How to Get Good at Something
—
August 27, 2012
(7
comments)
Enjoyed this post? Stay caught up on future posts by subscribing here.
Filed under:
art of writing,
writing tips
"Hey, I've got this idea for a book. Maybe you could write it for me..."
—
August 24, 2012
(20
comments)
Enjoyed this post? Stay caught up on future posts by subscribing here.
Filed under:
charts and statistics,
writing process,
writing tips
First Impact: Out of the Water by Deniz Bevan
—
August 22, 2012
(11
comments)
Time for another First Impact critique. Remember, if you share your thoughts in the comments, you are eligible to win a 10-page critique from Tricia Lawrence of Erin Murphy Literary Agency. Your critique doesn't have to be long, just useful!
To continue this feature, we need stuff to critique! Send your queries, first pages, etc. to firstimpactAE@gmail.com. Details here.
A big thank you to long-time reader Deniz for submitting the query for her historical romance, OUT OF THE WATER. (Also thank you for coming in well under the 300-word limit. My wife and children thank you.)
Keep in mind all this is just my opinion. If it doesn't feel right to you, ignore it. Any in-line comments are to the right, overall thoughts at the end.
Query Letter
Yet her family refuses to accept this man of a
different faith. Constantinople was meant to be her family's refuge, but
when janissaries arrest her father and brother, Rosa and Baha risk
their lives to rescue them. Together they will prove that their love can
withstand their differences... if the Grand Vizier doesn't throw them
both in the dungeons first.
I
have lived and worked in Turkey, and my non-fiction work, including
travel articles, book reviews and personal essays, has most recently
appeared in the trilingual (English, French, and Turkish) newspaper
Bizim Anadolu.
Initial drafts of OUT OF THE WATER were revised through
participation in author Barbara Rogan's invitation-only Next Level
Workshop.
To continue this feature, we need stuff to critique! Send your queries, first pages, etc. to firstimpactAE@gmail.com. Details here.
A big thank you to long-time reader Deniz for submitting the query for her historical romance, OUT OF THE WATER. (Also thank you for coming in well under the 300-word limit. My wife and children thank you.)
Keep in mind all this is just my opinion. If it doesn't feel right to you, ignore it. Any in-line comments are to the right, overall thoughts at the end.
Query Letter
Maybe mention the year right away? Not sure how I feel about this final line. |
Eighteen-year-old Rosa becomes separated from her family as they
flee their Spanish homeland, and the Inquisition. Now her one hope of
reaching Constantinople and reuniting with her family lies with a
stranger, Baha, an artist returning to the Ottoman Empire. As they
travel together, Rosa's drive to find her loved ones is matched by a
deepening desire for the man at her side.
I think we skipped the bit where she reunited with her family. Again, not sure about the last line. |
OUT OF THE WATER is complete at 115,000 words. I hope you find my 15th-Century historical romance a good fit for your interests.
Italicize the newspaper title? |
Not sure whether this is necessary. |
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Deniz Bevan
Adam's Thoughts
You know, Deniz, this feels really strong to me. You've got a strong character, goal, obstacles, and -- if not a sadistic choice -- at least very strong stakes. I'm just going to explain a couple of my comments up there, then let the commenters at it (who, of course, may have an entirely different opinion).
Last line of the 1st paragraph. I'm not sure what strikes me as off about this line. It's minor. Maybe it's the abstract comparison of her drive and her desire, when I want something more specific (but how can you get specific about love? I don't know).
Last line of the 2nd paragraph. I didn't realize it at first, but I think what I'm missing here is a choice. Their goal and stakes are strong (save her family, possibly die trying), but it's not as compelling as a sadistic choice. I kind of assume she's going to save them, so what's going to entice me to read on at this point, to say, "How the heck is she going to do that?"
The more I think about it, the more I think that's the big lack. Everything else is here.
As for nitpicking the bio paragraphs, they look pretty solid to me. I'm very much of the "less is more" philosophy of bio paragraphs, so I do question things like whether you need to talk about your non-fiction work (though writing for a Turkish newspaper is cool) or whether agents are likely to care what workshops were used to revised it (even prestigious ones). Your story is strong enough for me that I don't think you need those things, but it's your call.
What do the rest of you guys think? Does it need a choice? Am I being too picky about the bios? Should "15th-century" be hyphenated or not? (I'm kidding. The answer to the last question is "yes.")
Enjoyed this post? Stay caught up on future posts by subscribing here.
Filed under:
critiques,
first impact
Connecting With a Character (and Dr. Horrible)
—
August 20, 2012
(7
comments)
One of the most important things we need to do as writers is help the reader connect with the character. But what the heck does that mean?
It means the character is sympathetic. We like them and want them to succeed. They don't even have to be a good guy. They can be a villian, like Dr. Horrible.
Dr. Horrible is one of the most sympathetic villains I've ever seen (and I won't spoil the series except to say he gets even more sympathetic). What makes us root for him can work for any character, good or bad.
THEY'RE LIKEABLE
Dr. Horrible: "Ok, dude, you are not my nemesis.... I'm just trying to change the world, ok? I don't have time for a grudge match with every poser in a parka. Besides, there's kids in that park..."
The traits we like in real people work just as well for our characters. They're honest, nice, noble, brave, humble, funny. They play fair and sacrifice for others.
Dr. Horrible isn't all of these things, but he strives not to kill. He's self-deprecating. He really is working for the people (even if he sees those people as sheep, sometimes).
THEY EXCEL AT SOMETHING
Dr. Horrible: "I got a letter from Bad Horse."
Moist: "That's so hard core. Bad Horse is legend. He rules the League with an iron hoof."
They might be pathetic or ignorant or victims of everything. They might not even succeed, but a character that excels at something is a character worth rooting for. Even if Dr. Horrible's inventions don't work perfectly, the fact is he has a (mostly) working transmatter ray, freeze ray, and he can remotely hijack an armored van. That's pretty awesome, if you ask me.
THEY HAVE A GOAL
Dr. Horrible: "It's not about making money, it's about taking money. Destroying the status quo because the status is not . . . quo. The world is a mess and I just . . . need to rule it."
If we're going to root for the character, we need to know what they're striving for. It's hard to cheer from the sidelines if you have no idea how one scores a goal.
And it needs to be a goal we agree with. Ruling the world may not be the most sympathetic vision, but Dr. Horrible's motivation certainly is.
THEY FAIL
Dr. Horrible: "[reading fan mail] 'Where are the gold bars you were supposed to pull out of that bank vault with your Transmatter Ray? Obviously, it failed or it would be in the papers.' Well, no. They're not gonna say anything in the press, but behold! Transported from there to here! [pokes a bag of gold liquid] The molecules tend to . . . shift during the transmatter, uh, event. But they were transported in bar form..."
Once we're rooting for them, we feel every failure, and every step back makes the victory that much more awesome.
No, I'm not going to tell you whether Dr. Horrible succeeds. You have to watch it.
Seriously, go watch it.
It means the character is sympathetic. We like them and want them to succeed. They don't even have to be a good guy. They can be a villian, like Dr. Horrible.
Dr. Horrible is one of the most sympathetic villains I've ever seen (and I won't spoil the series except to say he gets even more sympathetic). What makes us root for him can work for any character, good or bad.
THEY'RE LIKEABLE
Dr. Horrible: "Ok, dude, you are not my nemesis.... I'm just trying to change the world, ok? I don't have time for a grudge match with every poser in a parka. Besides, there's kids in that park..."
The traits we like in real people work just as well for our characters. They're honest, nice, noble, brave, humble, funny. They play fair and sacrifice for others.
Dr. Horrible isn't all of these things, but he strives not to kill. He's self-deprecating. He really is working for the people (even if he sees those people as sheep, sometimes).
THEY EXCEL AT SOMETHING
Dr. Horrible: "I got a letter from Bad Horse."
Moist: "That's so hard core. Bad Horse is legend. He rules the League with an iron hoof."
They might be pathetic or ignorant or victims of everything. They might not even succeed, but a character that excels at something is a character worth rooting for. Even if Dr. Horrible's inventions don't work perfectly, the fact is he has a (mostly) working transmatter ray, freeze ray, and he can remotely hijack an armored van. That's pretty awesome, if you ask me.
THEY HAVE A GOAL
Dr. Horrible: "It's not about making money, it's about taking money. Destroying the status quo because the status is not . . . quo. The world is a mess and I just . . . need to rule it."
If we're going to root for the character, we need to know what they're striving for. It's hard to cheer from the sidelines if you have no idea how one scores a goal.
And it needs to be a goal we agree with. Ruling the world may not be the most sympathetic vision, but Dr. Horrible's motivation certainly is.
THEY FAIL
Dr. Horrible: "[reading fan mail] 'Where are the gold bars you were supposed to pull out of that bank vault with your Transmatter Ray? Obviously, it failed or it would be in the papers.' Well, no. They're not gonna say anything in the press, but behold! Transported from there to here! [pokes a bag of gold liquid] The molecules tend to . . . shift during the transmatter, uh, event. But they were transported in bar form..."
Once we're rooting for them, we feel every failure, and every step back makes the victory that much more awesome.
No, I'm not going to tell you whether Dr. Horrible succeeds. You have to watch it.
Seriously, go watch it.
Enjoyed this post? Stay caught up on future posts by subscribing here.
Filed under:
geekery,
writing tips
A Tale of Two Johns
—
August 17, 2012
(9
comments)
(remix)
This is an old story from the computer game world, but there are lessons here for everyone, even writers.
In 1990, id Software was formed by two men: John Carmack and John Romero. Over the next 6 years, id redefined PC gaming and the first-person shooter genre with games like Wolfenstein 3D, Doom, and Quake. Romero is even credited with coining the term "deathmatch."
(If you have no idea what I'm talking about to this point, here's the summary: Carmack and Romero made really good games; they were kind of a big deal).
The PC gaming world was theirs. Carmack licensed the Quake engine to multiple game developers -- including Valve, who used it to make the even more groundbreaking Half Life. Professional gaming took off with QuakeCon. Everyone wanted to be id.
(Translation: They made lots of money).
But after Quake hit the shelves in 1996, Romero quit (actually he was fired, but he was going to quit anyway). His plans were ambitious, and he felt Carmack and the others were stifling him. Carmack, meanwhile, felt that Romero wasn't realistic.
(The two Johns parted ways).
Carmack -- the technical powerhouse of id -- pushed the envelope with Quake II and Quake III: Arena. Good games, well-received, and very, very pretty. But where they pushed things technically, their general design stayed the same. To the point where Quake III was little more than a deathmatch arena with no substance.
(Carmack's games were technically beautiful, but not very compelling).
Romero,
meanwhile, now had the freedom to be as ambitious as he wanted. He
proudly announced his masterpiece, Daikatana, would hit the shelves by
Christmas the next year. They would use the Quake engine, so the
technical aspect would be taken care of, leaving him and his designers
only to design.
(Romero thought he didn't need Carmack's technical expertise).
Christmas came and went with no Daikatana. Carmack had released Quake II by then, and Romero realized his masterpiece looked dated. He grabbed the new engine, not realizing it was so different from the one he knew it would require an entire rewrite of his precious game.
(Romero realized technology mattered. He tried to catch up and failed, badly).
Three years later, Daikatana had become a joke. It was made worse when the game was released with outdated graphics, crappy AI, and unforgivable loading times.
(Romero's game was super late, ugly, and impossible to play).
Carmack thought that technical expertise made a game. Romero thought it was creativity and design. The truth is both are necessary to make a quality game.
It's the same in writing (told you there was a lesson). Technical expertise -- your skill with prose, structure, and grammar -- can make for a well-written story, but one that is thoroughly boring to read.
Creative design -- compelling plot, characters, and conflict -- can create a brilliant story, but if the technical aspects aren't there, it will be an unreadable mess.
Don't sacrifice one for the other. You need both to succeed.
This is an old story from the computer game world, but there are lessons here for everyone, even writers.
In 1990, id Software was formed by two men: John Carmack and John Romero. Over the next 6 years, id redefined PC gaming and the first-person shooter genre with games like Wolfenstein 3D, Doom, and Quake. Romero is even credited with coining the term "deathmatch."
(If you have no idea what I'm talking about to this point, here's the summary: Carmack and Romero made really good games; they were kind of a big deal).
The PC gaming world was theirs. Carmack licensed the Quake engine to multiple game developers -- including Valve, who used it to make the even more groundbreaking Half Life. Professional gaming took off with QuakeCon. Everyone wanted to be id.
(Translation: They made lots of money).
But after Quake hit the shelves in 1996, Romero quit (actually he was fired, but he was going to quit anyway). His plans were ambitious, and he felt Carmack and the others were stifling him. Carmack, meanwhile, felt that Romero wasn't realistic.
(The two Johns parted ways).
Carmack -- the technical powerhouse of id -- pushed the envelope with Quake II and Quake III: Arena. Good games, well-received, and very, very pretty. But where they pushed things technically, their general design stayed the same. To the point where Quake III was little more than a deathmatch arena with no substance.
(Carmack's games were technically beautiful, but not very compelling).
Romero's company released this ad months before Christmas. |
(Romero thought he didn't need Carmack's technical expertise).
Christmas came and went with no Daikatana. Carmack had released Quake II by then, and Romero realized his masterpiece looked dated. He grabbed the new engine, not realizing it was so different from the one he knew it would require an entire rewrite of his precious game.
(Romero realized technology mattered. He tried to catch up and failed, badly).
Three years later, Daikatana had become a joke. It was made worse when the game was released with outdated graphics, crappy AI, and unforgivable loading times.
(Romero's game was super late, ugly, and impossible to play).
Carmack thought that technical expertise made a game. Romero thought it was creativity and design. The truth is both are necessary to make a quality game.
It's the same in writing (told you there was a lesson). Technical expertise -- your skill with prose, structure, and grammar -- can make for a well-written story, but one that is thoroughly boring to read.
Creative design -- compelling plot, characters, and conflict -- can create a brilliant story, but if the technical aspects aren't there, it will be an unreadable mess.
Don't sacrifice one for the other. You need both to succeed.
Enjoyed this post? Stay caught up on future posts by subscribing here.
Filed under:
computers,
geekery,
writing tips
First Impact: Dead Reckoning by Aline Carriere
—
August 15, 2012
(8
comments)
Time for another First Impact critique. Remember, if you share your thoughts in the comments, you are eligible to win a 10-page critique from Tricia Lawrence of Erin Murphy Literary Agency. Your critique doesn't have to be long, just useful!
If you want your material critiqued, send it to firstimpactAE@gmail.com. Details here.
Thank you to Aline for submitting the first page of her erotic historical adventure novel, Dead Reckoning. (Don't worry if erotic isn't your thing -- it isn't mine either, but the page below is totally PG).
Keep in mind all this is just my opinion. If it doesn't feel right to you, ignore it. Any in-line comments are to the right, overall thoughts at the end.
First Page
(Author's Note: The reference to Flint from "Treasure Island" is intentional as "Treasure Island" is an integral part of the book.)
The pirates found Anne below androughly brought dragged [or some stronger verb] her to the deck of the ship. They pawed at her and pulled at her clothes; her hair unraveled and fell in golden curls on her shoulders. When she pushed their hands away, others took their place.
“Here comes Flint,” one of the men said and they stopped their jostling. “Look what we found below, Cap’n.” The men parted and revealed Anne disheveled, confused and trembling.
“Where is Captain Cole?” she demanded. Flint glared at her with piercing green eyes and she looked down.No sooner had she done so, he He lifted her chin with his hand and forced her to confront him. Flint was a name even she had heard whispered in fear – a pirate who was a curse to the civilized world and a legend among pirates. She fought to meet his stare. She did not want to appear weak, but her body betrayed her. She could not stop from shaking and tears formed in her eyes. She sensed his command and strength and in horror realized he was her only hope.
“Your Captain and those of the crew who would not join us are dead.” Flint took in the struggle within her and dropped his hand. She did not look down, but rather at the men around her as though to challenge them.
“Gregor, take her to the great cabin,” Flint said, “and the rest of you sort this mess before I get my whip.” He walked past her without looking at her again.
Anne Davis, newly turned eighteen, was had been a passenger bound from Boston to Bristol aboard the Merrilee on a glorious April day in 17 – with a cargo of molasses, spirits and rum. She had been on her way to meet her fiancé for the first time across the ocean;, an arrangement she looked forward to with dread and hope, and which had now been replaced with considerably more dread and considerably less hope.
Adam's Thoughts
If I read erotic novels, I would absolutely keep reading this. It's well written, with voice, tension, and two great characters from the start. We learn a lot about Anne even before the final paragraph, just in the way she responds to Flint with both fear and attempted challenge, and in how "even she" had heard Flint's name.
And Flint, too, is an interesting character. He steps onto the stage with authority, but shows a hint of compassion as he sees her fear and chooses to drop his hand. It's such a tiny gesture, but it speaks a lot.
I honestly don't have a lot to say about this. The only thing is I'd be careful of sticking inside Anne's POV. There were just a couple of phrases here and there that threw me out of her head for a moment: when the men "revealed" Anne in para. 2, and then in para. 4 when Flint takes in her struggle (made me wonder how she knew he was doing that) and again when looks at the crew "as though" to challenge them (doesn't she know whether she's challenging them or not? I'd say something like "in a weak attempt at challenging them" or something).
But that's me being nit-picky. You really did a great job with this, Aline, as far as I'm concerned.
What do the rest of you think?
If you want your material critiqued, send it to firstimpactAE@gmail.com. Details here.
Thank you to Aline for submitting the first page of her erotic historical adventure novel, Dead Reckoning. (Don't worry if erotic isn't your thing -- it isn't mine either, but the page below is totally PG).
Keep in mind all this is just my opinion. If it doesn't feel right to you, ignore it. Any in-line comments are to the right, overall thoughts at the end.
First Page
(Author's Note: The reference to Flint from "Treasure Island" is intentional as "Treasure Island" is an integral part of the book.)
The pirates found Anne below and
“Here comes Flint,” one of the men said and they stopped their jostling. “Look what we found below, Cap’n.” The men parted and revealed Anne disheveled, confused and trembling.
“Where is Captain Cole?” she demanded. Flint glared at her with piercing green eyes and she looked down.
A couple phrases here made me question whose POV we're in. |
What mess is he talking about? |
“Gregor, take her to the great cabin,” Flint said, “and the rest of you sort this mess before I get my whip.” He walked past her without looking at her again.
In the last sentence, I just think the humor hits better if 'considerably' is applied only to the second one. |
Adam's Thoughts
If I read erotic novels, I would absolutely keep reading this. It's well written, with voice, tension, and two great characters from the start. We learn a lot about Anne even before the final paragraph, just in the way she responds to Flint with both fear and attempted challenge, and in how "even she" had heard Flint's name.
And Flint, too, is an interesting character. He steps onto the stage with authority, but shows a hint of compassion as he sees her fear and chooses to drop his hand. It's such a tiny gesture, but it speaks a lot.
I honestly don't have a lot to say about this. The only thing is I'd be careful of sticking inside Anne's POV. There were just a couple of phrases here and there that threw me out of her head for a moment: when the men "revealed" Anne in para. 2, and then in para. 4 when Flint takes in her struggle (made me wonder how she knew he was doing that) and again when looks at the crew "as though" to challenge them (doesn't she know whether she's challenging them or not? I'd say something like "in a weak attempt at challenging them" or something).
But that's me being nit-picky. You really did a great job with this, Aline, as far as I'm concerned.
What do the rest of you think?
Enjoyed this post? Stay caught up on future posts by subscribing here.
Filed under:
critiques,
first impact
In Favor of Drawing Maps
—
August 13, 2012
(9
comments)
You guys know I love maps. And though I sometimes resort to quick and dirty tricks to make one, mostly my maps are a labor of love -- one I spend way too many hours on.
It may surprise you, then, that I almost never draw them.
I know, right? I'm willing to draw cheap puns, but not a map for my beloved world. What I usually do is find a map generator that lets me specify parameters and hit the random button a bunch of times until I find something I like. (If that's your style, btw, this program might suit you just fine).
I thought drawing a map would feel artificial. Like it wouldn't look like a map, or it would be too obvious that I created geographical features just to support my story. I thought I needed a map to be given to me, to "discover" the world in a more natural way.
So I would spend hours and hours searching for a generator and clicking "Generate Random Map" until I found one I thought I could work with. Not realizing that I knew what I wanted to work with the whole time and could've sketched it up in a few minutes.
I honestly thought I was saving myself time. The truth (that I'm only now seeing) is that I was afraid of doing it wrong.
When you draw your own map:
I don't know why I thought map-making was any different.
Have you ever made your own maps? How did you go about it, and what would you do differently next time?
It may surprise you, then, that I almost never draw them.
I know, right? I'm willing to draw cheap puns, but not a map for my beloved world. What I usually do is find a map generator that lets me specify parameters and hit the random button a bunch of times until I find something I like. (If that's your style, btw, this program might suit you just fine).
I thought drawing a map would feel artificial. Like it wouldn't look like a map, or it would be too obvious that I created geographical features just to support my story. I thought I needed a map to be given to me, to "discover" the world in a more natural way.
So I would spend hours and hours searching for a generator and clicking "Generate Random Map" until I found one I thought I could work with. Not realizing that I knew what I wanted to work with the whole time and could've sketched it up in a few minutes.
I honestly thought I was saving myself time. The truth (that I'm only now seeing) is that I was afraid of doing it wrong.
When you draw your own map:
- It's faster.
- You get exactly what you want.
- You're reminded just how big a world really is.
- It doesn't have to be pretty, just good enough for you to write from.
- You don't have to be able to draw a straight line. In fact, you shouldn't ever.
- You get to revise.
I don't know why I thought map-making was any different.
Have you ever made your own maps? How did you go about it, and what would you do differently next time?
Enjoyed this post? Stay caught up on future posts by subscribing here.
Filed under:
world building
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)