Writers on Writing: Neil Gaiman

For today’s “Writers on Writing”, I’m turning to another contemporary genre writer, Neil Gaiman. Gaiman is a popular English author, best known for his novels Stardust, Coraline, The Graveyard Book, and American Gods, as well as his comic book series The Sandman. He has won the Bram Stoker, Hugo, and Nebula awards and the Carnegie and Newbery medals. His novel, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, was even voted Best Book of the Year in the 2013 British National Book Awards. His book Stardust was adapted into a film in 2007, and American Gods has been adapted into a television series by Starz with Gaiman himself as an executive producer.

For more information on this well-received author, be sure to visit his Wikipedia page.


Image retrieved from Buzzfeed

Unfortunately, I haven’t read much of Gaiman’s works. In fact, I’ve only read Stardust. I haven’t even watched any of the movies based on his work or the American Gods TV series. Even so, I admire the man and I wouldn’t be doing the fantasy, science fiction, or horror genres justice if I didn’t talk about him.

Gaiman, like most writers, has commented on the art of writing. In this post, I want to focus on a remark he made about handling feedback/criticism.

Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.

–Neil Gaiman

I find this quote very interesting as I believe it can be interpreted in two slightly different ways:

  1. Writers should be open to criticism because they very likely see something that you don’t. However, if they try and direct how you fix the problem too forcefully, their interference won’t really help because it will get in the way of your creativity and art.
  2. When critics say something is wrong or doesn’t work for them, they’re right because it’s their own opinion. You have to choose whether to act on it or not. However, if they try and force their revisions onto you, they’ll be wrong because it’s not your vision if you just follow their suggestions blindly.

No matter which of these interpretations you agree with, the second half of the statement remains the same: do not take critics too seriously if they insist on pushing their specific revisions on you.

Writers can be horrible about receiving feedback. Even if we don’t show it, we take it all pretty personally. I know I do. Feedback, even that with the best intentions, can discourage writers from that work or the craft altogether. Or worse, we ignore good feedback because we’re too attached to what we wrote originally.

Still, we need to know how readers receive our writing. After all, once it’s written and published, it no longer matters what you meant to say; all that matters is what readers think you said. It’s better to know ahead of time and adjust accordingly if we don’t like how our beta readers interpret it. More importantly, they can let us know where we make mental leaps that do not seem like leaps to us. Often we just don’t know when something isn’t as obvious as we see it.

Unfortunately, following feedback too closely could lead to a big mess of writing that even we can’t stand to read anymore. In particular, if we blindly believe when someone says that this is wrong with the draft and that we should do exactly this in order to fix it, we could be making a huge mistake and not realize it. Specific advice for how to fix a specific problem is too rigid for writing. Your writing is a growing piece of art, almost alive, in a way. If you let someone else to tamper so closely without any boundaries, they might coerce you into snipping off a life-sustaining root that only you knew about.

Of course, I don’t think Gaiman means to ignore them entirely. After all, he said that they are almost always wrong when they tell you exactly what is wrong in your writing and how to fix it. You should always keep your mind open to feedback. Regardless, take the second kind of feedback with a grain of salt. The critics cannot know your whole vision for your work; only you do. You know what it should grow into, and so you should follow your instincts about the work and use feedback more as…guidelines.

What is your interpretation of Gaiman’s advice? How should we handle feedback that points out specific problems and gives specific solutions? And where exactly is the line between being open to feedback and being pliable? Leave your thoughts in the comments below!

 


Designed by Stephanie Hoogstad circa 2011

Wear Your Heart on Your Sleeve: Showing Emotions vs. Telling Them

Happy Valentine’s Day! Whether you’re in a relationship or single, you can still spread the love today. I choose to spread the love I have for my pets, my family, and writing. That’s why I’ve chosen to address a rather tricky part of writing: expressing emotions.


The current love of my life

The issue of expressing emotions is along the same lines as the show vs. tell debate. In fact, it’s more of a specific branch of show vs. tell. The problem with expressing emotions, however, mostly has to deal with showing the emotion through actions, body language, and facial expressions versus using adverbs.

Here’s an example:

Tell: He looked at his newborn daughter lovingly.

Show: As he looked down at his newborn daughter cradled in his wife’s arms, a small smile touched his lips and tears threatened to break his tough-man facade. A warmth grew in his stomach, one which he had not felt since his wedding day.

Cheesy, I know, but you get the point. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather read the “show” of the man’s love than the “tell.”

What’s the difference?

Readers love sensory details. These details pull them into that world and, in this case, that emotion. An adverb such as “lovingly” just does not build the same connection between the reader and the character as sensory details do.


Image retrieved from The Strangest Situation

Mind you, sometimes you just need an adverb. That’s fine. Yet you must be careful with how you use one. Stop and think, “How would I react to this sentence as a reader? Would it make me feel the character’s emotions, or am I just going through the motions? Can I replace this adverb with something more accurate and descriptive?” (I’ll get into the general adverb use controversy at another time; right now I want to focus more on showing vs. telling emotions.)

Of course, you don’t always want to use elaborate descriptions for emotions. Spending a paragraph to describe a character’s reaction to their breakfast will grow tedious. (Unless, that is, they haven’t had eaten breakfast in ten years because they’ve been in jail. Then you will want to take the time to describe it.) You have to pick and choose which emotions you provide in detail.

As with most aspects of writing, this concept is easier said than done. You have to decide when you should expand on an emotion. Sometimes you do, sometimes an adverb will suffice, and sometimes you just need a brief visual cue in your character or flat out say what the emotion is. You need a good feel for your writing in order to choose the best method.

Your narrative will be too slow with too much description. You also shouldn’t allow your descriptions to be too cheesy or played-out. Still, brushing over important emotions and/or only using adverbs to describe them disconnect the readers from the story and can even create a choppy narrative. It’s a balancing act, and sometimes you will fall too much to one side or the other. In that case, all you can do is take it as a learning experience and start again.

How much emphasis should be put on emotions in fiction? Should you show emotions, tell them, or make a mix of both? How do you approach this dilemma? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

 


Designed by Stephanie Hoogstad circa 2011

What Prose Writers Can Learn From Poetry

Happy Saturday, valued readers! It’s finally the end of a busy and emotionally-conflicting week. Today I want to go down a route I’ve only explored on here a handful of times: poetry.

It seems that, nowadays, prose writers and poets are at odds. Poetry has taken a backseat to prose, with fiction becoming more popular among the masses. Even some prose writers have an aversion to reading poetry. Then we have the issue of which form better utilizes the art of writing. Poets argue that their work requires a better mastery of language, while prose writers argue that they have to be just as skillful in their pieces.

Honestly, this semi-rivalry is pointless. Whether you write poetry or prose, we all share a love of the craft and work hard to make sure our art is the best it can be. Many writers even straddle the prose/poetry boundary, choosing to work in both forms.


Image available at Waterstone Creations

John Milton and T.S. Eliot wrote both poems and essays. Edgar Allan Poe, while most famous for his short stories, is most praised for his poem “The Raven”. Ursula K. Le Guin, the late fantasy/science fiction icon, also composed poetry along with with her novels and essays. Despite the fact that I’m much better at prose works than poems, I dabble in both forms as well.

I think that all writers would do well to try both forms at least once, but I think prose writers in particular could learn a lot from poetry.

Poems require a level of control and concision that is paralleled in prose only by flash fiction. Even short stories, which need a lot of restraint to be done well, do not quite match poetry in this area. Poems can be long, but they must generate a flow and rhythm, which necessitates a careful use of words. Descriptions must be vivid and precise; each individual word must deliver a powerful punch; and some lines even have to deliver double-meanings in fewer words.

I know many prose writers could learn from this practice. (I happen to be among them.) Sometimes the freedom of prose, the lack of expectations regarding form, can make us a little sloppy with word choice, and we tend to ramble. That’s why editing is so important for prose writers. It’s important for poets as well, but it seems that prose writers don’t always pay as much attention to details as poets even in the editing stage.

Now, that’s not to say that prose does not require control and concision. I’m saying the opposite, in fact. The language in prose needs as much attention and honing as the language in poetry. The difference is that prose writers don’t always make that extra effort–they usually claim they are more “storytellers” than “writers.” Regardless, I think that prose writers would do well to take a page out of the poet’s book.

What do you think? Could prose writers learn from dabbling in poetry? And vice versa? Which do you prefer to write? Leave your thoughts in the comments section below.

 


Designed by Stephanie Hoogstad circa 2011

Stephanie’s Master’s Degree Adventures: Concrete Openings

For a couple weeks, my Master’s program was engaged in writing forums, where we post works-in-progress and give each other feedback. I got a lot of helpful feedback on a section of my fantasy novel (or novella, I’m still working on it so I’m not sure how long it will be yet), and I will share some of this advice with you at a later point. Today, I want to talk about a concept which the advisor leading the forum brought to our attention: concrete openings.

According to our advisor, “concrete openings” are when you open your work so that “the reader ‘sees’ a scene very quickly, and very clearly. So the reader ‘knows where they are.'” One of the examples he provided was from Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights: “1801 – I have just returned from a visit to my landlord – the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with.”


Image retrieved from Amazon

As you can see, the opening of Wuthering Heights gives a the reader a feel for when this narrative begins (1801), where it takes place (somewhere scarcely populated but still with at least one house), and the atmosphere of the place (made clear by “solitary” and “troubled with”).

Of course, not all concrete openings are so direct in grounding the reader. Another example which our advisor provided is this little gem from Murphy by Samuel Beckett: “The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.”

While this quote does not directly give a time or place, it does give more round-about clues to the scene. The sun indicates a place that is sunny, and the fact that the sun has “no alternative” but to shine “on the nothing new” implies a more modern time closer to the publication (as one of my classmates pointed out) because that is when we start to see that nothing is truly new. This opening line does not give firm details about the setting but it still grounds readers in the atmosphere of the story, and thus can be considered a concrete opening.

Our advisor proposed an exercise to my forum in which we try and make the opening line to the work we submitted more “concrete.” Admittedly, I was not–and still am not–sure that making my opening line any more “concrete” than it already is would be in my novel’s best favor.

This exercise will probably be best when I finish the entire rough draft, but here’s my opening sentence: “It was mid-afternoon when they took us to meet the Queen.” As you can see, this opening sets the time in regards to time of day and establishes that this world involves some sort of monarchy. I also think that the brevity establishes a tense, no-nonsense, serious tone for the novel, but that aspect is rather subjective.

Concrete openings dip your readers into your story world immediately. Whether you’re writing fantasy/science fiction, romance, pedestrian fiction, or any other genre out there, immersing your readers in your story world quickly is very important for catching and keeping said readers’ attention. For some fiction, such as fantasy/science fiction and historical fiction, this immersion is imperative. Readers must understand and engage with the setting and atmosphere of the story from page one, or else they won’t want to bother with the rest of the book, or worse–they’ll be too confused to continue.

Now it’s your turn. Look at the opening line for your current work-in-progress. How does it compare to the concrete openings I provided above (and any others you can think of)? Does it help your readers to “see” the scene quickly? Or does it seem to stall? How can you make this opening line more “concrete?” Alternately, is there another line you’ve already written that would make for a better, more concrete opening?

When you’re done, feel free to share your thoughts on openings and your experience trying to make your opening line more concrete. Are concrete openings the best option for all stories, or are there times when non-concrete openings work better? Can you think of any works that do not begin with concrete openings? Drop a line in the comments below!

 


Designed by Stephanie Hoogstad circa 2011

Post-NaNoWriMo Publishing Checklist

So, it’s been a week since the end of NaNoWriMo and participants have gotten a chance to step away from their writing and clear their minds. Many of them are now considering publication. But how will they achieve this goal? You can’t just go from NaNoWriMo to published without a few additional steps. That’s why I want to dedicate a post to a post-NaNoWriMo publishing checklist.

  1. Rewrite

Odds are your NaNoWriMo draft is very rough (that’s the kindest term I use for my own first drafts). After all, NaNoWriMo is all about volume, not quality. That’s why, before you even try publishing your NaNoWriMo book, you first need to revise and rewrite your manuscript. Hopefully you’ve had some time to recover since the event ended, so you can come back to your manuscript with a fresh eye and see what is and is not working. If you can’t read it objectively or you want a second pair of eyes to look it over, seek out a beta reader.

Your initial batch of beta readers can be friends and family. However, the closer you get to a polished manuscript, you’ll want more impartial beta readers (i.e. people who don’t already have some sort of acquaintanceship/relationship with you). That’s where paid beta readers come in. It can be pricey but it’s worth it to have a publishable manuscript. For those on more of a budget, there are plenty of beta readers available on Fiverr and similar websites.

If you deal with a minority or other underrepresented group which you are not a part of, you may want to hire a sensitivity reader as well to make sure that your manuscript is plausible and factually sound. You should also find specialized beta readers for other topics you’re not an expert in, such as surgeries if you’re writing a medical drama, the legal system if you’re writing a crime thriller, etc.


For more help with post-NaNoWriMo revisions, be sure to check out this podcast.

2. Edit/Proofread

This point sounds similar to rewriting but it is slightly different. Rewriting is getting your manuscript to the point that you feel you have a story people would read. Editing and proofreading ensure that the writing behind the story is polished. Rewriting involves closing plot holes and checking consistency; editing and proofreading strengthen the writing and eliminate spelling and grammatical errors.

As with rewriting, you’ll want to recruit friends and family to help with editing and proofreading at first but, as you get closer to your final copy, you will need to recruit outside help. Editors and proofreaders do not come any cheaper than beta readers but, as with beta readers, you can find plenty of affordable options on Fiverr.

3. Writing a Blurb

Whether you’re self-publishing or going down a more traditional route, you will want to write a short blurb describing your manuscript. Writing a blurb will help prepare you for pitching your book to publishers (you might even be able to use your blurb within the pitch), and you need a blurb for the back of your book if you’re self-publishing. As with the other items on this checklist, you can always hire someone from places like Fiverr to help you write this blurb and/or your pitch (beware of scammers). Keep in mind that no one knows your book better than you do, so it’s best to write your own blurb and/or pitch and then recruit someone to help you edit and proofread it before use.

4. Cover Design

For those who want to pursue tradition publication, you won’t need this step as the publisher will help handle this. However, if you are publishing your manuscript yourself, you will want to give this step special attention. We say don’t judge a book by its cover but let’s face it, everyone does. If a cover is unappealing or does not accurately represent the content, people won’t read your book. You could find someone you know who’s a good artist to create something for you. However, it’s always best to have a professional artist/graphic designer help you.

Again, it’s not going to be cheap but it’s crucial to a successful self-published book. You can hire someone from Fiverr, even going to Fiverr Pro if you don’t trust that the Fiverr sellers are professional (visit this page for more information on Fiverr Pro). For the best results, you’ll want to visit websites and online communities for writers and check out the cover designers that they recommend. People in these communities have already gone through the struggle of publishing; let them share their wisdom with you.

None of this is easy and it will take a lot of time to accomplish. It’s worth the time, effort, and money to create a professional, polished product. If you do the work ahead of time, it will save a lot of wasted time and effort from publishing before your manuscript is truly ready.

Have any tips for novice writers looking to be published? Any thoughts on self-publication or continuing after NaNoWriMo? Drop a line in the comments below or e-mail me at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com and your wisdom might be featured in a future post.


Designed by Stephanie Hoogstad circa 2011

Sensitivity Readers: Useful Fact-Checking or Restrictive Censorship?

Today I got the latest edition of Writer’s Digest. As I was perusing and generally avoiding working on my critical response due next week, I came across an interesting article about a publishing trend which involves hiring “sensitivity readers.” Needless to say, I was intrigued to learn more.

What are sensitivity readers? Mandy Howard, who wrote the article published in Writer’s Digest, was kind enough to provide a definition from Writing in the Margins, an online database of sensitivity readers: sensitivity reading is editing for “issues of representation and for instances of bias on the page” (Writer’s Digest, January 2018, p. 8).

With this definition in mind, I’m going to turn to an aspect of the article which, admittedly, bewildered me. Namely, a passionate debate about the role/appropriateness of these specialized beta readers has be sparked with #diversity, #thoughtpolice, and #ownvoices.

The debate really shouldn’t surprise me. After all, everyone has a different opinion on everything. (I dare you to ask the question “Is The Nightmare Before Christmas a Halloween movie or a Christmas movie?” in my household. You will get three distinct, passionate, and articulately-argued answers.) Still, my personal view of the matter made the debate seem unnecessary to me.

Here are the three sides of the argument:

  1. #diversity: These are the readers and writers who support people at all stages of the manuscript’s development hiring sensitivity readers. Their argument is that it is just another kind of fact-checking. After all, if you are writing from a perspective which is not your own, you are most likely to get something wrong. Don’t want egg on your face because you misidentify a Muslim woman’s garment, right? And what if you inaccurately described how a deaf student interacts with his professor? Nobody’s perfect. If we’re going to include diversity in our works, we have to make sure that we do it right.
  2. #thoughtpolice: These critics of the concept believe that sensitivity readers suppress creativity and expression. Howard points out that ptheir argument often falls back on the claim that classics such as The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Of Mice and Men, and Uncle Tom’s Cabin would not have been written the way they were under such insistence on political correctness because they portray these groups so negatively. One Washington Post letter to the editor which Howard references even compares sensitivity readers to censors.
  3. #ownvoices: This hashtag arises from more critics of this concept, but they don’t criticize it for nearly the same reason as #thoughtpolice. Their problem doesn’t seem to be with using sensitivity readers. Rather, they argue that people from these diverse groups need to write themselves. Shouldn’t we have books about African Americans written by African Americans? Books with transgender characters by transgender authors? How about books about Jews by Jews, or books about autistic characters by autistic writers? We need more diversity in our writers as well as our characters.

You have probably already guessed my position on the matter. I side most with #diversity and #ownvoices.

I think that sensitivity readers, like other beta readers and editors, serve as tools for revision and refinement. More importantly, they’re a research source. Just like you would search the Web, scour the archives, and interview experts (including those with first-hand experience), you can gain invaluable information about a different perspective from your sensitivity readers. Nothing enriches writing more than genuine human experience.

In regards to #ownvoices, I agree. We need more writers from diverse backgrounds. I’d much rather read about a perspective when written by someone with that perspective. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean that we shouldn’t write from different perspectives. We need to have both in order to represent realistically-diverse worlds in our stories. Sensitivity readers will ensure that we accurately portray perspectives which aren’t our own, and utilizing this resource is a step in the right direction.

For more articles from Writer’s Digest, be sure to visit writersdigest.com. You can also visit Mandy Howard’s website for more of her work and find your own sensitivity reader on Writing in the Margins.

What do you think about sensitivity readers? Are they fact-checkers or censors? Leave your thoughts in the comments below, but please remain civil. We welcome all view points so long as they are expressed respectfully.

To Outline or Not to Outline

I recently finished reading a book called Book Blueprint by Jacqui Pretty (the review will, hopefully, be appearing on OnlineBookClub.org in the next few weeks, barring any unforeseen circumstances). It’s about planning and writing a book as an entrepreneur to promote your business. It got me thinking about something which is useful in fiction, nonfiction, and academic writing, and I think it’s something which NaNoWriMo participates can benefit from: creating an outline.

At one point or another, you were probably made to create an outline for an essay in primary school (I was in high school). It might have helped you write a better essay, or it might have been a big waste of time for you. Not everyone thinks in a way which makes outlining useful. Still, you might want to consider returning to the method as a professional writer, no matter how novice or advanced your career may be.

An outline can organize your thoughts when they are otherwise jumbled. Many problems of inspiration can be alleviated by creating a sketch of what you want to write ahead of time. It won’t completely solve the issue of writer’s block and lack of inspiration, but having your original ideas to refer to can help.

In fiction, pre-planning could ease the burden of the “sagging middle.” If you outline your story or novel ahead of time, you can get a rough idea of how to transition from one scene to another. When you get stuck (aren’t sure of how to proceed, forgot a character’s name, etc.), you can return to your outline for an extra boost of inspiration, if nothing else.


The Freytag Pyramid is a well-known, perhaps infamous, way to plan fiction.

With nonfiction and academic writing, an outline is almost a necessity. You have to know what you’re going to write about, how to transition from one argument/event/whatever to another, and the point you’re making with this piece. Planning all this out beforehand will save you a lot of head-banging and pen-clicking later.

Of course, outlines aren’t for everyone. Fiction writers in particular have a hard time with planning their work. Some writers find that outlines stimulate their imaginations and keep their thoughts straight. Others, however, find planning rigid and constrictive, thus stunting their inspiration and blocking the creative flow. Outlines are incredibly useful in nonfiction and academic writing, but in fiction writing there’s a 50/50 chance that outlining will also slow down the process.

As with all writing advice, you have to personalize your approach to planning and outlines. One time it may work for you and the next it’ll derail your project. If you’re writing an essay or memoir, you’ll most likely want to use an outline. Writing a novel? Probably but no guarantee, although pre-planning will make NaNoWriMo go much more smoothly. A short story? Maybe not. You have to take it all in stride. Eventually you’ll learn what works best for you when.

Until then, an outline might be worth a try. Worst-case scenario: you have the bare-bones for a story that you can follow very loosely, like guidelines.

What’s been your experience with planning your pieces? Do you use an outline or do you prefer to jump right in? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

 


Designed by Stephanie Hoogstad circa 2011

Show or Tell: How Should Writers Approach Description?

Good day, readers and writers. Sorry it’s been so long since my last post; a lot has been going on at my house. I’ve had work, school, cleaning, making connections, and a little bit of writing here and there. I’m still going to be a bit scarce since I’m getting ready for my trip next week, but today I can at least provide you some wisdom on a writing cliché: show, don’t tell.

Last week I hosted my Master’s program discussion on Thornton Wilder’s The Bridge of San Luis Rey. One of the many aspects of Wilder’s writing we covered was his tendency to “tell” rather than to “show.” Of course, I had to mention the age-old advice for writer to “show, not tell.” As usual, my classmates and I had a lively discussion on regarding the subject but, overall, we agreed that Wilder’s style did not harm his work and that this writing cliché is just that, a cliché which does not always apply.


Image retrieved from Amazon

The logic behind this worn-out advice is rather sound: if you are more descriptive in your writing, you’re likely to paint a clear image for your reader and keep his/her attention. In a perfect world, more description would be better. However, we don’t live in a perfect world and, often, more description leads to too much description.

If we aren’t careful, we can overwhelm our readers with the amount of descriptive language we used and, perhaps, even bore them. I’ll skim through even the most beautiful depiction of a stately mansion if it runs on for more than a few sentences. Sometimes we need immense amounts of description, such as when we’re being introduced to a new landscape in a foreign world while reading speculative fiction. Other times, such as when the writer brings the reader fleetingly into a common house that isn’t important to the story as a whole, less is more.

Telling also has its advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, telling doesn’t aid the reader’s imagination as well as showing does. Too much telling can also be as boring as too much boring. After all, we want to be able to imagine the setting and characters for ourselves, and just saying “the desert landscape” or “the brown-eyed girl” doesn’t often cut it.


Image retrieved from LDS Beta Reader

Nevertheless, telling can also create a mood which showing cannot. When we “tell” rather than “show,” we can induce the feeling of oral tales such as fairy tales and fables. That’s one of the effects that telling has on Wilder’s The Bridge of San Luis Rey, which enhances the book’s other fable-like elements such as the moral and simplistic characters. Telling is also a good way to skim over unimportant details in a story that are still needed for the story to not seem contrived or illogical. For example, you can tell the reader that a character drove from point A to point B without showing any unnecessary details, such as a traffic jam or debris on the side of the road.

“Show, don’t tell” isn’t even a matter of balancing the two concepts. Some stories require a lot of showing and little telling, others need a lot of telling and little showing, and still others should fall somewhere in between. There is no cookie-cutter solution. Rather, you have to take description on a case-by-case basis, changing your approach depending on what feels right for the story you are trying to write.

What’s your take on “show, don’t tell”? Is it solid advice, entirely wrong, or flawed? Do you show more than tell, vice versa, or somewhere in between? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

 


Designed by Stephanie Hoogstad circa 2011

Some Thoughts on the Novella

For our first fiction webinar of the year, my Master’s class discussed a form which does not often cross the modern writer’s mind: the novella. It’s not so easy to keep all the definitions straight in the writing world, so I found a rough definition of “novella” from an article on The Writer. When separating novellas from short stories and novels, word counts usually create the boundaries; typically, novellas have between 20,000 and 50,000 words.

Beyond the definition of “novella,” the article from The Writer also raises an interesting question which my webinar debated as well: could the novella survive on the commercial market?


A famous novella

Image retrieved from Wikipedia

The author of this article, Jack Smith, argues for pursuing small presses when attempting to publish a novella. As hard as it is to get a larger publisher to give you the time of day as an unknown novelist, it’s even harder when you’re pushing a novella. Smith points out that more of the smaller presses are open to accepting novellas. However, he also explains that, due to financial or quota restrictions, smaller publishers can’t take anything less than an exemplary novella.

Some publishers don’t want novellas because they don’t seem to sell. Others want them because they’re shorter than a novel and, therefore, cheaper to produce; as long as the writing is high quality and compelling, it could be a very wise investment. This potential makes me wonder if the form is truly as undesirable to consumers as market trends suggest.

Consider this: a common complaint in regards to society becoming overly-dependent on technology is that it shortens our attention spans. If that complaint contains a grain of truth, novellas would be preferable to the average reader rather than the novel. The novella immerses the reader in its world as thoroughly as a novel with the writing economy and punch of a short story. What’s better for the impatient millenial reader? (I am so sorry I used that term.)

Another aspect of the digital age may also give novellas an advantage: e-books. E-books allow readers to find quick distractions when they don’t have physical books, like when they’re waiting at the doctor’s office or standing in line for a movie. Short stories and short story collections may thrive better in these shorter waits, but novellas would fill the void during medium-length waits, such as day trips and nights spent at the airport.


Another famous novella

Image retrieved from Wikipedia

For both self-published writers and smaller presses, the digital revolution could reignite the commercial possibilities for novellas. That doesn’t mean you should self-publish or send out your novella willy-nilly. As with all forms of writing, you have to make your novella the best you think it can be, including undergoing several rewrites, edits, and beta readers as you find prudent (and then add a couple more sessions to be sure). Nevertheless, don’t be afraid to pitch or publish your work because it’s a novella. If you like it, if you see more promise than failure in it, proceed as you would with a novel or short story.

To get you novella writers started, be sure to check out the aforementioned article from The Writer for some small presses open to receiving novella submissions.

What do you think? Are novellas dead? Or are they just waiting to rise again? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

 


Designed by Stephanie Hoogstad circa 2011

Writers on Writing: Toni Morrison

It’s been quite a while since I last wrote a “Writers on Writing” post, so I’ve decided to revive the series with a special double-quote post on Toni Morrison. Morrison is a celebrated American writer who has won the Pulitzer Prize, the American Book Award, the Nobel Prize in Literature, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, and many, many more accolades. She penned such classics as The Bluest Eye, Song of Solomon, and Beloved, the last of which was made into a movie starring Oprah Winfrey and Danny Glover. For more information as this influential writer and activist, be sure to check out her Wikipedia entry.

I’m more than a little ashamed to admit that I’ve never read any of Morrison’s work. I haven’t even seen the Oprah Winfrey movie. I plan to remedy that sooner rather than later. Still, I do know Morrison as a black feminist activist, someone who has worked hard for equality for African Americans and women alike. While I would love to discuss her contributions in those regards, I don’t feel like I’m the right person for that. Instead, I will be focusing on two of her quotes on writing.

Here’s the first:

If there’s a book you really want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.

~Toni Morrison, retrieved from BrainyQuotes

 

This quote is so well-loved and well-shared by writers that you’ve probably seen it floating around Twitter and Facebook in meme form. Why not? It’s very true and, after reading it, seems a bit obvious. If the book you want to read hasn’t been written yet, why don’t you write it? Odds are if you want to read it, other people will want to read it, too.

 

There’s a catch to that. Once you’ve written it, others can judge it. Heck, while you’re writing it, others can judge it and try to influence its final form. If you’re not careful and don’t filter which readers you listen to, you may find that the book you write is not at all the book you originally wanted to read or even the one you want to read now.

 

That’s where the second Morrison quote comes in:

 

I’m not entangled in shaping my work according to other people’s views of how I should have done it.

~Toni Morrison, retrieved from BrainyQuotes

 

Morrison is essentially saying that she doesn’t let other people’s opinions what she “should” write hold too much sway over what she actually writes. If she had listened to what other people thought when she first started writing, she wouldn’t be the prolific writer we praise today. If she listens to what people tell her now, she might as well stop writing because her voice will be drowned out.

 

The world wants to hear your voice in your writing, not the same old voices it’s heard a million times before. What would be the point in writing the book you want to read if you don’t write it the way you think it should be written?

 

Many books we deem “classics” today were heavily-criticized, if not flat-out failures, during their first rounds of publication. Moby-Dick certainly wasn’t well-loved, nor was The Catcher in the Rye or The Lord of the Rings trilogy. J.K. Rowling’s agent even told her not to quit her day job. That’s not counting all of the works by minority writers trying to give a voice to non-Caucasian, heterosexual, cisgender, Christian males. We still have a problem with these works being criticized just because they don’t fall under the norm.

 

Morrison could not have hit the nail on the head with any better precision. Writers shouldn’t only write the books they want to read; they should write them in their voices with their visions. Yes, it’s important to listen to constructive feedback. After all, that’s how we learn as writers. Nevertheless, if advice feels so against the grain of our vision and our voice, how much credence should we give it? If we let others have too much say over how and what we write, it won’t be our writing anymore.

 

What do you think? Should we write the books we want to read or only the books that we “know” will sell? How much influence should other readers have on how we write? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

 

Know of any writers or quotes I should feature in a future “Writers on Writing”? Drop a line here or e-mail me with your suggestions at thewritersscrapbin@gmail.com.

 


Designed by Stephanie Hoogstad circa 2011