Countdown to NaNoWriMo

National Novel Writing Month begins in just under nine hours where I live, but it’s already kicked off in other parts of the world. For those who don’t know, National Novel Writing Month–or NaNoWriMo–is a pure fun project where you write a 50,000-word novel draft in thirty days. You “win” by reaching at least 50,000 words on or before 2359 on November 30. You can download web badges, get pep talks by video, enjoy local write-ins, and generally have a good time writing.

The Office of Letters and Light is the non-profit that sponsors NaNoWriMo to highlight the art and craft of writing and to raise money for school programs to encourage kids to write.

An excuse to write and donating to a great cause, and NaNoWriMo lives up to its tag line: “Thirty Days and Nights of Literary Abandon!”

Many writers have turned their NaNoWriMo novels into published work–after editing and revising, of course. Some, unfortunately, have self-published their work immediately after writing and omitting the key steps of editing and revising, but that shouldn’t detract from the fact it’s very liberating to sit down and just write for writing’s sake for thirty days, knowing revising and editing can wait for a calmer time.

I almost didn’t participate this year because I’m prepping two other manuscripts–one for a contest and one to publish in December–but I managed to get both MSS ready ahead of schedule, despite having a cold.

So, I’ll have leftover Hallowe’en candy for snacks, plenty of coffee, a fully charged laptop, and an idea I came up with back in the spring that I can now flesh out. I’ll crank Sat Radio or my iPod up to full volume and put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door.

And I’ll write, and it’ll be fun, until the end of the day and the word counter hasn’t hit 1,667. (To get to 50,000 words in 30 days, you have to write at least 1,667 words per day.) Plus, I’ll be an election officer on November 6, so no writing that day, unless it’s all over quickly and the poll numbers add up.

If you’ve never NaNoWriMo’ed before, give it a try. It’s never too late to subject yourself to such exquisite torture.

 

To NaNo or Not to NaNo This Year

Before you know it, November will be here. November is National Novel Writing Month–the challenge to write a 50,000-word novel in thirty days. I’ve participated since 2008 and have had great fun. In 2008, I still worked full-time and had a travel schedule that was fairly typical for me then–of the thirty days in November, I was on the road for thirteen of them. So, my first NaNoWriMo was 50,000 words in seventeen days.

In 2009 I was freshly retired and starting a new life in a new town, and I was thrilled with the fact that I only had NaNo to focus on for the whole time of the challenge. The next two years were the same.

This year, well, I seem to have a full plate. I have a manuscript I want to submit to a contest, and the window for submissions begins November 15. The MS is in good shape right now, but, of course, before submitting it, I’ll want to go over it thoroughly.

I have a second manuscript–my Spy Flash flash fiction stories–which I’ll complete in mid-October. I’d like to get that out via Kindle Select in December, which means that November would be formatting, editing, double-checking the formatting, more editing and revising–in other words, the final polish.

I also blog three times a week, every week, and I have a novel MS currently in a critique group, which means revisions on that are on-going. So, will I have time to write 1,667 words per day? That certainly has never been an issue in the past, but before I’ve always put everything aside to concentrate on NaNoWriMo.

Writing, as with everything in life, is balance, something I’ve tried to achieve this past year by establishing a writing work schedule. I’ve stuck to it well, except for the submissions part. I did increase that percentage this year–with two successes out of six submissions–but I didn’t submit as consistently as I planned. However, the manuscript I’m submitting to the contest contains forty of my 100-word stories, which I’d saved and accumulated specifically for this contest. That might make up for my slacking off in submitting. At least, I think of it that way.

I’ve come to enjoy the NaNoWriMo camaraderie–both on-line and during local “write-ins”–so much that I can’t imagine not doing it. And this would be a landmark year for me and NaNoWriMo–my fifth year. (I like collecting the little web badges.) I have a project that’s been simmering for a while that I’d like to flesh out more, and NaNoWriMo is perfect for that–it “forces” you to get that first draft down.

So, to NaNo or not to NaNo? That is the question. I’m still pondering the answer.

Reboot

Yesterday was Labor Day, so in solidarity and in gratitude for weekends, minimum wage, health benefits, and many other positive things organized labor has fought and some died for, I took the day off from writing.

Truth be told, since I returned from Tinker Mountain Writers Workshop two months ago, all I’ve been doing is revising, editing, and revising some more. Every time I faced doing something new–including blog posts–I had a lot more trouble getting started than I usually do. The editing and revising I was doing focused on “fixing” the common mistakes I learned about at Tinker Mountain and the other workshops/conferences I’ve attended this year.

I figured it was just me, having a bit of writer’s block. Then, one of my Tinker Mountain classmates e-mailed our group list and asked, “It is just me, or is anyone having trouble writing since the workshop?”

After a little happy dance that I wasn’t alone in this, several other writer friends from the workshop chimed in with the same lament. Then, our ever-wise instructor, Pinckney Benedict, silenced us all. “That’s the purpose of TMWW,” he said. “We push you and challenge you and wring you out so you have to go home and reboot.”

Oh. [Pushes reset button here.]

And, well, that makes perfect sense because what’s the purpose of a workshop if not to alter you in some positive way, especially something as intensive as Tinker Mountain? I think if we hadn’t come away needing to reboot, it would have been a waste of time and money.

I know some writers will find that scary. You’re satisfied with where your writing is, with your skill level; you don’t see how you could be a better writer. I’d counter that with, as with anything that requires skill, you’re in continual learning mode. I’ve had the same concern about pursuing an MFA: What will that do to the voice I’ve developed as a writer?

Yes, I was pretty happy (read complacent) with my writing before Tinker Mountain, but that reboot was exactly what my writing needed. I look at my work with less subjectivity now, and the revising/rewriting post-reboot is producing much better work.

A reboot can feel a lot like a boot in the ass, but, as with a good, swift kick, sometimes you need just that.

Out of the Mouths of Babes – Sort of, Part 1

If you’ve seen Cars 1 and 2, Toy Story 1, 2, or 3, Wall-E, or any of a number of animated films produced by Pixar, you’ve seen engaging stories that appeal to all ages. Though produced for children, Pixar’s films are equally enjoyed by adults. In some cases, the kids are just the excuse for the adults to go to a Pixar movie. (Wall-E and both Cars movies are among my DVD collection.)

In addition to its movies and its revolutionary advances in computer-generated imagery, Pixar is also famous as a Steve Jobs project–the one he joined when Apple originally kicked him out. Eventually and post-Jobs, Disney bought Pixar, and it’s been a good merger.

The computer-generated characters in Pixar movies would be nothing without a good story to showcase them, and to ensure that, we have “Pixar’s 22 Rules for Phenomenal Storytelling.” They’ve shown up on Pinterest and on other blogs, but I thought I give them a little different spin and describe the impressions these rules made on me and how I related them to my writing. I’ll do the first eleven this week, and the remainder for the August 20 writing post.

Pixar’s 22 Rules of Phenomenal Storytelling

1. You admire a character for trying more than for success.

When you think back on any Pixar movie, this is really its central theme. Perhaps it’s better phrased as “It’s not the destination, but the journey, that matters.” Of course, we all want to get to the “destination,” a completed book or story, but getting there is sometimes more important. Don’t “try” to write; just write. Don’t self-edit when you’re in the writing zone. Just write.

2. You gotta keep in mind what’s interesting to you as an audience, not what’s fun to do as a writer. They can be very different.

We like to do lots of fun things as writers–twist and turn a plot, dump in a surprise ending, and so on–but we have to remember we’re readers, too. Yes, write what appeals to you, but remember you’re not the only one who’s going to read it. I hope.

3. Trying for theme is important, but you won’t see what the story is actually about ’til you’re at the end of it. Now re-write.

I can’t count how many times this has been true for me, especially when writing a short story. I sit down with something in mind, but it goes in a completely different direction. Sometimes I think I have a whole other person inside me who just takes over, and she’s obviously a better writer.

4. Once upon a time there was _____. Every day, _____. One day _____. Because of that _____. Because of that _____, until finally, __________.

I don’t usually outline, but this is perfect to remind me of just what the writing process is–short, sweet, to the point.

5. Simply. Focus. Combine characters. Hop over detours. You’ll feel like you’re losing valuable stuff, but it sets you free.

I have a work in progress whose opening scene involves a person who isn’t sure if she’s alive or dead. I really liked it when I first wrote it and after I tweaked it. Now, I realize it has nothing whatsoever to do with the work in progress, so it’s time to “hop over that detour.” I never completely delete anything. Cut and paste to a new file. You never know when it might come in handy. Recycled writing.

6. What is your character good at, comfortable with? Throw the polar opposite at them. Challenge them. How do they deal?

How real life is this? Doing this to your characters would certainly make them real, not just shadows on a page. Just reading this rule got me thinking “What if I…?” 

7. Come up with your ending before you figure out your middle. Seriously. Endings are hard. Get yours working up front.

I agree, endings are hard, but sometimes they’re not that easy to come up with. Of course, if the ending is so divorced from the middle, there’s always that great R-word: re-write. (See Rule Number 3.)

8. Finish your story, then let go even if it’s not perfect. In an ideal world, you have both, but move on. Do better next time.

It’s never good for the ego to go back and read stuff you’ve written 10, 20 years before. Moving on is exactly the thing to do. I’m a better writer than I was 10, 20 years ago. I’ll be a better writer 10, 20 years from now.

9. When you’re stuck, make a list of what wouldn’t happen next. Lots of times the material to get you unstuck will show up.

This is another rule which made me do a forehead smack–what a great idea. I think we see now why I’m not a writer at Pixar.

10. Pull apart the stories you like. What you like in them is a part of you. You’ve got to recognize it before you can use it.

We all know what appeals to us in a story or novel. That’s why we read an entire series by the same author or books of a similar ilk. For me, it’s strong, believable characters who struggle with their frailties. So, what kind of characters do I write? Yep, you got it. 

11. Putting it on paper lets you start fixing it. If it stays in your head, a perfect idea, you’ll never share it with anyone.

How many of us have kept our ideas for the world’s greatest short story or novel in our heads? We probably do that because our insecurity says, “Nah, it can’t be that good.” Our inner critic isn’t the best judge, after all. It won’t be the world’s greatest story unless we put it on paper.

What do you think of Pixar’s 22 Rules so far? Inspiring? Nonsense? (Just remember the writers of those multi-million-dollar grossing films followed these rules of story-telling.) I’d like to know what you think.

Tune in next week for Rules 12 – 22!

“What do You Mean?” she asked.

I’ve noticed a disturbing trend lately as I read material for my critique group, in my capacity as a submissions reader for eFiction Noir and eFiction Sci-Fi magazines, and in reading books to review. Well, it’s disturbing to me, the Punctuation Queen. Most likely, the rest of you don’t particularly care–but you should, if not for the reason that, perhaps, one day I’ll be reading your work. [Insert evil laugh here.]

No, seriously, I’m finding that a surprising number of people don’t know how to punctuate dialogue. Here are a few examples of the incorrect punctuation; the sentences themselves I made up:

“What do you mean,” she asked with a frown?

“What do you mean?,” she asked, with a frown.

“What do you mean?” she asked? With a frown.

“What do you mean?” asked, Jane, frowning?

“I know what you mean” said, Jane.

“I know what you mean.” said Jane.

I hope you see where each of the above needs to be corrected. If not, here’s how you punctuate a question and a statement in dialogue (in most instances):

“What do you mean?” she asked, with a frown.

“That’s what I meant,” she said, with a smile.

Or a variation:

With a frown, she asked, “What do you mean?”

With a smile, she said, “That’s what I meant.”

The latter correction also employs a little variety in your dialogue structure. You can get a little tired of a constant string of “she said” “he said” and so on. Flipping the tag to the beginning is a good way to break up a chunk of dialogue.

“What’s a tag?” you ask.

A dialogue tag is what you put after the line of dialogue: “said” or “asked” plus the noun or pronoun–like a mini-sentence. And, trust me, “said” or “asked” are your dialogue tag friends. Use them well and frequently, but don’t substitute things that aren’t dialogue tags.

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

Exactly that–“frowned” is not a dialogue tag. You say words, you ask words, but you don’t frown words. You may say or ask as you frown, but some verbs just aren’t dialogue tags. And if you limit yourself to the simple tags of “said” or “asked,” that frees you up to do some showing and not telling.

For example, you could write: “You don’t love me,” she pouted.

Any of us who have children or grandchildren know what a pout looks like, but why not “show” us the pout by describing it. Is it joking, how sincere is it, it is coy?

Her lower lip protruded as she frowned and blinked away non-existent tears. “You don’t love me,” she said.

See how much more we learned about the dynamic between the two speakers with a description of the pout?

Anyway, I digressed a bit from punctuating dialogue, but, well, these things needed to be said. Because most of my previous experience was as an editor, I often get bogged down in the bad or lack of punctuation. That means the story drops a few notches in quality for me.

Now, if I see one comma out-of-place, I won’t quibble, but when bad punctuation, especially for something as fundamental to writing as dialogue, is consistent, that tells me the writer doesn’t really care about his or her work, that the concept of “getting published fast” has won out over good writing.

What’s a good punctuation reference? The Chicago Manual of Style covers just about everything you need for writing. If you’re an AP Manual fan, switch. The AP Manual is for magazine or newspaper writing, where the punctuation, in particular, is different. The CMS is what most editors of literary magazines prefer. Otherwise, a decent college grammar handbook will do. Many writers I know like Garner’s Modern American Usage, which may be more up-to-date than an old college handbook. Usage and preferred punctuation do change, after all.

Pull out something you’ve been working on, and take a look at your dialogue. Is it punctuated correctly? Are your dialogue tags really tags? Are there opportunities to show more and tell less?

Friday Fictioneers Goes to Mars?

I hope the title is enough of a teaser. You’ll have to read my Friday Fictioneers’ story to see what it’s teasing.

Yeah, that’s a tease, too.

Recently, the creator and driving force behind Friday Fictioneers, Madison Woods, wanted to know what, if anything, we’ve learned from participating all these many weeks and months. I’ve blogged a little about that before, but one thing I’ve learned is I can write flash fiction. Before Friday Fictioneers, I thought 2,500 words was short for me. How could you possibly tell an entire story in a mere 100 words? Well, you can, if the right person challenges and encourages you.

So, Friday Fictioneers makes you focus, intently, on what you’ve written. You see you’ve written 118 words, and you think, “I can’t find 18 words to cut.” But you don’t give up. You find those 18 cuts and sometimes more, which then allows you to develop the story a little better. And, I can translate that type of editing to longer works. I’ve begun to realize which words are fluff and which ones the story needs to tell itself.

I’ve also “allowed” myself to write in genres or about things I never thought I would. I mean, did I ever think I’d be writing ditties about two leprechauns named Seamus and Declan? No, but I have, and those two wee folk are growing on me. Did I ever think I’d write a conversation between two moths? No, but I did, and not only was it fun, it was instructive–I got to research moth reproduction.

And I’ve learned to ignore the naysayers who proclaim it’s death to your writing career to publish on-line. I’m having fun, I’m honing my craft, and I’ve found an incredible community of writers whose work I look forward to every week.

All that is a lot to get from a little, 100-word story challenge.

This week’s photo, which you’ll see in my story, is by Friday Fictioneer Doug McIlroy, whose stories are some of my favorites. And how cool is this? He is associated with the Keck Observatory in Hawaii, which has discovered exoplanets. That was partly the inspiration for my story this week, Expendable. (If you don’t see the link on the story title, hover your cursor over the Friday Fictioneers tab above, and select “Expendable” from the drop-down menu.)

To read more Friday Fictioneers, go to Madison Woods’ blog. Consider joining us. Who knows what you’ll learn?

Eyes on the Prize

Last week I began what I hope is the final edit on the third book in my trilogy, A Perfect Hatred. (To learn what the trilogy is about, click on the “Works in Progress” tab above.) For Books One and Two, I did all the editing on-screen, mainly because I wanted to save trees. This was even though I know I do my best editing of my own or anyone else’s work if I have a printed document and a red pen. Yeah, I came up in an age where a red pen didn’t damage your psyche; it got your attention.

For Book Three, I decided to take a different approach–print a chapter or two at a time and edit as I retype. I got the idea from a writer friend, Cliff Garstang, who had blogged about it in one of his regular “Tips for Writers” posts. Even though he recommended it and has done it to good results, he indicated doing it for a novel might be daunting. I scoffed inwardly, but I should heed my writing peers who’ve blazed the trail.

It is daunting, but it’s also working.

Somehow, I’m seeing plot holes better; I’m improving the dialogue; I’m tweaking the characters. I’d always considered this the weakest of the three books when I knew it needed to be the strongest: It’s wrapping up all the plot threads from the other two and bringing the story to the usual epic conclusion. (Just joking. A little.) I knew this was a draft that needed more “meat,” and though the usual result of a revision is cutting the fluff, I’ve found this retyping-as-revision approach has allowed me to add muscle to what was a lean frame. Since I’ve cut 150+ pages from the first two books, I think I have a little slack in the fact I’ve added fifteen pages thus far to this one.

And I’m trying to manage killing trees by reusing the second side of the paper–using 275 sheets of paper (just over half a ream) to print 550 pages. That’s double-spaced, by the way.

On the other hand, it’s been a long time since I’ve sat down and generated 100,000+ words–or regenerated in this instance. It’s hard on the buttocks, it’s hard on the wrists and fingers, and it’s a strain on the eyes.

But I’ll end up with something better when it’s all done, something that will be more than ready to submit to agents. That’s the prize to keep the weary eyes on.

How do you edit/revise? Do you retype or print out and use a pen of any color?

G&P They Ain’t So Bad

I learned grammar and punctuation a couple of generations ago from teachers who’d learned them a couple of generations before that. My approach to both, then, tends to be on the old-fashioned side; some might say pedantic. I even learned how to diagram sentences–not that I ever used it after that classroom exercise in 9th Grade.

As a result, I’m not forgiving of “experimental writing styles” and just see that as an excuse poor writers use when it’s obvious they haven’t taken the time to proofread and correct glaring errors. “A good story will shine through,” others like to say. Well, not if you can’t see the forest for the trees of bad grammar and incorrect punctuation.

If this all sounds familiar, I’ve beat this drum before, especially regarding indie or self-published authors. You can’t succumb to the lure of instant publishing and slap up a story scribbled in your journal on Amazon then wonder why you get one-star reviews for the mess. Worse than that is when friends give you five stars because they’re your friends and not necessarily editors. That fools people into buying the mess, and where that might get you a check from Amazon, I think it’s deceptive.

The counter argument comes: Oh, I’ve seen typos and grammatical errors in traditionally published works, and they still sell.

Yes, I’ll concede that–one or two per book; I’ve spotted them myself. That’s not in the league of ten or twelve per paragraph, as I’ve seen in some Indie books I’ve read.

Of course, grammar and punctuation go out the window in dialogue, especially if that fits the character. If you’re writing in first person from the point of view of an uneducated person, then precise grammar doesn’t ring true for that character.

I recently wrote a story I submitted to a contest that is all dialogue, but without quotation marks and dialogue tags. I know my 9th Grade English teacher is spinning in her grave, but for this story, it worked. And it’s grammatically correct and properly punctuated otherwise. That’s about as experimental as I get.

Grammar and punctuation don’t stifle your writerly voice. They’re icing on the cake. They make what you’ve written “look pretty” and, more importantly, read sensibly. They make you, the author, appear to readers as a true writer, someone who has taken the time to do it properly. If that makes me pedantic, so be it.

Don’t forget, go to Saturday’s post and vote for the cover of my new e-book.

Deciding Not to Review

Because I’ve given the author of a book I was supposed to review the option of my not reviewing it, I won’t be mentioning the book or the author in this post.

I’ve always been a bit quixotic–I voted for George McGovern in 1972, after all. Lately, I feel as if I’m single-handedly tilting at the windmill of “not self-publishing before you proofread.” I don’t want to be like some writers and disdain other writers who have “indie published,” or self-published, if you will. If a writer comes to the decision that self-publishing is for him or her, I respect that decision, and I try not to be judgemental about it. My collection of short stories, Rarely Well-Behaved, technically, was self-published. I won the contract in a short story contest, so I like to think that the merit of the story got the contract. Even up against a submission deadline, I read each story over and over, trying to make the manuscript as perfect as possible. Of course, after the book came out, I found typos.

In a post earlier this month–“Put That First Draft Aside“–I wrote about what I think is the major pitfall of self-publishing, that you can write something and publish it almost immediately. Some indie writers want to skip the editor for fear that will change their work too much. The least you could do, then, as an indie author is not skip the proofreading. If you do it yourself, you have to put the work aside so it’s not so fresh you don’t spot obvious errors. The best proofreading is done by someone who has never seen the work before.

The book I was to review, requested by the author as a result of a guest blog-post I did, is a perfect example of lack of proofreading. The mistakes are all what I call elementary school grammar goofs, i.e., they are diversions from basic, not advanced, grammatical norms. Enclosing dialogue in quotation marks, comma usage, and subject-verb agreement are examples. In the first two paragraphs of this book, I found eleven punctuation, grammar, and usage errors, including using the word “hallow” when it was supposed to be “hollow.” Throughout the work, quotation marks are missing, as are dialogue tags, commas, and contractions, among others. When I read a sentence about a bodily function that was anatomically impossible, I gave up and e-mailed the author to explain why I couldn’t finish the book and didn’t want to review it.

Sounds like a cop-out, I know, but I was pretty frank, and detailed, in the e-mail; merely, I didn’t want to blast the book in a review, which, as an honest reviewer, I would have had to do. I could have done that, and the author would have received a nasty surprise. I’d rather explain, privately, why I couldn’t do the review, and treat the book as if I’d never read it.

All of which is a shame, because I could see glimmers of a thoughtful story. It’s too bad the barbed wire tangle of basic, grammatical goofs hid it.

Indie authors, I cannot say this enough: You can’t do a brain dump and immediately slap it up on Amazon or Smashwords and call yourself a professional writer. Writing is writing and rewriting and revising and rewriting and proofreading, then rewriting and revising all over again. Tedious, yes. Instant gratification, no, but with writing, that’s a good thing.

Set That First Draft Aside

I’ve been doing a lot of reading of indie published books lately (or, if you’re a stickler for terminology, self-published books, but terminology adapts, by the way). I have a list of eight of them I’m going to review, and, unfortunately, it’s been a mixed bag of quality. Oh, the stories have been decent; getting to the story through the morass of bad grammar and punctuation has been the hard part. Part of the problem is I’ve been both an English teacher and a magazine editor. What, to some apparently, may be unimportant details, to me are essentials of language. If those fine details–commas, word usage, grammar–aren’t present, I get distracted–and frustrated–by what I consider elementary school-level errors.

It’s too easy to attribute this to lack of education, but the authors involved–on their blogs or on social media–seem to have had a decent education. Then, it hit me, as I was helping a friend with a manuscript, these works read as if the authors had published their first drafts.

That’s the seduction of indie publishing. It is very empowering, on one level, to eliminate all those filters (agents, editors) who don’t get your fiction, who don’t see you as a money-maker, who have to take a cut of your royalties, etc. I believe publishing is evolving, but for indie publishing to get any sort of professional acknowledgement from traditionally published authors, you can’t publish your first draft.

First drafts, of course, are necessary. First drafts are the place where you finally get on the page that story that’s been rattling around in your head for a long time. It is an accomplishment in and of itself to do that–one of the reasons I like National Novel Writing Month. I can come up with something completely new at least once a year. Have I published any of the manuscripts I wrote the past four Novembers? No. They’re first drafts of what will be good works later. After proofreading and editing. When I finish a NaNoWriMo project, I set that draft aside for a good six months or more before I pick it up again. In the meantime, it’s never far from my thoughts, but I’d never, ever see the holes in the plot or the un-obvious typos if I started the edit immediately after finishing the first draft.

Whether you’re pursuing traditional publishing or indie publishing, the process is to set the first draft aside for the amount of time it takes to make it fresh when you look at it again. When you publish your first draft and start seeing those five stars on Amazon (which your mother and all her friends have put there) and read the comments like, “We need more of [insert character name here]!” resist the temptation to write a sequel in a weekend and publish it raw.

Cultivate a friendship with a local high school English teacher or newspaper editor or even a friend from school you know got good grades in English. Let them proofread your work for the typos, punctuation problems, grammar, etc. You can accomplish some of this yourself by reading your work out loud–at home, preferably, unless you like people at Starbucks staring at you and wondering if they should call the cops. (In reading this post aloud, to this point I’ve found a half dozen typos, now fixed.) But nothing beats a “fresh” set of eyes.

Then–and this has been something hard for a lot of indie authors to accept–hire a developmental editor. Yes, you get a higher percentage of royalties if you self-publish without all that traditional publishing detritus, but you’ll get better reviews and more sales if a reader/reviewer can’t tell the difference between your book and a traditionally published one. That takes work. That takes commitment not just to telling a good story but presenting a good story.

I have an indie writer friend who consistently produces a good first draft–in the sense of proper punctuation, grammar, and usage–and the story is decent as well. Recently, she sent a copy of her first draft of a new novel to her editor, and now she’s in the midst of a total rewrite. You may say, “See, that’s what’s wrong with editors, and that’s why I don’t want one.” However, this writer understands the editor’s purpose–to make it better–and she’s excited about the major revision because she knows she’ll have something beyond a good, first draft. She’ll have an outstanding novel.

So, set that first draft aside for a while. Resist the temptation to publish it until it’s polished. Get a tougher skin when your proofreader/editor suggests changes (being part of a critique group helps with this). Don’t be suckered in by seeing your words in print until what you’re trying to say is in its best shape.

Be a writer, not a hack.

————
I set out my writerly resolutions for the new year in a recent post: http://mymusings-maggie.blogspot.com/2011/12/resolved-to-write.html. So, periodically, I’ll provide an update because I know you’re just dying to know.

Writer Work Schedule Update:

  • Sunday: Started reading one book to review (which inspired this post) and finished another
  • Monday morning: Blogged on writing (see above)
  • To do Monday afternoon: Edit/Revise a review of Linkage: The Narrows of Time Series (Volume 1) by Jay J. Falconer and get it ready for submission to eFiction Magazine