Writing craft – Page 11 – Patricia J. Parsons

Eight common delusions of unknown writers

Posted on 22 May 2014 by Patricia J. Parsons

There are lots of little lies we all tell ourselves regardless of our art, craft or career. Sometimes we even share these little lies with others. Over the past quarter of a century in the trenches of writing books, teaching writing and publishing, I’ve told myself any number of little lies – lies such as “the editor is wrong,” or “I could design a better cover than this one,” or “this first draft is pretty good.” Sometimes all I need is a swift mental slap up the side of the head by someone whose literary opinion I trust to know that these truly are lies. These days I notice that the more people who think of themselves as writers, the more the list of those little lies grows.

I belong to a number of very interesting online writers’ and authors’ groups, mainly on LinkedIn and a few on Facebook. I had the misfortune the other day to read an excerpt posted by a young woman (at least she looks to be a young woman from her photo) of her new self-published book. To say that it was abysmal would be an understatement. Where do I begin? Should I describe her sentence structure mistakes, her appalling lack of any grasp of writing transitions, her continual use of dangling participles to the point that I had no idea what many of her sentences were trying to say – or should I jump directly to the preposterous situation in which the heroine finds herself? A modicum of research would have led this young writer to a more realistic and therefore more compelling story. And this is the point at which I sigh and worry about the lack of quality control in self-published writing. As I’ve said before…

…the problem that faces writers and would- be writers in the 21st century is that it is actually possible to publish every bit of genius and garbage that we produce. And it needs to be said that we all produce some garbage, but only a few produce works of genius. Most of us inhabit that place somewhere between those two extremes in our usual writing…

Maybe we’re not really lying to ourselves: perhaps many unknown wannabe writers are actually living in a dream world where certain delusions govern their behavior. So, based on 25 years of experience and anecdotal observation, I offer you my eight common delusions of unknown writers:

Talent is over rated. Anyone can be a successful writer. The sad truth is that although talent is not enough, it is necessary for success. And this is true of any field. However, along with that talent, you need to work hard, develop your craft and practice before you’re ready for prime time.
No one cares about grammar. I beg to differ. Everyone cares about grammar; it’s just that some of them don’t know about it. First there are the grammar police readers who will think you a complete idiot if you demonstrate a lack of command of the language. The second group is those who note that you are making grammatical errors and will tell everyone who might otherwise read your book to stay away. Then there are those who wouldn’t know a grammatical error if it came up and bit them, but they do know when they don’t understand the meaning of something. It seems to me that you want to be able to convey a particular message or story and to do that accurately, we all need a shared understanding of the use of our language. Period. Get out the grammar book.
I write better than most people. Can you hear me laughing? This is so untrue as to be hilarious. I have spent almost a quarter of a century teaching and marking university students’ writing – and these are students whose writing will form a very large part of their careers. I’ve seen many good writers who need just a bit of sharpening; but more often I’ve seen honor students who don’t know that their writing is a problem. As American writing guru William Zinsser says, “Most people have no idea how badly they write.” And if you don’t know who he is, stop reading and go immediately to Amazon and order his book On Writing Well. Then read it.
Thousands of Twitter followers guarantee success. Now I’m grinding my teeth. If would-be writers spent as much time practicing their writing and having it edited by someone who knows what he or she is doing rather than amassing thousands of Twitter followers, success would be more likely. Most of our followers are not potential readers; rather they are other writers who are using Twitter for exactly the same reason you are.
I don’t need an editor. Au contraire. Everyone needs an editor. My arguments over the years with editors notwithstanding, I am singularly unable to completely free my own work of errors, typographical and otherwise. I have never met a writer who didn’t need an editor.
If my friends think my idea is great, so will everyone else. I just have one question for you: how did you get friends with such deep knowledge (backed up by data) about how your target readers will think at any given time? The rest of us would love to know. Your friends are your friends for a reason and if you hope that your book will garner more readers than your circle of friends, you’ll have to open your mind beyond that circle.
I don’t need to plan my writing, I just need to write. Well, you do need to write, but this kind of unplanned writing is called “writing practice” or “journaling” and it isn’t for public consumption. If, however, you plan to publish, you need to think about the writing, as well as ‘do’ the writing. The amount of planning you need, however, is very variable. It depends on genre, process and your own writing style. For example, if you write non-fiction, it needs considerable research and a complete outline (fleshed out into a complete proposal if you’re planning a traditional publishing route) before you even write word. Even fiction can benefit – and especially genres like historical fiction that follow a time-line and need extensively researched background. Plotting for mysteries and thrillers also helps the writing process. That said, once the writing begins, it need not stick to the outline!
I don’t have time to read. If you don’t have time to read, then you don’t have time to write, and you shouldn’t. Writers are readers. They read in their own writing genre. They cross-read. They read to do research. They read to flesh out or even come up with ideas. They read to improve their own writing. They read to get to know the competition. They read to get to know what their target readers like. They read to see what sells. They read because they love language and books are important to them.

There you have them. My eight delusions. Now I’m going to go back to my incomplete manuscript and convince myself that indeed, I do need and editor. And soon.

Publishing, Writing craft

Don’t publish all your writing! Please!

Posted on 7 Jan 2014 by Patricia J. Parsons

There’s an old, well-worn maxim that is often quoted in ethics discussions; it applies equally well to us writers: Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should.

The problem that faces writers and would- be writers in the 21^st century is that it is actually possible to publish every bit of genius and garbage that we produce. And it needs to be said that we all produce some garbage, but only a few produce works of genius. Most of us inhabit that place somewhere between those two extremes in our usual writing. So we need to make some decisions. How do we decide what to publish (since writers no longer need anyone’s permission: read publisher), and what should been seen by our eyes only?

After almost a quarter of a century of publishing experience – most via traditional publishers, recent indie experience topped up by more the one unsuccessful partnership with an agent – here I offer you my five sad truths:

1. Not everything you write is or even should be publishable. Discerning the difference between the publishable and the unpublishable takes honest and active scrutiny and a capacity to self-censor so to speak.

2. It is very liberating to know that what you are writing may be for your eyes only. Think about it: you have the luxury of time to write, and maybe it will be something that you’ll share with the world. Knowing that it doesn’t have to be shared can free you up to write either better or worse than your norm. It doesn’t matter.

3. Writing what writing teacher Natalie Goldberg refers to as the worst rubbish can actually act as writing practice. Just as a concert pianist does not normally have an audience for a practice session, you don’t need (nor should you have) an audience for every word that makes it onto paper or computer screen.

4. If you absolutely need someone to read everything you write, get yourself a beta reader group. Their feedback will almost certainly tame your desire to publish every word, but only if you choose readers who are not personal friends.

5. If you insist on publishing every word that comes into your head, start a blog. And take pity on the rest of the world by keeping it private.

Get a funky journal, use it and never let anyone read it!

The truth is that there are far too many poorly written indie books out there, and this makes it harder for the fantastic indie writers to find their legitimate voice. At the very least, vow to never publish anything that is not edited by someone other than you! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve argued with editors, but in the end their input has invariably improved the writing. And this goes for both my traditionally and independently published books.

And just like dancers need to warm up before a performance, make sure that you have some kind of a writing journal – for your eyes only – that is the repository for those warm-up bits.

“Write what you know” – An outdated concept?

Posted on 19 Aug 2013 by Patricia J. Parsons

I just finished reading B.S. Shapiro’s extraordinary novel The Art Forger. Not to give it away (because you really ought to read it), it’s the story of an aspiring artist who makes her living wage doing reproductions of famous artwork that are sold as that – copies. She does “copies” not forgeries – which is all about the intent of the piece.

I picked the book up in the first place because it is at least partly about Edgar Degas’ work, and I’ve been 20,000 words into a manuscript that revolves around Degas’ ballerina sculptures for several years now, having put it on the back burner while I finished other pieces of writing for publication (and in the meantime noting that I’m not the only writer of historical fiction who has found this an interesting subject). To say that I’m a devotee of Degas’ work might be stretching it a bit, but I am a fan, and I find some of the unanswered questions about historical characters too tantalizing to ignore (remember my book about Edgar Allan Poe?).

"More than a century and a half have passed since Edgar Allan Poe died, alone in Baltimore in 1849, and still no one really knows how - or even why he was in that city. But Bridget knows, and this is her story." — “More than a century and a half have passed since Edgar Allan Poe died, alone in Baltimore in 1849, and still no one really knows how – or even why he was in that city. But Bridget knows, and this is her story.”

Anyway, as I read the book, I felt myself becoming very educated about the fine points of both the art and the science of oil painting. I relied on the author of this fictional piece to have done her homework: I wanted to believe in the details that so made the story feel authentic and rich. But I always kept in the back of my mind that this is a work of fiction…so the question always becomes: where is the line between fiction and fact drawn in these kinds of tales, and does it matter?

Most authors whose fictional work touches on real people, places and things take great pride in doing their homework, and there is usually a note in the book somewhere indicating the aforementioned line: where researched facts give over to the imagination of the writer. So what, you might reasonably ask, does this have to do with the question of whether or not we should take heed of the old adage: “Write what you know”? It occurs to me that in these days of the World Wide Web, we can “know” a great deal more than we used to!

There was a time when research was much more difficult. If you’re as old as I am, you might remember slogging to the library to comb through page after page of real reference guides, real books, and real documents. I have to say that I think back on those days with fondness; I truly enjoyed those hours spent among the great tomes crammed with information just aching to get out. The trouble was just how long it took to actually find that information that would provide those all-important nuggets that add depth and breadth to a piece of writing.

The truth is that today, we can become semi-experts in many topics if we know how to do the research.

Writing in the New York Times earlier this year, Ben Yagoda, author of How to Not Write Bad: The Most Common Writing Errors and the Best Ways to Avoid Them and a faculty member in the English Department at the University of Delaware, clarifies for us as follows:

“Writers who are intimately familiar with their subject produce more knowing, more confident and, as a result, stronger results…the idea is to investigate the subject till you can write about it with complete confidence and authority. Being a serial expert is actually one of the cool things about the very enterprise of writing…”[1]

And therein lays the wonder of these days of information overload: for writers, this overload is among the most essential tools in our toolboxes.

The trick, as with all tools, is to become an expert at using it!

As my own writing segued from non-fiction into fiction, I’ve been forever grateful for the research skill I was able to hone through the years. For any of us who are writing fiction with a basis in fact, those skills are crucial to the authentic voice we all seek.

[1] Ben Yagoda. Should we write what we know? The New York Times online, July 22, 2013, http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/07/22/should-we-write-what-we-know/?_r=0