So where's ubiquitous?
or
How to maintain the balance of power in a collaboration


written by Anne Stephenson
(rewritten by Susan Brown;
re-edited by Anne Stephenson;
final revision by Susan Brown;
last call to the editor by Anne Stephenson.)

NOT LONG AGO, my partner Susan Brown and I gave a seminar about collaboration to a group of aspiring writers. We called it "Making Collaboration Work." A piece of cake. One way or another, we'd been collaborating since we were room-mates at Carleton University fifteen years earlier. But this was formal. We divided the research and organization, typed the same number of handouts, planned the presentation so that we got equal time, and split the fee.

It was great. Our audience was responsive – they laughed at all the right spots, asked questions we could answer, and clapped enthusiastically at the end.

Why? Thorough research, of course – but the real learning experience came from watching the finely turned dynamics of a working collaboration. We took pot shots at each other the entire time.

When Susan discussed compatible work habits, she called me a neat-freak. The crowd tittered. I countered by pleasantly suggesting she use coasters for her coffee cups instead of our manuscript. She lounged against the wall and assumed an air of long-suffering. The audience lapped it up.

When I pointed out how important it is for each partner to receive a copy of any correspondence with agent or publisher, Susan, who forgets to mail everything that isn't addressed to an editor, had the grace to blush.

She got me on deadlines. In collaboration deadlines are, of course, sacred. I get writer's block; the words don't flow; my muse is off playing squash. Susan gets on the phone claiming she needs Chapter Five, so she can get on with Chapter Six. I blame my mother-in-law. It's amazing how often she drops in on me unexpectedly. All the way from Winnipeg.

We went on to discuss how writers often have favorite phrases that grow like toadstools throughout their copy. I commented that Susan's characters "exchange glances" so often they get cross-eyed. My partner then "looked at me pointedly" and told the group how important it is to edit each other's work with kid gloves.

Writers have such fragile egos.

WE TRUNDLED through the legal jungle of what can happen to whom when one makes promises unbeknownst to the other. Susan used several examples of possible scenarios. In every one, I made wildly improbable promises to publishers, was killed in car crashes, skipped the country with hard-earned advances, or combinations of all three. She finished with a sweet smile and a somber warning that you must know and trust your collaborator or be left holding the bag.

I'm a reasonable person. It was only in the interest of education that I told them the truth about ubiquitous.

Once the project is finished, I explained, one partner has to do the clean copy and mail it. This is the position of power. In our case, it's Susan. She nodded modestly. Her computer and printer, I went on, are more sophisticated than mine, so she enters the final draft, prints it, and mails it to the publisher.

And that's where I lost ubiquitous. Ubiquitous is one of my favorite words. It has tone, it has class; Susan can't spell it without a dictionary. I had used it to describe Miss Belcher, the teacher who lurks around every corner in our juvenile mystery, The Mad Hacker. Throughout the entire writing and editing process, I had warded off Susan's attempts to cut that word.

After mailing the original to the publisher, she sent me my copy of the manuscript. I was impressed. It was beautiful – no typos, no coffee stains, no ubiquitous.

The audience loved it.

They didn't, however, hear the last word on ubiquitous. After the conference, Susan and I went our separate ways home. My route passed the publisher's office, so I decided to stop for a chat. Susan's computer, I explained to our editor, had inexplicably left out a word. Could she please insert "ubiquitous" on page five?

Ah, the balancing of power....

(Postscript: The advance copies of The Mad Hacker arrived today. The editor blue-pencilled ubiquitous.)

The above article was our first "official" collaborative piece, published in the 1988 Summer issue of Canadian Author & Bookman.

f & f Anne & Susan

The Best Titles...

Like cover art, or a quick scan through the television listings, a title can attract or repel; it can also, in as little as one word or two, tell you what the story's about. Think "Castaway" or "Dante's Inferno", "ER" or "In Cold Blood". Or even this blog...

When Susan and I first decided to adapt The Mad Hacker for television, we realized we would have to come up with a name that was perhaps a little less indicative of an axe murderer and more in keeping with a pair of adventurous twelve-year-old school girls.

Amber Mitchell and Liz Elliot had been best friends forever and were, shall we say, chips off their creators' blocks....

The plotline centred around the sabotage of their grade-eight computer projects. Rather progressive, we thought (and still do) given that we wrote the first draft of The Mad Hacker in 1985, using typewriters. Neither of us actually owned personal computers at the time. Our kids were in primary school; they had the access and we had the story.

Several years later...The Mad Hacker had sold over 75,000 copies in book form in Canada, New Zealand and Australia, Something's Fishy at Ash Lake, our second book featuring the girls and their friends at Ash Grove Junior High, had by then been sold to Scholastic Canada, and negotiations were underway with a Toronto production company.

We decided it was time to "rebrand" the series. Scholastic had billed the first two books as Ash Grove Junior High Mysteries but we wanted something new and a little less cumbersome. So we culled our collective memories as well as the current TV pages, listing show titles that worked, especially mysteries, right back to the early days of television.

Nine times out of 10, the most successful shows had titles which were either situation- specific or simply used the main character, or characters' names, to sell the show.

Our characters weren't that well-known but they were memorable, especially when they played off each other like that other famous pair of detectives: Dr. Watson and Sherlock Holmes. After all, Amber had been heard to address Liz as "my dear Elliot" more than once in both books.

So, Amber & Elliot it became.

We liked the cadence. We liked the way Liz's surname gave the team more weight. But most of all we liked the fact that it didn't sound, as "Amber and Liz" would have, like two little girls going to a birthday party.

Amber & Elliot didn't make it to the big time but we felt like we did – if only for a short time. And, among many lessons learned, we came to appreciate just how important titles can be whether it's art, music or literature.

Or, even a blog.

f & f, Anne

Show No Fear

How many times have you heard Hollywood use that line? It's like a magic talisman used for defeating bad guys, aliens and hostile adults.

Which is why Show No Fear has been replaying in my mind for months now. I have my graphs, charts, synopses and query letters ready to go. They are arranged neatly on the counter waiting, not to gather dust, but to be sent off to their future homes at publishers and book stores. But they are a little like the orphans in a lot of cheesy movies – they have watched other kids find a home, but the prospective parents always pass them by despite their best smile and the viewer knowledge that this one, this one, is the true gem. If only...

This, dear readers, is the real crunch for a writer, the difference between the person who is going to write “some day” and the writer who is fighting to be published. The completely schizophrenic certainty that the manuscript is the best ever written and obviously second-rate can get the most confident writer tied into knots of delays and indecision. To my mind, challenging a dream by sending it out into the world takes courage. Despite the assertion that it isn’t the writer’s worth being judged, but only that of the work, the real writer knows that a piece of her soul has been interwoven with those black letters on the white page. Who in her right mind would risk that level of destruction?

A writer will risk that. The silent courage to create in solitude is transformed into the determined courage needed to take on the world. How magical is that?

One life. One dream. Show all the fear you want – just go for it.


f & f
Susan

My Aide-Memoire...

When I was little, my favourite picture book was "Out of My Window". Each verse began..."Out of my window, I can see..." and went on to list such domestic staples as the milkman, the postman, the little boy on his way to school, the baby on its mother's knee ending with, in typical fifties-fashion, "my Daddy coming home to me".

I loved that book, picket fence and all. It's still on my bookshelf alongside my mother's Bobbsey Twins, my Buster Brown piggy bank and Funny Bunny, a pop-up book full of cuddly creatures and cottontails. Anthropomorphism aside, it was "Out of My Window" which taught me I could bring the outside world in.

Several decades on, I use a small bulletin board instead of a picture book to jump start my imagination. It sits on a desktop easel just behind and slightly to the left of my computer screen and displays, in no particular order, the following items:

An "oilette" postcard from 1904 depicting London's Ludgate Hill. Pedestrians gingerly share the street with horse-drawn vehicles, motor cars and omnibuses; a steam engine roars across the Ludgate bridge and the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral looms in the distance. On the reverse is a half-penny stamp, postmarked London. The card is addressed to a Miss Brooks on the Woodhouse Road in Mansfield, Nottinghamshire. The script is bold and loops to the right, but there is no message. I wonder what it means.

Also on display are a 14ct, gold-filled pocket watch circa 1908, and a brass watch chain and fob from roughly the same era. I have no idea who in the family once owned the fob and chain or how they came to be mine, but they dominate the centre of my bulletin board, the chain held by three pushpins to simulate how it would hang on a gentleman's waistcoat.

Tucked in the corners are photographs from last month's trip to the U.K. including a picture of me and Heather, Susan's daughter, taken on a beautiful day in Hyde Park after a morning's research; a long shot of Oxford Street West with its eclectic mix of tiny shops and grand department stores; there's a small map of the Paddington and Bayswater area where a large part of the action takes place, and a "paper" hallmark I made at the Victoria & Albert Museum.

But perhaps my most tantalizing piece rests on the edge of the easel. It's a silver vesta (matchstick) case which I bought at a local auction last winter. It's marked with the Birmingham anchor and the lion passant, and its letter code dates it as 1915. The case was made by C. E. Turner, a firm working in Birmingham in the first half of the 20th century. And, it's engraved: From Mac to Frank, London, 1917.

An inscription which teases my imagination daily...

I won't go into all the post-it notes and other aide-memoire which clutter an otherwise carefully-ordered arrangement, but there is this one piece...

It's my horoscope from last year which says, if I don't make my mark over the next 12 months, it's because I'm "not breathing". That's the good news; the bad news is there's only fifty-two weeks in a year. My birthday's in three. But I am an optimistic Scorpio – and, if all else fails, I'll still be two months younger than Susan.

We are each other's aide-memoire.

f & f Anne

On Location – Not

It’s pouring rain outside my Washington window and Anne is junketing around England researching her book. She’s there. I’m here and probably will be for the foreseeable future. A person could get seriously bitter!

However, I have my own travel secret – I am a daydreaming junkie. If not, I never would have become a writer. I can go to all those exotic (and today, warm) locations in my mind – all without the expense and hassle of those airlines, fuel surcharges and security checks. And I’m not about to deprive readers of that pleasure either.

My last three manuscripts are set in New Mexico, Alaska, the Far East, Australia, Mexico, Peru and Lebanon – locales that I had never been anywhere near when I wrote about them. As my imagination wandered, stories about dragons intermixed with humans grew into Dust Dragons with turquoise as the catalyst. New Mexico was the place to be. Ice Dragons required massive glacial ice caves – Alaska. Stone Song catapulted the hero into exploring mythic connections in different locales around the world. And it’s a big, exciting, curious world.

Here’s the rub. I was originally trained as a journalist and I’ve become a stickler for facts. So, do I forget my stories because I can’t go there? No chance.

My research is two pronged. Second hand book stores provide me with more guide books and maps than any human ought to have. The internet gives me the rest – not in articles but in ordinary traveler’s photos.

I don’t know how many vacation pictures I’ve scanned looking, not for smiling Bob and Janie standing in front of an anthill, but at the background – the landforms, plants, shadows, sky and colors. Professional photographers give an unrealistic picture of terrain. Perfect light, framed landscapes, and picturesque scenery do not give any sense of what it is like to walk that land, how the less than perfect plants bend and break under sleeting wind, or how heat will bring sheens of sweat to the reddening foreheads of the travelers. Travel snapshots aren’t chosen for perfect light, but for the excitement of that one moment in a person’s life – kind of like a book.

I’ve since traveled to New Mexico and Alaska (after all it’s research!) and I’ve found my armchair travel descriptions were absolutely accurate. I took my own backup photos to double check against my descriptions, and it worked.

So, if you can’t get on a plane, I highly recommend the magic of your own imagination – especially when you can back it up with the magic of technology.

Happy travel writing.

f & f
Susan

On Location

Two days from now, my husband and I are flying to England. We'll be in the U.K. for about a month, visiting friends and family in the Midlands before travelling back down to London where poor me; I get to walk in the footsteps of my main character for the better part of a week.

She's a bit of a demanding sort is thirty-one-year-old Libby Maxwell, but then research does require sacrifice as well as repeat visits to Selfridges, Oxford Circus and the Victoria & Albert Museum. Which is where, during a conversation with one of V&A's foremost silver experts, Libby inadvertently reveals a key piece of information which will propel her, and my storyline, into the past. There is a man, of course, but more on him another day.

I did a lot of preliminary work when we were last in London. But, now that I'm well into my first draft, I go back with a particular focus – to check out the locations I've used so far, and the ones I'm considering but have yet to visit. So spending a few hours in Hyde Park soaking up the atmosphere, taking the odd stroll through Bayswater, Paddington and Marylebone, and cruising the Portobello Market on a Saturday morning isn't time wasted; it's all about making what I hope will be a good book, better.

Given that eighty percent of the novel is set in 1909, this research business is a bit trickier than it sounds. Like Libby, I too must try and navigate the life of a working woman in another time, where she lived, what clothes she wore, and what route she took to work each day. Lucky for me, this is London and, yes, the tour guides are right -- history can be found around every corner. I go prepared. The camera is packed alongside my walking shoes, a pocket recorder and a comprehensive to-do list so that when I return home I'll have what I need to evoke that all-important sense of place.

More than mere setting, richer than mere description, the location in which your characters live and breathe gives their story, and subsequently yours, the veracity it needs to draw the reader into the world which you've created. Make a mistake, however small, and readers will notice.

In her 1998 autobiography, Time to be in Earnest, P.D. James refers to a gaffe she made in A Taste for Death. She "sent" a traumatized woman, who had discovered a corpse in the vestry of a London church, off to Nottingham to recuperate. Unfortunately, she chose to have Miss Wharton travel from King's Cross instead of St. Pancras, a much more direct, and shorter, route. A very small oversight from my point-of-view (only two readers wrote to Miss James), but then I'm not a Londoner.

And that's another challenge I've tried to overcome by making Libby a Canadian; she's from Toronto, where I grew up and frequently visit, and I gave her a backstory that reflects my own – British grandparents, an interest in antiques and a fascination with the Edwardian era. It might be a lot easier these days to go online and search out all kinds of obscure information, but nothing quite does it like being "on location".

And if this sounds like a well-honed pitch for yet another trip to London, it is; my secret plan is to turn this novel into a trilogy. Two or three trips per book should just about cover it because you must sniff the air and make sure your daffodils bloom at the right time of the year, and that perfect shirtwaist blouse you want your main character to wear? You'd better get it right – or at least, get it on sale.

Ah, the ongoing travails of a working writer.

f & f Anne

Long Division with Remainders

When I was in 5th grade, Mr. Dilworth used to dump my desk on the floor at least once a week – paper, notes, pencils and books heaped at my feet. I didn’t organize my desk the way he thought I should, and this was his way of making me toe his line. Well, it didn’t work. Aside from scaring the bejeezus out of me, his methods confused me and I lost things. The moral of this story is that everyone needs to organize the way it works for her. Anne and I are polar opposites when it comes to working styles, but we both have structures that allow us to manage our writing.

Anne is a master of structure and organization. She writes outlines to die for, researches thoroughly, and organizes her notes before she writes. Her house always looks good too.

I am more of a nester, happily building my piles of notes and drafts until they surround me with a comfortable quilt of ideas and paper. Aaahhh. Everything right there where I can see it and put my fingers on it. A few coffee stains are simply the seasoning for fine ideas. And my house…well, it’s better since the kids grew up.

But style should not be confused with sloppy organization. Anne and I both spend serious time ensuring our prep work and the structure of the story keep things moving. There are two parts to that – the internal plan of the work which is mostly evident when it falters (Anne discussed this quite elegantly) and the external handling of large files that contain a myriad of ideas and scenes. When that falls apart, scenes are lost and rewrites vanish. It’s an ugly place to be – I know because it has happened to me, once when notes were lost and again when a computer crashed. It felt like Mr. Dilworth had gotten into my cyberspace!

As a result, I have built a straight-forward system for managing my files which protects me from the vagaries of space, time and déja vu.

First, I like color coding and compartmentalizing. I buy colored file folders and I sort my hand-written and printed notes according to subject with specific colors for each topic. For example, landscape plays a large part in my writing, so research on flora and fauna goes into (surprise!) a green folder. My new computer allows me to color code files on my desktop, so those are also coordinated. Books are tagged with color-coded post-it notes. I will have literally hundreds of articles and snippets of research before I am finished a manuscript, so this at-a-glance system is critical.

And where to put the files when they are not actually in use? The all-over-the-floor storage worked for me until I produced children and acquired affectionate dogs with muddy feet. I bought a clear plastic file box that sits beside my desk and holds the files for the project-in-progress. A second tub lives under the printer table with the projects that are in waiting. Completed work goes into a traditional filing cabinet. The kids are grown up, but the dogs still have muddy feet, so the system stays.

My outlines are mostly a few pages of scribbles and then I write. This means I also rewrite a lot. Sometimes the next great idea isn’t so great after all, so I want the old version. To keep my drafts accessible, I copy files and rename them numerically or by date, saving every version and working ahead on the latest document until I want to try yet another direction or idea. Usually I end up with between 15 and 25 saved drafts for any one book. I print about every fifty pages or so, only reprinting anything that is radically new. Documents are saved every few days on a flash drive or disk, and emailed to a separate account where they reside in cyberspace.

As I write, my characters and story lines become more complex. No matter how absorbed I am in this alternate reality, I can’t remember all the bits and pieces. So, I create tables and charts either on my computer or across large sheets of paper that are pinned to my bulletin boards. Everything at a glance.

And organizing this stuff doesn’t even have anything to do with the story! But it builds the bridge between the wandering dream and physical world. Only the one who creates the bridge knows what went into the supports that hold it up.

f & f
Susan

Long Division

For some reason, which I'm sure was brilliant at the time; I decided not to divide the first draft of my historical novel into chapters. I would simply write, I thought, and worry about it later.

Well, it's later now. And I have one honking big file; 30,000 words and counting, chockfull of white spaces, post-it notes, and hand-written reminders; all clamouring for attention and a place of their own.

What's that expression "all great plans..."?

When I wrote juvenile mysteries, published length roughly 132 pages, I would hang my story on a twelve-chapter grid. Each chapter was within a page length of the other and ended with a setup for the next. Maybe two or three scenes per chapter, limited point-of-view – I was writing for eight to 12-year-olds -- and it felt very comfortable. Four months' planning, five months writing, nine months later, you've got a book.

Not so easy writing for the grownups. The plot is far more complex than anything I've ever written before, there are multiple subplots, secondary characters who insist on hogging centre stage, and my timeline is, shall we say, somewhat complicated.

But before I go into panic mode and start divvying everything up into chapters, I'm going to apply a few lessons learned from my grade-thirteen math teacher. Mr. Schofield was calm, he was logical, and he taught us how to analyze a problem and break it down into manageable parts.

That honking big file of mine is about to become five.

Part I will include the prologue and everything leading up to the end of Act I which is where my first turning-point occurs. (A turning point is usually described as that point in the story where the character makes a decision from which there is no "turning" back.)

Act II will begin with Part II and carry on through Parts III and IV and end with the final turning point in our story. By now I should have wrapped up my subplots, and be heading for the resolution of my main storyline. Part V will incorporate all of Act III which, in my case, includes an epilogue.

Nothing fancy but, if all goes according to plan, my five-part structure should see me through this draft and into the next which will, of course, include chapters.

My creative writing teacher might not approve, but Mr. Schofield would be proud. And that's good enough for me.

f & f Anne

To Market, To Market…

I love to write but I hate marketing. I’ve read all the books and articles and from the professional attitude to networking, I do know the steps. At least in theory. In the last four or five years, I’ve been stymied by an agent who is a great guy but doesn’t do much for me. So why haven’t I moved on? A combination of being really busy and having icy cold feet.

So there I was, two completed manuscripts gathering dust and only a vague hope that the said agent was sending them out to editors.

One thing I did right over the years was to produce great children, one of whom actually works in the publishing industry in England. During her last visit, aside from the prerequisite rolled eyes, she took her floundering mother in hand. First she made me dig out all my letters that I had received from editors over the last two or three years. I remembered the “Thanks, but no thanks” part. She pointed out in a very businesslike fashion that these were mostly personal letters.

“Do you know how rare it is for an editor to send a personal letter?” she demanded in justified exasperation. Having been in charge of several mountainous slush piles, she knew first hand how very, very few submissions get to the editors.

I mumbled something about, “Of course, I know…”

And I do…in theory. But I remembered the rejections, not the all important positive comments and requests for other manuscripts. So much for being businesslike.

Next she took these letters plus my mostly complete records of what had gone to who. She made a spreadsheet with the editors’ names, dates, what had been submitted and who had asked to see more of my work. Despite a rather hit and miss attitude of late, there were an impressive number of them – now all cleanly organized.

Finally, I started moving, and with her encouragement did an internet search for the editors listed, in an effort to find out where they were and what they were buying. One editor who had been very encouraging had joined a literary agency. She wasn’t taking new clients but she was friendly. I found some websites, including Publishers Lunch, that give daily newsbites about the publishing industry, including promotions and new hires. From this and other sources, I’ve started another spreadsheet recording who is working where and what they are buying in the genres I write for. From this, I am developing a coherent plan of where to market my work and possibly search for another agent.

I still have those icy cold feet, but at least they are moving forward.

So, if you don’t have a daughter to get you started, feel free to borrow mine – or at least the steps she helped me take. They work.

f & f
Susan

How to stall like a pro...

This was the morning I was to print out a partial first draft of my historical novel. I'm 25,000 words in, and feeling good even though I know I need to cut at least 5,000 words before moving on. Some scenes start too late, others ramble, and I have one secondary character who is so strong, she needs to be cut down to size. So I've decided to make her a man; nothing sexist here, she simply plays better that way. My main characters are riffing off each other well and my convoluted plotline is, at long last, beginning to make sense. One tiny problem: I'm still missing one of the main threads in my storyline and, without it, I'm doomed.

So, why then am I writing this piece?

Roget's Pocket Thesaurus is quite clear on this point. I'm procrastinating in an effort to defer the inevitable.

In other words, I am putting off, deferring, delaying, laying over, suspending, staving off, retarding, postponing, adjourning, proroguing, procrastinating, dallying, prolonging, protracting, spinning out, drawing out, tabling, shelving, reserving, temporizing, stalling, etc.

It could even be said that I am engaged in a filibuster.

(And should you require further proof, I just looked prorogue up in the dictionary, another good stalling tactic mastered in high school, perfected in university. I would always begin my essays by defining, literally, the subject at hand. Took up at least seventy-five to a hundred words, thereby cutting down on the work required to meet the minimum word count, not to mention the added bonus of seeming to provide sound academic grounding for what I was about to say on any given subject.

Should you be wondering, prorogue does indeed mean to "defer or postpone".)

It's not that I'm lazy, in fact most writers are extremely hard-working people who do the job out of passion and, more often than not, without the promise of a paycheque. That alone is enough of an excuse to put the hard task off to another day.

Well, it is another day and I have read, and reread, those 25,000 words and they're not so bad. In fact, I'm quite pleased. My time away from the computer has helped me put things in perspective and I've been able to mull over a few of the aforementioned problems I already knew existed. Seeing what I have done "on the page" and knowing where I need to rewrite has given me a shot of enthusiasm. And a possible solution to my missing storyline.

So there you have it, a 441-word deferment (including headers, footers and salutations).

f & f, Anne

Making the case for cold calls...

Picking up the phone and calling someone you have never met before and perhaps has no idea who you are and what you want can be daunting, particularly if you're interviewing an expert in a field of which you know very little. Like agriculture or mining. Who knew, for example, that triticale was a cross between Durham wheat and rye or that kimberlitic pipes, those unique, carrot-shaped rock formations, could indicate a cache of diamonds thousands of feet below the surface!

I certainly didn't, but, for a few years, this was my life. I was a freelancer, working for a small communications firm in Ottawa. They had a contract to produce a monthly publication on research and development in Canada and I wrote the copy.

It was fascinating, once I grew more comfortable making those calls, and I came away from that job with a greater assurance, and an idea for a juvenile mystery involving an abandoned gold mine, an enterprising thirteen-year-old with a nose for crime, and one cranky old guy named Weirdo who refused to sell his shares.

Great concept, one small problem: I knew very little about reopening dormant mines other than the fact that, thanks to new technology and better processing methods, getting the gold out of the ground was now easier and more cost effective.

So I phoned a company I knew was in the process of acquiring an old mining concern. I'd done my homework; I knew they needed to control at least fifty-one percent of the shares before they could proceed, and I knew exactly who I wanted to speak with; what I didn't know was how complicated it would be to track down the original shareholders, many of whom would either be quite elderly or have already died.

Now here's the thing about cold calls. No matter how well prepared you are, or how well you know your subject; whether you're trying to interest someone in your work or simply looking for information, finding a personal connection really is worth its weight in gold.

Well didn't the chairman of the company I was calling, have a daughter who just happened to have lived in the building next to Susan and me at university. I wouldn't have known the woman if I fell over her, twenty years is a long time, but that didn't matter. My cold call just got a little warmer.

I got the information I needed, pitched my story idea to my publisher and two years later, the book was in print.

I called it Paper Treasure.

f & f, Anne

Write What You Want to Write

If you buy into the current thinking put forth by most writer's magazines, books, articles and blogs these days, you'll end up convinced that writing for the marketplace is the only way to go.

Maybe. Maybe not.

If your primary goal is to be published – and why not, we all want to see our work in print some day – then understanding what the market wants is solid advice. For publishing short non-fiction articles, it’s the only advice. Magazine and other periodical editors demand that the writer imitate the tone and subject matter of their particular publication.

On the other hand, if book-length fiction is your goal, then the market is just a bit more ephemeral. Editors are usually looking for a spin of the last great best seller. With budgets tight and book publishing company’s lists getting narrower and narrower, an editor can rarely afford to bring along a writer of great promise but potentially small sales. That seems to make writing for their market a no-brainer – but…

If you do not have the time or expertise to knock off a book in less than six months, or you do not have a direct conduit to a decision-making editor, your manuscript will drift for anywhere from that six months to more likely a couple of years before it falls under the editor’s eager eyes. If you wrote to leap on the bandwagon of a particular best seller, that book is old, old, ancient news. There has been time for several best sellers to take its place. Styles change quickly. Genres last a little longer, but they too have their ebbs and flows.

And then there’s the reason you started to write in the first place. Most of us write because we love a good story, we salivate over language, and we have the dream lurking in the back of our minds that we have something to say that will matter to someone else. So, don’t chase a pot of gold – write what you dream about, what you care about, what you have something to say about.

It may be the next best seller.

f & f
Susan

We have a running joke, Susan and I, that sees us sharing digs once again only, this time, instead of beer and cigarettes (that was me, I'm afraid, guilty on both counts), it'll be tea and cookies and incontinent supplies. And maybe a bottle of rum. Our biggest concern is that we won't remember where we stashed it!

However, in the meantime, (we figure we're good-to-go for a least another twenty or thirty years) here's what we intend to do:

1. Make money, lots of money...preferably by writing books that generate enough of an income for us to travel and retire in style.

2. Write books that people want to read.

3. But first, write the books that we want to write, not the ones we think we should.

4. Pat ourselves on the back (as we are wont to do!) for everything we have done; whether we make the money we'd like to have or not!

5. Revel in the writing process 'cause there's nothing finer than a well-chosen word or a well-writ phrase.

6. Celebrate in style when we do succeed.

7. Which means finding that perfect dress, one which hides life's bumps and bruises and shows us to be the grand dames we have become...of course, if we stick to the script, that would be red for Susan, black for me.

8. Take a nostalgia tour of all our old haunts and be able to eat and drink like we did in the old days without fear of not fitting in to the aforementioned perfect dresses.

9. Be thrilled with our accomplishments when it is time to put down our pens even though we said, way back in '92, that if we never did anything else, we would be happy anyway.

10. Remember each and every moment so we can relive them in conversation, laugh merrily at our own foibles and toast our successes.

Over and over again....

f & f Anne (& Susan)

In the interim...

If you're like me, knowing an editor requires a decent amount of time to review and respond to your submission has absolutely nothing to do with the number of times you check your mailbox -- or watch your washing machine go through its spin cycle!

It's a behaviour pattern I've never outgrown. But I have found a better way of coping; I now forge ahead with all those great ideas which threatened to hijack my last project. The laundry still gets done. I'm simply using my "spin" time more effectively by laying the groundwork for whatever's next.

For me, this preparation process has two major components: a detailed outline, often up to 30 pages long, which I do on the computer, and a series of random notes and character details which are handwritten (or scribbled as my husband would say) in a spiral-bound notebook with a black felt pen. I couldn't live without the former, but the latter does take me away from the pressure of the keyboard.

And, as my life often involves train travel these days, I enjoy the ease of writing longhand without that unending temptation, should I have my laptop with me, to check the news, or write and receive emails when I could be looking out the window, sipping on a coffee and letting my mind wander over the creative landscape while my eyes take in the one passing by my window.

But I digress. Which is exactly what happened last winter. I got so caught up in the research I was doing – I am delving into the Edwardian era with a particular interest in 1909 – that I literally forgot I was supposed to be writing a novel. So I switched tacks and checked out how other writers I admire, authors like Laurie R. King with her Mary Russell novels, and Diana Galbadon whose Outlander series kept me spellbound for weeks, strike a balance.

Both writers are extremely knowledgeable and their books well-researched but, as evidenced by their riveting storylines, they know how to stick to the script. In fact, I think I should take a leaf from Diana Galbadon's musings on research and remember that the books in my library are not required reading, they're for reference.

I've applied the same principle to the internet. I see a site I like, I add it to my list of favourites or print out a few pages, particularly if it's a newspaper article from the early 1900s, and then I put them in a – wait for it -- three-ring binder. I also use colour-coded folders for all those other articles I intend to write one day.

But when I do come across a piece of information which directly relates to my current project, I insert a note into the relevant section of my outline and move on. As the outline expands so too does my input; I begin to write snippets of dialogue, describe scenes in greater detail and enrich my character descriptions so that when I am ready to start on that all-important first draft, I can cut-and-paste to my heart's content.

Then again, I could always slip downstairs and put in another load of laundry.

f & f Anne

Here are the web links for the authors mentioned above:

www.laurierking.com
www.cco.caltech.edu/~gatti/galbadon/

Conferences – Playing to Win

Anne and I have been involved in every aspect of writers' conferences from Alaska to Seattle, from Toronto to Detroit. We’ve gone from being eager hopefuls with manuscripts clutched in our hands, to organizers trying to meet every need of every writer, and then as presenters who supposedly had the real answers about how to get published. Based on those experiences, here's what we've learned on how to reap the maximum benefit from any conference you attend.

First of all, decide what you want to accomplish. Are you looking for general advice on writing, the camaraderie of being in a room full of others who hope for the same things, or are you trying to make that vital connection to an editor or agent?

Before making the final selections, scour the conference schedule. Mark the presenters you think are most interesting to you and then do a little networking and on-line research. Does that children’s editor have the power to make decisions? Is she primarily interested in picture books or the middle-grade novels you write? Does the agent take on new clients, and have you ever heard of his existing clients? And that famous writer who is giving a keynote, does she write mysteries like you, or self-help books? All might be interesting, but they may not offer what you need to move ahead in your career.

One of the most titillating and frustrating aspects of a conference is the chance to meet an editor or agent. At some conferences, for an extra hundred dollars, you can get a sit-down, face-to-face, for ten or fifteen minutes. You have the opportunity to pitch your story, make a glowing first impression, and launch your career.

Or not. Often the editors and agents involved are tired, over exposed by the sheer number of people attending, or not seriously looking for anything less than the next mega-seller. You may want to clinch the deal, but take a deep breath – you might gain a lot more from asking them what they are looking for and permission to send them your work when they have a chance to look at it without the pressures of a conference. Sometimes the editors or agents have actually previewed a few pages beforehand (the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators Conferences often arrange this) and so you may even get a genuine critique. If the editor tells you what’s wrong with the manuscript, don’t ever, ever argue. Simply say, thank you – and ask if you can submit after your revisions.

After the conference, send a note to the editor or agent (or author if you have had personal contact) thanking them for their insights. Later, when you send on the manuscript – being sure to state in the first sentence of the cover letter that they had asked you to submit it – the editors or agents are more likely to remember your courtesy. Some people try to stand out by being flamboyant. My personal opinion is that you will stand out more by being scrupulously professional and by sending in a good product. After all, in the long run, only your work will make the sale.

f & f
Susan

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

Take 10

Here are 10 of our favorite rules to help you take what’s in your head, put it on the page, and get it to the market:

1. Find the time and space you need – write in the corners if you have to.
2. Be organized – time management will make or break you.
3. Stop sharpening your pencils – quit that stalling and get writing!
4. Make realistic deadlines and keep them – this is where belonging to a critique group is a real help.
5. Self-edit – learn to read your own work as objectively as possible.
6. Read! Read! Read! – anything, even the back of the cereal box!
7. Read the trades. They might not make sense at first, but over time you will garner a better understanding of how the market works.
8. Be professional – keep records and receipts, be aware of legalities, prepare for self-employed income.
9. Connect with other writers
10. Reward yourself – go for a walk, have a latte, go to a movie, read a book, keep balance in your life.
    
    Remember SMART goals: Specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, timely

f & f

Susan and Anne

Professional Writing Groups – Your Lifeline to Professional Contacts

If you are deeply into your craft, you know writing can be a lonely profession. Collaboration however, can be the key to improving your craft and beating the blues that too much isolation can cause to fester. Not everyone wants to work as closely as Anne and I do, but for many successful writers a critique group is the answer.

Anne mentioned in her last blog about joining a professional group. That is the way to go. When I joined Detroit Women Writers, I was catapulted into a group of working writers. The DWW members all had their sights set on publishing. Through the meetings and critique groups we shared successes, built a network of contacts, garnered current marketing information, and offered realistic support during the painful dry periods. When I moved to Seattle, I joined every professional group I could locate – joined, volunteered, and made professional contacts and friends.

So, find a group and join it!

If you are in a decent sized city, there will be professional groups (sometimes limiting their membership to published authors) and groups of people who are working hard to become published. I’ve found local librarians usually know where they are. And of course, there’s always the internet. National writers associations such as The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, Romance Writers, Mystery Writers, etc. have resources and contact lists available to their membership – often with a “Writers looking for a critique group” section. There are even on-line critique groups for those who are not near a meeting location.

Fast forward through time…you’ve found a group and manuscript in hand, you are all ready to go, find that secret to publishing, and soar into fame and fortune.

…Or maybe you’ve taken the initiative, posted your own “Writer looking for writer” ad and are about to host a group. Whether joining or starting one, there are some ground rules and danger signs that Anne and I have experienced.

First of all, a critique group’s sole purpose for existence must be to help everyone get happily published. If you somehow land in a coven that believes there is only so much “good” to go around, and they’re not going to waste it on you, run.

If the critiques are destructive, not constructive, run.

If everyone swallowed a bucket of honey and only gushes about how wonderful, heartfelt and fabulous everyone’s writing is, run (or at least jog).

Criticism does hurt because most writers pour their souls onto the page – but there is a difference in critiques. You’ll know the situation is harmful if you return home crushed, with no idea what to do next. If on the other hand, you face your computer depressed because the work wasn’t ready after all, but know how to start fixing it, you’re probably okay. Best of all, if you return energized because they got what you were trying to say and then gave you good ideas to make the work more marketable, you are in critique group heaven.

Bless the gods that watch out for you.


Guidelines for Getting to Critique Group Heaven:

Good critique groups don’t just happen. They take some planning and resolve (and maybe a little luck as well). If you are starting the group, use the first meeting to agree to the norms that will guide all future meetings. Possibilities include (but are not limited to):

• The starting time is the starting time
• or If you have a gregarious group, personal chitchat is limited to the first 15 or 30 minutes
• How many revisions of the same work is the group willing to hear?
• How long may each writer read?
• How will the order of readers be determined?
• Who will facilitate or lead the group? Time keepers? Who will be the contact person?
• What are the criteria for admitting new members?

Once those questions are settled (and a time to revisit them decided), the actual working structure needs to be put in place. Here are some suggestions that I have culled from successful professional groups:

The Writer:

• comes prepared with the work as far forward as possible – it is not good etiquette to waste colleague’s time with rough drafts.
• may ask for listeners to focus on a particular concern or give general feedback.
• reads the work aloud.
• does not explain either why the work isn’t very good or why it is much better than anything else anyone has ever written.
• gives no background information other than target audience unless it is to summarize what has previously happened in a longer piece (authors don’t get to go with their books to explain).
• may ask for clarification of critiques, but does not debate the merit of the critiques. If clarification is not needed, the only appropriate response is a simple “Thank you.”
• takes notes on all the comments, or if the listeners have written them, collects the comments for further consideration.
• is free to accept or reject any comments when revising.
  

The Listeners:

• listen for what the writer is trying to say – not what they would say if they had written it.
• offer specific praise for what is done well (saying “It’s wonderful” without saying exactly what impressed you is a waste of everyone’s time).
• ask questions to clarify what was unclear or seems not exactly right.
• offer specific suggestions that may help the piece.
  

If you have some ideas and experiences about groups you'd like to share, we'd love to hear from you.

f & f

Susan

How To Kick Start Your Writing Career

If you want to turn your passion for writing into a paying career, you can't spend all your time at the keyboard. You need to get out there and connect with other writers, editors and potential clients; you might not make a lot of money in the beginning but writing, like any other business, has a "who you know" component that's worth pursuing.

And before you say you don't know anybody or you've been out of the game for so long you've lost your contacts, consider the benefits of volunteering. It's a great way to kick start your career.

I know. I've been there.

When Susan and I received our advance for The Mad Hacker, it didn't take me long to realize that if I seriously intended to make my living as a fulltime writer, I had to look beyond book sales and fifty-percent of a six-percent royalty!

My first step was to join a local writers' group looking to host their first-ever conference. They weren't sure what they wanted but I'd just returned from Detroit where Susan and I had been guest presenters at the Detroit Women Writers' 25th annual conference. They graciously allowed us to use their format, and I ended up organizing the speakers, co-writing the brochure and generally doing whatever it took to make our event a success.

Did I make a lot of money? No. But my efforts paid off in spades when another board member offered me a short-term contract. The following year I was asked to co-convene the conference again, only this time the job came with a hefty honorarium. And another spin-off. The university we'd joined forces with to host the conference, asked me to submit a course proposal on writing for children. It was approved and I taught two nights a week through their continuing education program for several years.

While there's nothing new or earth-shattering about my story, it does illustrate what can happen when you approach every project in a professional manner regardless of how little, or how much, you make. People notice.

It's called selling yourself, even if it means working "on spec".

Something I'm still doing. And, having taken Susan's most recent blog entry to heart, I am trying hard to stick to my own deadlines; one day at a time.

f & f Anne

Setting Goals or the Zen of Time Management

The late Willo Davis Roberts, author of more than 100 books, once told me that “Writers have 24 hours in their day just like everyone else.”

Whether your life is crammed with jobs and family, or so unstructured that time seeps away like meltwater, there is only one secret to finishing that novel that every successful writer I know will swear by – setting goals.

Sounds simple, but there is an art to setting a goal. Big ideas (like winning the Pulitzer) are seductive, but they’re for daydream time, not the grind. I like the SMART goal criteria –Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic and Timely.

You want to write a book? Fine. When is it going to happen? No matter what you’ve heard, the muse is a whore who will desert you at the most inconvenient times. Exactly what are you going to do in each writing session, when are those sessions going to happen, and how will you know you have completed your goals?

Dana Stabenow, author of 20+ books including the Kate Shugak mysteries, told me she sits down in her chair at 9 a.m. every morning, and her writing day is not done until she has written five pages. If the muse has flitted in, Dana may be finished by 11 or 12. Or she might still be in her chair ten hours later. E-mail, by the way, is not even glanced at until the pages are done. With this system, she can write a novel every six months. Her sales and awards are measurable proof that her goal setting works.

My day job as a high school teacher and evening gig as a university lecturer means I don’t have the hours or stamina to write daily (I know that’s heresy – but I am studying to become a cliché atheist). Rather than by the day, I set my goals by the weekend and month. For example, right now I’m getting a manuscript ready to send out. I would really, really like to do it this week.

Hah!

My Christmas holiday goal was to research publishers. (Current market books from Amazon; on-line research into the latest books at each publishing house.) Done.

The weekend after that, I wrote my query letter template. Ready to go.

The following weekend, synopsis. Needs work, but it’s written.

This weekend, blog entry and synopsis revision. Almost finished the blog. Synopsis next.

Next weekend and the one after that, pull them together, write publisher specific queries. Make a data base of who I’m mailing to, with slots all ready for those enthusiastic replies. Start mailing by Feb. 28. Have more queries ready to go by March 31 so that when the rejections come in, I’m still psyched.

And there’s a new idea tickling the back of my mind. Begin writing that about the first of April.

I keep my dates in my head. They’re my mantra. Some people write them on bulletin boards or on-line calendars. Doesn’t matter. Make deadlines – lots of small, achievable deadlines. Keep them. Work with a writing partner (like I do with Anne) to give you someone to be accountable to. Review your progress monthly and adjust future deadlines to be realistic. Be SMART.

And put down some time to celebrate yourself for being a pro!

f & f
Susan

Writing 101

Now that we're up-and-running, Susan and I thought this would be a good time to let you know some of the topics The Pragmatic Writer will be addressing over the next few weeks.

First up, what it takes to turn a passion into a career. We can't all write the great American -- or Canadian -- novel but we can find ways to capitalize on our published works by getting out there, getting noticed and, most importantly, getting paid.

We want to talk about setting realistic goals and how to achieve them, how to find the time and the space every writer needs, and how to develop the additional skills that will make you and your writing more marketable.

Like successful editing, with tips on: how to assess and improve your own work; how to be a considerate editor when reviewing someone else's, and what you should look for when you're ready to give your work to an outside reader -- be it friend, relative, or a total stranger!

Learning how to play to your strength is a topic which has always intrigued us. Knowing where you excel and where you don't can enchance your personal performance and increase your chances of success. Especially in a collaboration.

Over the years Susan and I have discovered there's a lot more to a successful partnership than great writing and we'd like to share some of our experiences with you. After which, it's down to the nitty-gritty with our take on:

The Query Letter

The Pitch

The Synopsis

And a whole slew of other topics ranging from the difference between writing for children and writing for adults to creating memorable characters, realistic dialogue and how to develop a story your readers won't want to put down!

On that note, I had best get back to work.


f & f Anne

The Pragmatic Writer

Welcome!

The Pragmatic Writer is a blog dedicated to the working writer -- the folks who are seriously planning to have or are midstream in a publishing career. Your hosts are Anne Stephenson (Brzozowski) and Susan Brown. We have been writing individually and collaboratively since we were roommates in college. Together we have published two books -- The Mad Hacker and Something's Fishy at Ash Lake -- and written and co-produced a TV show for the Family Channel, The Amber and Elliot Mysteries. Individually, Anne has written Paper Treasure, The Mysterious Mr. Moon, a column for the Ottawa Citizen and several scripts for Canadian TV. Susan has published The Black Tunnel (reprinted as Hey Chicken Man), Not Yet Summer, and You're Dead, David Borelli! as well as multiple magazine and newspaper articles. Together and individually we have taught writing classes in colleges and have been speakers at conferences all over North America.

We have taken time out from our writing careers to pursue some other interests -- Susan has been teaching in elementary, high school and university classes in Washington state; Anne has been remodeling a 100 year old house in the wine district of South Eastern Ontario. But now we're writing again. New projects, new excitement and a new intention to leap into the digital writing community.

Hope you'll drop in again to see what's happening and what information we have to offer.

Now, quit reading this blog and start writing. Good luck!

f & f

Susan and Anne