My literary firstborn is here, finally, in my hands.
It is surreal.

My literary firstborn is here, finally, in my hands.
It is surreal.

I’ve already mentioned how I am loving atmospheric books. And some posts mention specific books that influenced my current writing voice.
In thinking about what makes a book stick around in my mind and convince me to convince others to read it, it’s typically the author voice. The author voice and using the setting as a character.
Some books do that with such near-perfection, it’s hard to let go of the story and the characters. And those are the books that impact my own author voice, for the better.
Here’s a list of 7 books that have influenced my writing in terms of voice and tone, and have taught me how use the setting as a major character, the plot as a dreamy wonderland, and the characters as beautiful creatures that are so flawed, they’re perfect.

The wintry setting in Russia’s woodlands, and the glittering cities in the Kremlin bring this book to life in ways I wouldn’t have expected. And with the wild and eerily magical Vasya, who is such a perfectly flawed character it’s hard to feel anything but riveted by her, The Bear and the Nightingale not only brought a touch of atmosphere to my own writing, but also opened up a new love affair with Russian folklore.

The woodsy setting and the moonlight magic had such an earthy and ancient, yet fresh feel to it that I couldn’t help but be drawn in. And though I thought the story was a typical people-fear-young-witch story, the setting and the magic itself brought a fresh air to the plot. Nora Walker’s magic wasn’t anything extraordinary, but her lineage, the recipes and pages of the Walker witch family magic book, and the feel made this story memorable. It also reminds me that setting is a character, and could be the most important one. Keep that in mind when you’re writing your own book! Read my full review here.

Again, the earthy, woodsy setting was its own character, and it brought a mystical and tactile feel to the whole narrative. And that bone goat – a good reminder that even a sidekick can bring a new twist to your story. The magic was beautiful – dark and necromantic, but with a human and reverent feel to it.

Again, those woods. earthy and ancient, the setting, once again, was its own character. And the sisterly bond made the story that much more human and heartfelt. The magic was old and raw, and though I don’t remember full details months after reading the book, I remember the feel.
A great book to learn how to bring in the folklore and mysticism of an existing culture, and making it your own.

Here’s how you take something dark, necromancy, and make it beautiful and magical. The setting here is not so much its own character as the townspeople are. The magic is the main focus, and, most importantly, character feelings are the plot-driver. The necromancy is such a beautiful take on the typical dark feel that magical system has, and it brought such color and light to the world that the unexpectedness of it all made me crave more. A good reminder that how characters feel is just as important, if not more, than what they do. This is a strong character-driven book and a great example of plush writing. Read my full review here.

This is how you build a world so big and powerful, you can get lost in it for ages. Sabriel has such a strong magical system that it influenced all my books since reading it. Almost every fantasy book I have written for the past ten years has featured dark magic, necromancy, and a reserved yet caring female protagonist. I can’t imagine writing a story that doesn’t have those elements in it, simply because Sabriel influenced me that much as a reader and writer. The main trilogy is worth it, and are the subsequent books in the Old Kingdom series.

The necromancy is strong in this book, with an added twist: raising the bones of ancient creatures and then commanding them with thought. I tried writing a book using this concept and failed to do it right -it’s harder than it seems. And Rin Chupeco does it with such skill. The book takes historical features like geishas, adds a dark magical system, and creates a whole new world and cast of characters. A great example of using what you know and then adding a twist to it. The feel of the magic is everywhere, and you just know how the magic can be used for good or ill, and how much havoc can be wreaked without the skill to manage it. Read my full review here.
*Originally published March 5, 2020.
Make your setting a character.
I’ve recently learned this and think it’s advice that I can follow, and plan on following, as I go through revisions of my latest book. In my current MS, my setting feels dead, a stagnant detail that a reader can’t really envision. So as I edit my MS (again) I’m going to be focusing on bringing setting to life. Making my setting a character seems like sound advice.
Being of a science/skeptical background, I of course had to do research on how to bring setting to life and if viewing your setting as its own character is enough.
Turns out, it is and it isn’t.
One of the goals of writing the setting is to find the unique setting elements that matter to your characters, and possibly, to your readers. A setting is alive when its elements, its objects are interwoven with emotions. Think of people: it’s not just their actions, their personalities or behaviors that make them them, it’s also their emotions, their responses to events or circumstances within their environments. The same goes with settings: it’s not just the objects that make the setting, it’s the emotions attached to the objects, or the emotions characters feel towards the objects.
That is, the setting is alive when its details are experienced not only by descriptions, but also by the way the characters experience those details.
Setting should also challenge your characters. Not only physically by, say, having to climb a mountain. But also socially and emotionally, perhaps spiritually if it fits into your book. Your characters should have a dynamic relationship with their setting. Just as you interact with, and react to, your environment, the same goes for your characters.
One thing I’ve thought of when editing, and as I learn more about how to write, is that making your setting a character isn’t enough. At least, not in the way I was initially thinking about it. I think sometimes in my own writing, even if I approach the setting as a character, it’s easy for me to approach it as a dead character. I have to remind myself that setting needs to be alive, be passionate if it fits with the story. It’s not enough to describe the objects and details and emotions regarding a setting; you have to also make the setting have its own mind, be its own main character.
…You have to also make the setting have its own mind, be its own main character
Your setting should be both an agonist and an antagonist for your characters. That is, your setting should both simulate and frustrate your characters. Your environment both stimulates and frustrates you, so why shouldn’t the same happen for your characters. They’re people, too, you know.
Your setting should both stimulate and frustrate your characters.
*Note: This article was originally published on January 19, 2016 and March 26, 2020.
Becoming a bestseller would be many an author’s greatest fantasy. But, is there a formula?
Some would argue that focusing on becoming a bestseller is like shooting yourself in the foot–you’re not going to become something you’re chasing after by focusing exclusively on that object you’re chasing. That is, focusing on writing a bestseller means you’ll be too concerned when writing on how to make that book a bestseller that you’d ultimately fail because you’re focusing on the wrong things.
Others argue that there are distinct features of bestsellers, characteristics that make it “easy” to understand what makes the book and readers tick, and lands that book on a bestseller list.
In doing some research on what makes books bestsellers, and reading up on expert opinions, I found an NPR article that seemed to distill bestseller features into a 12-item list. Here are some features of that list:
Doing some more research, I found an article listing out what John Baldwin discovered of bestsellers. He was struggling, but was determined to write a bestseller, and took to studying books that had already made the list. What he found was that bestsellers tended to have these characteristics in common:
However, this list can be applied to both bestsellers and selling failures. At the end of the day, it is creativity, uniqueness, and a melding of genres into a mix that make the best books. I think the more human the book, the better. Human can mean different things to different people, but the more relatable, the more emotional, the more depth, and the more expression a book contains, the better it will be enjoyed for generations to come.
*Note: This article was originally published on January 12, 2016.
I read Jeff Gerke’s “The First 50 Pages,” and of course, half the book is highlighted. Since I found the book to be useful, and I learned a lot reading it, I decided to outline some of the main points of the book.
“We have to engage your reader, first and foremost. You have to introduce your hero…establish the context of the story…reveal the genre and milieu and your story world…set up the tone of the book…presenting the stakes, introducing the antagonist, establishing the hero’s desires, starting the main character’s inner journey, and getting a ticking time bomb to start ticking down.”
That’s a lot to do in the first 50 pages…
“A weak first line is a killer. You get only one first line, so make sure it’s carefully thought-out.”
“…don’t start your novel with a dream.”
“Your opening line must hook your reader. You must start with action. But that doesn’t mean you have to have a battle scene or anything that needs to blow up. It simply means it must be interesting to the reader.”
“Good dialogue is…layered. In theater, it’s called subtext.”
“In good dialogue, dialogue with subtext, the characters aren’t responding to what the other person says, but to what they think the other person means.”
“Give your dialogue subtext, and it will be easier for agents and editors–and readers–to love your novel.”
“Fiction is conflict: someone who wants something but is prevented from getting it…The acquisitions editor is looking for signs of conflict in your first fifty pages.”
“…three main craft errors that most often cause agents and acquisitions editors to reject fiction proposals…The big three bombs are telling instead of showing, point-of-view errors, and weak characters.”
“…information dumping is called telling. Its main forms are backstory, pure exposition, summary/recap, and the explanation of character motives.”
“When you load your story with telling, you deprive your reader–and even your characters–of the joy of having it all happen experientially. Take the information out of the voice-overs (your telling) and put it into the scenes.”
“…there are only two things you must do with your first fifty pages, only two large-scale tasks…:
You must engage your reader. That is Job One. And you must set up your story so the rest of it will work correctly.”
*Note: This article was originally published on January 2, 2017.
The beast bit me and I sat down to start a gothic novel. I started about a week ago, and I’m about 19 chapters, and 92 pages in. Needless to say, I’ve been swallowed by the premise and I feel as if, if I were the reader, not the writer, I’d read this book. And that’s always a good sign.
The inspiration is a mix of Jane Eyre and The Fall of the House of Usher. It’s about a college student, Jade, who drops out of college after she finds another student murdered near campus. At first, the police suspect her, but they quickly decide she’s innocent. The rest of the students, and the town, however, have their reservations, though. So Jade decides to take a job at a creepy old house 4 hours away from home.
Here’s an excerpt from first chapter. Let me know what you think in the comments!
“Storyteller for hire. Must be good with adults. Pays well. Call 439-7920.” The newspaper ad is short and simple, and it strikes me as off, but I ignore everything except the “Pays well.”
I’m at $39.79 in my bank account, and I’m desperate for a job. Any job. This college thing isn’t working out. Who needs physics, and calculus, anyway, no matter what my mother says about what she calls “femininst power jobs.” Show the man the woman can.
I cross the street to the payphone and pull out a quarter before dumping it into the phone’s slot with a clank. The sky is a pale blue, light gray really, and there’s a smoky black cloud in the distance strangling half the sky.
4-3-9-7-9-2-0.
I hear the line ring, once, twice, then a gruff, “Sever House.”
“Uh, yes, hi, hello,” I stammer. “I saw an–your ad, in the paper?”
I pause, but all I hear is breathing on the other end.
“Um, well, the storyteller–”
“Yes,” the voice interrupts. I can’t tell if it’s a woman or a man, but I think it’s a woman who smoked ten too many cigarettes.
“I, uh, yeah, I’m interested.”
“Can you tell stories? Good ones? To adults? Nothing too bloody, though.”
“I–I’ve babysat–”
“I’m asking about adults. Not children. Children’s stories are easy. Adults, well, that’s a different beast.”
“Uh, well, I can interview? Maybe?”
I hate how I sound, unsure, uncomfortable. I need to run with the wolves more.
I clear my throat and stand up a bit straighter, even though the voice on the other line can’t see me. I spot my reflection in the payphone’s metal paneling, though, and I force myself to smile.
There, that’s better. A smile goes the extra mile. Another one of mom’s “self-improvement” quotes.
“I can come in and interview and–”
“Do you have samples?”
“I-actually, yes. I do. I won a local writing contest, and I can send you the newspaper clipping.”
“Do you have an email account?”
“Uh, yes, I–”
“Fax the clipping, I’ll take a look. I will send you an email with the contract if the writing is up to our standards.”
“Oh ok, yes, thank you. Uh, and where’s the House, exactly?”
“I can send you the address via email and a contract to look over. I’ll want a signed copy of the contract before you come. The position is for an in-house storyteller. You will live at the house for the duration of fall and winter, and then you may leave. The Master of the house prefers his stories with tea and digestives, sometimes with a little brandy in the tea.”
“I–yes.”
There’s a pause and then, “Your email?”
“Ah, right, yes, uh, m-a-l-a-e-k-a-2-1 underscore 2-1@AOL.com.”
“Check tonight for an email. If there is none, you did not get the job,” the woman says. I hear static and a groan, and then she adds, “You may send a fax to 763-3663.”
The line goes dead and I’m left holding a phone. I place it back on the receiver and, with a smile, I cross the street back to the daycare I’ve been working at.
If I can win a short story contest, I can get this job.
I visualize myself giving the daycare my notice, then shake my head of the thought. You don’t even know what the pay is for a storyteller. It’s probably less than the daycare.
Even so, I can’t help but feel a tinge of excitement. I’m getting out of here, I’m getting away from this place.
“I’ve gotten a new opportunity,” I whisper to myself, before I step back inside. “I am giving my notice.”
I take a deep breath.
“I’ve gotten a new opportunity, and this is my notice.”
I shake my head to clear the thought.
“I got an offer for a new job, and I’ll be taking it. Thank you so mu–”
“Jadey?”
I wheel around to find Kirsten staring at me.
“I–wasn’t talking to myself,” I say.
She stares a moment too long then says, “Right. Want to come back inside?”
“Uh, yeah, actually, I wanted to talk to you.”
“Can it wait? Jeremy’s mom is coming in today to talk about his “milestones and development,” Kirsten says, rolling her eyes. “She thinks we should be doing more to ‘develop his young brain,’ she adds, air quoting with her fingers.
“What does she expect?” I say, stepping back into the clangs and noises and gurgles of babies. “I mean, we’re a daycare, not even a preschool.”
“I know,” Kirsten says. “But, the parents pay the monies, and therefore the bills.”
The door opens behind us. A tall woman with mom jeans and t-shirt steps inside. “Candice,” Kirsten says with forced cheerfulness in her voice. “Jermey’s right there with Candice,” she adds, pointing in the center of the room where a short brunette is pressing buttons on a musical book with 9-month-old Jeremy. “Come into my office just around the corner,” I hear Kirsten say as she’s already leading Candice away.
I sigh, and turn back to the stack of paperwork I need to file.
I hear Kirsten’s too-cheery voice again when she opens her office door. Two sets of footsteps walk down the short hall back to the main office and playroom of Kirstie’s Care.
“I’ll be taking Jeremy home today,” I hear Candice say, “But I’m thrilled we’re on the same page.”
Cooing and ahing ensue as Candice moves to pick up Jeremy off the ground. He blows bubbles and Candice snuggles her nose against his. Candice flicks her eyes at me, and recognition registers. I notice she clutches Jermey hard enough that he squirms in her arms, and she shields his body a bit with hers.
“You’re that girl–” she starts. “The one in the papers.”
“I’m sorry, I must look like someone else–”
“No, no, I remember your picture. You’re the one that found that poor girl. How awful.”
“It was,” I say.
She leans in closer to me and drops her voice to a whisper. “You really don’t know anything about who did it?”
I swallow a scream and shake my head. “The authorities are still on the case, last I heard.”
She nods once and pulls back from me, still shielding her son’s body with hers. “I’m surprised they let you work here,” she adds.
“I have no criminal record,” I say.
But her eyes narrow at me. “Strange thing, you being the one to find her so late at night.”
“I’m a night owl.”
“I’m sure you are.”
Candice turns to go, the bell over the door jingling behind her.
Kirsten shambles over to me, apparently not having heard what Candice just said. “Can this day get any worse?”
“It’s just a parent,” I say, “You’re always so good with them.”
“Not just her,” Kirsten says, chucking her thumb in the door’s direction after Candice. “The supervisor’s coming and we’re due for a safety inspection.”
“Oh, well, I mean, we’re safe, right?”
“Of course,” Kirsten says, shooting me a dark look. “We just got checked like six months ago. Anyway, it’s been a stressful day, that’s all.”
“Sine you’re here, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” She chews on her lower lip, and doesn’t quite meet my eyes.
“Oh yeah, what about?”
“You know enrollment has been low recently, and we haven’t been hitting our target numbers.”
I stop shuffling papers and stare at her. “You’re firing me.”
“I’m sorry Jadey. It’s been–well, I can only afford the caretakers right now. You’re a luxury, and a great one, don’t get me wrong, but I just can’t justify the cost anymore. I’m really sorry. As soon as we get our enrollment back up, I’ll hire you right away.”
“And when will that be?” I try to swallow my worry. The other job isn’t a guarantee, and not even Mark’s Market is hiring right now. And I know, because I’ve asked him if he needed an extra cashier, and he said “No.”
“I really don’t know,” she says, frowning. “I wish I knew–”
“It’s fine, I know you’ve been having a tough time.”
“I have been and I hate to drag you into my money woes, but this is where I’m at.”
I smile and hug her. “Thanks for giving me a chance when no one else would.”
“How about you go home,” she adds. “The parents will be here soon, anyway. Sonia, Misha, and I can handle them.”
“You sure?” I say.
Kirsten nods. “You’ve been staying late all week and doing extra. And here,” she adss, going around the desk and unlocking the top drawer. She glances behind her at the other caretakers and hands me an envelope. “Your cash.”
Kirsten’s been paying me cash to help out part-time at the daycare. “Thanks,” I say, and force myself to smile. “Really. I mean it.”
“I know. And,” she says, just as I’m turning to take my coat from the rack, “If you ever need anything–”
“–I’ll ask you.”
She moves to hug me, and I hug her tight back.
“‘Night,” I tell everyone and head home.
Home is just a ten minute walk away, and it’s silent when I open the door.
“Hello?” I call out. “Mom? June?”
Nobody replies as I remember my twin sister Juniper – June – is at the college we go– I went to–, and I lock the door behind me. She was here just last weekend, but left Sunday evening to get back for her classes the next morning. The house is dark and smells like stale incense. I flick on a light switch but even the lamp seems to cast a deep shadow in the hallway.
Outside, it thunders and rain slams against the window.
“Great, a storm,” I say, just as the lights flicker once, twice.
The PC is in dad’s office, the one he used for his architecture work before he died three years ago.
I turn on the computer, listening to it wheeze and whir on until the screen flickers to a blue background, with a picture of the four of us smiling brightly, squinting against the sun, comes up. I try not to make eye contact with any of the faces, even my own. That picture was taken just a month before dad’s car drove off the side of the road in some freak rainstorm when he was coming home from work.
Instead, I move the mouse and double click on the America On Line icon. I wait for the internet to dial up, the whirs and shrieks a bit too loud for the headache that’s come on suddenly.
And so is the fax machine. I quickly pull out the newspaper clipping I keep in his desk drawer.
“Okay, so, it’s this button, right?” I think aloud as I fumble with the fax machine. After some minutes, I figure it out and the fax is on its way.
I wait a few more minutes, puttering away on an internet forum for people who fancies themselves poets. I scroll past the neon colored marquees people have under their names, the ones that trail across the page, with my mouse leaving behind an afterimage of gold stars. The page is bright, using nearly every primary and secondary color, in every hue, especially neon. Everything’s blinking at me, and words keep changing color.
I keep checking my email, waiting for something from the storyteller job, but nothing comes through.
She did say later, didn’t she? Maybe she didn’t get the fax?
I try again, taking the newspaper clipping and sending another fax of it.
The clipping is only a few months ago, but it feels like it comes from another lifetime, maybe even someone else’s life.
There’s a picture of me, with a little blurb of my bio, that I helped write, of course, and there’s a snippet of my story that cuts off before running onto page 4….
The story continues, and at the end, the girl’s stalker kills her and leaves her for dead in a field behind the college the girl attends.
Two days after this article came out, there was a “Special Edition” OpEd on my story. For the rest of the semester, the other students gave me dirty looks, and no one came near me, not even my roommate.
“You think she did it?” I overheard a red-haired girl with a thin braid snaking down her back say. “She knew a lot of the details.”
“They were in the news, though, but maybe she knew the killer? I did hear she found the body.”
“I heard she was covered in her blood…”
I fold the newspaper and slip it back into the desk drawer, ignoring the second clipping with the OpEd tucked inside.
Instead, I go back to the forum I was surfing, reading through the comments about the latest Kurt Cobain song.
But finally, I hear the, “Welcome, you’ve got mail,” and I hold my breath. I double click on the little mailbox icon with the yellow envelope and the email I’m waiting for is right under a *~*ChAiN LeTtEr*~~* email from miss_cleo_sandra_8392. I roll my eyes but make a mental note to open my best friend’s email. She loves sending me those chain emails that say THIS EMAIL HAS BEEN CURSED. IF YOU DON’T SEND IT TO 10 PEOPLE, YOU WILL DIE.
But right under miss_cleo_sandra_8392 is a more severe looking email.

I double click the Job position contract: Please sign and… email and, still holding my breath, wait for it to load. The “contract” reads more like a vintage governess ad from the 1900s than a job contract, but I skim, then read, and then re-read it anyway.
A young woman, with no attachments, university experience in the arts. Quiet, not shy, can talk to people but can be left alone for hours.
This contract hereby commits you to six (6) months of labor as “Storyteller” of Severly House, hereto known as “Sever House” or “the House.”
As “Storyteller,” you will be expected to work Monday through Saturday, with Saturday evenings and Sundays off:
Salary: $13564.66 for duration of six(6) months, to be paid weekly in cash. Lodging and meals provided for. Expected maximum working hours per week at 25 hours, excepting House events, galas, parties, or any such event.
Address:
224 Coven Rd,
Sovereign Hill
Ring on the day you are to arrive, preferably by train, and we will have the Driver meet you at the station. Position is available immediately.
Any questions, please address to Amerly Seymour, Head Caretaker of Severly House.
Printed Name: _____________________________
Signature: _____________________________
Date: _____________________________
I quickly calculate the math on the PC’s calculator.
6 months is 24 weeks, and 12,300 divided by 24 is…$565.19 a week, in cash.
With my $9 an hour, and 20 hours per week at the daycare, making $565.19 compared to $180 is more than tempting; it’s three times more tempting. I’d have more than twelve thousand in my bank account after six months, and I’d have food and no rent, and nothing else to pay. Not that I pay for things like that now, but mom’s been freezing me out after I decided to take the semester off, and Juniper’s been sending me way too many emails, trying to guilt me into coming back after all.
Though mom did threaten to make me start paying half the bills because I “dropped out of school,” as she says.
I keep trying to tell her, I didn’t drop out, I am taking a break. But she’s convinced, “Drop the ball and you lose all.”
But why are they paying so much?
And who is this Master?
I decide I don’t care. I’m bored with this town and my life, and I don’t even like kids.
I turn on dad’s old printer, and a couple minutes later, I have the contract laying stark white against the printer tray.
“Here goes nothing,” I say to myself, and sign my name.
Continue reading chapter 2 here.
Adding emotion to stories can be one of the more difficult aspects of writing. Sure, a writer knows what their characters are feeling, but can they make a reader *feel* the characters’ emotions?
That’s difficult.
I found a great article that was helpful in my own skill-building as I try to better learn how to slow down my writing and make my readers feel my characters.
One thing she says in the article is to “slow it down.”
Counselors tell us that thoughts lead to emotions, and emotions lead to actions. As a writer, you can easily show your character’s thoughts and actions. Readers are smart enough to deduce the emotions based on what the characters think and do. So often it seems writers are in a hurry.
And it’s true. Emotions are processed rapidly, yes, but humans also take time to “study” their emotions, and if not study, certainly to be swallowed by them. So as a writer, it’s important to let your characters feel, and sometimes, drown in their emotions (just not for too long – they do need to surface for air and move on).
Additionally, the article says, “There are two facets of emotion in fiction: conveying what your character is feeling and evoking emotion in your reader.“
Here again, time is king. You need to give your characters the chance to feel and process, and in doing so, you let your reader have the time to imagine themselves as the character.
What do you think is the most effective way to convey emotion? Do you have a favorite book or scene from a book that showcases this skill?
I have written books before–none published as yet, but I’m working on that.
One thing I’ve learned–you can edit your book literally 20 times, and still not have it the way you want it to be. I have experience in this. I revised a manuscript some years back so many times, I ended up with 20 edits, and still wasn’t happy with the way the story flowed, especially since I have written the book as part of a series, and had finished the series in first-draft mode. Every time I sat down to the books to edit, I cringed. Every. Single. Time.
And each revision brought me to the thought, “Ok, I’m done now. It’s as good as it’s going to be at this point.”
But that’s the thing, it’s as good as it’s going to be “at this point.” Six months from now is not “as this point.” It’s six months from this point. And six months makes a huge difference in your perspective on your manuscript and on how to edit it.
Michael Crichton said:
“Books aren’t written—they’re rewritten. Including your own. It is one of the hardest things to accept, especially after the seventh rewrite hasn’t quite done it.”
He’s right. You can have a wonderful story, but that doesn’t mean it flows well and that the technicalities of writing are what they should be. Books are rarely written in first-draft mode and published as is, and become bestsellers. They have to be rewritten, and rewritten, and rewritten, and rewritten again.
So how do you edit your book? Each author has their own method of madness, but many would agree that these steps are critical:
It’s typically a good idea to let your book sit for a while, at least a week, preferably a few months. This gives you a chance to forget about some details, get a fresher perspective, gain new experiences in the time being, and work on other projects. Resist the urge to set fingers to keyboard and begin the editing process.
Distancing yourself is one of the best things you can do when editing your manuscript.
Give yourself a chance to read through your manuscript, not with the intent of editing it immediately, but to refresh your mind on the story’s details. Sometimes, you’ll find that you wrote something in a scene, but then never used, so it was wasted or irrelevant to your story arc. You can keep a track of details and notes, but don’t worry about editing things right now. You’re a reader here, not a (re)writer.
Write a bunch of short synopses of your book—and write 12 of them. Getting a different perspective on your book each time can help you focus on the story itself, especially if you are writing fiction. The goal here is to acquaint yourself with different perspectives that all include the core components of your story. I usually try to create a few scenarios—trying to examine several facets of the story. It’s helpful to do this after you’ve distanced yourself from your manuscript for a while, and then have re-read it.
Start rewriting. Focus with fixing sentence structure, ripping out paragraphs, and even entire chapters. Do this mindfully, with the intention of tightening your writing, and fixing major structural issues within your plot. You have have left out key items, or added erroneous or irrelevant ones. The goal here is to excise and seal.
5. You spin me ‘round…
You’re probably going to go through no less than 3-4 revisions, and most likely are going to rewrite about 10 times—and that’s no exaggeration.
6. …like a record, baby…
You’re going to go through editing again. Focus now on tightening, because at this point, you should’ve fixed the major structural inadequacies of your plot. Worry about removing excess words, making scenes more descriptive, improving dialogue.
7. Mirror, mirror, on the wall!
Worry now about polishing your manuscript. Go through and make sure that sentences are reflecting what you want them to reflect. Make sure your writing is a mirror that reflects what your mind’s eyes see.
8. Beta me this.
Send it to workshop buddies, writing buddies, and friends/family members. Have others critique. Make sure you find people who can be both nice but harsh; they won’t sugarcoat their criticisms and tell you it’s all fine, but they won’t be cruel to you and bring you down. Find as many beta readers as you can—the more the better. Yes, too many chefs spoil the plot, but if a bunch of people are saying the same thing, you can be assured that they’re probably right.
9. Waterproof it.
Give your manuscript one more look-through. Make sure everything’s as tight as possible.
10. Find an agent or publisher!
Between the editing steps, you should let your manuscript sit, for at least a few weeks, if not a few months. Rushing through the steps will get you nothing except an manuscript that stays rough.
*Note: This article was originally published on January 13, 2016.
“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”—Anton Chekhov
Descriptions make or break writing. There’s nothing worse than reading a book, and being pulled out of the story by a bland description that seems more passive than active.
One word of advice that I’ve seen multiple times, and have experienced both as a reader and as a writer: the best writing is not about action or character development; it’s about how you are able to make music sing from the words that you write.
Don’t tell me that the violinist played a superb piece; show me how she made the audience cry and find goosebumps on their arms listening to her play.
*Note: This article was originally published on January 17, 2016.
There’s nothing akin to the agony of editing your book. This suffering goes beyond the whole “kill your darlings” because, at least for me, I’ll gladly kill my darlings if it means saving my book.
No, the agony for me is the one thousand and one revisions my book has to go through. I already did one revision, which was a sweep of the book, pulling out scenes and sentences, and adding new ones if I saw fit. It was more of a holistic approach, which I completed in a week.
However, the next two weeks are going to be me focusing on dun dun dun: setting. The setting that I apparently failed to convey when I wrote my first draft. The setting that I’m going to have to describe beautifully if I want my book to work. The setting that I’m not sure how to describe.
However, to keep sane I think the best approach I can take to my editing is to do a number of revisions, each time focusing on one aspect:
Revision 1: Holistic: Go through the book, reacquaint yourself with the details and the scenes, and try pulling out what doesn’t work. Gut your work. Kill your darlings, or if that’s too gory a thought for you, lay your darlings to rest in a beautiful silk-lined casket and set them out to sea. Focus on sentence structure, grammar, punctuation, so that when you move on to other revisions, you aren’t distracted by those sorts of things.
Gut your work
Revision 2: Setting: Weave the senses into your book. Don’t overdo it, but make your reader feel, with all their senses, your scenes. Focus more on adding in sound, sight, temperature, touch, color, tactile experiences, wetness, dryness, humidity, solidness, softness, dampness, harshness, anything that brings your world to life. Describe something as being chestnut-colored instead of brown. Describe the sound as tinkling instead of light and airy. Describe the feel of the cliff under her hands as she climbed it, instead of saying only that she grunted. Make the setting active, interacting with the characters, or having the characters interact with it. Don’t just have the setting be a backdrop that is barely noticeable. Bring out the life of your setting. View your setting as its own character, and I think you will do well.
View your setting as its own character
Revision 3: Focus on the emotions of your character. Now that you have the setting down, make sure your character responds to it. Your character’s setting should challenge them, interact with them, push them, reward them, punish them, twist them around and make them dizzy. Make your character a part of the setting, and make the setting a part of your character. Have your characters and their setting hold hands. Focus on events: how do your characters behave? Do they only react? They should do more than just react to events; they should create events, change events. Emotions fuel your character. Emotions and actions are your character. Your character is nothing without emotion, unless your character is all about not having emotions.
Have your characters and their setting hold hands.
Your character is nothing without emotion, unless your character is all about not having emotions.
Revision 4: Focus on plotholes. Are there any? Does everything make sense chronologically, assuming time works in your book as it does in our world. Is your plot fluid? Your plot should not only make sense, it should be interesting, have twists, and bewitch a reader.
Your plot should not only make sense, it should be interesting, have twists, and bewitch a reader.
Revision 5: World-recreation. Make sure your world fits in with your setting, and that everything is interactive. You could probably do this during the setting revision, but it should be its own focus at some point. Is your world a sprawling expanse, or s single room in a lonely house? Either way, make sure that your world is interesting for both your characters and your readers. Interesting doesn’t have to mean unique or out-of-this-world. It could be boring, really, in the sense that you character is bored by their world. Regardless, make your world alive for your readers and interactive with them. Your world should be a reflection of your characters’ behaviors. That is, your world should not be separate from your characters, but a part of their feelings and actions.
Your world should be a reflection of your characters’ behaviors.
Revision 6: Be a seamstress. Bring all the pieces together. Do another holistic revision. Do all the pieces fit together? Have you woven your strands with golden thread? If not, it’s back to step 2.
Revision 7: Let it sit. I think letting go of your story, even if only for a few weeks, is a revision in and of itself. By letting it sit, and moving on to something else to clear your mind, you’re letting your brain distance itself from the details so that when you come back to your story, you can look at it with fresh eyes and from a big-picture perspective.
Let it sit.
Revision 8: Read through your book, and holistically attend to all those previous steps mentioned. It’s holistic in a way you haven’t done before, even in step 6. This time, you’ve spent time away from your MS and can focus on the bigger picture and the general themes of your story, your characters, setting, and everything else you should have already attend to, but can now do with fresh eyes and mind. Give your book one more holistic revision, and focus on the big picture. Remember that revision is re-envisioning.
Remember that revision is re-envisioning.
*Note: This article was originally published on January 19, 2016.
**Header image courtesy of Google images.