When it comes to worldbuilding, especially fantasy worldbuilding, constructing a language is the sort of thing you sometimes feel you ought to do, especially since Tolkien set the standard by not only building several languages, but their historical evolution.
That's hardcore linguist stuff, and you shouldn't go there unless you've got love for it.
And let's face it, the bulk of the constructed language stuff only exists for small percentage of purists in your audience.
But, let's say you wanted to have that hint of the larger language-- just that hint of verisimilitude, so when you drop an "othered" word in your manuscript it doesn't feel like you threw a handful of Alpha-Bits on your desk to get your word.
So, the easiest way to accomplish this is not to worry too much about grammar and vocabulary. If you don't need to construct complete sentences on a regular basis in your manuscript, there's no need for it. But what you can do, without too much work, is figure out what the building blocks of the words are, and use that to create a sense that the language has a consistent framework.
One way is to familiarize yourself with the International Phonetic Alphabet, which is a simple, codified way to express about every sound the human mouth can make. You don't have to memorize or master it (I certainly haven't), but get a sense of it.
From there, you can figure out what phonemes and morphemes can exist in the language. You don't need to come up with an alphabet, or even if the language is alphabetic (like English and Romance languages), syllabic (like Japanese) or logographic (like Chinese). You just need to know what sounds are allowed.
Now, devise a consistent way to express these allowed sounds. In a way, this is creating the alphabet, but specifically you're creating the transliteration of your language, using the symbols you can readily type. (You could just use the IPA, but that might frustrate readers.) But it's important to make it consistent. English can be a maddening language in that sense: "straight", "wait', "weight" and "late" all rhyme, but express the same vowel sound four different ways. This can also minimize your own confusion when you go to make a new word.
This will also prevent you from making typical "fantasy language" errors-- namely, throwing in accent marks or apostrophes or excessive use of the letters "æ"or "y" to make it seems like a Fantasy Language word. I'm not saying you can't use accent marks or apostrophes or the letters "æ"or "y", but if you create a clear set of transliteration rules, then they won't come off as random. They'll be a consistent feature of the words of that language.
And that will make it feel more real, without having to invent the whole thing.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Monday, October 28, 2013
Dueling Query Letters!
This time around we have two variant query letters for the same project, courtesy of Amy Judd. Let's see what we can do for her:
Version One:
Version 2:
In both cases, I think that first sentence is doing you more harm than good. That sentence is almost a cliché, and even if your story is following that trope, announcing it right off the bat will probably shut more agents down. Plus you should consider using that first space for a more personalized greeting of the agent in question.
FIRST PARAGRAPH (both versions) : I think you're trying to overpack a lot of concepts in here, that may go above an beyond what you ought to do in a query letter. It's loaded with high-concept key words: Marked, gift, benefactor, sky pirates, Resistance, All-Knowing Spirit, etc. It's a bit overwhelming. Remember that you don't have to explain everything in the query. However, while at the same time, there's a certain vagueness which can make the whole thing sound generic.
Generic is the last thing you want.
Case in point: "her city-state". Does it have a name? "Her gift", "her power". Is this about magic, or something else? "Resistance"-- who are they resisting, and why would Genieve find that useful? Are they resisting "The Council", who are similarly vague in their nomenclature? "A terrible act"-- what, exactly? "All-knowing Spirit"-- what is that?
The second version is stronger-- "falsely accused" is a bit better than "wrongfully accused", for example (the former implies malignant intent, while the latter merely a mistake). Same with "middle of a civil war".
Also, "who’s her friend and who’s her foe" is a bulkier way of saying "who she can trust".
SECOND PARAGRAPH- The way you've put this together, I'm getting the impression that you're going to be doing some sort of alternating-POV in this book: a chapter of Genieve, a chapter of Aleister, and back to Genieve. That's what I infer when I see two separate paragraphs about two different characters. However, their stories are clearly intertwined, so you might consider dropping this format.
In general, consider the merits of integrating the two paragraphs to represent the narrative flow a bit better.
OVERALL: I think the thing that's hurting this query letter the most is you're going for breadth over depth. You hit a lot of elements in a generic way as opposed to a few in a specific way, and I think the latter will present a stronger hook. From my read, these are the points you should focus on, as they represent the drive of the narrative:
Anyone else have a query letter they want an opinion on? Send it my way.
Version One:
Genieve Hart is about to grow up –but not in a way she expected.
Born one of the Marked, Genieve expected to learn about her gift in her home city-state. That was until a benefactor betrayed her to the Council. Wrongfully accused, Genieve faces incarceration or a fantastical escape with the help of sky pirates. Getting in contact with the Resistance was easy, as easy as falling face first into the middle of an uprising war. Haunted by strange dreams, and an all-knowing spirit Genieve begins to understand exactly what her Mark’s power is. In the meantime discovering who’s her friend and who’s her foe, but not before it’s too late.
Aleister Malakim is willing to sacrifice anything – or anyone to conquer the City-States. Even if that means kidnapping, using his own Mark, or filling the atmosphere with falling air ship, all trying to cash-in on the bounty on Genieve’s head. All he needs to make the Malakim Regime’s rise to power absolute is Genieve’s cooperation.
MECHANICS OF FATE is a Steampunk Fantasy novel, complete at 109,000 words. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
Amy Judd
Version 2:
Dear Mr. Maresca,
Genieve Hart is about to grow up---but not in the way she expected.
Born one of the Marked, she expected to learn about her gift in her home city-state. That is until one of her supposed benefactors betrayed her unusual talents to the Council. Falsely accused of a terrible act, Genieve faces incarceration. She chooses instead to make an escape with the help of sky pirates. Getting in contact with the Resistance was easy, so easy that she fell face first into the middle of a civil war. As Genevieve is haunted by strange dreams and an All-Knowing Spirit, she becomes fully aware of her power designated by the Mark. Discovering who’s her friend and who’s her foe is important but it’s too late…
Aleister Malakim is willing to use anything or anyone to conquer the City-States even if that means kidnapping or using the power of his Mark. His ambition succeeds in filling the sky with air ships all trying to cash in on the excessive bounty on Genieve’s head. What he needs to make the Malakim Regimes’ rise to power absolute is her cooperation.
Mechanics of Fate is a steampunk fantasy novel, complete at 109,000 words.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Sincerely,
Amy Judd
In both cases, I think that first sentence is doing you more harm than good. That sentence is almost a cliché, and even if your story is following that trope, announcing it right off the bat will probably shut more agents down. Plus you should consider using that first space for a more personalized greeting of the agent in question.
FIRST PARAGRAPH (both versions) : I think you're trying to overpack a lot of concepts in here, that may go above an beyond what you ought to do in a query letter. It's loaded with high-concept key words: Marked, gift, benefactor, sky pirates, Resistance, All-Knowing Spirit, etc. It's a bit overwhelming. Remember that you don't have to explain everything in the query. However, while at the same time, there's a certain vagueness which can make the whole thing sound generic.
Generic is the last thing you want.
Case in point: "her city-state". Does it have a name? "Her gift", "her power". Is this about magic, or something else? "Resistance"-- who are they resisting, and why would Genieve find that useful? Are they resisting "The Council", who are similarly vague in their nomenclature? "A terrible act"-- what, exactly? "All-knowing Spirit"-- what is that?
The second version is stronger-- "falsely accused" is a bit better than "wrongfully accused", for example (the former implies malignant intent, while the latter merely a mistake). Same with "middle of a civil war".
Also, "who’s her friend and who’s her foe" is a bulkier way of saying "who she can trust".
SECOND PARAGRAPH- The way you've put this together, I'm getting the impression that you're going to be doing some sort of alternating-POV in this book: a chapter of Genieve, a chapter of Aleister, and back to Genieve. That's what I infer when I see two separate paragraphs about two different characters. However, their stories are clearly intertwined, so you might consider dropping this format.
In general, consider the merits of integrating the two paragraphs to represent the narrative flow a bit better.
OVERALL: I think the thing that's hurting this query letter the most is you're going for breadth over depth. You hit a lot of elements in a generic way as opposed to a few in a specific way, and I think the latter will present a stronger hook. From my read, these are the points you should focus on, as they represent the drive of the narrative:
- falsely accused
- escapes with sky pirates
- face-first into civil war
- price on her head
- haunted dreams
- who can she trust?
Anyone else have a query letter they want an opinion on? Send it my way.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Analysis of a SF/F Query Letter
This week we have a brave soul who is willing to have his query letter given a public critique. And there's a good lesson in here about the overall challenges genre writers face with queries. It's kind of the same problem we have with first chapters. Let's take a look.
---
First, here's the letter as I received it:
OK, Matt, the first thing that jumps out at me is how this is formatted, with a lot of extra lines between paragraphs. It's a minor thing, easily fixable, but even a little thing like that, hitting the eye "wrong" can have a negative impact. Of course, if the query letter really sells, something like that shouldn't matter. That's not the same as doesn't, though.
Greeting and First Paragraph: This is pretty solid: it shows personalization, and he's researched enough into me (or rather, me-as-hypothetical-agent, but the premise stands) that I know he's not just blasting out to the world. That was an especially good touch for this exercise-- keep that up for the actual queries. My only real complaint here is "I have chosen to submit to you..." is a bit indirect. Perhaps "I am submitting to you" or other phrase that hits with a straight line.
Second Paragraph: It strikes me this is giving me an overview of the book that you are essentially repeating in the third paragraph. This is not a strong use of your limited space here, especially since the way you tell me in the third paragraph is far more dynamic.
Third Paragraph: Here's the real meat of the query. The thing that has my attention is the twist on the "portal" story-- more on that in a moment-- in that the initial portal adventure already happened, and Elizabeth doesn't remember it. Not only doesn't she remember, but there were real consequences to going. Her brother stayed behind. I really like that because it subverts one of the "rules" of portal stories: that the adventurers return home, with no tangible evidence of their journey. Since that's impossible with him staying behind, "our" universe bends to accommodate, and hides that he ever existed. This is a fantastic hook.
However, I don't think you're communicating it quite as efficiently as you could. So, first off, kill the second paragraph as is-- you're giving away your big reveal a bit too soon-- and break the third into two. The first paragraph should hit the set-up points: Strange attacks, fragments of memory, discovery of the "missing" room and Grim. The second paragraph should be the reveal: Elizabeth going to Edge, hinting at her power and her legend... and that the tyrant she must defeat is the brother she can't remember.
Here's the things to keep in mind: "Portals happen", as I once heard an agent put quite succinctly. So you don't have to overexplain it, as your target audience (an agent who reps fantasy) knows the tropes. You can presume a certain degree of genre-savvy, and you don't have to front-load your query letter to pre-explain it. I think this is the same sort of problem genre writers have in their opening chapters-- they approach their audience like an overcautious tour guide, making sure that everyone is clear about what's happening and what the rules are, rather than jumping in an trusting that your audience knows the sort of thing they are in for. They know, and they (hopefully) want to see how you're going to play with it.
Detail points:
Thanks for sharing, Matt!
---
First, here's the letter as I received it:
Dear Mr. Maresca,
I have chosen to submit to you due to your interest in fantasy and young adult novels. I am a frequent reader of your blog and appreciate all of your advice to aspiring writers.
In my novel Eliza of Edge, a teenage girl discovers that her world and her memory have been altered to remove all evidence of a younger brother, a boy who has grown to become the fanatical tyrant of a magical land.
Alone during a summer storm, Elizabeth finds her home under attack by mysterious assailants who disappear as quickly as they arrived. Things only get stranger when she stumbles into a room that shouldn't exist, the bedroom of a younger brother her world has been made to forget. Within this room hides a mysterious stranger named Grim, a traveler from a mystical land. He has come to seek help in defeating Silas the Pretender, the tyrant who rules over the land of Edge...the tyrant who was once Elizabeth's little brother. Eliza of Edge is the story of a girl who is forced to confront not only a powerful magical ruler, but her own forgotten adventures in a world where her name lives within legend.
Eliza of Edge is a 132,000-word novel of the young adult/fantasy genre. It is the first novel that I have written.
Thank you in advance for your time.
Sincerely,
Matthew Brown
OK, Matt, the first thing that jumps out at me is how this is formatted, with a lot of extra lines between paragraphs. It's a minor thing, easily fixable, but even a little thing like that, hitting the eye "wrong" can have a negative impact. Of course, if the query letter really sells, something like that shouldn't matter. That's not the same as doesn't, though.
Greeting and First Paragraph: This is pretty solid: it shows personalization, and he's researched enough into me (or rather, me-as-hypothetical-agent, but the premise stands) that I know he's not just blasting out to the world. That was an especially good touch for this exercise-- keep that up for the actual queries. My only real complaint here is "I have chosen to submit to you..." is a bit indirect. Perhaps "I am submitting to you" or other phrase that hits with a straight line.
Second Paragraph: It strikes me this is giving me an overview of the book that you are essentially repeating in the third paragraph. This is not a strong use of your limited space here, especially since the way you tell me in the third paragraph is far more dynamic.
Third Paragraph: Here's the real meat of the query. The thing that has my attention is the twist on the "portal" story-- more on that in a moment-- in that the initial portal adventure already happened, and Elizabeth doesn't remember it. Not only doesn't she remember, but there were real consequences to going. Her brother stayed behind. I really like that because it subverts one of the "rules" of portal stories: that the adventurers return home, with no tangible evidence of their journey. Since that's impossible with him staying behind, "our" universe bends to accommodate, and hides that he ever existed. This is a fantastic hook.
However, I don't think you're communicating it quite as efficiently as you could. So, first off, kill the second paragraph as is-- you're giving away your big reveal a bit too soon-- and break the third into two. The first paragraph should hit the set-up points: Strange attacks, fragments of memory, discovery of the "missing" room and Grim. The second paragraph should be the reveal: Elizabeth going to Edge, hinting at her power and her legend... and that the tyrant she must defeat is the brother she can't remember.
Here's the things to keep in mind: "Portals happen", as I once heard an agent put quite succinctly. So you don't have to overexplain it, as your target audience (an agent who reps fantasy) knows the tropes. You can presume a certain degree of genre-savvy, and you don't have to front-load your query letter to pre-explain it. I think this is the same sort of problem genre writers have in their opening chapters-- they approach their audience like an overcautious tour guide, making sure that everyone is clear about what's happening and what the rules are, rather than jumping in an trusting that your audience knows the sort of thing they are in for. They know, and they (hopefully) want to see how you're going to play with it.
Detail points:
- I'm not too keen on the repeated use of "her world" here. It's a bit too twee for my taste. It's her memory and life, keep it more focused on how the removal of her brother affects her.
- Why is a "summer" storm relevant? It's not necessarily a bad detail, but you tell us that before you tell us Elizabeth's name, it gives that point heavy importance. Something to think about.
- "Eliza of Edge is the story of a girl who..." We already know it's a story about something. Get rid of the extra couching terms, and tell it directly. "Elizabeth is forced to confront..."
Thanks for sharing, Matt!
Monday, October 21, 2013
Perils of the Writer: Query Letters
I brought up query letters last week as part of the whole Heinlein's Five Rules posts, so it's worth talking about them.
Query letters are evil. I've never met a single writer who was all, "Yeah! I get to write a query letter!" It doesn't happen. Query letters are, for all intents, the equivalent of trying to get a prom date at a high school with a 500:1 gender imbalance in your disfavor. Your goal is to get your intended paramour's attention while the other 499 of your competition are always screaming, and to have any chance, you must follow specific rules of courtly approach.
And they have to be succinct. You want to tell the agent EVERYTHING. But don't forget, the query is only the bait to get them to bite. Your actual manuscript is where you reel them in.
So, I've decided to extend my offer to read and critique query letters. You've got one and you need another pair of eyes on it? Send it this way. If you are really bold, I'll critique it here on the blog.
Simply send it to me at maresca at mrmaresca.com, with "Query" as the subject, and indicate whether you want a public or private critique.
Still not sure what a query letter should look like? Here's a sample that, hopefully, will at least amuse you.
----
Dear ____,
Not Writing My Query Letter is a 90,000 word young adult novel. Since you are interested in procrastination, I thought it would appeal to you.
Holly Harris is a young girl with a dream: a finished novel that she wants to query to literary agents. If gets her foot in that door, she knows she'll hit the best seller lists.
But when the Query process begins to look like a looming horror of rejection and pain, writers block hits her hard. She hopes her boyfriend Jake can help her work it out, but he's always busy, and it seems that bad boy Eddie is always around with his thesaurus. Which boy will be the beta-reader of her heart?
Not Writing My Query Letter is a stand-alone novel, but I envision it as the first in a series of several books. I'd be happy to send a complete copy of the manuscript for your review. Thank you for your time, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
---
Query letters are evil. I've never met a single writer who was all, "Yeah! I get to write a query letter!" It doesn't happen. Query letters are, for all intents, the equivalent of trying to get a prom date at a high school with a 500:1 gender imbalance in your disfavor. Your goal is to get your intended paramour's attention while the other 499 of your competition are always screaming, and to have any chance, you must follow specific rules of courtly approach.
And they have to be succinct. You want to tell the agent EVERYTHING. But don't forget, the query is only the bait to get them to bite. Your actual manuscript is where you reel them in.
So, I've decided to extend my offer to read and critique query letters. You've got one and you need another pair of eyes on it? Send it this way. If you are really bold, I'll critique it here on the blog.
Simply send it to me at maresca at mrmaresca.com, with "Query" as the subject, and indicate whether you want a public or private critique.
Still not sure what a query letter should look like? Here's a sample that, hopefully, will at least amuse you.
----
Dear ____,
Not Writing My Query Letter is a 90,000 word young adult novel. Since you are interested in procrastination, I thought it would appeal to you.
Holly Harris is a young girl with a dream: a finished novel that she wants to query to literary agents. If gets her foot in that door, she knows she'll hit the best seller lists.
But when the Query process begins to look like a looming horror of rejection and pain, writers block hits her hard. She hopes her boyfriend Jake can help her work it out, but he's always busy, and it seems that bad boy Eddie is always around with his thesaurus. Which boy will be the beta-reader of her heart?
Not Writing My Query Letter is a stand-alone novel, but I envision it as the first in a series of several books. I'd be happy to send a complete copy of the manuscript for your review. Thank you for your time, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
---
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Heinlein's Fifth Rule
Final installment in our Heinlein Rules. To backtrack: First, Second, Third and Fourth.
Heinlein gives his Fifth Rule as such:
RULE #5: YOU MUST KEEP THE WORK ON THE MARKET UNTIL IT IS SOLD.
So, here's where Mr. Heinlein and I must part ways*, because I don't fully agree with this rule. For one, I think it's already intrinsic to the Fourth Rule-- you need to put stuff out there, and it needs to stay out there. Sure. So in part, I'm not too keen on this rule because it's redundant. But also, on some level, I think it's bad advice. You've got to be able to recognize when it's time to put something in the trunk. That you might be doing yourself more harm than good flailing a project out there that's well and truly flawed and unsellable.
The other big reason I'm not on board with this rule is it doesn't feel like the next proper step in terms of discipline. "Put it out there" is energy. "Keep it out there" is inertia.
So what's a better rule to show what one needs to do in order to move on to the next level? If I may be so bold:
ALTERNATE RULE #5: YOU MUST MOVE ON TO THE NEXT PROJECT.
This makes a lot more sense to me. You've pushed your baby out of the nest, and regardless of what happens with that, you've got to make something else. Something new.
And I must stress the 'something new'. I fully understand the temptation, but you shouldn't go headfirst into 'Book Two' of whatever you're shopping. Put down notes, draft an outline, have a plan? Sure. Yes. If my experience is typical, if you get interest in the book you're shopping, you'll be asked for plans for possible books two and three. So having those plans is good. But leave it at that.
Whatever you really work on next needs to be something whose sale is not dependent on the sale of the thing your shopping. Because then you're building a whole house of cards, investing more and more into something you might have to through in the trunk. And if you invest that much, you're going to become more and more petrified in letting go. Move on. To something new.
It's hard. It's supposed to be. Tom Hanks will tell you why.
Go get to it.
---
*- There's also the "time travel to seduce my mom" part of Time Enough For Love, and in general the creepiness of late-era Heinlein.
Heinlein gives his Fifth Rule as such:
RULE #5: YOU MUST KEEP THE WORK ON THE MARKET UNTIL IT IS SOLD.
So, here's where Mr. Heinlein and I must part ways*, because I don't fully agree with this rule. For one, I think it's already intrinsic to the Fourth Rule-- you need to put stuff out there, and it needs to stay out there. Sure. So in part, I'm not too keen on this rule because it's redundant. But also, on some level, I think it's bad advice. You've got to be able to recognize when it's time to put something in the trunk. That you might be doing yourself more harm than good flailing a project out there that's well and truly flawed and unsellable.
The other big reason I'm not on board with this rule is it doesn't feel like the next proper step in terms of discipline. "Put it out there" is energy. "Keep it out there" is inertia.
So what's a better rule to show what one needs to do in order to move on to the next level? If I may be so bold:
ALTERNATE RULE #5: YOU MUST MOVE ON TO THE NEXT PROJECT.
This makes a lot more sense to me. You've pushed your baby out of the nest, and regardless of what happens with that, you've got to make something else. Something new.
And I must stress the 'something new'. I fully understand the temptation, but you shouldn't go headfirst into 'Book Two' of whatever you're shopping. Put down notes, draft an outline, have a plan? Sure. Yes. If my experience is typical, if you get interest in the book you're shopping, you'll be asked for plans for possible books two and three. So having those plans is good. But leave it at that.
Whatever you really work on next needs to be something whose sale is not dependent on the sale of the thing your shopping. Because then you're building a whole house of cards, investing more and more into something you might have to through in the trunk. And if you invest that much, you're going to become more and more petrified in letting go. Move on. To something new.
It's hard. It's supposed to be. Tom Hanks will tell you why.
Go get to it.
---
*- There's also the "time travel to seduce my mom" part of Time Enough For Love, and in general the creepiness of late-era Heinlein.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Heinlein's Fourth Rule
Continuing the discussion of Heinlein's Rules of Successful writing (First, Second and Third rules.)
So, now you've written something, you've finished it, and you've stopped fiddling with it. This can only mean it's time for one thing:
RULE #4: YOU MUST PUT THE WORK ON THE MARKET.
This rule ties into the third rule a lot. Because when it comes down to it, you've got to push the baby bird out of the nest and see if it's going to fly.
Because everything you've done up until this point is darn we'll useless if you don't. They aren't going to beat a path to your door to see if you've concocted some brilliance that they might want to publish.
This includes the ever painful act of querying an agent, which may be the most dreaded act a writer has to face. But let me tell you, querying in and of itself is pretty easy. It may almost be too easy. It's so easy that many agents receive over 500 queries a week. However, a good portion of those queries are more or less the equivalent of shouting baboons hurling their feces at an agent. So you've got to work extra hard to make your query be the thing that can be noticed above the din of baboon screeches and feces. There are only two steps to accomplish that:
1. Follow the submission guidelines.
2. Write a brilliant query.
Step one is very, very easy if you just pay a modicum of attention. Do not get lazy or sloppy with it. Every time. Or you might send a query addressed to "Dear".
Step two is harder, I won't deny it. Research query letters. Polish the hell out of it. This is the calling card for your novel, and you need to make it as strong as possible, clean and concise.
Concise is a big thing. I've had the opportunity to read many query letters, and many times I see-- especially with genre-- writers who want to explain EVERYTHING in the query. It really isn't necessary. You want to entice the agent to read the book, not summarize it.
Also: avoid negativity. Especially in regards to a. the genre you're querying and b. other writers in that genre. Apparently this sort of denigration ("Sci-fi is stupid, so I wrote a better sci-fi novel which will blow everyone away.") is common.
So: LIMITED TIME OFFER. Want to test the waters on your query letter? Send it to me at maresca at mrmaresca.com. I'll give you my take on it, either privately or publicly (aka, here on this blog).
So, now you've written something, you've finished it, and you've stopped fiddling with it. This can only mean it's time for one thing:
RULE #4: YOU MUST PUT THE WORK ON THE MARKET.
This rule ties into the third rule a lot. Because when it comes down to it, you've got to push the baby bird out of the nest and see if it's going to fly.
Because everything you've done up until this point is darn we'll useless if you don't. They aren't going to beat a path to your door to see if you've concocted some brilliance that they might want to publish.
This includes the ever painful act of querying an agent, which may be the most dreaded act a writer has to face. But let me tell you, querying in and of itself is pretty easy. It may almost be too easy. It's so easy that many agents receive over 500 queries a week. However, a good portion of those queries are more or less the equivalent of shouting baboons hurling their feces at an agent. So you've got to work extra hard to make your query be the thing that can be noticed above the din of baboon screeches and feces. There are only two steps to accomplish that:
1. Follow the submission guidelines.
2. Write a brilliant query.
Step one is very, very easy if you just pay a modicum of attention. Do not get lazy or sloppy with it. Every time. Or you might send a query addressed to "Dear
Step two is harder, I won't deny it. Research query letters. Polish the hell out of it. This is the calling card for your novel, and you need to make it as strong as possible, clean and concise.
Concise is a big thing. I've had the opportunity to read many query letters, and many times I see-- especially with genre-- writers who want to explain EVERYTHING in the query. It really isn't necessary. You want to entice the agent to read the book, not summarize it.
Also: avoid negativity. Especially in regards to a. the genre you're querying and b. other writers in that genre. Apparently this sort of denigration ("Sci-fi is stupid, so I wrote a better sci-fi novel which will blow everyone away.") is common.
So: LIMITED TIME OFFER. Want to test the waters on your query letter? Send it to me at maresca at mrmaresca.com. I'll give you my take on it, either privately or publicly (aka, here on this blog).
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Heinlein's Third Rule
Continuing from the previous posts (Heinlein's First and Second Rules), let's move on to Heinlein's Third-- and to some, the most controversial-- Rule to succeed at writing.
RULE #3: YOU MUST REFRAIN FROM REWRITING, EXCEPT TO EDITORIAL ORDER
Now, this makes it sound like Heinlein is talking about not editing your work at all, which I don't see as the case. Editing your work falls under, in this case, the Second Rule: finish the work. A rough draft that you've typed "the end" on is nice, but it isn't finished.
But at some point, you have to decide it's done, and further fiddling isn't serving any purpose beyond feeding your own anxiety. So the advice is less, "You shouldn't edit your work" but, "If you keep picking at it, it'll never heal."
So you have to reach a point of acceptance with the work, where you stop seeking one more bit of beta-reading approval, where you think if you just re-do this one part it'll be right, and then the full scope of your genius will be clear. But are you really making it better, or are you just rearranging the furniture?
And, again, this is a point where you have to do some triage of your own work. Are you constantly fiddling because it really is salvageable, or because you don't want to admit that you've invested too much into it already to put it in the trunk?
That's the dark side of this advice: some works, you have to stop messing with and decide to send it out into the world. Others, you have to stop messing with and put it away forever. Either way, once you reach that point, you have to stop poking until someone gives you a really good reason to.
RULE #3: YOU MUST REFRAIN FROM REWRITING, EXCEPT TO EDITORIAL ORDER
Now, this makes it sound like Heinlein is talking about not editing your work at all, which I don't see as the case. Editing your work falls under, in this case, the Second Rule: finish the work. A rough draft that you've typed "the end" on is nice, but it isn't finished.
But at some point, you have to decide it's done, and further fiddling isn't serving any purpose beyond feeding your own anxiety. So the advice is less, "You shouldn't edit your work" but, "If you keep picking at it, it'll never heal."
So you have to reach a point of acceptance with the work, where you stop seeking one more bit of beta-reading approval, where you think if you just re-do this one part it'll be right, and then the full scope of your genius will be clear. But are you really making it better, or are you just rearranging the furniture?
And, again, this is a point where you have to do some triage of your own work. Are you constantly fiddling because it really is salvageable, or because you don't want to admit that you've invested too much into it already to put it in the trunk?
That's the dark side of this advice: some works, you have to stop messing with and decide to send it out into the world. Others, you have to stop messing with and put it away forever. Either way, once you reach that point, you have to stop poking until someone gives you a really good reason to.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Heinlein's Second Rule
Continuing from the last post on the Heinlein rules writers need to follow for success, let's move on to his second rule:
RULE #2: YOU MUST FINISH WHAT YOU WRITE.
To which I say, yes. But a qualified yes.
Of course you have to finish what you're working on. An unfinished story-- especially an unfinished novel-- is nigh-useless unless you get hit with exceptional circumstances*, which are not something you can count on.
But here's the ugly truth that is sometimes hard to face: not every project is worth finishing. Sometimes you're just going down a blind alley, and continuing to work on it is the equivalent of flailing around in the dark instead of finding a light.
So here's the qualification: You must finish what you write, unless you determine that finishing it wasting your time.
HOWEVER, "wasting your time" is a LOT different from, "This is hard and I want to work on the shiny new thing I came up with". Like I said last time, write with discipline, and that means pushing through the hard work to the other side. And every one of the finished projects that I have shopping had that fallow period were the process of writing felt interminable.
There's a difference between smashing your way through the brick wall, and smashing your head against it. The really hard part is figuring out which one you're doing.
And most important, if you don't finish one thing that you write, you're not finishing that so you can finish something else. Because, yes, you must finish before you can move on to the next step.
---
*- For example, Scott Lynch sold Lies of Locke Lamora on the strength of excerpts of the unfinished novel he had posted online, mostly for the purpose of having friends give feedback. But because of a friend of a friend, that led to it getting the attention of a publisher. However, this was a lightning-strike confluence of luck and talent, and should not be one's battle plan.
RULE #2: YOU MUST FINISH WHAT YOU WRITE.
To which I say, yes. But a qualified yes.
Of course you have to finish what you're working on. An unfinished story-- especially an unfinished novel-- is nigh-useless unless you get hit with exceptional circumstances*, which are not something you can count on.
But here's the ugly truth that is sometimes hard to face: not every project is worth finishing. Sometimes you're just going down a blind alley, and continuing to work on it is the equivalent of flailing around in the dark instead of finding a light.
So here's the qualification: You must finish what you write, unless you determine that finishing it wasting your time.
HOWEVER, "wasting your time" is a LOT different from, "This is hard and I want to work on the shiny new thing I came up with". Like I said last time, write with discipline, and that means pushing through the hard work to the other side. And every one of the finished projects that I have shopping had that fallow period were the process of writing felt interminable.
There's a difference between smashing your way through the brick wall, and smashing your head against it. The really hard part is figuring out which one you're doing.
And most important, if you don't finish one thing that you write, you're not finishing that so you can finish something else. Because, yes, you must finish before you can move on to the next step.
---
*- For example, Scott Lynch sold Lies of Locke Lamora on the strength of excerpts of the unfinished novel he had posted online, mostly for the purpose of having friends give feedback. But because of a friend of a friend, that led to it getting the attention of a publisher. However, this was a lightning-strike confluence of luck and talent, and should not be one's battle plan.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Heinlein's First Rule
If you go to workshops-- especially SF/F related workshops-- or otherwise seek out Writing Advice, sooner or later you're going to hear Heinlein's Five Rules for getting published.
The rules are pretty strong, solid advice, but to a degree they have more bearing on a short-story market than a novel market. So I'll go over the five rules over the next few posts, and how I've integrated them into my process.
RULE #1: YOU MUST WRITE
You really can't argue with this, right? If you want to be a successful writer, writing is a given.
But what does this mean, in terms of actual action? Here's how I see it:
A. You must know what you're writing.
B. You must know how you write.
C. You must work with discipline.
Now, for the first part, knowing what you're writing: apply this as broadly as you want, but I think you need to know what your general plans and intentions are. Of course, things can get away with you: you can start writing a short story and discover a novel. Or you can start a novel and find it's only a novella. But the point is you've got to have some sort of plan when you sit down.
This ties directly to the second part: know how you write. Which is very different from "know how you think you write". For example, I'm a big outliner. This is what works for me, and I learned that through a process of discovery. I did a whole lot of, "I'm going to write and see where it goes" and where it went was nowhere slowly. Another example: I'm not a writer who can do the "just get it written, and then fix it in editing" thing. That isn't to say I don't edit or make a lot of changes when I do, but I see a rough draft as a foundation, and if I'm not building a strong foundation, it doesn't work for me. Another point: I get the most creative in later hours, usually after 10pm. I've accepted all these points as how I work best, and I've thrived by accepting that. So the advice I have there is: learn how you write, but look very critically at if that's really what works best, or if it's how you think you ought to work best.
Finally: write with discipline. Once you know what you're doing and how you do it best, sit down and get on it. "Write every day" is good advice, but it doesn't necessarily apply to everyone (see point B). But this is what I've found effective for me: when I'm working on a project (in rough draft), I set a daily writing goal. This is a low-balled goal, a minimum quota.* This is the, "Fine, you've earned the right to eat today" amount of writing. It's a C-. Now, many days I will write more than that quota-- and going over quota doesn't give me slack the next day. But by keeping that quota low, I keep myself from getting in a shame-spiral of failure. Because I know how I work, and if I "get behind" on even an arbitrarily set quota, part of my brain says, "We can't do it" and shuts down.
And before I learned properly how I write, I would do that to myself constantly. I would set an Unreasonable Writing Goal (I would even call it that to try and spur myself on), and then kick myself for not reaching it, and the whole thing would stall out.
Next time: Rule #2. But for now, it's time to get writing.
---
*- Currently for Banshee**, it's 500 words a day.
**- Of course, one thing that helps in having a solid outline-- I can jump all over the project and write crazily out-of-order, which makes a big difference when one section is stuck.
The rules are pretty strong, solid advice, but to a degree they have more bearing on a short-story market than a novel market. So I'll go over the five rules over the next few posts, and how I've integrated them into my process.
RULE #1: YOU MUST WRITE
You really can't argue with this, right? If you want to be a successful writer, writing is a given.
But what does this mean, in terms of actual action? Here's how I see it:
A. You must know what you're writing.
B. You must know how you write.
C. You must work with discipline.
Now, for the first part, knowing what you're writing: apply this as broadly as you want, but I think you need to know what your general plans and intentions are. Of course, things can get away with you: you can start writing a short story and discover a novel. Or you can start a novel and find it's only a novella. But the point is you've got to have some sort of plan when you sit down.
This ties directly to the second part: know how you write. Which is very different from "know how you think you write". For example, I'm a big outliner. This is what works for me, and I learned that through a process of discovery. I did a whole lot of, "I'm going to write and see where it goes" and where it went was nowhere slowly. Another example: I'm not a writer who can do the "just get it written, and then fix it in editing" thing. That isn't to say I don't edit or make a lot of changes when I do, but I see a rough draft as a foundation, and if I'm not building a strong foundation, it doesn't work for me. Another point: I get the most creative in later hours, usually after 10pm. I've accepted all these points as how I work best, and I've thrived by accepting that. So the advice I have there is: learn how you write, but look very critically at if that's really what works best, or if it's how you think you ought to work best.
Finally: write with discipline. Once you know what you're doing and how you do it best, sit down and get on it. "Write every day" is good advice, but it doesn't necessarily apply to everyone (see point B). But this is what I've found effective for me: when I'm working on a project (in rough draft), I set a daily writing goal. This is a low-balled goal, a minimum quota.* This is the, "Fine, you've earned the right to eat today" amount of writing. It's a C-. Now, many days I will write more than that quota-- and going over quota doesn't give me slack the next day. But by keeping that quota low, I keep myself from getting in a shame-spiral of failure. Because I know how I work, and if I "get behind" on even an arbitrarily set quota, part of my brain says, "We can't do it" and shuts down.
And before I learned properly how I write, I would do that to myself constantly. I would set an Unreasonable Writing Goal (I would even call it that to try and spur myself on), and then kick myself for not reaching it, and the whole thing would stall out.
Next time: Rule #2. But for now, it's time to get writing.
---
*- Currently for Banshee**, it's 500 words a day.
**- Of course, one thing that helps in having a solid outline-- I can jump all over the project and write crazily out-of-order, which makes a big difference when one section is stuck.
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