in your writing journey? (If you’re interested in joining the series with a guest post, I still have openings!)

Photo by Fabrice Clerc

Craft books: Writing the Breakout Novel

This entry is part 2 of 5 in the series Writing resources

by L. Jagi Lamplighter

My favorite book on how to write is Writing the Breakout Novel, by Donald Maass. Before encountering it, I was a non-believer. Writing books did nothing for me. Most seemed to be filled with an endless list of what not to do.

But something impelled me pick this book up . . . and everything changed!

Donald Maass is a top New York agent. He reads hundreds of manuscripts a year, maybe thousands. One day—perhaps dazed by the endless mountain of manuscripts he had to scale to reach his desk every day—he began thinking about the phenomena of the breakout novel.

A breakout novel is not the same thing as a bestseller. A bestseller is a book that sells enough to make it onto the New York Times Bestseller’s list. A breakout novel is a novel that sells far more than anticipated. It might be a bestseller, or it might just be a book that was expected to sell five thousand that sold twenty thousand.

The significant thing about breakout novels, however, is that most of them do not get a lot of time or money put into promotion. Which makes sense. No one expected them to do well. But it means that their popularity came almost entirely from word of mouth.

And that is the ultimate compliment a book can have—that it sold well just because people who liked it told other people.

Maass’s question, as he looked nervously up at the tower of papers tottering over his desk, was this: Is the success of these breakout novels due to chance? Or were they actually better than other books?

So, he went out and bought himself one hundred recent breakout novels, and he read them.

And, guess what? They were better!

Which led him to another question: What made them better? What did these books have that so many of the manuscripts piled in the mountain looming over his desk lacked?

This search led to his book, Writing the Breakout Novel. Its success led to him teaching a workshop. He wrote up many of his exercises into a second book, the Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook. (He has since published a third related work called: The Fire in Fiction.)

In his work, Maass identifies what these books do that make them different: engrossing story, enchanting characters, enthralling pacing, enduring themes. Then, for each point, he shows how they do it. Giving examples and exercises that help the writer bring out similar strengths in their own work.

He identifies particular techniques for raising the stakes, for heightening emotions, for bringing characters to life. He also discusses the importance of them and identifies the two themes that resonate most with readers.

Reading his work entirely changed my fiction.

Nearly all of Maass’s work is useful and insightful. Of all Maass’s exercises, however, my favorite is the one on page 64. (This is the villain’s version, but is just as useful for protagonists. I picked it because it is concise—having all the character exercises together in one place.) In it, he urges the writer to note the main quality and goal of their character. Then, to chose an opposite quality and goal. (I find that ‘contrasting’ or ‘opposing’ often works better than opposite.) Then, write a scene in which the character demonstrates the opposing quality or reveals the contrasting goal.

This simple exercise can raise a character to a whole new level, catapulting one-dimensional characters into two-dimensions, and two-dimensional characters in to well-rounded three-dimensional ones.

How does this work?

In art, contrast and shading is what gives an object the appearance of three-dimensions. In writing, it is the same thing. Real life is a jumble of conflicts. We want to save money and buy that new vacuum. We want to move to the location of our dreams and stay near family. We want to admire our cake and eat it, too. These internal struggles are always with us, tormenting and compelling us.

When characters have similar struggles, we innately recognize it as like life, the same way that our eye is fooled by a little dark paint into believing that the shaded side of the bowl of fruit is farther away from us than the brighter side, because it reminds our eye of real shadows on real red glass bowls.

This is only one exercise of many that really brings one’s fiction alive. Another favorite is to take a moment and to pull it out of time, pausing to remind the reader how the past (last year, last month, ten minutes ago) is different from the present—how the character has changed in the intervening time. It is a wonderful trick for heightening the emotional impact of a scene and for drawing out the implications of your characters experience.

These examples are only two of many, many excellent points. His book can be used like a practical reference manual. Stuck? Not sure what your scene needs next? Open the Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook and flip through it until one of the techniques included leaps out at you, sweeping away your writer’s block.

So, as I mentioned, Writing the Breakout Novel is a book that helps the writer know what to do, instead of just what not to do. I found it so useful, I went and took his workshop in person, which was also very helpful.

Armed with Maass’s insights, I entirely revamped my novel and finally made the long-dreamed-of jump from the looming, teetering submission pile to the shelves of my local bookstore. You can, too!

About the author
L. Jagi Lamplighter is the author of the Prospero’s Daughter series, beginning with Prospero Lost. Her short stories have been featured in several science fiction, horror and fantasy anthologies. She also enjoys romance and anime. She blogs at Visions of Arhyalon.

Writing with class(es)

This entry is part 3 of 5 in the series Writing resources

If you subscribe to enough writing blogs, you’re sure to see at least one workshop or course recommended. I see a few every week, and most of the time, I dismiss them easily. “Not writing a query,” I tell myself. “Not going to LA. Not spending $375.” Plus, I’d only have the recommendation of that one blogger (who might even be teaching the course).

Finally, there was a course where I ran out of excuses. The blogger posting about it included dozens of testimonials, I’d heard of the teacher before, it was online and it was $30 (which I consider affordable). So I signed up.

From the first lesson, I have found ways to improve my writing and push myself more. The course concepts—portraying character emotions vividly—pushed me to examine my writing, pointing out patterns and opportunities for improvement.

I think the most interesting thing I’ve learned so far is that some of the things I’ve tried to avoid are actually things that best-selling authors do—and do a lot. They’re things that readers actually like, and not violations of those “immutable writing laws” we can only break once we’ve sold 50,000 books.

For example, I actually avoided using more elaborate body language descriptions (although those can take away from a scene and should be used with care) or telling how the dialogue was said (not using adverbs, mostly: sentences like “She used the same patronizing tone she’d use with a two-year-old.”). Some best-selling authors, however, use those to portray emotions powerfully and vividly—and they have more than one of the “dialogue cues” per page.

Something else I love about this class is that it encourages us to look at our manuscripts so we can customize the lessons to our writing—the assignments almost all instruct us to go to our manuscript, so we can analyze how we work, and how we write, so we can discover where we need improvement individually.

About halfway through the course, I was so excited about what I was learning that I went on a big “sign up for classes” kick. I found some free classes online and . . . maybe I’ve gone a little overboard. By April 9, I’ll have been through seven classes. I’m taking classes on things I feel I already do well (can never hurt to get better, right?) to things I want to do better. I’ll let you know if that’s a little excessive—if I live through them all 😉 .

What do you think? What classes have you really enjoyed? What topics have you taken classes on?

PS: the class I’m taking is Empowering Character Emotions from Margie Lawson. Loving it! In addition to an online class, you could also take this as an “independent study” course—it’s $22 for the lecture packet (and no, I don’t get a cut or anything else for this endorsement). The free courses (with a $30 membership), mostly week-long miniworkshops, are on substantive editing, dialogue, revisions, marketing, POV and story structure.

Photo by Dave mcmt

Get the most out of conferences

This entry is part 4 of 5 in the series Writing resources

by Samantha Clark

I love going to writing conferences. There’s something so inspiring about sitting in a large of group of people who all share your same passion. No matter whether it’s a big conference or small, both have their advantages.

My first writing conference was a biggie. Back in 2007, I was living in Los Angeles and attended the big summer conference for the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators there. Three days of information, inspiration, fun, jokes, motivation and creativity. I sat in the big and small gatherings and soaked up everything I could, every word from the speakers as well as the every ounce of excitement in the air. By the end of the conference, I was hooked. It was like drinking a giant Slurpee cup of creativity, and I wanted more.

Since then, I’ve moved away from Los Angeles, but my love of conferences has continued. In my current home near Houston, I’ve found wonderful single-day conferences that give me just as much as that big summer conference, with the added benefit of a more intimate setting. At these smaller conferences, there’s much easier access to the speakers. Generally, at the summer conference, the attendance is so huge, the speakers are swarmed after every appearance. But smaller events are much more relaxed. Our annual Houston SCBWI conference holds a dinner where attendees can chat with the invited speakers over fajitas. What better way is there to get to know someone?

From conferences, you obviously get access to the information the speakers provide, which could be anything from an editor telling you what they’re looking for to an agent giving query letter writing tips. But there are lots of other benefits:

  • Friends. Writing is solitary, and conferences give us an opportunity to get together with other people like us.
  • Writing help. As well as the writing tips speakers often give, conferences usually offer critiques with professionals, including agents, editors and published authors. These usually require additional payment, but they can be worth.
  • Contacts. Conferences are a chance to meet agents and editors you might work with later. Writers have made connections with editors at conferences and later sold them a book or been asked to write on assignment.
  • Inspiration. Every writer has bouts of doubt and times when our creativity pool dries up. Going to conferences is like getting a shot of inspiration in the arm. This is a business of passionate people, and that passion brims over to attendees at conferences. Without fail, even if I haven’t heard anything new at a conference (which is rare), I’ve always left feeling energized, and that was worth the price of entry.

How do you prepare for a conference?

  1. First, research the conferences in your area. The SCBWI website has a list of the group’s events, but you can find others with an Internet search. Research the speakers and make sure they’re people you’d like to hear. There’s no point going to a conference focusing only on picture books if you write novels.
  2. Once you know which conferences you want to attend – and can afford – register early. If you plan to get a critique, registering early means you’re more likely to get the person you want. Also, many smaller conferences sell out, so registering early secures your space.
  3. A few days before the conference, research the speakers again. The conference will have their basic bio, but look around on the Internet for interviews and read their blog, if they have one. Jot down some notes in the notebook you’re planning to take. This way, when you see them speak, you’ll have a better idea of who they are.
  4. If there are any speakers you would like to talk to, perhaps to ask a question or just compliment them on one of the books they’ve worked on that you’ve read, seek out this person in a nice, polite way (i.e. not in the bathroom, not while they’re eating unless you happen to be sitting at their table, and not interrupting their conversation). If they’re talking to another attendee, stand by and wait your turn. Once you have their attention, introduce yourself, tell them what you love about their work, ask them your question, then thank them and say goodbye. Keep it short, sweet and professional. In my experience, speakers are more than happy to talk to attendees as long as it’s on a professional level.

Going to conferences can be a very rewarding way to boost your writing life. Take advantage of the conferences offered in your area, and when you get home, your brain will be begging you to start writing.

About the author
Samantha Clark writes middle-grade fiction and blogs about writing, children’s books and writing conferences at DayByDayWriter.wordpress.com. You can subscribe to DayByDayWriter to read more.

Photo credits: SCBWI conference—Rita Crayon Huang; click—Jordan McCollum

Writing friends

This entry is part 5 of 5 in the series Writing resources

After I’ve written an entire series on bad advice, and a fairly long guide to being completely unhelpful as a critique partner, you may think I haven’t had any good experiences with writing friends. This is not true. (Contest judges are another story.)

I actually have several people (mostly writers, but a few nonwriters) who read my writing and consistently offer excellent analysis, insight and advice. (And, oddly enough, almost none of them actually read this blog. But thank you anyway!)

Their advice has pointed out weaknesses in my writing from phrasing to pacing—and not in the “oh, you suck” way, but in a “Hey, I think you can do this better” way. They’ve helped me see issues that I knew my story had—and find solutions to make my work stronger. They’re more than just fresh eyes to give me perspective—they’ve been a wealth of ideas and insight to improve my story on so many levels.

Each of my critiquers/beta readers is good at spotting different things. Each of them has different strengths—one may be really good at helping me to deepen characterization while another is good at seeing . . . “opportunities” for more suspense. Even nonwriters—i.e. people like your target audience—can offer valuable insight (though they may not phrase it quite the same way a writer would 😉 ).

But I’m sure we all have at least one story. How have writing friends and critique partners helped your writing? (Feel free to share specific examples if you like!)

Photo by Art G.