Writing craft – Page 9 – Patricia J. Parsons

How to prep for writing a book sequel

Posted on 21 Jul 2020 by Patricia J. Parsons

Book sequels and a subsequent series seem to be all the rage these days – and not always for the better. The current conventional wisdom seems to be that the best way to sell books is to write lots of them. And what could be easier than a series of books where the writer doesn’t have to create new characters every time? Well, from a reader’s perspective, it’s a bit hit and miss. Just like with movies, the sequel is often forced and not quite as good as the original. And it’s worth remembering this…

…The only thing the easy way has going for it is that it’s the easy way…
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So, why would I consider a sequel?

Unlike other so many other writers these days, my primary motivator in writing a particular book is not determining what can make money. My motivator is that I’m a writer. I’ve always been a writer (at least since I was about 13 years-old). I’m a writer because I write, and I have stories to tell. If those stories resonate with readers, then that’s just terrific. If they don’t, at least I’ve gotten the story out of my head and onto paper (or a computer). If this is the case, then why am I embarking on writing a sequel? Same reason as why I write in the first place – there’s a story there, and I have to tell it.

When I was writing my most recent book, I didn’t have any plan to make a sequel (and no, it won’t be a series – at least I don’t think it will!). However, as I neared the end of the writing, as I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, I realized that there was another story that had to be told. There was another character – not the main one as in book one, but a character nonetheless – whose story was just aching to be told. So, I decided I’d have to tell it. But, because I am who I am, I thought I’d try to figure out how to go about this before I actually got myself stuck in, as my British friends say.

I have a kind of method for harnessing the creative process when I start a project.

First, I buy a new notebook that will stay by my side until the bitter end. Once I knew what the story would be about, I could choose a notebook. Hokey, I know, but it works for me.
Then I begin to fill it with my very first notions of how the story might unfold. This is usually in point form, identifying a kind of timeline. The I look for visuals relevant to the story that begin to speak to me. Then I need a title. Oh, yes, I cannot write a book without a working title.
After the title comes the hard-core research and character building. But for this sequel, I’m not quite there yet. And the process that I’ve been developing is a bit different.

I realized a couple of things.

First, sequels don’t have to – and probably shouldn’t – pick up where the first book ended. This is gong to be interesting for me since this book is, in reality, a prequel of sorts. We’re going back in time.
Second, there must be new characters. Although there will be a few familiar people, let’s face it: if I’m going back in time, there have to be new people and older characters seen in all new ways.
Third, there have to be all-new settings. This is a must as far as I’m concerned.
Fourth revelation: since this is going to be a prequel, there are actually quite a few details that were mentioned in the first book that will have to be introduced in the prequel. That’s where re-reading my own book and highlighting those details will be crucial.

When I created the new timeline in the new journal, I took up a new colour pen (hot pink in this case, if you must know) and wrote in those details from the first book that have to be included in the prequel. In fact, it was those details that truly propelled me to write another one – entirely ignoring the 25,000 words I’ve already written on a completely different story. That one will still be there when I’m finished with these characters who have gotten into my head.

Here’s what I know so far about prepping to write a sequel:

And I’ll remind you that this piece isn’t titled “How to write a book sequel.” It’s “How to prep for writing a book sequel.” I don’t ‘know squat about how to write one – yet. But I will!

Journals, Writing craft, Writing rituals

Datebooks, calendars, planners: A year in the life of a writer

Posted on 4 Jan 20164 Jan 2016 by Patricia J. Parsons

daytimer I should have known it wouldn’t work for me. I know that everyone else has transitioned into the new world of technology, and I have to say that I thought I was right up there with the most tech savvy of writers. But there’s one area of my writing life – and life in general – where I am singularly unable to evolve. I cannot seem to give up my real-paper daily planner.

It all started two, years ago when I decided to try to wean myself off the expensive Daytimer™ I had used all throughout my academic career. When PDA’s (remember those Palm Pilots?) first emerged, I was one of the first adopters among my university colleagues. I do have to admit though; I never gave up that Daytimer. In fact, I even bought one of those Daytimer covers that included a paper planner as well as a slot on the inside of the leather cover into which to slide the PDA. What that really amounted to was using the paper almost exclusively and only removing the PDA at meetings so as not to be seen as a dinosaur. But I never really did get the hang of the electronic calendar ‘thingie.’. At least I could never figure out how people clung to it both physically and psychologically as if it were their very lifeline. Those early days of Palm Pilots have to be seen as the birthplace of the dreaded “cellphone elbow” that is so ubiquitous these days, soon to be followed by “smartphone neck.”

These days I do use the calendar in my electronic devices. Of course I do. What would I do without that little ringing reminder of today’s dental appointment and tomorrow’s meeting at the bank? And a significant number of my friends/acquaintances/colleagues are joined at the hip to their devices so send messages that I can immediately add to my electronic calendar.

But what would I do without my leather-bound Daytimer lovingly stationed on the edge of my desk with its week-at-a-glance that not only tells me what appointments I have this week, but also contains notes about what needs to be written when? It also has an add-in page where I can continue to add items that need to be done before I head south on a vacation two weeks from today, as well as make notes on what I’ve accomplished each day. I’m sure that an electronic calendar of one sort or another (there’s an app for that) can do much the same thing, but I have no intention of finding out.

To be clear, I also use my devices for note-making – in fact I wrote the draft of this post on a mini-IPad, but it will never take the place of either my paper calendar or all those journals I love so much!

So, to justify my existence just this side of the Luddites of the world, I offer you my top five reasons for using a paper calendar.

It enhances my creativity by forcing me to find innovative ways to remind myself about appointments without benefit of that annoying little sound effect.
It gives me an opportunity to ensure that the lost art of penmanship is not entirely lost in my own world. Since I write longhand less and less, when I do have to write someone a note, it is usually barely legible.
The sound of the pen or pencil on paper soothes my racing writer’s mind. This might be a throwback to a simpler time in childhood!
It enhances my ability to see the bigger picture of my week/month/year. Maybe others can do that with the electronic calendar, but I can’t.
It requires me to physically connect to the notes I write. As dumb as it sounds, I have long been a person who remembered something more easily if I wrote it down. Tapping on a screen doesn’t seem to have the same effect. So, if I write down that appointment, I’m more likely not to even need the reminder.

As I start a new year, I have a new calendar and it’s a bit like having a clean slate that is actually physically present. I’m going to use it and stop feeling like a Luddite for not being able to wean myself off!

Writing, Writing craft

When is a book too long?

Posted on 9 Mar 2015 by Patricia J. Parsons

I just started reading a book that clocks in at over 900 pages. 900 pages! Just imagine that. Before I bought it I read the online reviews on Amazon. The reviews were good but one issue kept cropping up: the book was too long. In fact, this particular novelist is known for her long books, usually in the vicinity of 500-600 pages. I’d read several before. I haven’t read a book that long since I read Herman Wouk’s wonderful “Winds of War” which is over 1000 pages in pocket paperback size.

This got me thinking: How long should a book really be?

If you are to believe Chuck Sambucino (whose work in Writer’s Digest I do admire), any book over 110,000 words is too long.[1] This seems entirely too didactic to me unless we’re talking about specific genres such as children’s books. That would mean that many very famous and well-loved masterpieces are “too long.” Of course, any bad piece of writing is too long even at 60,000 words which he further suggests is too short. It’s not that cut and dried.

Kurt Vonnegut reputedly gave this advice to writers: “Start as close to the end as possible,”[2] which suggests to me that there is likely a place in every story that is the best place to enter it. Indeed, I believe that this applies equally to non-fiction and fiction. Starting too far from the end means that you’ll include far too much extraneous material.

I really don’t believe that here is any ideal length. If a story sustains itself for a long session, then that’s probably right. However, over the years I’ve challenged students to take their best 1000 words for example, and edit it ruthlessly down to half that length. Then, I’ve said, you’ve got really tight writing. You have to do it without losing the message of the piece and leave out every extraneous word. They hate it because they want to keep every bon mot, every personal device and turn of phrase.

When William Faulkner said, “In writing, you must kill your darlings,” this is exactly what he meant. (Note: This phrase has been variously attributed to Anton Chekov and Oscar Wilde, among many others. I’m going to stick with Faulkner.)

Not every word we write needs to make it to our reader. Keeping unnecessary material suggests to me one of two things: either you are a serious narcissist who believes that every word you write is precious, or you are seriously in need of an editor. And in that royal “you” I include myself sometimes. We all do it. I’ve even argued with editors about their opinions on some things to leave out. They usually win.

For beginning writers, I think that the biggest pitfall in keeping the story to the essentials is including too much backstory. Backstory is for us – the writers – so that we can come to know and animate in our own imaginations our characters and the places they where they live and breathe. This applies equally to fiction and non-fiction. Knowing how to reveal and how much to reveal is the key to a tight story. When I’m reading I can always tell when a writer wants the reader to know just how much research he or she put into a story. And I shouldn’t be able to sense that. Just as in our interactions with people around us, our interactions with books can have TMI: too much information.

I think that it’s wise to understand that your notebook s and the material contained in them are first and foremost for you, the writer. Making a decision about how much of that you need to share with your readers is one of the keys to good writing.

I’ll let you know how I feel about the 900-word book – if I ever get through it!

[1] Chuck Sambucino. Word Count for Novels and Children’s Books: The Definitive Post. Writers’ Digest online. http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/guide-to-literary-agents/word-count-for-novels-and-childrens-books-the-definitive-post

[2] Kurt Vonnegut: 8 Basics of Creative Writing. http://www.writingclasses.com/InformationPages/index.php/PageID/538