Writing Misunderstandings & FOTC

It is the week of Blogging Elsewhere! Today I'm at the Ruby Slipper Blog chattering about how to milk a misunderstanding conflict for all its worth. (And I snuck in a bonus Flight of the Conchords video!) Check it out, y'all!

Stupid Epiphanies - POV

I love stupid epiphanies. What, you may ask, is a stupid epiphany? Well, friends, a stupid epiphany is one of those things which is utterly obvious to the rest of the world, which you have been told a dozen different ways a dozen different times, which always seems to be somehow untrue and then one day BAM! (Please visualize Emeril screaming this as a magician makes him disappear and the entire stage on which this is being performed explodes in a cloud of realization.) Eureka! Aha! The light bulb goes off. The obvious is suddenly obvious not just to everyone else, but to you also. You feel brilliant, empowered, and yet somehow stupider than the rest of the world because it took you so damn long to come to a realization that everyone else was having months ago. That, my friends, is a stupid epiphany. And I just had me a doozie.

Point of View. The most basic of tools in any author’s toolbox. Writing 101. Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy. Of course, I know all about POV. (If you feel so inclined, now would be the time to laugh at my arrogance and presumption. Go ahead, I’ll wait.)

The stupid epiphany? I was mixing up POV and personality. I kid you not. I thought because my heroine was mouthy and dynamic and completely dominated the scene verbally that any moron would be able to tell that we were seeing the world through her eyes. Her snark shone through, but, alas, characters cannot live by snark alone.

We needed to know what she was thinking. She wasn’t serious about half of the things she said, but people didn’t like her because they didn’t know she was just trying to get a rise out of her fellows. They thought she was just a bitch. Which she is, but she’s the Good Bitch. Like Glenda from the Wizard of Oz. We just needed a tiny glimpse inside her to know she’s really a lovable scamp with a mouth like a sailor.

I got so caught up in “Show Don’t Tell” that I forgot there is really no way to “Show” internal monologue and sometimes a character needs a good internal monologue.

So my realization hit me like a ton of bricks wrapped in a sock swung at the side of my head like a wrecking ball. (Needs a big sock, huh?) And now, I am conscious of something that I had been doing mostly correct on instinct. The consciousness is key. Being able to do good work at will rather than just through some amorphous “talent” means you can reproduce said good work at will.

So good news, yeah? Ah-ha! I understand POV!

And I’m a moron because other people have understood this all along. Stupid Epiphany. I’m so proud.

Tools of the Trade

Are you a plotter or a pantser (by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer)? Have you interviewed your characters? Do you know their GMC? Have you written your outline? Constructed your collage? Selected your soundtrack? Do you have a visual representation of your plot in sticky-notes across your desk?

If not, don’t panic. You’re okay. These are not necessary steps to best-sellerdom. They are just tools. They may be good tools for you. Hell, they may be the perfect tools for you, or they may be a one way ticket to disaster.

We writers are creative people. We are not only good at creating worlds and the people who populate them, we are also good at creating systems for the creating of the worlds. At conferences, workshops, and chapter meetings, you’ll hear people swearing by these tools, but that doesn’t mean they are for everyone.

Jennifer Crusie uses collages? My God! I must use collages! Of course, that isn’t how my brain works, so the images I collected lived in a manila folder in my filing cabinet while I wrote, never to be looked at again. Perhaps there was some value in the collecting itself, but I found that the images in my mind were much more dominant than the ones I had shoved into that manila folder. Sometimes an image will set me off – my current screensaver is this spooky looking Victorian house where I am setting my latest ghost book - but collaging for me is just wasted time.

Don’t get obsessed with what other people do to get where they need to go. These tools are options, not requirements. Give it a try, but don’t kick yourself if it’s a dead end. Eventually you will find the system that works for you.

My system involves vectors (everything I need to know about writing I learned in AP Physics), the kernel, percolating, generating, tweaking, occasionally overhauling, talking to myself as I drive around in my car (no, I do not have a blue-tooth, so if you see me driving around the peninsula and I look like I’m talking on an invisible cell phone, I am just crazy. No excuses), swimming, taking long showers, telling my mother how the story is going to end (she always cheats and reads the ending first anyway), and lying on the floor moaning in Italian. All of these things are necessary steps. For me.

Find your own necessary steps. If you don’t have a clue what your process is, I recommend going to workshops, reading how-to books, studying the craft and giving a few different methods a test drive. Or maybe you’re one of those writers who does best without a system. That would terrify me. If I didn’t know what it took for me to write a book, I would never feel confident that I could do it again on command. And unless you want to be a One Book Wonder, you need to be able to do this on command, under a deadline, with distractions and obligations battling for your attention.

So create your system, write like a fiend, and someday a newbie writer will be attending your workshop at the national conference on the tools to make it to the big time.

Whose Book Are You Writing?

Recently, while talking to a good friend of mine about her writing, she mentioned an idea that she was thinking of developing. On the most basic level, it reminded me of a premise in one of Stephanie Rowe’s books (He Loves Me, He Loves Me Hot). When I mentioned this, my friend made a joke about not being as original as she’d thought. This got me thinking about originality and what makes our books our own.

I know some writers will not enter contests because they are afraid of having their ideas stolen. Many multi-published authors avoid reading unpublished works because they are leery of frivolous plagiarism lawsuits. I understand both of these concerns, but so much of what makes our books our own is our voice. My friend’s book, though similar conceptually, will be a completely different experience to read than Stephanie Rowe’s – at least in part due to the fact that it will be neither a comedy, nor a romance. Even if the plots were identical (which they weren’t), then the difference in writing style would make it a completely different book.

I recently finished reading Claiming the Courtesan by Anna Campbell. I was describing the book to someone when I realized how much of it was driven by the writing style. The plot – a duke kidnaps his own mistress with the ultimate goal of marrying her – could easily have been a playful regency romp, but it was instead a heavily dramatic historical saturated with the darker emotions – guilt, shame, possession. But, believe it or not, the theme in this heavy historical is the same theme I’m weaving through the bubbly little ghost rom-com I’m writing now – self-acceptance. It just goes to show that the same concept, the same premise, even the same plot, in different writer’s hands becomes a completely different creature.

This is part of why I can’t collaborate with other authors. I’m amazed by those who do, but I can’t imagine trying to blend my vision with that of another author. I have to write MY book.

Someone asked me recently whether I tailor my books to a specific market and my answer was a resounding "No." I know there are people who do, and who do very well at it, but I can't imagine going through that first draft generating phase where the book is wholly MINE while simultaneously trying to write it to someone else's specifications. I have to write my books - which is why, regardless of how much genre-hopping I do, I would be stunned if I ever tripped into writing erotica or young adult. Those just aren't my books. (No matter how much I might worship Emma Holly & Ann Brashares.)

Another writing friend was struggling with her ending recently. I asked her one of the (many) questions that I ask myself whenever my writing stalls: Whose book was she writing? Had she gotten caught up in writing what the readers want, what her editor wants, what her agent wants? Or was she writing HER book? If you write for someone else, it is all too easy to lose your way. Sometimes it is helpful to remind yourself why the book is yours.

I don't share my work before I've finished my first draft for the same reason I don't talk to people about movies they’ve seen that I haven't. If I hear a comment, read a review, or even gauge the body language of someone who has seen the movie already, it will be there, sitting in the back of my mind, whispering to me throughout the entire film, contaminating my opinion with "Leah thought this was boring?" or "Dave thought this was actually good?" Even if I wait for months after hearing that comment or reading that review, it will still be there, waiting to be triggered by the merest mention of the movie, lurking in my subconscious to spoil it for me.

My writing is the same. I don't want some else's opinion of my stuff lingering in the back of my mind, contaminating my opinions and my voice. When I finish generating the first draft, a switch flips in my brain (sometimes I have to force it to switch) and I am ready to see what the world thinks of me. The editing process is very collaborative for me, but during the first draft the book is MINE.

Occasionally I will pick one person who gets to read my stuff when I am in the "generating" phase. My aunt Kris & my best friend Leigh have both had this dubious honor. And both of them understand that they are allowed to say 1) I can't wait to see what's going to happen next! Write more! 2) I really love ___! OR 3) Yes, Vivi, I agree. (To be said in response to whatever question I am asking about the effect I am having on the reader.) All other comments are strictly verboten until I slap "The End" on that puppy. Only then can they tell me what they really think. Up until that point, that is MY baby and no one else gets a say.

I want my readers to feel like I felt when I finished The Fourth Bear by Jasper Fforde – as if he had written it just for me. I want my readers to love my books, take ownership of them, but they can’t unless I love them first. So my advice, if you’re a writer trying to figure out how to tap into the market, is to write YOUR book. Don’t get bogged down in what everyone else wants from you. Put yourself, your voice, into it and it will be unique. And if you love it, somewhere out there is a readership hungry for YOUR book, to take it and make it their own.

In Defense of Adverbs

I love adverbs. Ardently. Passionately. These powerful little "ly" words can subtly shift the meaning of a sentence, adding nuance and style. I am an adverb advocate, but these days it seems I am in a steadily shrinking minority of adverb aficionados.

I have been told, dear reader, that I use too many adverbs. The source was a fellow author who did me the courtesy of reading my work. She circled and struck through the offensive little parts of speech to emphasize the frequency with which I inflicted them on my readers. And I do inflict them frequently. I am quite aware that I am a shameless adverb whore, but I'm afraid I am not at all inclined to change my ways.

No matter how many times I'm told that adverbs are weak words, no matter how many creditable sources tell me that I should eradicate them from my lexicon (don't you just hate the word 'should?'), I simply will not do it. I like them. They are part of what makes my writing my own.

Perhaps I do use them too often. Perhaps I should rephrase here and there. Perhaps I will. But I flatly refuse to agree with those who write the writing rules, those handy-dandy guidelines on the One Right Way to write fiction, when they say that adverbs fall into the taboo category along with passive voice, head-hopping, and info-dumping.

I am adamantly pro-adverb. Are you?

Go ahead, comment. Disagree with me. I know you're itching to. Desperately.