Getting It Write

I know, I know…it’s a terrible pun; but sometimes you need to throw down your corny ideas to get those juices flowing. When I teach kids to write, I insist they write down all their stupid ideas because, as often as not, the good ideas are lurking behind them.

So, there you are, with a whole lot of not-quite-perfect ideas scrambled across your page. This is the step that many novice writers hate and most experienced writers cherish – the rewrite.

A lot of people talk about the editing process, but it is actually two separate steps – revision and editing. Other people can edit for you, but only you can revise.

Revision starts with looking at your work as a whole – the pace of action, the cliffhangers at the end of a chapter, the development of characters, the voices – all the myriad bits of ideas that weave into a good story or article. It is the process where you pull at it, like a seamstress looking for loose seams, and then stitch it back together so that it is more colorful, more vibrant and more memorable.

Pacing is critical. In articles I’ve written, I make sure the pacing is served by a variety of paragraph lengths and quotes. In book-length fiction manuscripts, I create tables, lists and plot lines of what happens when, as well as how often there is tension or a pause for reflection. If the spacing is unwieldy, I cut or stretch out. Sometimes a poorly developed character is indicated when there are few pauses for reflection; sometimes, when there’s too much thoughtful information, it might be a situation that my daughter, Heather, once described as “Really good, for something that’s that boring.”

Think about the structure you want. For example, will it serve your writing to have everything evenly paced, or will you create your movement with planned unevenness? I like my chapters about the same length. Some writers always make the chapters uneven to create tension. Either is fine, but it’s best to make it a decision rather than an accident.

When you are asked to offer a critique for someone else, be sure to note those parts that intrigued, delighted or pleased you. When we are up to our necks in the struggle, it helps to know what was done well (so we can do more of it) as well as what needs work. Often, rather than making a negative judgment, it is more helpful to simply ask a question. That avoids unpleasantness and gets the author thinking about where the clarity lapsed.

The very last stage is the edit. This is the tidy-up for spelling, grammar and those awkward sentences. Take the time to do it well. Editors are busy people who are devoted to language. You can really irritate an editor with poor spelling, punctuation or grammar.

As one editor said, thrusting an error-ridden, written-over manuscript at me, “Don’t they want to get published?”

Good writers don’t write, they rewrite. Go forth and do likewise.

f & f
Susan

The Perfect Pitch: How to Write a Query Letter

Short of seeing your name in print for the first time, there are few things more satisfying than having a completed manuscript or a well-conceived proposal ready to take to the marketplace. But before you send it off, you must learn to write what many writing coaches will tell you is "the most important letter of your career".

It's called a query letter. A one-shot, one-page opportunity to grab an editor's attention and convince them that you, and your work, are worth looking at. If that sounds scary, it's meant to; without an invitation to submit, you won't get very far in this business.

First up, do your research.

Make sure you are sending your query letter to the appropriate editor; that the magazine and/or publishing house you’re approaching is the right one for you; and, that your market information is up-to-date.

And know your story, or the one you want to tell, inside-out and backwards; be able to describe it in one or two paragraphs; and if it's non-fiction, point out why you are the best person for the job, what angle makes your take a fresh one, list any artwork or photographic material you intend to provide, and identify any experts you intend to interview.

Then write your first draft. Try using three paragraphs: one for you, one for your story or proposal and one for why acme publishing is the perfect house and/or magazine for your work. And close with something along the lines of: "In the meantime, I'll be working ahead on my next novel..."

By the way, if you've already met the editor you're addressing at a conference or a workshop, make sure you mention it. If you have an "in" with the publisher, such as a long lost relative in the shipping department, mention that, too. Failing which, find an angle which makes you and what you have to offer unique.

Case in point: I once had a student with a marketable manuscript who was absolutely convinced that no one would ever look at her stuff. She had no writing experience, no publishing history, and no connections. But she did have a PhD in Microbiology, a penchant for pigs in tights, and an adoring audience of preschoolers. Now I don't know about you, but that combination alone would pique my curiosity. As long as the letter was well-written.

Be brief, be professional and make sure you:

* include your name, address, telephone, fax and email address;

* direct your letter to the appropriate agent or editor;

* keep it to one page, block paragraphs, no indentations, single-spaced within the body of the text, double-spaced between paragraphs, one-inch margins all round,

* and also include an SASE (self-addressed, stamped envelope).

A cover letter, by the way, is not the same as a query letter. It is as its name implies, a "cover" letter, sent in response to an editor's request to see more, if not all, of your work. Use it as an opportunity to remind the editor who you are and what your project is but keep it short and sweet.

As Susan mentioned in a recent blog, do keep track of who you send what to and when. And, if you feel it necessary, find a way to remind them of your existence. I had written a query letter to a major publisher and received a request to submit a synopsis and the first three chapters of my book. Which I did. I was also keen to establish a relationship and keep the process moving so I followed up with another letter about six weeks later.

Here's my opening paragraph:

"While I realize it’s a bit soon for a response to the first three chapters of Remember This, I thought I should let you know (were you to request the complete manuscript) that I’ll be in the U.K. until early April, visiting family and walking in the footsteps of my latest main character, thirty-year-old silver expert Gillian Maxwell."

I went on to "pitch" my story in the second and third paragraphs with a reference back to the book currently under review. I didn't sell that original submission but this second letter prompted another reply and another request. Now all I have to do is finish the manuscript. And when I do send it in, I'll be able to refer back to the editor who asked me to submit those three chapters.

In the meantime, I'm heading back to England.

f & f Anne

The Art of Collaboration: Part II

When Susan and I first started our collaborative career, we were happily working "on spec" believing that, like thousands of others before us, "if we could just sell that one book, we would die happy".

Let's just say it's a good thing we've always tempered our dreams with pragmatism because that die-happy thing? It's a crock. You just want more.

So begin as you mean to go on. Keep track of every related expenditure; hold onto your receipts, and be careful to note who paid for what so that when you do start making money, you'll be able to reimburse yourselves accordingly.

After all, writing is a business. And when you have a partner, no matter how close you are or how well you get on, nothing will do you in faster than a squabble over money. Talk to your partner about how you're going to finance your work, share in its ownership and divide the spoils. While it is important to look after your joint interests, don't forget to safeguard your own. And put it in writing.

Partnership agreements needn't be complicated, but they do need to "stand up in court". Check what is relevant for the jurisdiction in which you live, work together to outline what you want on the page, and don't scrimp! If you need legal advice, get it, because you never know where your careers are going to take you.

Another Susan and Anne story: somewhere along the way, we decided we would adapt The Mad Hacker and enter the film business. We formed a company; we set up shop in Toronto, and then we got down to work. Writing the script turned out to be the easy part; navigating the business side without losing our way was far more challenging. We had to "take" meetings, "pitch" our story, and hang on for dear life in an industry where people try to wrest control of your project, your characters, and your rights.

It was a whole new ballgame. So we rehearsed. We coordinated our wardrobes. We decided who would speak to the business side, who would speak to the creative, and where we were prepared to give ground as a means to get what we really wanted. And we got a good lawyer, one who specialized in the entertainment business. In the end, we needn't have worried quite so much about licensing agreements; the Amber & Elliot lunch boxes and line of pre-teen clothing have yet to materialize!

We did, however, have the most excellent adventure imaginable!

Collaboration isn't for everyone; in fact, it's hard work. But no one, and I do mean no one, will ever share your successes, or indeed your failures, with as much joy or as much angst as someone who has a fifty-percent stake in whatever it is you do.


f & f Anne

The Art of Collaboration – Ubi Style

It started in first year; an unfortunate little incident with an Anthropology professor who thought we'd "over-collaborated" on a take-home exam, even though we were allowed to share our research notes and work in groups of two to four students.

The poor man. We marched up to his office, actually I think I marched and Susan followed muttering something along the lines of: "Are you sure this is a good idea?" It wasn't, but I was nineteen-years-old and so full of icy indignation, it didn't matter. Lucky for me, Susan had honed her soft sell into rapier-sharp perfection. We walked out of that office forty minutes later with a B+. And the rest is, as they say, history.

If you've been following The Pragmatic Writer, you already know that ours is a long-distance collaboration. We haven't lived in the same city, let alone the same country, since the day we graduated but we have, over the years, developed a writing method that works for us.

Here's the skinny:

We get together, usually on the phone, to discuss what we're going to do, which one of us is going to write what, and when we're going to deliver. Once that's done, we establish deadlines which allow for our other commitments, and then we meet those deadlines!

In the case of The Mad Hacker, it was one chapter at a time organized along these lines:

Partner A writes the first draft and sends it along to Partner B. B gives it a read, does a line edit and perhaps makes a few minor revisions before sending it back to A, adding any additional comments in the margins. While A takes it through another draft, B works ahead on chapter two, and the whole process is repeated until the manuscript is finished.

The same holds true for any magazine articles we write, although one of us usually takes the "point position" and then we send drafts back and forth until we're satisfied with the final product. Scriptwriting is slightly different again. Susan is better at setting the scene while dialogue seems to be my forte, so we play to our strengths and the end result is a stronger script than we might otherwise have had.

Query letters and pitch documents are polished until they shine and, as with everything we write, carry both our signatures. We even take turns listing our names in reverse order from one document to the next.

And should only one of us be available to take a call or attend a meeting, the pronoun we use is "we". "Susan and I would like to...." or "We think we can deliver the next draft..." has become as instinctive as breathing.

On that note, I'm going to ship this draft off to Susan who will, of course, add her two-cents' worth!

Watch this space for further details on the "art of collaboration".

f & f Anne