"Good enough" is not good enough. Balancing technique, marketing, and my worst critic.

I let my husband read chapter one of The Corridor, the book I am currently editing the proof of and hope to have out by the end of March. Not to say this isn't the first time he read chapter one. He read chapter one a year ago. Since he likes math and has no desire to be a writer, I put in a lot of his suggestions where he thought I was getting a little too "irrational." I enjoy having him as a super cerebral, logical beta reader. On some things he's way off and my socioanalytical-emotional side balances his scientific-mathematical side. But more often than not he has a strange 6th sense that exorcizes even the best concealed B.S. And for some reason I thought he wouldn't find any in my proof. The dialogue was as follows, starting with him:

"It's not good enough."

"Why, give me examples."

"You don't mention this, this, and this."

"But I mention this, this and this here."

"It's too late, you already made me put the book down."

"But my writer's workshop loved this."

"Well, that's fine, but you can do better."

"This is the proof, I've edited this already!"

"Edit it again."

"Why?"

"It's not good enough."

"Is the whole thing trash?"

"No, you do some things very well, but not well enough. Good enough is not good enough."

First I was in denial. Ok. Whatever. So says the math genius who sees the world in 1's and 0's.

He kept on me so I tried being combative to which he told me I would get nowhere if I couldn't take criticism, especially from him.

I attempted playing to his rational side. This is genre. To succeed in the commodity market I have to pump out a book every six months. Maybe this is great for that pace. He told me that attitude would only get me mediocrity and he would not tolerate mediocrity.

So I tried victimization. I'm so tired, I'm in pain, I work too much for too little and it keeps me from writing, I've edited this so much, not everything can be perfect. Well, the math genius doesn't understand this language, it's not in 1's and 0's.

Then I got indignant. I've been writing and studying this business and craft for ten years, I'm just getting to a point where I think I'm doing decent work, maybe I should have some faith in my own knowledge, skills and intuition and know I'm in control. Exactly, he said, and that means knowing chapter one needs work.

I want to say that next I did NOT throw the book across the room and start crying. But. Well.

Nervous breakdown aside, I'm reworking chapter one. And editing the rest of the book. Again.

"You know you don't have to listen to me," he said when I recovered my sanity. "I'm just trying to help."

But the truth is, I know he is right. I was aiming for good enough. I achieved good enough. It's not good enough.

It's hard to keep sight of personal goals amid daunting news about shifting publishing formats, flooding of the market, a dwindling importance on reading, an acutely concentrated consumer base, and how to adequately flaw your characters and balance your plot.

There are a few things I believe. I believe you must publish at least a book a year, if not more, to build your brand and start selling. I believe genre will make more readers happy and build a more loyal readership for the author. I believe you will fail if you write to appease your audience rather than work on projects that really mean something to you. I believe there are no rules, and all my statements are wrong.

What I do have to work with are my goals. My first and foremost is to publish a book every six months. I think this goal is not only achievable, but achievable beyond "good enough."

In many ways, aiming for good enough got me to this point. I didn't agonize over super small things. I powered through. But now I need to dig deep and make it better. Take the advice I've been given. Keep going, because the journey is not over. But eventually there will come a point when I will say, stop. Close the book. It is finished. That is where I will rely on my intuition, knowledge and skills.

I would not have recommended such a swift publishing pace to myself a year ago. And if I find it doesn't work out, I will rearrange my goals. Maybe I'll need 8 months. Maybe I can overlap projects. But more than that, I need to stay focused and work harder. So simple, but not the most easy answer to hear.

I noticed a trend in many hobbies/professions/random things people do. A skill set is like a ladder. When you start learning about, say, writing, you begin to climb the ladder. After awhile you'll find you're climbing higher than some of the people around you. Then higher than most people around you. It is at this point you think, "Groovy. I'm so far up here and so many are below me." We stop climbing. We are good enough.

Now don't take that as an egotistical statement that I'm so high on the writing ladder. I am still staring up at the heels of many, many others. But I have made great strides in the quality of my own work. I was very happy with how The Corridor came out in the first proof. But ultimately, I know there are a few more rungs to be had. As an author, I know what good enough looks like.

And yes. I have health issues, I work crazy shifting hours, I feel that I am forcing time to write instead of making time. But that's what writing is. If you want to be good, you have to answer to yourself. If you want to be good, you have to make yourself stronger. And that means you push harder when the weight doesn't seem as heavy.

Like I said, I made it to good enough. Equating good enough to bad is unfair. I have the foundation. What I am going to build on that will only make it better. I got the hard part out of the way. I have a book. A complete book. But there are some places that need fixed. It's not the end of the world.

(Not to mention, I've been over some of this before with a different first proof.)

In many ways, good enough means you've gotten better. Maybe there were things you settled for in the past. Don't do it again. Make it better. Move forward. Know you can have marketing goals and retain the integrity of your writing, your process and your technique. Keeping the balance is a challenge, but one that needs to be met for any improvement to occur.

Usually I don't like posts like these, that claim there's a right way for doing things and any form of "settling" means it's not good enough. I feel terribly inept some days, crafting covers out of toothpicks and bubblegum, or writing on a scrap piece of paper on an hour drive home from a wedding reception with my cell phone light because it's the only way I'll make word count. Good enough is personal and unique to each author. But you know when you've found it.

So when you do, do something about it. Good enough doesn't have to be bad. Being stuck with it is.

Writing Technique Inspired by Tag Clouds

I call it "clouding," because I am a genius. Here's the back story.

While writing the bulk of my most recent book, I set a daily word count goal that usually changed by the week. My method would be to take a piece of paper to work and try to write a scene during my 15 minute breaks and my lunch. Then I would go home and type the scene and meet my word count. That worked okay maybe two days of the week. Most of the time my brain would be numb, I'd be lucky to write 300 words total on my piece of paper and when I got home I would be so burned out trying to produce the scene that I'd only type the words on the page and make such little progress and wallow in literary despair.

Something had to be done.

One day I was looking at my blank paper of doom and decided to chill out and just jot some things down, not worry about it being a scene, just to save my sanity. That's when I remembered the Tag Cloud on Smashwords.
A tag cloud is basically a group of words you have tagged all your books/stories with. These groupings of words together give a taste of what the writer is all about, collectively, even if the words are very different. Here's a screencap of Matilda's current humble tag cloud on Smashwords:

So, I started by just writing words that brought the essence of the scene out, which led to a rough outline of the scene with a few lines I wanted to use. I hadn't filled up much of my page at all, but I went home and typed over my word count goal. By not burning myself out and giving myself some time to brew over the essence of the scene, I was able to be much more productive.

This page is a week of my awesome clouding:

Normally, I would have tried to handwrite that much of a page at least in a day in the crevices of work. But this half a page turned into 2 1/2 chapters, one chapter is almost 3,000 words long. Much better than trying to force out scenes when I'm tired and uninspired.

I guess the lesson is, if something isn't working, try something new. Rearrange your ideals. I used to think it was impossible for me to write complete scenes unless I had handwritten them first. But my happy little clouds have proven me wrong. And I'm much more sane because of it.

Dissecting a scene

When the grind of the daily word count begins to numb my brain and create stifling trenches of ruts in my story, I like to step back, clear my palette and try new techniques. One I tried a couple years ago and I like to go back to it frequently. I call it Dissecting a scene.

I have three categories when I dissect a scene, but you can add more depending on what you are writing. My witty mnemonics are TEA: Things, Emotions, Actions.

I'll use an example from my current project since it's right in front of my face. The gist of the scene is this: my character Nelson is stuck in the Apocalypse and has for most of the book been traveling with a mean, inconsiderate character. He finally grows a pair and goes off on his own and finds some sanctuary with some nice people in a farm house. He is by himself for the first time since the end of the world for a few minutes in the farmhouse dining room. And go.

THINGS: All the physical descriptions in the room. The carpet, the peeling wall paper (and what's underneath it), lace curtains, the table and chairs, what they look like, the old framed photos, a coat rack covered in winter overalls (it's summer at the time the scene takes place), a bookshelf covered in yellowed, flaking newspapers, a saddle in the corner with an old rodeo buckle, the lantern light since the electricity is out etc. etc. etc. Think of as many things as possible, even if you don't think you'll use them. This goes for any setting: a gas station, a Victorian parlor, a jungle, a classroom. Include weather and time of day.

After I make a list of things, I tack on a sub-category of the 5 senses. I've put a lot of visuals, but then I try to add sounds (the way the floorboards creak when he walks, but the heavy silence when he stands still), tastes (I had to cheat as there's no food yet, but maybe he can visualize the table filled for thanksgiving dinner and his mom's pumpkin pie), smells (when he disturbs the dust around the picture frames) and how things feel (the belt buckle, the rough wood of the old table, the heat of the night with no air conditioning).

Keep in mind you don't have to use all of the items on your list, so go nuts. (The actual list I made of things in this scene was two pages long!)

EMOTIONS: He is feeling free for the first time. Relieved. Happy. Excited. These emotions are of course going to play on all the fear he's been feeling and the uncertainty of the future. List why your characters are feeling the way they are, even if it's leftover from previous scenes. Understand their emotional states to play on the visuals and actions.

ACTIONS: Things he is doing while he self-reflects. Looking at the pictures, pacing around the old floor, leaning on the table, sitting back in one of the chairs looking at the ceiling, touching the parts of the old saddle, making shadow puppets on the wall from the lamplight.

Since this scene is very slow moving, I don't have to worry about getting him from point A to point B. But in a scene with a lot of action, this can isolate all the other things to get your choreography down for how characters gets from doing one thing to the next to the next. Don't worry about emotions or other descriptors in this category, purely what they are doing.

Then, you can put it all together. I found it amazing how much better my descriptions were as I picked things out of the list I might never have thought of if I just wrote the scene.

I won't give away how I put together the scene (wait for the book to come out! :-P) but the shadow puppet thing, which I kind of added to my list as a joke, ended up being very symbolic and tying a lot together.

I especially like this in action scenes where I tend to focus all on the action and leave emotions/descriptions behind. Like I said, you won't use every item on the list, but having concentrated on each individually will give you more focus to choose the important things that relate to each other and make the symbolism better and strengthen theme. I also like to use this when I don't have time to think about writing a complete scene. Maybe I'm on break at work or have a few minutes at lunch, I can think of a scene, pick a category and make a list. Then when I have all the lists I can sit down and focus on the scene.

So, there you have it. I don't always use this technique, but it has proved helpful for me in certain situations. And it's much less bloody to take apart a scene before rather than dissecting after you've written the scene. Happy writing.

Proof myths debunked

With the publishing of my first full-length novel, "19 Years 10 Months 24 Days," I learned a lot about publishing that had up to that point been much theorizing and philosophy. One of the most interesting discoveries was the function of a proof in the publishing process. Here are a few misconceptions that I had. I shall call them myths, and debunk them accordingly.

I used createspace in a DIY fashion, formatting the ebook and directing the cover with my own photo and online tools. When I got the proof in the mail, it was very groovy and pretty much "that" experience that an author has. However, I had to run off to work, so I left the proof to look at later. I closed that night, and I got home an hour and a half later than usual, so I was dead tired. I ate some food and went to bed with my flashlight to read under the covers (so as not to wake the spouse unit) and wind down, as usual. For the fun of it, I decided to go ahead and read my proof, not expecting to edit, just to read. I got five sentences in and realized that reading in bed was a much, much different experience than going over my manuscript poised at my desk with a cup full of something caffeinated. Which brings me to…

Myth #1 − A digital proof is just as good as a physical one.

Now this is only a partial myth as the online and digital proofs generated on createspace were, in my opinion, very good. There was nothing in the physical proof that was not shown in the digital/PDF proofs. If you understand the PDF and digital layouts, you can make all the changes needed to have a well-formatted proof. I would have no problem approving a book for distribution after only seeing the digital proofs, if I had to.

The reading experience, however, was very different in print. I was amazed at how many things I caught that I had not found in my digital editing. I had even read the manuscript backward, five pages at a time to try to isolate emotional ties and dissect the passages from the holistic view that made me skip over words. Even more, things that I had left in intentionally trying to be artsy and descriptive did not work in my brain at midnight in bed with my flashlight. It took seeing a print version to realize many changes to make the book more reader friendly. It's very psychological. It soon became clear that there would be more than one proof to be ordered. Which debunks…

Myth #2 − Your proof is so close to done that it’s just kind of a formality/fun thing for an author to have.

I thought that I would order my proof, fix a few things here and there, and be ready to distribute in a week.

Three months later…

The first proof ended up having edits on almost every page. Having the physical proof gave me a whole new perspective, and one I really needed. I think some authors are so excited to be at the final stages of publishing that they get their proof looking to not find things to change instead of seeing the proof as a stage in the editing process. From this experience I will be ordering a physical proof earlier in the process to use specifically for editing, just because it helped me so much. I know all authors are different and with the rise of ebooks, some authors may have a better eye for screen-editing, but it's good for me to know that the print proof makes a big difference. But if you want my advice, print or screen, don't ever say "Oh, it's okay, I'll leave it" when going over your proof. Your proof is the chance to make changes before there's a copy in the library or people have bought it and you are confessing that there were too many mistakes and you will be uploading a newer version. And yeah, if I order a proof earlier, it will mean ordering more proofs. At CS, to print my book was $3.68 and another $4.00 or so to ship. To me, $7.00 a proof is worth what it allows me to do, editing-wise. And with the DIY capabilities with CS, the only costs I had directly with publishing the book were proofs. Around $21.00 when it was done. Another bit of advice: it will take more than one proof, but, don't fall prey to…

Myth #3 − It doesn’t matter how many times you go over it, you will always want to keep changing things in an endless spiral of doom.

As a writer, I've heard a million times, "Oh, I could never write a book, I'd never be happy with it and just need to keep changing it!" That's great, but my personal experience was, it did shape up the way I wanted it. The first proof was a disaster, but the second proof was much better. The third was even better and I was happy with where it was at. At that point, I took advantage of the digital proofs and formatting the ebooks for my final edits and then approved the proof for distribution. Changes and edits are good, but don't let some artistic cliché like that statement interfere with the process, because if you believe you will never be happy with it, you'll be more likely to skip over changes that do need to be made.


I'm gearing into the editing phase on Matilda's first print book, and I'm eager to put my new knowledge to the test and learn some more. Any other experiences out there with the wonderful, beguiling proof? Share in the comments!

Life.

I haven’t been blogging lately, and I’d love to say it’s because I’ve been oh-so busy writing, reading, and researching, being generally productive. In actuality, I’ve been doing a whole heaping load of not much, nothing really.

Not to say nothing has been *happening*. I had spine surgery, my husband started a second job, and we’ve been hunting for a place to live that’s resulted in us beginning to sort and pack up our things to move at the end of the month. A lot’s *happened*, but I haven’t gotten anything done. (Well, today I managed to dig out our kitchen and find our bedroom floor beneath the laundry, so that’s something, I suppose.)

Lately life has been a balancing game of investment and chances. How long can we afford to live here, how long can we afford not to live here, is the gas worth it there, can we cut our grocery bill here, when can I lift anything over five pounds?
My writing has been the same way. I have several unfinished short stories, and even more ideas that I haven’t put down. I screeched to a halt on burnout with one book, only to bounce in between three other book ideas a sentence at a time. Every time I go to write, I think, ‘what’s the chance of this getting published’ or ‘what contest could I put this in’ or ‘will this poem fit in a collection’ or ‘if I publish myself, what order would this book be best in, marketing wise?’

And honestly, it’s killed my creativity.

Much like life, I remember when writing was somewhat magical, if not easy then at least pain-free. There wasn’t chance, there wasn’t mistake, there weren’t so many make-or-break decisions.

The problem is that unlike life, writing can still be the pain-free freedom it always has been. I remember when the words were practically dragging me across the page, leaping out, without a thought to the clock other than if I had to stop, when I could continue on. With my first book, when I didn’t know the difference between self-publishing, traditional publishing, and vanity publishing, I couldn’t write enough. I finished the book and was inspired to edit it. I didn’t know where it was going and it took me to the end of several drafts. Then the publishing, the marketing, the author platform, social networking, why self-publishing is doom, why traditional publishing sticks you in a box, how everything in school began to be focused on resumes and job fairs and starting wages. And it all stopped. Hesitation. Doubt. Back tracking. Squeezing, speculating, shrinking. Three years later and not a damn thing has happened with that manuscript.

I can’t say that it’s all bad. I’m not saying writers shouldn’t be business savvy, or enjoy looking into trends in the industry, or never think about their audience. But don’t get lost in the game of cost/benefits or succumb to the indoctrination of the writing religion where the book becomes the least important part of the process, taking a backseat to sales and stats and taxes and marketing.

I get enough of that balancing our monthly expenses, why would I drag all that into my historical-paranormal-time travel?

I don’t know how to keep life out of my notebooks. The emotional and physical pain of your life and that of loved ones will always take precedent over art, no matter what. I’ve found that I may think about creative stanzas while looking out a hospital window, but it’ll be some time before it actually gets put down in some form of expression. But maybe if I put aside the profitability of those creative stanzas looking out the hospital window, I would be much better off.

I’ve definitely fallen off the writing bandwagon. But I’m realizing that the tumble wasn’t such a bad thing. It’s given me time to clear my head and really think about why I write and what I’m trying to do. The answers to these questions have been surprising. As I prepare to move, I’ve even given away some how-to-be-a-writer books (for lack of a better description) and am finally getting my stride back after some growing pains.

I hope with the next chapter of my life I can get back to doing what I love – now that I realize I still love it. That, and I can begin to live with life.

(PS – As for the blog, I’ll still have random rants and posts about the writing industry. Call it a hobby… sadistic as it may be…)

Editors. (Take a deep breath. Everything's all right.)

Does working with editors turn you into the defensive, angry, self-righteous author? Here are four things to tell your ego when the evil editor complex strikes.

1. They’re editors, not readers.

The editors that you choose to let start cutting into your work are not reading the piece on a beach on their vacation. If the only feedback is “It’s interesting, I like it a lot,” they are not being an editor. An editor doesn’t read a piece to enjoy it was a reader. They’re reading it to find weak spots – to make it better. It can be crushing to hear “Wow this needs a lot of work,” from an editor. You already put in a lot of work, after all. But trust me, it takes a lot of work to get to a point where it needs more, so don’t be discouraged.


2. Being defensive defies the purpose.

I like it when writers get a little defensive, but not when they completely shut out everything the editor suggests. I’ve worked on projects as an editor when the author is so adamant, I just stop making suggestions. So what’s the point of the editor if that happens? It’s a waste of everyone’s time. The great thing about being a self-publisher is that you really do have the last word. You don’t have to take all the suggestions an editor gives. But don’t let the suggestions you aren’t going to use interfere with the suggestions you should!


3. You are the expert and nothing changes that.

As a self-publisher, I don’t have the resources to pay a professional editor, but I do have a team of a select few readers that have editing strengths in different areas. Some have studied literature, some have not. Some have worked in the writing field, some have not. Just because someone has a degree in literature doesn’t mean they know more than you. I witnessed a lot of English degree people that didn’t read the books they were assigned in lit classes. That’s all lit classes are! How do you learn anything about literature if you don’t read? A degree doesn’t make you. A degree is what you make it. I’m going on six years studying literature and writing. I have my degree and I continue to read, edit other people’s work, and practice my own writing. When I get overwhelmed with suggestions I need to remember to trust my own knowledge, skills, and intuition. On the flipside I’ve gotten great advice from people who know what time it is and know way more than me. You know when you get suggestions from someone brilliant, and that’s great. But you should still be the expert when it comes to what’s best for the audience, the story, the characters, and the whole point of the book. It’s up to you to take suggestions, leave suggestions, and do the piece justice.


4. If you were holding the red pen, you’d be doing the same thing.

People have asked me what would happen if I launched my own publishing company and were the chief editor. Well. Everything would have to get past me. And I’m picky, rigid, unforgiving and terribly honest. But as a writer, I can’t always give that terribleness to myself, because I truly can’t see the forest for the trees. So I put my trust in the editors I choose to give it back to me. And when that makes me insecure or discourages me, I have to remember that I would do the same thing. And it isn’t for some power trip, it isn’t to tear an author down, it isn’t to rewrite the piece for them – it’s to make the piece better. It can always be better. I’ve said that as long as there’s a book I haven’t read, there are things about writing I haven’t learned. And as long as there’s an Ursula Le Guin book on my shelf, there’s proof I can be better. I don’t know why I can dish so much of it, but get wobbly and panicky when it’s given back. But knowing my own motives in reading other people’s work makes me feel better about taking suggestions from others. It’s very psychological.

I’ll do another post on editor-philosophy at a later date. Until then I hope this softens a few porcupine quills when it comes to editing. If that metaphor makes any sense at all. Happy new year!

How does a writer know a piece is good?

So, here’s the anecdote. Someone found out I was writing a book. That someone then says, “You’re writing a book?” There’s a pause. “Is it good?”

Honestly… I don’t know.

I’m not sure if any new/unestablished writers can ever really know if their work is “good.” Sure, there are basic things like a decent plot structure, invoking the reader to care about the main character(s), believability, and decent grammar/correct spelling. But, still. Is it “good?” Do readers want to finish the book? Does the story communicate your point? Do readers find their own meanings in your words? HOW DO YOU KNOW? Well. I’m not sure.

I’ll use a recent short story I wrote to illustrate examples of problems I think authors run into getting decent, unbiased, feedback.

The story is called “Count Down” and in a sentence it is set in a dystopian future where people are controlled by an internal watch that clocks them in and out of consciousness. It’s a little less than 2,000 words.

I wrote the story in an intense two days and had high hopes for it, but I wanted to make it the best it could. I still needed some direction, some focus, so I edited it over a period of two months.

My first move was to ask some people to read it, as readers. I have a lot of friends who are into sci-fi. I posted an inquiry on my Facebook and got five responses. I sent the story out. That was 6 months ago. Only one person read it, a fellow writer, and most of her suggestions, coming from a writer’s standpoint, I was already aware of. Which brings me to problem one. It’s hard to find readers. I don’t think that my friends intentionally didn’t read the story, or thought it was so terrible they couldn’t face me. They were just busy. I’m guilty of this, too. I have a few pieces still sitting in my email I told people I’d proofread. Life is hectic. And that’s just a short story of 2,000 words. A novelist can’t just put aside a book for five years waiting for someone to read it. And if they do, likely the person that will read it is a writer themselves. The help I get from fellow writers is great, but I believe an author really needs reader feedback. I think that writers get caught up on things readers don’t. But, maybe the readers thought my story did suck that bad, but I wouldn’t know it because they never told me.

My next thought was to give it to my mom to proofread. She’s a professional editor after all. She has an MFA and everything. But, I didn’t. She’s great at technical editing, but our ideas about… well, ideas… are very different. She doesn’t like sex in writing. (Side story: I bought condoms with her at the store once and she built a little condom-hut around the box with other items in the cart. It was awesome.) I’ve gotten to the point where my technical editing is pretty good, when I take the time. I just felt that any feedback I’d get from her would be a metaphorical condom-hut over the sexy parts of my story, which aren’t graphic, but an important part of the theme. I needed to focus my theme, not cover it up. Which brings me to our next problem. A writer might have a well read person eager to read his/her work, but that person might not know anything about/be into the genre of the piece. I try to be versatile, but I know there are some genres that I can’t offer the best advice I have, because I’m not familiar/it’s not what I do. I especially know I can’t give decent feedback when I’m turned off by the content of the story. And that’s not fair to the author, or the story since there is an audience out there for the piece somewhere.

So, I went ahead and submitted the story to a lit journal. It was rejected. The editor said, “It just didn’t work for me.” That’s fine. The way editors and literary journals work (and how authors should work with them) is a whole other blog entry, and something I won’t get into right now. But it brings me to another problem: Editor feedback is rare and even when editors of lit journals make it a point to give feedback, it is generally vague and sometimes not helpful at all. If you’re in school, feedback from your English professors can be great, but if you aren’t in school you’re probably not going to be graded on every piece you have. Even if you are in school, professors can’t read everything you write. You can pay an editor, but right now I can’t even afford to join my local writer’s guild, let alone an editor for every short story and novel I put together. I went to school for five years for writing, so I try to trust my own skills, but I can’t deny the value of a fresh set of eyeballs. And for authors that never studied writing primarily, this self-resource might not even be available.

So here I am with a story I love and I have no idea if it’s “good” or not. I plan to tap out a few more reader resources if I can, or maybe submit the piece to another journal.

At any rate, when an author does get feedback, it’s important to consider the context of the feedback just as much as getting feedback. Don’t let an editor or reader make all the decisions. I strongly believe an author should be a good editor, on other people’s work as well as their own. On the other hand, don’t be so intent on your magical vision that you throw away good advice given by readers or editors. Reflect about what changes you make and understand why you make them.

Also beware of people that just love everything you write. I thought I was super awesome until I realized I had ZERO negative feedback that I desperately needed to hear. Saying “Your story is interesting and I liked it a lot!” is the worst feedback ever, unless it is backed up with reasons. Even then, interesting ideas don’t always equal good writing. It’s great that readers like your ideas, but make sure you give the mechanics and structure just as much thought as your ideas.

I’m not sure I’m closer to an answer after mulling this over. My best advice is to study writing, study the kind of poetry or prose you want to write, and be open to considering feedback wherever you can get it.

Further reading at Better Writing Habits and Write For Your Life.

Typing is not productive. Sort of.

Well, that lasted about a week. My personal attempt to keep up with the Nanowrimo writing 1,600-some word a day to get to 50,000 in a month. The first day I started out at negative seven words because I edited. The second day I typed a little over 1,000 words because I had peach schnapps. After these first eleven days of November, I went back and averaged my word count and came up with 500 words typed a day, which has been my working goal for a couple months now. So, I haven’t gotten faster. But I’ve maintained. And I’m pretty much happy with that.

However, the attempt did raise some points about productivity.

I find personally that the days I spend typing are the “least” productive. Yes, typing is important, anda big piece of the process. But other really important parts include but are not limited to:

1. Getting ideas/filling plot holes. This means that one day, one minute, even one second, I won’t know how to end a scene, and the next second I will. Sometimes whole new characters, scenarios, or themes will come up this way as well. (Sometimes even whole new storylines for that matter.) This doesn’t require any typing at all. This goes the same for filling plot holes. I might scribble down ten different ways to stitch a scene together, but that doesn’t get typed either.

2. Rough drafting. I might be in the minority here, but I have to handwrite everything before I type. I usually double the word count when I type it up, but without the material to go on, I just look at a blank screen and a blinking cursor.

3. Editing. Yes, this does include typing, but a lot of times it includes deleting. I took 20 pages out of my first novel. I edited a 10,000 word story down to 2,000 and it was much better. Again, no typing.

4. Final editing. For me, so much of a book actually gets written in the final stages. And it’s not typing a lot. It’s scrutinizing over one word at a time in a paragraph because it will strengthen a theme, or communicate an idea better, or just be more reader friendly.

So, I guess that’s the main hang up I had with trying to make the word count. It wasn’t productive for me. I didn’t change my process, either. I still wrote pages by hand, researched, studied words in the dictionary, and wouldn’t move on unless I was happy. And 500 words a day at that rate is fine by me.

Would it be awesome to have 50,000 words at the end of the month? Yeah, but I know the process will get slowed later (…beta readers… formatting… cover design… ) so I’d rather not rush junk when I can be consistently productive now.

I also tried to keep a “Nanolog” but I only wrote down things that got in my way:

Got called into work.
Was scheduled at work.
People in the break room making me feel awkward while I wrote like a lunatic on the crumpled paper I had shoved in my pocket.
Sleeping.
Dishes/laundry/cooking/grocery shopping.
Being a good wife/sister/daughter and helping people I love and all that.
Did I mention sleeping?

In summary: A pot fills one drop at a time. Write every day, even if it’s only a sentence. And peach schnapps helps. Good night.

My take on NaNoWriMo. Jeopardy and all.

I can tell you now that most of the material on this blog will be stuff that happens to be right in front of my face the day I sit down to post. Right in front of my face currently:NaNoWriMo. Oh no. Oh, yes.

As a backdrop, I’ll share my first acquaintance with the NaNoWriMo.

I was watching Jeopardy.

One of the special kid contest ones with middle schoolers or high schoolers, I don’t remember, I was just a middle schooler or high schooler myself. One of the contestants in her little “get to know you” segment in between rounds said that she’d “won” NaNoWriMo by writing 50,000 words in a month.

I was astounded that anyone could write a novel in a month. I’d been messing around with writing a book and I had no clue how anyone my age could ever get passed the chemical spill that was teenagery to write five good pages in a month let alone a whole book. I was inspired. I thought I’d found a magical writing key and unlocked some serious business. It was about accuracy AND speed. I rethought my writing process and made some real improvements. It was great. And I decided that one day, maybe I’d enter, and out of all the books, mine might come close to winning the contest. That would be pretty sweet.

Years later I find out that “winning” is anyone who meets the word requirement, even if it means having a character recite Twinkle Twinkle Little Star seventeen times to make the word count. (Which is honestly totally fine by me; I have come to despise competition poetry slams, so I can respect a contest that doesn’t have one set winner. It’s a goal. A big goal and it’s really groovy if you can meet said goal.) I was just really confused as to what all the hype would be about typing 50,000 words in a month. After all, a lot goes into writing a book besides sheer word count. How would you quantify editing if it meant you had -324 word count for the day?

So, I carried on and never really gave it much thought, until recently when nearly everyone in my writer’s circle (all four of us!) asked if I was going to do NaNoWriMo. And with the importance the internet plays in writing books nowadays (especially the self-publishers like I’m aiming at) I can’t get very far researching book trends and writing philosophies without getting barraged by OMGNANOWRIMOISNEXTMONTH!

That being said, this is my blog and this is my take on NaNoWriMo. It’s a list.
First, something like NaNoWriMo can be awesome if you need a community support. I’ve been pretty fortunate that a lot of people who are close to me support my writing and I can get great feedback from fellow writers and stretch my own editing muscles on their work. Not everyone has such an environment, so that aspect can be crucial for many participants.

Second, I’m not going to bash the balls to the wall approach of pumping out 50,000 words in 30 days. Everyone has different writing processes and this may very well be a great method for a lot of writers. Not to mention that I personally want to try to do it because it’s a method I’ve never tried before and I’d be limiting myself if I just tossed the idea away without attempting. I might get two weeks in and find the method useless for me. Or it might end up being like crack and I’ll have another 50,000 words by January. Never know.

Third, I’m not going to go all epic self-righteous or insecure about NaNoWriMo encouraging already bad writers to make even worse books and flood the reading pool with a few thousand more terrible examples of what not to do in a matter of 30 days. It’s a whole other blog post, but really, writing a book is an opportunity for me, you, and everyone else in the world. Bad books don’t ruin good ones. The end.

Fourth, there are, however, things I don’t like about the idea. Mainly, that there are all these forums, and status updates, and sign-ins, and a bunch of blog posts (like this one) philosophosizing over NaNoWriMo. Who has time to write if you’re so involved in the superfluous aspect of the competition? I mean, I’m almost halfway done with the daily word count for NaNoWriMo with this blog post alone. People that use the internet, especially social networking sites and blogs type a ridiculous amount every day, and on top of that they work on their books. A lot of writers already have set word counts they try to meet in a day. If they don’t, they try to catch up later. To me, if you set your own limits, meeting your own goals should be much more rewarding and productive then following one set by NaNoWriMo.

Summary: Honestly, I just feel like NaNoWriMo is hardcore writing with some light bulbs stuck on it. A novel is a lot of words. Putting all those words together is a lot of work. It’s no different if you do it in July or November.

When it comes down to it, the attention you give your book when no one else gives a goat is where the real success is. What you do with your work before the book launch, the spine-tingling sensation of seeing the final cover design, the potential good and bad reviews, the publicity, the promotion, the giving away of business cards, or the climactic moment when a reader asks you to sign their book – before all of that – is what will make all those aspects fly or flunk.

There’s nothing wrong with participating in NaNoWriMo, if it’s a fun challenge or a kick in the ass for you to get some typing done. After all, you can’t edit a book if there’s nothing there. But just like writing in general, don’t take yourself too seriously. Take what you’re doing seriously, but know that 50,000 words in a row can be brilliance or bullshit. Don’t get the two confused.

Further reading: A pro-NaNoWriMo article and an anti-NaNoWriMo blog post. Cheers!