LIFE IS SHORT. . .PLAY HARD

One of the tasks I've been working on while my beta readers are "engrossed" in School Spirit, has been to compile a list of agents who read Godtalk, my last young adult novel, and prioritize who I was going to send School Spirit to first. These would be the people who said in their rejections something like, "This doesn't quite work for me, but if you ever have anything else. . ."

But a funny thing happened on the way to the Wi-Fi.

Through a combination of research and happenstance (and the following of a number agents' blogs), I discovered two new agents who have excellent reputations and who I felt might be a good fit for my writing and personality. Both of these agents, as it turns out, write very interesting, humorous, and user-friendly blogs.

The question, then, was this: Should I wait until my readers finish SS and work through another draft or two until it's ready to go out and, consequently, not contact these two new agents until--at best--sometime around November or December? Or should I give them a shot at Godtalk and, if they are even the least bit interested, send the School Spirit stuff by the end of the year?

One indicator, I thought, would be the quality of Godtalk, a manuscript I haven't looked at objectively for probably a year or so. So I dug it out, blew off the dust, and opened it up. And it held up. I was happy with the quality of the writing, knew the plot was well-structured, and the opening (the "hook," as they say) was better than I remembered. It's funny what three or four peer responses and five drafts can do!

So I thought, "Why not?" What do I have to lose?" Let's see what they have to say. Godtalk is a book that is very close to my heart and is just sitting there, anyway. If I thought that the book sucked, I would have left it in the closet, but the most common complaint I kept getting was that it was "just too religious." Since one of the two agents' website says that "quirky is good," I'm hoping that makes Godtalk a good fit for her. So I just finished sending out two queries and the first five pages, per their submissions guidelines. Wish me luck.

The bottom line, I figured, is as Nike once said, "Life's short. Play hard."

I'll keep you posted.

PEER RESPONSE

This blog hasn't heard a lot from me lately because, in terms of School Spirit, we've been in hiatus mode. The reason for this is that I finally revised the manuscript enough to feel comfortable sending it out into the world. Consequently, I sent the manuscript to a good writer friend of mine (her debut young adult novel comes out in a few weeks) and she has kindly agreed to read it and give me some feedback. I also gave another copy to one of my regular readers, a fellow teacher in my English department who has (also kindly) read every book length manuscript I've written in the last ten years and done it for nothing more than a few twelve packs of Pepsis and a couple jars of Red Vines.

And that's only because I insisted.

So, for now, it's time for to sit back and wait.

And plan the next novel.

DANNY-ISMS

In my high school drama class, the teacher used to watch our scenes and monologues and comment on what she called our "-isms," which were our subconscious behaviors that we were completely unaware that we were doing while on stage. These actions, tics, quirks, and nervous behaviors identified us as individuals and interfered with our total transformation into whatever character we were trying to portray. To emphasize the point, she attached our first name to the "-ism." Consquently, my subconscious behaviors became "Dannyisms."

In writing, we also have our "-isms." These would be expressions, themes, patterns, fall back beats and character actions that identify our style. Recently, I marked up a manuscript for a writer friend of mine and noted how often her characters swallowed. During scenes of dialogue, the character were always swallowing. In that novel, that was her "-ism." I'm not picking on that writer; we all have our "-isms" and we do not realize we are doing them. In a 200-plus page manuscript, it's hard to keep track of every last little action we give our characters, especially in the heat of composition. That's what peer readers are for.

In reading the second draft of School Spirit, I noticed many of my Dannyisms. Namely, that people were always "exhaling." "He looked at her and exhaled." "I exhaled to release my tension." "She exhaled in relief." People were also always having "lights go on" when they realized something. "A light went on in his head." "The light went on in her head and then he realized what happened." And a variation: "A light came up in her eyes and then she knew." Or the like. It's okay to put these in a rough draft to keep the story moving. But eventually, we must go back and fix them. As a result, during a quick polish, after the second draft of SS, I tried to locate and surgically alter most or all of my "-isms."

The point here is that during at least one draft, it's important that we search for our "-isms," and kill them. Well, not all of them. There's nothing inherently wrong with swallowing, exhaling, or having lights go on. We don't need to kill them all. But if they appear as a noticeable pattern in an entire manuscript, we must hope that some compassionate reader will point them out (with an eye to helping us improve our novel) and then we must have the courage to make a pass through the book and exhange some of them with new, fresher, and more original actions and behaviors for our characters.

That care and attention to detail will not only improve our overall writing skill and make our novel better, but cannot help but increase our chances of getting an agent or finding our onto the shelves of the local Barnes and Noble.

At least that's the plan.

AND THEY'RE OFF. . .

I've certainly heard enough in the past couple years, whether in reading books on writing or attending conferences, about how important it is for a book to come out of the gate strong and introduce its conflict right away and, in the case of YA, often on page one, sometimes paragraph one.

Hence my dilemma: how do I provide enough exposition to introduce the characters and allow the reader to develop some connection with them before hitting the reader with the main conflict. In this case, I do mention what the conflict is in the first line just to insure the reader hears about it, but what we might call the "inciting moment" doesn't actually occur until late on page 5. Is that too late in the game?

My very real fear is that the first four pages are all throat clearing and "telling" (as opposed to "showing), and that my story should start on page 5, right at the inciting moment. But if I do that, I know I will not have provided enough of a glimpse into the characters so that the reader will care about them.

What do I do?

I know there's no one answer, but maybe the one or two people who read this rag might have a suggestion or two?

I'm open.

ROUND TWO

This past week was the first week of summer school. True to form, I spent the forty-five to fifty minutes before class begins at the keyboard again; in this case, working on the second draft of School Spirit. I was also lucky enough to bring home roughly fifty pages each night last week and red pencil them at the kitchen table (sometimes, when time permitted, giving them a few go rounds), so that I could return in the morning ready to edit. On great nights, I typed up the new stuff and e-mailed it to myself, so all I had to do was cut and paste in the morning and then was able to edit even more and get even further in the draft.

Very exciting stuff.

Revision is a very interesting process to me and, in truth and, typically, I enjoy it more than the actual composition. What I always say is that writers are like sculptors in that they take a block of clay (for writers, the rough draft) and carve out something that looks like art. The only difference, I've always pointed out, is that, unlike sculptors, writers have to start by creating their own block of clay (the rough draft).

Carving away at that block of clay, for me, meant refiguring the first fifty pages. Fifty pages is a good unit for a number of reasons. Fifty is a nice round number, for starters, but it is also the opening of your book (which should be flawless) and is frequently is the section that agents ask for as a partial. Consequently, getting the first fifty into fighting shape is critically important.

Here's how it went for me: a scene that I wrote two weeks into the process--give or take--and was situated in the middle of chapter three, was moved to the beginning and became my opening scene. The opening scene became the beginning of chapter two, and a scene with the protagonist's family that appeared in chapter four was surgically altered and moved to the end of chapter two. And so on.

At this point, chapter one alone has gone through at least fifteen separate drafts and I've used a ton of toner and paper both at school and at home trying to polish the first six pages to a high sheen. First, to make certain it's good writing and second to insure that it will work as the opening (more on that later).

The bottom line is that this process has gone much faster and more smoothly than I ever could have anticipated, due in part to the time I had to work at home. I should actually be finished with the second draft early next week. One more quick pass to tighten up some time line issues and I'll be in the market for Beta readers.

Come back here. I see you trying to sneak out the back. You can't get away that easily.

THE CAREER NOVELIST OR, DONALD MAASS II

I noticed in the "About the Author" section of Donald Maass' book The Fire in Fiction, that he offers a free downloadable version of his book The Career Novelist, that came out about ten years ago, and which is now available on the Donald Maass Literary Agency website (www.maassagency.com).

I investigated the possibility and here's what I discovered:

• Once again, Donald Maass gives an insightful, considered, and highly informed look into the agenting/publishing/authoring business. His writing, as always, is stunningly down-to-earth and easy to access, and often more funny than you might expect.
• Maass gives insider secrets away as if they are candy and helps writers who want to create novels over the long haul develop a healthy self-image, and workable business/career plan, and a college graduate's understanding of the industry.
• This possibly out-of-print book is probably not available in stores and was listed new on eBay starting at $79.99 (!), but is yours free for the cost of the paper and toner to print it (although it is 268 pages).
  
• This book, along with Maass' other books has, without a doubt, made me a better and better-informed writer.
  

Download this book now.

DONALD MAASS, YOU DA BOSS!

In another blog I extolled the virtues of a number of writing books that I said were the equivalent of a fiction writing MFA and at a fraction of the cost. They were Bob Mayer's The Novel Writer's Toolkit, Noah Lukeman's The First Five Pages, Renni Browne and Dave King's Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, and Donald Maass' Writing the Breakout Novel, both book and companion workbook.

Well, Donald Maass has done it again. At my local Barnes and Noble recently, I picked up his latest manual on fiction writing called The Fire in Fiction, and it was--bar none--the best (and most applicable) book on writing excellent novels I've ever read. It sounds impossible, but Maass literally takes what I would call the "intangibles," the elements of great novels that seem to be just a part of a writer's magic, and then says, "Here's how you do that." Elements like micro-tension, first lines/last lines, creating unique and compelling minor characters, and imbuing setting with emotion and resonance are discussed in a very accessible manner and, amazingly, every chapter is followed by clear and helpful exercises to apply to a current manuscript. In this perfect balance of theory and practice, author and agent Maass has given fiction writers a manual they cannot ignore. And considering his history and experience in the publishing industry, this is a man to listen to.

I CANNOT wait to tackle the second draft of School Spirit having learned these new techniques from The Fire in Fiction. Just by reading it, I know I've become a better writer. In short, this is stunning stuff.

Go now to your local bookstore and pick up Donald Maass' The Fire in Fiction and become a better writer, possibly by the time you reach the checkout counter.

Perhaps I was unclear. I mean, stop reading this pathetic attempt at written expression, do not pause to turn off your computer, and go to the bookstore and buy is book!

Right now!

Ahem. If you're a serious novelist, you won't be sorry.

(And if you aren't a serious novelist, it just might make you one).