As the Song Goes...

"Make someone happy. Make just one someone happy, and you'll be happy, too."

I'm about to make someone happy. And like the song goes, it's a great a morning, because I'm about to send a writer an e-mail, offering to buy the story that he's revised, not once for us, but twice. As the cliche goes, three times is the charm.

Usually, Diane, our Managing Editor for On Spec sends out the offers to buy. This time, I get to do it. And I can't tell you how excited I am, because this story has been a bit of a process - not the writer's fault, but due to the differences in tastes and temperaments at On Spec. And no, before anybody thinks I'm about to air dirty laundry here, I'm not, except maybe to air my own.

I think one of the reasons On Spec works so well is because each editor brings different things to the editorial process. With this particular story, I was tempted to write it off because it had what I thought were glaring errors. It was a good story, had some promise, but I tend to dismiss less than perfect stories. Diane loved the story from the beginning, as did Barb and Ann. (And forgive me, guys, if I'm getting the details wrong). Because they thought the story was good, I took my objections and worked directly with the writer. He took my suggestions and made the fixes.

After the second revision, Barb suggested a final fix, where two scenes were switched, the stronger one with the character who was introduced in the beginning to wrap up the end. Once again, the writer accommodated us. I have no idea what he was thinking, but I suspect he hoped his willingness to work with us would earn him a sale. I also really hope that he thinks his work is better now, is tighter than ever and has greater impact, because it does.

I get excited when I read a really, good story. I get even more excited when I know I've been part of that birthing process. We don't spend a lot of time doing that at On Spec - working one-on-one with a writer with whom we haven't already promised a sale. But thanks to Diane, Barb, and Ann, they wanted this story, and I wanted it better than it was. They saw the potential. I saw the flaws. Sometimes, to bring a really great piece to life, you need editors who do both.

So now, I get to tell the writer we're going to buy his story. Diane suggested I be the one to to do it. I get to make his day.

What a great way to start mine.

300th Post

Couple of things on my mind. First of all, the count:

45765 / 110000 words. 42% done!

Secondly, I've been reading friends' work, in particular "Women of the Apocalypse" by Eileen Bell, Roxanne Felix, Billie Millholland, and Ryan T. McFadden (who I've never met except for today over FB and as a six foot stand-up launch poster, and may I say, he shows quite well :-). I am pleased to say that I've been enjoying the book, so here's a plug for it - it's a fun anthology of four novellas based on the four archangels, the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, and four plucky women who save the world. Good work guys! I'm part-way through Ryan's piece on 'Death' but I'm enjoying it so far, and I'm sure he will deliver. I also want to add that these four people are doing their damnedest to distribute this book on their own, so buy a copy. I'll withhold my comments on what I think a publisher should do and should not do for his writers - if you know me well enough, you'll know my stand on this, but I'm not here to carp. Instead, BUY A COPY!

Finally, FB has been making me grumpy lately, mostly because I've been working my tuckus (sp?) off, and it's annoying to see so many happy people doing so well. But I had a good day of writing, so I'm not going to complain too much. They all deserve their success for all of their hard work, and hopefully, my day will come around, once again, too. Wish novels didn't take so damn long to write and then rewrite. So it goes.

So, all in all, a good day. Happy 300th post, Suzenyms. Yay, me.

If You're a Writer, It's Not Really About You

I've been busy reading manuscripts, and I thought I'd share a little something that occurred to me awhile back. If you're a writer, it's not about you.

What do I mean? Simply this - the reader is your customer. If you want to sell your work, you're there to either entertain or to affect. If you're not doing that, you're not doing your job.

Yes, it's a joy to write. Yes, we can only write what is in us and what we see as our truth, but if we don't entertain or move our audience, we've forgotten them.

I think it's so important that we know why we're telling a particular story. If the answer is 'well, I thought it was a cool idea and I wanted to explore it,' or 'I feel strongly about such and so,' that's fine, just so long as you also tell a story that engages or touches. But notice - the 'I' in both of those reasons. Those excuses are focused on the writer and not on whom the writer hopes to reach.

So, why are you telling your story? Will it entertain or affect your readers in a good way? And 'good' is relative, depending on the type of story you're telling. As an editor, I read stories all the time that affect me, but not necessarily in a way that I like.

So strive to entertain or affect. If your story is amusing, funny, or a nice diversion to my everyday life, great. If it touches me, involves me, makes me sympathetic, thrills me, uplifts me, or makes me think, that's fantastic. The world needs stories like that. Let your story be one of those.

Borrowed from NaNoWriMo

Hi. I borrowed this neat little grid from the NaNoWriMo site, just so I can keep track of my progress.

Here's where I stand to date:

40663 / 110000 words. 37% done!

I took a couple of days off this week for various reasons - mostly because I had to think about the plot in Part Three and the family was off yesterday due to Remembrance Day, and E is out of school today due to Teachers' Convention. So, I'm behind in my weekly quota and have to make up 2,700 words tomorrow. I guess the grid will show how I do.

Have slush to read from the On Spec slush pile, as well as some manuscripts to crit from the Cult of Pain. I'll likely start on those tonight.

Remembrance Day

Today is my mother's birthday. I find I have to remember that, because it's sometimes easy to forget when I think about Canada's current involvement in Afghanistan, as well as all those lives lost in past wars. Being a Wednesday, we already celebrated her birthday last Sunday night, took her out for dinner, and gave her a nice prezzie. I must remember to call her today.

But that's not really what I want to write about. People are pretty divided here about Canada's involvement in Afghanistan. Some are very vocal about it, saying we need to pull out, we have no business war-mongering, there is no solution, our troops are being killed. I think others, like myself, tend to stay quiet because we support Canada's presence there. I suppose now, I've painted myself as some kind of a war hawk, but I can't help but remember the innocents - women and children - who were rounded up by the Taliban and shot in soccer fields because they weren't willing to be repressed or because they simply forgot to cover up an elbow. I can't forget the Afghan women who died slow suicides when the Taliban were in power, because they were abandoned and too depressed to feed themselves. Right now, they can't find enough teachers to teach in some areas of Afghanistan, for fear of the school becoming a target and children being blown up. Imagine, for a moment, if we had to worry about sending our kids to school, because some terrorist group considered them a viable target.

This is what our troops are fighting. So, I guess for me the question is - are we willing to turn our backs on what is so obviously wrong, because it means the sacrifice of some of our own? If we pull out, what does that say to the Canadian families who have already lost their sons and daughters to a road-side bomb or a Taliban bullet? Did their deaths not count? And once Canada has pulled out, are we so naive as to believe that one small part of the world may fester, but we won't be affected by it? Don't you believe it. These things don't stay put. Look at what's already happening in Pakistan.

Our grandfathers didn't leave because their involvement cost them too much. They stayed and fought. Many of them paid with their lives. Let's remember that.

Wrapped Part Two

I've been clocking my progress. The book is sitting at 39,676 words, and I'm fairly happy with it. So, here it is, November 9th and I started rewriting on September 2nd. Not too bad, not too unexpected considering; I had hoped for approximately 20,000 words a month (or 5,000 words a week) and I'm pretty much there. Some days are more prolific than others. I hope to get as much as I can completed in November (NaNoWriMo notwithstanding), because I know December will be a wash; I'll likely only write for half the month because of the holidays.

Anyway, at this rate, I hope the first draft will be done by the end of March. I have pirated sections of the old book for the new, but actually, not as much as I thought. There will be a bit more of that with the middle and the end.

The big differences between the last version and this one involve the characters (they are darker), they have stronger motivations, the beginnings are new, and finally, - the reason I really had to start fresh with this book - the points of view. I've really limited the latter. I think the tone is much more consistent.

So, this has been a good exercise. It's like the old adage, if at first you don't succeed, rewrite.

Someone once said, "I don't think you can revise too often." Oh wait. That was me. :-)

I am SO Checking the Weather Next Time

So after the whinging of my last post, I sat down yesterday and wrote 2,400 words, no sweat, and was done by 2:00 p.m. Today, I tweaked and added 50 words only because the day was jumbled - E had a doctor's appointment this morning at 8:30 and I had to drive her to school, I stopped in to see D and drop off a grant cheque, then I popped into the bird store to pick up peanuts for the blue jays because they were all out, but mostly, what took up the time was the weather, which was the PITS, so it took three times as long to get anywhere - I finally got home around 11:00 a.m. Then I tweaked the new stuff for about an hour before I had to take the car in to the dealer - it's been bleeding green blood (coolant). No problem - the block heater just needed replacing and it's under warranty. After that, I waited for and picked up a prescription for E from Shoppers Drug Mart, and finally got home again around 3:00.

Next time? I am SO checking the weather before I schedule errands that aren't supposed to take any time at all.

Pulling Teeth, Pulling Words

I'm 1000 words into Part Two, and I seem to be going through a rough patch where writing feels like I'm having to fight with myself to get the words right. I think there are probably a few reasons for this - mostly because I am working on a major revision where the plot is similar at the key points, but so much of the book is not. I know the Part One revision is better than the old version (IMHO, but yes, it is), but that was harder to rewrite, too. Everything is up for change, and it could change from what I've already planned. I think once the sub-plots mesh, I am also rethinking if they stay the same as they were in the old book, or if they become entirely different, and I have no idea what that might be which is daunting. I suspect part of the trouble is me second-guessing myself - does this work? does it feel forced? is the quality up to par? Will all of this effort make the book so much better? And - fear of fears, am I the only one who is going to appreciate what I've done, once it's finished? I do get a lot of joy out of writing, but eventually I hope it'll be appreciated by others. So in the meantime, it's work, work, work.

This is such a crazy business, such an insane way to live a life. There are no guarantees of success, although success is also relative. It depends on just how high you raise the bar, and I've set my own sights fairly high.

Writing is really tough on people emotionally. If you succeed, you win and everybody applauds you (except perhaps, for other writers who have yet to succeed themselves, and I point that out very tongue-in-cheek. I think we all suffer from publishing envy, now and then, some of us more than others). When you lose - fail to publish - you not only beat yourself up but others (usually non-writers) tend to patronize that you've wasted your time. No wonder writers can turn so bitter. Humility is a much tougher route to choose.

So, being neither particularly humble, nor yet too bitter, I'm just going to ignore all of that and write.

Off to wrestle with Part Two.

Baggage Claim

I woke up this morning, going over a lot of things that have happened in the past year. It was worthwhile, I think, because I finally came to the conclusion that there comes a point when one's baggage becomes one's history. I felt like I woke up to that this morning - almost as if the thought snicked something into place.

I hold grudges. I really wish I didn't. I find my anger lifts its head at the most unexpected times, and when it does, it bothers me that I'm still bothered. I even have a visual for it - my baggage looks like a ratty blanket that's been torn to shreds and has old tin cans, dirt, and dead weeds attached to it. As I walk, I leave a trail. I don't like it at all, and wish it would just disintegrate.

Anyway, this morning, I realized that the past isn't meant to be wiped clean. You can't undo the nasties that have been done to you. You can, however, realize that they are a part of your history, and that's the best place for them.

Slow Week

It's been a slow week, writing-wise. Part of the trouble stemmed from a PD day on Tuesday and E home with me, and me deciding that since she was home and needed a winter coat, it would be a good day to go shop for one for her. Today, the furnace guy showed up to check the furnace and Mike has the day off before he leaves to visit his mother in Nanoose Bay for Thanksgiving. I'd go, but Tessa needs someone to take care of her, and with the kids so busy, it's better if I stay here. Yesterday, I helped a friend sew costumes for the upcoming launch of her book which is happening next weekend at the Strathcona Library. So, instead of five days of uninterrupted writing time, I've had two.

Despite the lack of time, I still managed to write and tweak a new 4,000 word short story. I also set down 1000 words into Part Two of the novel.

I'm starting to feel like I'm straining at the bit. I am SO looking forward to next week.