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So I’m working on book four of a series, and I’m struggling with is how to provide all of the background information. I’ve now got 300,000 words worth of “what came before.” Not all of that information is relevant to the current book, but some of it is. So how do you work that in? There’s the “Our story so far…” approach, where the author presents a prologue that sums up the previous books. I can see where that might be useful in an ongoing story, like book four of Lord of the Rings or part two of a Star Trek episode. But personally, I’m not too fond of the Prologue of Summarized Backstory, and my books are a bit more episodic, meaning I don’t think there’s a need to sum up everything that’s come before. With the goblin books, I went for the silly. Book two had a song to the tune of Sweet Home Alabama, which summed up the events of Goblin Quest. Book three opened with “The Recitation of the Deeds of Jig Dragonslayer,” a quasi-religious goblin-style list of events. That doesn’t really work for the princess series, which doesn’t have the same kind of goofy humor. So I’ve been taking the approach that I’ll just write the story and include background info when and if it becomes important, just as I would with any other information. Even with a brand new story, there’s always “what came before,” and the author has to work that in. But how much do I have to tell? Do I assume most everyone has read the first books, and I don’t have to explain — again — where Danielle’s sword came from, or what happened to Charlotte, or who Captain Hephyra is? Or do I assume there will be new readers which each book, meaning it’s important to add a paragraph or two to explain various details to the new readers … even though people who’ve read the rest of the series might roll their eyes and say, “I know this already. Get to the good part!” The latter is a complaint I’ve seen in a few reviews lately. Not a major criticism, but a minor annoyance, especially for people who picked up all three books and read them at once. I don’t know. It’s important to me that the books stand alone as much as possible, so that anyone can pick up any of my books and start reading. For that reason, I’m thinking it’s important to include some explanation for things from prior books that come up in this one. Maybe the trick is to find a new way to present the same old information, so that even people who know the background will be entertained, or at least not bored. Or maybe I shouldn’t worry about explaining, trusting that those gaps won’t throw new readers out of the story. That they’ll either figure it out from context, or if they’re worried, that they’ll go back and get the earlier books. What do you think? Examples, both good and bad, are more than welcome. One of the frustrating things about being a new writer is that you get different advice depending on who you ask. I remember my confusion that the wisdom of Big Name Pros, the people who had been doing this for decades, was sometimes completely off-base. But it makes sense — publishing is a changing field, and some of the rules of 20 years ago are different from the rules today. Imagine my shock when it occurred to me that I started writing 15 years ago … that my own experiences were different than those of new writers today. (Not to mention the fact that many of my fans hadn’t even been born when I started writing. Eep!) I sat down to take a look at some of the things that have changed since I penned my first story in 1995. 1. Electronic submissions. All of my early stories were printed and mailed. I went through boxes and boxes of manila envelopes. Submitting by that new-fangled electronic mail? Unheard of. International submissions were sent with an IRC (International Reply Coupon). 2. Electronic markets. There were few online ‘zines and publishers, and those that did exist were small and often amateurish. (Strange Horizons showed up in 2000, and was the first professional-looking online ‘zine I knew of. Happy 10th Anniversary, SH!) 3. Web sites. A web presence wasn’t required, though some of us were experimenting with pages and online journals. I put up my own page on that fancy new Geocities site. 4. Submission guidelines advised you to always use a fresh ink ribbon in your printer.
6. E-books. Wait, e-what now? 7. Standard Manuscript Format was 12-point Courier. Two spaces after periods. Underline to show italics. Does anyone even use Courier anymore, or is it hanging out with other forgotten fonts, drinking and talking about the good old days? 8. I could walk into a bookstore and introduce myself as an author, and the staff wouldn’t instinctively flinch or hide. (Also see: Vanity presses, explosion of.) 9. SFWA pro rate for short fiction was 3 cents/word. 10. My hair came down to the middle of my back. (I maintain that the hair loss is writing-related, caused by stress!) 11. There were agents charging a 10% commission. I’m not sure exactly when the switch to 15% happened, but pretty much every agent is working for 15% these days. 12. People were bemoaning the Imminent Death of Publishing, as opposed to the present day, when … um … never mind. Strange to realize that even though my first book with DAW came out a mere four years ago, much of my experience as a new writer trying to break in is already a bit outdated. And if that’s true, imagine what it’s like for someone who broke in even further back. I’m not saying you shouldn’t listen to professional authors who talk about this stuff. However, it’s good to be aware that publishing is constantly changing, and some advice from ten years ago might not hold today. It’s also good to pay attention to whether the author giving the advice is aware of and in touch with those changes. So what’s changed since you started writing? Contributions to the list are welcome (as are regular old comments and discussion). Assuming nobody interrupts my lunch break today, I should be able to finish up the third draft of The Snow Queen’s Shadow. Not the final draft, mind you. I’ve made plenty of notes about things I have to go back and fix. But I’m hopeful that draft #4 will be the one that gets sent to my agent and editor. This is the second time I’ve wrapped up a series. You’d think it should get easier. Much like each new book you write should be easier than the last, because you’re getting better, right? Yet it seems to work the other way around. The more skilled you become as a writer, the more ambitious you get, and the more aware you are of the flaws. From the start, endings and the lie of happily ever after have been a central theme of the princess series. I’m not saying people can’t be happy, but the idea of endings … unless you destroy the universe on the last page of your book, there is no end. There’s only the point where you stopped writing. Usually that point should bring closure to the conflicts of the book. But if everything is wrapped up too neatly, it ruins the suspension of disbelief, at least for me. Life is messy. Solving one problem often leads to others. So when I end a book or a series, I want to make sure I convey a sense that these characters and their stories will continue — even if I’m no longer writing them. I also look for change. If everyone and everything is the same at the end as they were in the beginning, what’s the point? Sure, the journey might have been fun, but a story where the status quo never changes? No thank you. And of course, the author has to follow through on his/her promises. For example, I introduced an unresolved romantic relationship in Stepsister Scheme. I have to go somewhere with that tension. Likewise, there are other character conflicts I’ve been planting and need to resolve … one way or another. I don’t believe an author’s job is to make all the readers happy. In part because there’s just no way to do it. I know some readers really want to see those two characters end up together; other readers have said they don’t want that. One way or another, some people will not get the ending they were hoping for. For the past year, I’ve been searching for the ending that feels true. Some things have changed a lot from my initial outline; others haven’t. Some plotlines I had hoped to include were cut because they just didn’t fit. And don’t get me started on trying to decide who lives and who dies… I’ve got a lot of work left, but I’m getting there. For the most part, this ending feels right. It feels honest. It answers questions … but not all of them :-) It provides closure, but also points toward a future (and leaves me something to work with if I someday decide to return to this series). It is — I hope — powerful without being manipulative.1 Is it perfect? Probably not. But I’m proud of what I’ve written, and I can’t wait to share it with everyone. Discussion welcome, as always. What do you look for in an ending? What are the best (or worst) endings you’ve read? What makes it work?2 —
One things I struggled with in Sanchin-Ryu is that there’s no blocking. Oh, you learn pretty quickly to keep your hands up to guard, and there are strikes to intercept an opponent’s attack, not to mention learning to move into your opponent to disrupt their attack. But no blocks. Because you’re going to get hit. No matter how long you study blocking, no matter how fast you are. Bruce Lee, Jet Li, Jackie Chan … they all get hit. So we focus on acting instead of reacting. On controlling the confrontation instead of trying to guess and deflect our opponent’s strikes. On learning to take the hit, minimize the damage, and return that energy. If you’re going to be a writer, you’re going to get hit. Some of those hits are going to hurt, as with my very first submission to Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Fantasy Magazine, which came back with a note “You must have had a point to this story … but I have no idea what it was.” Or learning my French publisher wouldn’t buy the third goblin book because sales had been lousy. Other hits are easier to shrug off, such as a negative review of The Stepsister Scheme which said “the book goes from happy girl power romp … to a few things that I’m sure could be found in an S&M porno.” You can’t block every hit. Some of them are going to knock you on your ass, like the day I learned Baen Books had withdrawn an offer to publish my novels. Growing up, I remember the kids who would go crazy when hit, flailing about like a cross between Gonzo and the Tasmanian Devil. That happens with writers, too. It’s not pretty. You’re going to get hit. Rejections and bad reviews, not to mention jealous friends or peers, trouble with editors and/or publishers, online trolls, flamewars, and so much more. And it’s going to hurt. Part of being a writer is learning to take the hit. I think the most helpful thing is to regain your stance. A good hit steals your balance. Take it back. Your writing career could span decades. This is only one review, one rejection, one setback. In the case of my French publisher, I had to remind myself that other aspects of my career were still going well. (Happy side note: I now have a new French publisher which has picked up the first two princess books.) In the case of Marion Zimmer Bradley, I found a way to send that energy right back. I took her rejection as a challenge to write an even better story, one she would have to buy. (I sold my first story to her in 1999, four years later.) Know which hits require a response, and how to respond. Random Amazon reviewer? You have to shrug it off. Publisher refusing to pay you? Start with one well-targeted strike from SFWA’s Griefcom. Keep your focus. Don’t let an opponent dictate how things are going to go. One of the reasons I banned an individual from my LiveJournal last week is that I simply don’t have the time or energy for it; I have a book to finish. And most importantly, remember to breathe. Other suggestions or advice on how to take a literary hit? Or how not to? Good morning! I’m not actually online today. This week I’m writing these blog posts from the past!
Jon also maintains an interesting and useful writing blog, one I’ve been following for a while now. My thanks to Jon for helping to fill in this week while I’m away. # I’ve been a fan of Jim’s writing and blogging skills for a long time, so you can imagine how thrilled I am to be posting an entry here on his blog. I hope I can justify his confidence in me. Savor the Moments A career in writing is not for the faint of heart. Writers go through a huge amount of negative before they ever get published, and (I suspect) even more of it afterwards. Before he/she ever makes that first short story sale, a writer can expect to receive rejection after rejection from editors and slush readers, most of whom offer little or no feedback or encouragement. Critiques from fellow writers, however well-meaning, tend to focus on what doesn’t work, and though that’s to be expected (it’s the point of them, after all), they too can be a bit of a downer. Then there’s a writer’s family and friends. I’m fortunate in that the people who matter in my life are incredibly patient and supportive about my fiction habit, but many folks aren’t so lucky. Spend some time around other writers and you’ll hear plenty of stories about family and so-called friends either belittling, or even mocking their efforts. “If there’s so much negative, why bother?” I hear you ask, as if we could ever stop making up stories. In truth, many folks do give up. You may well know some of them. They got to a point where they couldn’t take the negative anymore, so they told themselves whatever they needed to hear to justify giving up on their dream, and settled for something less. How can we avoid that same fate? I can think of three ways, which I’ll offer in reverse order: #3 Never refer to yourself as ‘unpublished.’ #2 Spend time with other writers. #1 Learn to savor the moments. Every time you submit a story, take a ‘moment’ to feel proud of yourself. Heading out to a writing group or some other writerly-type meeting? When you pull up in the car lot, sit back awhile and savor the feeling of a dream pursued. When you get a rejection with a ‘not this time, but please try again,’ make sure you appreciate what that means. That editor’s telling you he/she liked your writing. Your story didn’t suck, it just wasn’t right for that publication at that particular time. Every now and then you’ll get a hand-written note of advice/encouragement (or the email equivalent), sure, it’s still a rejection, but someone thought enough of what they saw to offer you some encouragement. Set some time aside to enjoy that feeling. Non-writer might question why any of the above is worth celebrating. Ignore them. Taking pleasure in your minor achievements helps you stay positive and fortifies your dream. That’s always a good thing. How about you? What moments will you savor in the coming weeks? # Born in England, Jon Gibbs now lives in the USA, where he’s the founder and proud member of The New Jersey Authors’ Network and FindAWritingGroup.com. His debut novel, Fur-Face (Echelon Press) is available from Amazon.com (Kindle) and in other e-formats at OmniLit.com. When he’s not chasing around after his three children, Jon can usually be found sitting in front of the computer in his basement office. One day he hopes to figure out how to switch it on. I think I’ve mentioned the Ego Shelf once or twice before. We joke about authors and their egos, and there is some truth to the jabs. Authors do tend toward the egotistical. After all, we think our words are good enough that you should pay money just to read them. But the ego shelf isn’t about feeding the ego. (Not just about that, at least.) It’s not “Look upon this shelf and bask in my awesomeness!” It’s not about whose shelf is longer. It’s about … let’s call it positive reinforcement.
That shelf holds a copy of almost1 every magazine, anthology, and novel (both English and translated) I’ve ever done, along with my Writers of the Future trophy there on the left. And you know what? I’m damn proud of that shelf. I’ve been told pride is a sin, and I realize pride can get you into trouble. But I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with taking a moment to feel good about what I’ve accomplished over the past fifteen years. It’s a good reminder, something to get me through the slumps. I’ve spent ten months working on The Snow Queen’s Shadow, and it helps to look up and remember that in a year or so I’ll be adding another book to the shelf, and people all over the world will (I hope) be reading and enjoying it. I’d love to someday have an entire Ego Bookcase. And it would be fun to add a few more trophies. But no matter where you are in your career, I think it’s important to recognize and honor the work you’ve done, to feel good about that. Even when I only had a few semi-pro magazines on display … heck, back before I sold anything, I taped my rejection letters up because I was proud of them too. Because they meant I was writing and submitting and working, dammit! Writing is hard. It’s okay to be proud of your work. Not only okay, I think it’s important. Oh — and those of you with keen eyes or good monitors might have spotted something there on the right. Let me give you a close-up.
Oh, yes. Author copies of Red Hood’s Revenge [B&N | Mysterious Galaxy | Amazon] have arrived at the Hines household, and there was much rejoicing. Don’t they look pretty all lined up together like that? To celebrate, I’ve updated my web site with the teaser for The Snow Queen’s Shadow. This is the same text that appears in the back of Red Hood. If you want to see what’s coming next summer, feel free to take a peek. —
A discussion came up on one of my author e-mail groups about reading reviews of your work. The point was made that positive reviews can lead to a swollen ego. Negative reviews bring you down. Neither of these are good things. It’s a valid point. When I saw the (ahem) starred Publishers Weekly review for Red Hood’s Revenge, it certainly pumped my ego up a notch. “Transcends its predecessors”? “Worth visiting again and again”? Oh, heck yes! On the other hand, Harriet Klausner called the plot thin and only gave me four stars at B&N.com. (Klausner almost always gives five stars.) I don’t consider Klausner as serious or influential a reviewer as Publishers Weekly, but the review still stung. (Which is okay — it’s the reviewer’s job to review the book, not to coddle my feelings. The reviewer’s obligation is to their readers, not to me.) I’ve always read my reviews, both from major reviewers and casual bloggers. (Thank you, Google Alerts.) I plan to continue doing so. Partly it’s ego and insecurity. I want to know whether people are talking about my books. Positive or negative, as long as people are reading and discussing, that’s still better thing than radio silence. I also realized I could learn from reviews, though it’s a little tricky. The problem is, everyone reacts differently. One reviewer says a book is the best thing I’ve ever done. Another throws it across the room after only one chapter. Who’s right? Both. Neither. Heck if I know. But occasionally I read a review that just clicks. Someone will point something out that makes me go, “Oh, wow. They’re right, and how the heck did I miss that?” I commented yesterday about the way I wrote Talia’s character in Stepsister. It was a comment at a review that first got me thinking about that issue. In addition, as I read more reviews, I start to see patterns. I’m not the brightest guy in the world, but eventually it clicks that a lot of people were bored by this part, or a certain scene didn’t work for them, or everyone keeps complaining that I overuse this piece of description… It reminds me of workshop critiques: if one person says there’s a problem, I can take it or leave it. If many people point out the same issue, then it’s something I need to look at. Some authors point out that in the case of reviews, it’s too late to change the book, so why bother? They’re right of course. But I can apply those lessons to the next books. It’s not always kind to my ego, especially when people jump in and start agreeing with a negative review in the comments. I also have to fight the occasional urge to argue with reviewers.1 Overall though, I’ve learned a fair amount from reviews, and I very much appreciate everyone who takes the time to write them. —
In April of last year, I did a post on writing about rape, and how we as authors often do it badly. Recently, I received an e-mail from one of my readers asking if I could do a follow-up on how to write about rape in fiction and do it well. I’m not going to sit here and proclaim The Right Way to write about rape. What I can do is talk about how I’ve written about rape in my fiction. I’m not saying I did it right, but maybe this can be a starting point for discussion. ~Spoilers for some of Jim’s fiction beyond this point~ Most writers, both commercial and fanfic, have heard some version of the Marion Zimmer Bradley “cautionary tale” regarding fanfiction. In one version, Bradley was a generous, nurturing author who encouraged fanfiction until a greedy fanfic author tried to sue her, torpedoing a book in the process. In another, Bradley had was preying on helpless fanfic authors, using their ideas to perpetuate her publishing empire. If we’re going to toss this story around every time we talk about fanfiction, it would be nice to have a few facts to go with the fourth-hand accounts, guesswork, and rumors. Michael Thomas and opusculus have both posted about the MZB incident lately, and provided inspiration and starting points for my own write-up. But I wanted to dig deeper, and to avoid the wiki-style sources which in my opinion aren’t as reliable for this sort of thing. To put my own biases out there, one of my first sales was to Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Fantasy Magazine. I later sold a story to Sword & Sorceress XXI. In addition, I’m published by DAW, which also published Bradley’s work. I’ll leave it to you to read and decide whether this influences my research and write-up. First hand statements are in red. I’ve included links wherever possible. At the start of the month, I posted about a possible secret writing project. Wizards of the Coast asked me and a few other authors to write sample pages for a book they’re planning. I was excited about the idea, and as a long-time gaming geek, I thought it would be a lot of fun to be a WotC author. On May 11, I got an e-mail from the editor at Wizards. She loved the sample and invited me to write the book. On May 18, my agent received the official offer. Yesterday, I turned them down. Back in 2002, I sent sample pages to Wizards, hoping to write for them. I’ve been playing D&D for most of my life (one of the reasons I said I’d be perfect for this project). I have a number of friends who write for WotC and seem happy. I was excited about being able to join them. So why did I say no? Ultimately, it’s because we couldn’t agree on what my time, energy, and writing were worth. I was hoping to be able to negotiate a deal that would work for both sides. Without going into detail, this didn’t happen. It’s a strange feeling, saying no to a major publisher. A strange feeling, and a scary one. Did I make a mistake? Have I burned a bridge? Oh-God-what-the-hell-did-I-just-do??? At the same time, it’s empowering. I don’t believe my ego has gotten out of control (yet), but I have developed more confidence in both my writing and my worth. I don’t have to say yes to a deal I’m not comfortable with. It’s important to be able to say no. If you can’t, people can and will take advantage. Sometimes your willingness to say no can result in a better deal. Sometimes it helps you avoid a bad one. Sometimes it helps you prioritize, because time is finite and there’s a limit to the number of stories anyone can write in their lifetime. (With the possible exception of Jay Lake.) A tie-in for Wizards would have been a lot of fun, and would have added something new to my body of work. (Not to mention that I would have written one seriously Kick Ass book!) On the other hand, this lessens my stress for the next few months, and frees up time to finish putting together the pitch for my next series. I have no hard feelings or ill will toward Wizards. I’m disappointed things didn’t work out, but it’s not the end of the world, or even the end of my career. Questions and comments are welcome, as always, but be aware that I signed a nondisclosure agreement about the project, so I can’t get any more specific about the actual book. |
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Copyright © 2010 Jim C. Hines - All Rights Reserved |
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5. Market Research. You still had to do your research, but my first round of agent hunting involved several hours in the MSU library, reviewing the current Literary Agent Guide. (I can’t recall the actual title of that tome.) I also subscribed to 
I’ve 
Except for today, because I didn’t actually write this one. Today’s post was written (also in the past!) by 
