Author Archive

How to Revise Without Losing Your Sanity

I’m reposting this in a slightly edited form from a comment I left on Stephanie Damore’s blog yesterday. She was asking for advice about how to approach a major revision, and this was my answer:If you’re tackling a structural revision, this is the way I did my last one. It’s a little labor intensive, but it’s got structure out the wazoo, which I find incredibly helpful for keeping me from flying into a panic.First: Go watch Dan Wells’ talk on story structure, if you haven’t. The video is here, and you can download his powerpoint to follow along here.Then, what I did for my novel, which was “finished” but had some serious structural issues I didn’t have the foggiest idea how to solve, was I wrote down every plot thread that I could think of in the book.Next, I used Dan Wells’ method to build a 7-point system for each plot thread. Many of them, I didn’t all seven points — those were places where I had structural problems, so I worked on making sure that I had the complete chart filled out for every single thread, making sure that each had a solid arc, progression, and conclusion. Being able to work with just one thread at a time really helped keep the panic down because I could focus on just that one, instead of getting overwhelmed by the book as a whole.You can see in the image above how I color coded the threads. Then I printed them out on 3×5 cards, one point per card, and spent a while crawling around on my living room floor, arranging everything into chronological order. When I was done with that, I’d turned my half-a-dozen threads into one long plot.The places where there are multiple cards next to each other are where the same plot point spread across multiple threads. When I was satisfied with my layout, I typed the cards up into an outline. With that in hand, I went through the book, using the outline to identify scenes that were superfluous to the plot and needed to be gotten rid of, as well as places where new scenes had to be written to fill in the holes of my first draft.Although this does take a fair bit of work beforehand, I’ve found it so incredibly helpful, because it eliminates away the panic of “oh my god, I don’t know how to fix this”. Using Dan Wells’ structure helps me to identify exactly where the problems are and how to fix them, and having the whole thing outlined beforehand means that once I’m actually working on the book, I only have to focus on the scene in front of me, instead of getting pulled a million different directions by a hundred different scenes that all need to be fixed.It also works great for outlining the book before you start writing the first draft, but I like pantsing well enough that I usually only do that if I’m feeling really intimidated by a book.Does anyone else use Dan Wells’ system? What other methods do you use for structuring your books? Please share! I’m always on the look out for more tools.

Going to the motherf*cking DENTIST like an ADULT

(For those who don’t get the reference: run, don’t walk, to this post, and discover the sheer, unadulterated hilarity that is Hyperbole and a Half)When I was a kid, I used to love going to the dentist. They had a fish tank with tons of awesome, exotic fish that I got to stare at while we waited, Dr. Lamb was awesome and funny, and at the end of every visit, we got to pick a toy out of this treasure chest to take home with us. I knew that there was this prevalent trope about people being afraid of the dentist, but I really didn’t understand why.Sometime between then and now, I contracted the disease, and now I understand it all too well. I had an appointment with the dentist this morning, and I spent much of the past 24 hours trying to think up plausible excuses to miss it. The thing is, for me, the reluctance doesn’t actually have anything to do with the dental work. My dread is focused on the actual dentist, and how at my last appointment, I was made to feel like a horrible excuse for a human being because I had the temerity to need a root canal. Needles and drills I can handle, but shaming? Oh hell no. That’s the quickest way to get me to avoid coming in for a cleaning. Which then leads to needing root canals. You see the problem…In any case, I may have been praying for a Hail Mary save or a spontaneously dead car battery up until the very last minute, but in the end, I put on my big girl panties and went to the dentist. Turns out, they were much more respectful this time. The worst (and longest) part were the x-rays. My geeky heart thinks that the fact that they can do digital x-rays now is completely kick-ass, but my gag reflex begs to differ.

People Behaving Badly

This has been making its way around the intertubes, especially amongst writerly folk, but for those who haven’t seen it yet: Jacqueline Howett loses her shit over a mildly-unpleasant review.Seriously, people. Don’t be That Guy. Bad reviews suck, but the internet is forever, and acting like a big enough ass that everyone and their brother is talking about it and people are even selling CafePress items commemorating your idiocy sucks even worse.I read an article recently about a man who runs an online shop and is horrifically nasty to his customers. Why? Because even negative chatter boosts his site’s Google ranking, which gives him greater visibility and therefore more sales. Personally, I think maintaining that level of vitriol sounds exhausting, and I don’t think the take-away from that piece should be that acting like an ass on the internet can increase your sales. It may be true in the short run, but it’s not going to get you many long-term fans.I think the more important thing to take from that article is that even negative publicity can boost your sales. So the next time you get a review that hurts, take a deep breath and please, walk away. I’ve been known to buy a book based on a negative review, because even while it was clearly not the reviewer’s cup of tea, it sounded like mine. But I will not give my money to authors who behave badly on the internet, and even just a cursory look at the comments on that article shows that I’m not alone.

The Kubler-Ross model for writers

Yesterday, I discovered that the Kübler-Ross Model applies equally well to realizing the hard truth about your story’s length as it does to grief, and slid through the first three stages in the course of one conversation.

Stage 1: Denial
“This book is totally going to come in at the right length. Absolutely. Not a problem. What do you mean, you think the fact that I’ve already blown half the word count on the first 24 hours of action might be a problem? Don’t worry about it. I’ve totally got this under control.”

Stage 2: Anger
“God DAMN it! This book is going to run long. Son of a bitch. Damn word count limits! Stupid book! I hate you!”

Stage 3: Bargaining
“Well…maybe if I just run a little bit over… just a couple thousand words. Ten thousand, maybe? I could totally trim that out and get it in at the right length. Maybe it won’t be too bad.”

This is where I am right now. ;) This book’s supposed to have an upper limit of 35k, and I’m kind of hoping that maybe if I can keep it to 45k, I can cut that extra flab out. 10k’s not so much, right? I mean, it’s only 22% of the book…

Next up, Stage 4: Depression
“OMG, this sucks. I am never going to get this short enough. I’m doomed. All this work, and it’s going to be for nothing because the stupid story’s too long. Why bother? I should just go knit instead.”

And maybe, if I’m lucky…eventually… Stage 5: Acceptance
“*whew* Well, that’s not so bad. I guess it’s not too long. And I can probably trim up that first scene, it’s a bit rambly. That’ll take care of a couple thousand words right off the bat. Oh, and maybe if I condense those other scenes… Yes, this is definitely doable.”

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Spinning

Well, I’ve found that bloodhound metaphor very useful in the past week or so. The point I was working myself up to with that last post is that I don’t just have a writing bloodhound — I’ve got a whole pack of them, stored up there in my brain. There’s the general purpose bloodhound, which latches on to things like, “omg, let’s get a puppy!“, but also, to my surprise, I have a knitting/spinning bloodhound.I’ve been knitting for about four or five years, but it’s only since I started spinning, last Christmas, that it’s really started to engage my bloodhound. There’s much more creative liberty and decision-making in choosing how to spin up a yarn than there is in following a pattern. So while, previously, I may have gone, “Oh, that’s a pretty pattern, I think it might be fun to knit”, now…Now I see fiber like this:and my heart skips a beat, my bloodhound catches a scent, and suddenly we are racing off after it, thinking, “OMG, progression dyes, our last progression dye came out SO WELL, this would make such a lovely shawl, oh, we could spin it into a nice laceweight 2-ply, preserving the progression, and oh, oh, we need to find a shawl pattern that looks like wings, or like feathers. Ohmigod, Seraphim.How awesome would that be? Fading from grey out to charcoal, and then crimson just at the very edges? Dude.”And the next thing I know, I’ve bought half a pound and am feeling a bit woozy about it all. (It’s going to be an awesome shawl, though.)