Thursday, January 17, 2013

Guest Post: What Justifies a Larger Word Count In Speculative Fiction. And What Doesn't.



 Today's Guest Blog Post comes from author, Aaron Bradford Starr, a fellow Speculative Fiction Group member. Aaron's published short stories, paintings, and interior art in Black Gate Magazine, Black Gate Online, and Stupefying Stories. Follow him on his blog, Imaginary Friend or on Twitter

I was visiting with my old friend, Joyce, one summer, when the subject of word count came up. We were sitting on the veranda of her chrysanthemum plantation, after a leisurely day of beekeeping, and I happened to mention I’d recently finished my current manuscript. After a round of congratulations, she inquired as to its length, and was horrified when I answered it was 200K, give or take. Setting down her mint lemonade with trembling hands, she composed herself.

“Surely you can whittle that down, in the next draft? Eliminating about half the book should just about do it!” It is to her credit she didn’t rub her hands together in anticipation, being, as she was at the time, in the throes of a stint with flash fiction and haiku. The opportunity to assist in editing such a work as mine had her mentally sharpening her reddest pencil in anticipation.

I shook my head. “No, I think it’s about right. A little tightening, perhaps, is called for, but it’s the right length for the story it tells.”

“But think of the trees!” she exclaimed, waving to the stately oaks that stood in the distance, across the fields. “No environmentally conscious agent would ever represent such a behemoth.”

“Ah, but the speculative fiction genres tend to run longer than others,” I reminded her.

“Poppycock!” she responded, then amended herself. “Well, some authors do. But new authors must keep under 115K, or so. At least for their first novel.”

“I suppose,” I said. “But can you not think of any legitimate reasons why a novel might be allowed to run long?”

Taking up her tea once more, she leaned back into her wicker chair, considering, and we sat awhile, the only sound the wind across the fields, carrying to us the scent of flowers. “Well,” she said at last, “the setting itself might need more visual description than in other genres.”

I nodded, thinking of my lovingly crafted vistas. “Yes, yes!” I agreed. “The setting is a primary way to invite the reader into your new world. A believable, vivid setting will go a long way toward suspending the reader’s disbelief.”

“True,” Joyce said. “And once the magic or SF-stuff gets into full gear, you can always fall back on the setting. The way the world reacts to your imaginary dangers and resolutions does make it easier to support the completely impossible, I would think.”

“So you agree, then?”

“Not so fast!” she said, fixing me with the calculating gaze that has set so many authors to flight. I swallowed, taking an unsteady sip of my tea.

“What about keeping your writing tight?” she asked. “Lean and mean?”

“You can do that,” I said, thinking furiously. “I fact, my first novel, which I’ve since split up into a trilogy due to it’s very great size, had exactly this quality. The first draft was entirely too fast, for all of its length. I actually had to add in as much as I took out, and a bit more besides, in the following drafts. Speculative fiction needs to carefully control the pace. Readers must be allowed to process the new before more is piled on, and this is most easily done by exploring a bit of the familiar in between.”

Joyce nodded, mulling this over. “Yes,” she allowed. “I suppose that’s true. Sometimes, slowing down the pace a bit is necessary.” Her eyes widened in outrage. “But not with fluff!”

“No, never,” I agreed quickly. “You can do so with exploring the character’s personalities, or the setting, as we agreed before.”

“Maybe,” she said, scowling. “But I still think that seventeen syllables should be sufficient for anyone.” As someone who wrote the definitive haiku version of Lord of the Rings, I couldn’t argue her point too directly, so I tried another tack.

“But if the reader’s interest is held, nay, embraced, by a longer work, is word count actually a problem?” I asked. “Length isn’t always bloat, as we’ve agreed. Now, multiplying these considerations with complex plots, a longer work might well be necessary.”

“True,” she said. “But that isn’t license to lollygag with literary bric-a-brac! It’s still better to err on the side of brevity.”

“If an error is necessary,” I agreed, relieved at our accord.

“An error is always necessary, in fiction,” Joyce said, sipping her tea. She waved a hand at the fields before us. “With the petals of these chrysanthemums, I make the finest red pencils in the world. And where would my fortune go, if not for the endless errors of authors?”

“Where indeed?” I asked, and we clinked glasses, settling in to watch the sun set over the distant trees.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Falling in Love with Your World

Today I'm guest blogging over at Writing From the Padded Room. Drop by and share your thoughts and questions regarding world building.

*The above link no longer works. Here is the article I wrote:



I intend to go down one world building road today, only one. This road is probably the brightest and most fantastic of them all, yet fraught with some of the darkest perils for a writer. Like anything else, you can wield it as a mighty tool, or be destroyed when it backfires on you. Ready to take that trip with me?

You have a story idea, or even a rough draft done. Maybe a draft two or three and you’ve realized that your story sounds too much like what has already been done. Maybe agents and editors are saying the same in their rejection letters. World building is one way to make your story stand out from anyone else’s. They say there are only so many plots one can write by. Gimmicks and twists can change those up only so much.  After awhile, agents are tired of seeing another love story about—vampires! Or wait—demigods! No? Um…mermaids? Secret fairy spies? Aliens? Once a gimmick has trended, it gets worn through for a number of years. But that’s a whole other subject.

A unique world can take your plot, its gimmicks and twists to new levels.

The first stop on our road, indeed, the very first step, is to hike up your sleeves, put on your biggest thinking cap, and let your imagination fly faster, farther, and wilder than it ever has before. Be uninhibited. Have paper and pen or an open document up on your computer.

Start with something basic, like where the protagonist comes from or is at the start of the story. What is this place like? How does it affect the protagonist’s view of their world, what they like, what they hate, what they are capable of, what obstacles are in their way? That one little blip of world building can open up more twists to your story. You may even change your mind about what the protagonist’s internal conflict is.

The same can happen the longer you jot down ideas, play with them, toss out the most obvious ones, and latch onto ones you had to think longer and harder about. One of the best pieces of advice I ever received was to write down my ideas for something (say, what magical rule is going to trip up my heroine the most,) then write down five more after that, then another five more, and five more again. Then choose the last thing I thought of. We think of the most obvious clichés and tropes first. The same ones other writers are thinking of or using.

Ever get frustrated when you see a book or movie come out that used an idea you’d been carefully crafting for the past year? *Raises hand.*

Have fun with your world building, let it work for you. And now here comes the dangerous pitfall: don’t fall in love too deeply with your newly crafted world. It’ll be hard not to.

Here’s what happens when your world becomes your beloved. The plot takes a back seat. The characters take a back seat or become grafted to the scenery.

Because good world building is time intensive and you invest a lot of effort into it, the temptation is to use it all. We visualize this place so well that all we want is for readers to see it exactly the way we do. This often leads to:

1. Over describing. Every. Little. Detail. About. Everything. Every. Step. Of. The. Story.
Pitfall: The reader is now bored. The reader skims. The reader has failed to catch your enthusiasm.
Remedy: Keep to character. What details will your character notice at that moment, in their present mood and circumstances? If they’re wounded, they’re not likely to enjoy how plush the carpet is beneath their feet or wonder what the runes in the crown molding might mean. If they’re hungry, they’ll be noticing things that either make them feel hungrier or looking for a solution to satisfy that hunger. If they are angry, they are more likely to stomp on the flowers than smell them. Remember, this needs to come from your point of view character, not you as the writer and world builder.

2. Info dumping.
Pitfall: Too much too soon (I’m looking at you, lengthy prologue.) The reader starts to skim. Or worse, the reader closes the book due to slow pacing.
Remedy: Keep your plot in the forefront of your mind, especially at the beginning of a story. What is your inciting event, the happening that sets the story in motion? That needs to be as near the front as possible. Not all the backstory on how your space station was constructed and why. The real trick to backstory and especially world building backstory, is breaking it up. Filter it in throughout the book. Weave it. Say three chapters in, your hero gets into trouble with the high command and is brought before a disciplinary council. This would be a better spot for him to bitterly recall how he’d once sat on that council when it was first organized and how inner-politics ousted him from power. Keep it brief and to the point. It’ll also add punch to the scene by including internal development and motivation for the character.

3. Too much show and not enough tell.
Pitfall: You’re now saying “What? We’re supposed to show not tell.” Here’s the problem, dear writer, and one I’ve had to learn the hard way. The show, don’t tell rule is primarily for characterization. Let me emphasize that again: The show, don’t tell rule is primarily for characterization. It is bad business to use when world building. Here’s the primary problem: you know the ins and outs of your world, your readers do not. And if you never take the time to explain things, you lose your readers. You can show them over and over again your characters actions and reactions, but if the reader isn’t grounded in why your characters are behaving that way or why these types of strange things are going on, they can’t be invested in your world.

The second big pitfall with this one is word count. Speculative fiction gets extra space for word count because of world building. This is our lucky break. Don’t blow it. Showing everything and not leaving some things to simple summary bloats your word count to unacceptable lengths. Again, you can fall prey to over detailed description, backstory, flashback, and too much side plot when all you do is show.

Remedy: Stick to your basic story and characters. Know your key scenes. Know what needs to forward the plot. Keep the extra stuff out or down to short explanation.

Trust me on this one. It’s a bear to fix and can derail your book completely.

4. The writer is caught in another land.
Pitfall: You’ve enjoyed your world building so much that all you want to do is stay in that world. You don’t think you can put forth the same effort into another world for another story, or you simply don’t want to. So you create a never ending series of book ideas in this world, regardless of whether you have the right sort of characters to endure so much or enough well-thought out plot to ply readers with.
Remedy: The first step is accepting you have this problem and step away from this world for awhile. I don’t mean a week or two. Try a year. Force yourself to work on something else, situated in somewhere else. It’ll be hard at first but worth it. Use your experienced world building skills to spin a new world, make sure it’s very different from your first one. Better yet, try your hand at writing something that takes place in the actual world. It’ll give you more ideas for when you create your next world.

5. The writer becomes bitter at reader reaction.
Pitfall: This is probably the darkest and most dangerous of them all because this one deals with real emotions and real people. I’ve known writers, really good writers, who fell into the world building pit and when others have tried to pull them out have reacted badly. They develop a huge chip on their shoulders. They refuse to try to fix the errors because they are in perpetual denial. They believe that world building is the top priority of writing. Then they go about tearing down other writers’ worlds and stories because they can’t find many readers for their own. This is self-destructive behavior and a quick way to become ostracized from the writing community.
Remedy: If you find yourself feeling bitter or thinking that everyone doesn’t get your world, pull away from that world right now. Take a long break from it. Read outside your genre. You don’t have to throw away all your years of hard work. You just need to get your focus back. You’re part of an ancient tradition, first done orally, then in the written word. Storytelling. If you’ve lost your storytelling focus, then you aren’t really writing something story readers want to read. Story comes first, no matter what the genre. And if you buried story in favor of building a world, you’ve lost your focus.

So there you have it. The euphoria and despair of world building. It’s a skill that needs fine tuning, patience, and the right vision. You won’t become an expert over night. Like all aspects of writing, it is a necessary tool in the writer’s arsenal. Here some other online resources to help with world building and to share some perspective:

 

Guest Post: Adding Genre Without Switching Genre

Today's guest blogpost comes from Eli Ashpence, author and fellow Speculative Fiction Group Member. She is the author of Genocide to Genesis:
"Eighty years after World War Three, the immortal Val is one of the few who lives long enough to see the modern world of science crumble into a medieval world of magic."

"The world can change in a matter of minutes. No one knows this better than Val, a life-sucking immortal who wanders the world in search of amusements. The latest, in a city twisted by fallout, is the role of "Vampire Val, Private Detective." But no diversion is lasting enough when the Earth itself incites a massive apocalypse - one that Val has to live through and, possibly, learn from."

Without further ado:

"Adding Genre without Switching Genre" might sound simple on the surface.  It's a little romance in your fantasy or a little erotica in your horror.  It's a little mystery in your sci-fi and a little crime in your paranormal.  But where does an author draw the line?  How can you stop your Alternate-History/Dystopia from turning into a mess of A.History/ Dystopia/ Inspirational/ LGBT?
I'll try to answer this with the experience I've gained from crossing that line.  First, and foremost, you must decide on a primary and secondary genre.  Planners usually decide this during their outline phase.  Pantsters (those that write by the seat of their pants) should have some idea by chapter 3. 
You'd be surprised—or maybe not—at how many writers don't decide their genre until they're ready to query an agent or publisher.  I know I didn't think of it until after I wrote my first novel.  I just wanted to see what would happen next with Character X in Setting Y. However, it makes everything easier when this “little detail” is written in stone. 
Mostly, knowing your primary and secondary genres ahead of time will allow you to better recognize when you're deviating.  And THAT allows you to pick and choose which genres will benefit the story rather than distracting from it.
(This is also why you only list your primary and secondary in your query letter.  You don't want agents and publishers to think your writing lacks focus.)
This is where you say, “Get to the point!  How do you add genre without switching your genre?”
I'm assuming you already know what genre you want to add.  And, for that, there are two *main* methods to consider.  Those are:
1.  Ommission:  I'm not trying to punk you.  This IS an option.  Try to explain the story (to yourself) with the extra genre thrown in.  If it's overload when you try to explain it, then it'll be overload when you write it.  So, don't write it.  Pick two genres (primary and secondary) and stick with them.  This method is usually suited for planners that can stick to an outline. 
2.  Side Stories:  Whatever tertiary genres you pick to add to your story should be relegated to side stories.  This will keep your main genre clear by keeping your main plot-line clear.  I believe this method is suited for pansters that don't bother writing outlines.  As an added bonus, side stories are easier to edit out than trying to remove details integrated into the core plot.
Of course, no one method is 'one size fits all'.  If it were, this would be a rather short post and Clipper would hide my cookies. 
Other options to add genre:
3.      Contrivances:  Every story has minor items/things that don't quite fit, but aren't genre-breaking.  For example, a magic mirror in a sci-fi/horror, or a jet pack in an erotica/romance, or buying a magic charm in a mystery/western.  These are good for adding the flavor of a different genre without adding the entire genre.  Sometimes, this is all an author needs to soothe the craving for 'more'.
4.      Settings:  Dream settings are the most commonly used to add another genre.  However, there are also paintings, books within the world, and distant lands/planets/amusement parks that can be mentioned in passing.  Again, sometimes the mention is enough.

And that's it!  Did you expect something else?  Maybe you thought I was  going to come in here and list fifty ways for you to salvage your horror/crime/urban fantasy/romance?  How about just one?
5.      Simplifying Fractions:  (Horror/Crime*urban fantasy/romance = Crime/Urban Fantasy) Make sense?  It's important to know the expectations within genres.  No matter how horrific crime becomes, it's still crime.  And most fantasies (of any type) include some kind of romance.  The important part is to identify what genre is most inclusive to all aspects of your novel. Everything else is just gravy. 
Although.... too much gravy can make you sick.  ^_^

Further Reading:

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Stop What You're Doing and Watch This.

This was all-too familiar for me. It probably will be to you as well. And if you're new on the writing/publishing journey, all dewy-eyed and excited, this will be some of the best advice you'll ever get.

Rilla Alexander: Without the Doing, Dreaming Is Useless


Thoughts?

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Guest Post: Five Tips for Editing & A Few Resources

I want to welcome T.J. to Yesternight's Voyage today. T.J. is a member of the Speculative Fiction Group, a savvy reader and editor, and she blogs over at Writing From the Padded Room, a blog meant to help new writers. Be sure to add her blog to your regular reading roll.

Holy cow! You did it! Wrote a novel/short story and are reveling in the euphoric feeling that comes with such a great accomplishment. Before doing anything else, I suggest letting your newly written MS sit while you celebrate.



Now that it is done (you've celebrated, and lived in the world where it doesn't need editing) comes the part many dread and fear. Edits.

The first, and probably most important part of preparing to edit, is to ensure you have Critique Partners. Those wonderful people who agree to read over your work, help find plot holes, world building issues, spelling, grammar, passive writing, and are willing to be the partner in crime while you break the "rules" of writing.

It is tough and scary to let someone else put red ink all over the new baby. But it must be done.

Once you receive their advice, comes the truly hard part. You have to make those changes, correct the issues, decide if an idea in certain places will work or not.

Here are five tips to help with the editing process:

Editors look for grammar, spelling, overuse of pronouns and reality issues.

This is the first pass of your MS. Don't read. One of the best ideas? Get ready to highlight in the document. Highlight every single pronoun - he/him/himself/she/her/herself/I/me/myself. You'll be surprised at how many show up. As you go through your one hundred plus pages, simply sweep for those words.

Next, you'll need to look for spelling. Luckily, with today's software programs, spelling errors are pointed out while writing the rough draft. Although some of us, like me, have a tendency to zoom past them with the thought, "I'll catch it later." I really should get out of that habit.

And finally, grammar and reality issues. This will require reading.

By reality, I mean did you do your research? Even writing fiction, where we get to twist everything to our own nefarious ends, all things should have a good solid foundation. Writing about the gods? Make sure you stick close to what the average reader understands about their stories and personalities. Twist it all you like, but without the familiarity the reader will question it and lose their ability to suspend reality. And if writing hard science fiction? It is best to have all those little details deeply nestled in current theories, proven hypotheses, and easily reasearched points.

Grammar is fluid, but it does have hard and fast rules which should be followed. Know them, ensure you keep as close as possible to the rules. Many readers don't mind dialect, but they will become Grammar Nazis when it comes to glaring issues.

Edit out unnecessary paragraphs.

What is unnecessary? You'd be surprised at those little paragraphs written into rough drafts which don't push the story forward. I'm as guilty as the next person. Perhaps at the time I wrote it, the hope it would show more about the main character, or how bad the bad guy really is. Realistically? No. It was well written, beautiful prose. But it has no true point, doesn't move the plot forward and doesn't help the reader. I know you love it and can justify it in twenty different ways. Cut it. Be ruthless. Tear it out and know it helps your story, not hinder.

Edit all that passive writing.

Editors complain often about the massive amount of passive writing in an otherwise great story. It tells the story, cuts the reader's ability to fall into the world of your imagination, doesn't allow the reader to feel like they are part of the action.

Here you can do another highlighter session. What is passive writing?



Passive is usually denoted by was/were/have been/is, etc. Follow the advice of Rebecca Johnson and you'll have a fun way to find all the passive writing in your work. Some passive is fine. A lot needs work.

Shew! So far you've taken care of mechanical issues! Yay! You're done, right?

No. I'm sorry. Still two more things need to be done.

Time to look at the characters.

Editors have complained the story premise is fantastic but the characters fall flat. Romance characters come across as big bags of hormones, SciFi characters are only interested in gaining power, Urban Fantasy characters are only interested in becoming something like a werewolf/vampire/witch/ghost/god.

It is a common complaint. Characters need to be able to pull empathy from readers. When falling into the alternate realities being weaved by writers, a reader should be able to either understand why the main character feels certain things, even if the reader disagrees. All the characters in a book should be three dimensional. The villain has a soft spot, the MC made a bad decision for good reasons.

Flesh out the idiosyncrasies, show the readers the characters are possible.

And finally, check the timeline.

Meaning, check your plot and the progression of the story. Did it stutter in a few spots? How did you fix that plot hole? Is there a way to strengthen the tension and move the plot forward in a more seamless manner? Did you write a scene just to get to the next one? Yes? Is that repaired? Have you cleared up any confusing/awkward sentencing? Did you check to ensure the little details all match and move forward with the story? If a character drove a truck to the restaurant but a car to leave, you'd better be able to explain why.

These are the five things all editors look at. Either during the intial submission or after the book has been chosen and is in the editing phase. Yes, every editor is as unique as the people writing. But the five points laid out above are ones they all agree on.

Give your story its best start when going out into the big, bad world. It must compete in a very subjective industry, and depends on you to make it the best it can be.

If you need more tips and tricks to editing, I suggest the following as additional reading.