A Successful Writer's Secret Weapon

Be careful with whom you share your dreams.

A very wise friend, who just so happens to coauthor this blog with me, has told me this on several occasions. And I’d like to pay the advice forward.

I think writers have very difficult and occupation-specific struggles. We’re proud of our talents and abilities and are eager to share our goals and aspirations with others. But the world is full of people who either deliberately, or sometimes unintentionally, shred our dreams with a careless word. Some are motivated by envy to destroy another’s hope and belief in himself; others are too pessimistic to see a successful future for anyone in such a competitive market.

With that being said, every writer needs to have someone to confide in, to bounce ideas off of, and to celebrate or commiserate with. One of the most powerful tools in a writer’s arsenal is an honest, encouraging confidant—someone who can run alongside you, offering advice, praise, and the occasional painful lecture. I can’t tell you how many times Cheryl’s had to give me a swift kick in the pants, in order to reenergize me or help rein in my focus. And she’s been my biggest cheerleader, believing in me when I was ready to throw in the proverbial towel.

The fact that I’m still dedicated to this life as a struggling writer is a testament to the power of having a small handful of people who are respectful of my dream and unafraid of pushing me past what I think I can do. So my advice for today is to find the person or persons who are genuinely invested in your journey, who want your success almost as much as you do.

“I am a success today because I had a friend who believed in me,

and I didn’t have the heart to let him down . . .”
--Abraham Lincoln

--Mandy

The Gift of Craftsmanship

With Christmas fast approaching, many of us have gift giving on our minds. If you’re like me, you might be feeling just a bit overwhelmed as you search for the perfect gift for your loved ones. My four-year-old is easy. His current obsession is bowling, so my husband and I feel pretty sure anything bowling-related will be a big hit.

But others in our family-you know the ones I mean, Mr. and Ms. Never Satisfied with Anything-present a greater challenge. Clothes are always too large or too small, the wrong color, or the latest trend too trendy. Candy is out of the question because you don’t want to be held responsible for ruining someone’s perpetual attempts at dieting, and jewelry . . . well, who can afford that anyway? Will this be the year we finally wow that impossible to shop for family member? Will we finally land on that perfect gift that will leave our loved ones happy and satisfied? Probably not.

Here’s the good news. While we may never satisfy those grumpy folks on our shopping lists, as writers, we can offer the perfect gift-fine craftsmanship-to our readers year round. Craftsmanship might not be a term you readily associate with writing. Perhaps the word craft conjures images of a woodworker, carpenter, or some other manual laborer. But the reality is that we as writers are practitioners of word craft. We are in the business of carefully constructing words in a way that effectively communicates with our readership. In order to do that, we must first be masters of the tools of our trade.

What does that mean exactly? As boring and unglamorous as it is, we must know and practice the basics of good writing-punctuation, spelling, grammar, effective and accurate diction. Our job is to powerfully (and clearly) share our insights and emotions, but we can’t do that without knowing (and using well) the mechanics of effective communication.

So, yes, spelling counts. Correct and precise diction are indispensable. Punctuation matters. Sound grammar is a must.

I’ve given up on finding the perfect gift for my family members who refuse to be pleased. So, instead, I turn my focus to you, my writing friends. This Christmas, I offer you the best writing gift I can present. The Commitment to Practice Sound Craftsmanship.

May God bless you with the merriest of all Christmases.

--Cheryl

Things NOT to do when submitting a manuscript . . .

1) Do not misspell the publishing house’s name. This sounds obvious, but you’d be surprised.

2) Do not misspell the editor’s name. (See above). And to take this a step further, make sure that you get the person’s title correct. Do not assume that the person is merely an “editor” when they are the “publisher.” This may result in perpetual silence from the company. Not that I have ever done this, or experienced said silence, of course.

3) Do not forget to actually attach the attachments if sending an email submission. Having to send a follow up email apologizing for your stupidity makes you look, well, stupid. Once again, not that I know this from experience.

4) Do not hesitate to remind the person of your association. If you met at a conference and the editor requested to see your work, be sure to remind him of that in the email. Editors and agents see so many aspiring writers that it’s foolish to believe they will remember you specifically.

5)Do not send in your only copy. In today’s computer-centered society, it’s difficult to imagine that anyone would only have one copy of a manuscript, but what I mean is your only hard copy. Zip your manuscript through a Xerox machine before you mail it. If I had a dime for every flash drive that self-destructed and erased my work because it could no longer stand the honor of housing my brilliance, I’d have about $.75 (I’ve never been good at math). But you get the point. Sometimes I had hard copies to save me . . . and the other times, well, we don’t talk about those.

6) Do not include ringing endorsements in your cover/query letter unless they really matter (For example . . . "Queen Elizabeth II read my story, and she REALLY liked it). If it's not that special, leave it out. While your mother may have called your novel the “next DaVinci Code,” the sad truth is that mothers have to say that kind of stuff…even when it’s untrue. And usually, it is.

7)Do not tell the editor/agent/publisher how much he/she will love your work. For obvious reasons, presumption and arrogance is off-putting to some. Hard to fathom, I know.

8) Do not stalk the editor. Once the submission has been sent, sit back and relax (easy enough to say, I know). Understand that publishing professionals are inundated daily with stuff, and it may take them some time to get to your manuscript. Sending emails every hour on the hour, or calling the office incessantly will probably only get you a restraining order in the mail, not an acceptance letter.


--Mandy

Avoiding the Information Dump

Here are two scenes, both expressing the exact same exchange, same place, same time, etc.

#1:

“Hey,” Donald Williams said to the cashier without pausing in his efforts to unload the cart’s contents onto the conveyer belt.

Why was he even here? It was a Friday night, and he was thirty years old, raised in the booming metropolis of New York City, and single. And pathetic man that he was, he was buying Doritos and goldfish food at nine o’clock. Of course, he wouldn’t be out grocery shopping alone if Aileen hadn’t left, but really, that had been months ago. One would think by now he’d be over that, ready to get back in the game so to speak. But the only game he played lately was Scrabble. On the computer. By himself.

It was nothing like when he used to play Scrabble with his younger twin sisters. Those were the times. All three would sit around the scarred oak table chortling over someone’s attempt to convince the others that “jafflequ” was indeed a word. But that had been before both Isabel had gotten married and Roxanne had run off to Archeology school. Their parents still didn’t like to talk about it. But since the divorce the fourteen years ago, they didn’t like to talk about anything.

He ran his hand through his sandy brown hair, looking up in surprise as the bagger asked, “Paper or Plastic, sir?”


#2

“Hey,” he said to the cashier without pausing in his efforts to unload the cart’s contents onto the conveyer belt. And he tried to ignore the inescapable lameness of being a single man in the grocery store on Friday night.

As he lobbed the Doritos onto belt, his mind wandered, tossing up images of happier, less lonely times to torment him. He was so lost in his reverie that he was startled by the bagger’s voice asking, “Paper or Plastic, sir?”


Succumbing to the “Information Dump” temptation is a common mistake for both new and seasoned writers, and for those who write both fiction and nonfiction. As the ones telling the story, we think the reader needs to have every single detail right off the bat in order to appreciate the literary magic we’re working. We rationalize our back story overload by convincing ourselves that the readers will toss the book aside in disgust if they don’t find out in the first paragraph that the protagonist is 6 feet tall with a learning disability.

Many publishing professionals will tell aspiring authors that there should be absolutely no trace of back story in the first chapter. Others will disagree, seeing the near impossibility of having an entire chapter free of any mention of the past. I think there is a happy medium.

As writers, we need to trust that our audience will “get it” if we’ve done the rest of our job correctly. They’ll wait patiently for several chapters, maybe even half the book, to find out what drives the characters and makes them tick. We can drop bits of information here and there without overloading the reader and confusing him with too much too soon.

So, the best way to avoid the temptation to drop an entire biography of the character into your reader’s lap is to choose your words carefully. Consider the relationship between the reader and your character to be as fragile as the interaction between two people on a blind date. Neither needs to know initially that one snores in his sleep and the other has a foot fungus that won’t go away even after exhaustive treatment. A little mystery can be nice.

Essential, even.

--Mandy

Voice: The Art of Speaking

Why is it that most of us aren’t satisfied with who we are? We see ourselves as too fat, too skinny, too tall, too short. If we have long hair, we worry that it’s too long. If it’s short, we ponder whether it’s worth the price to get extensions. When we’re young, we can’t wait to be older, and somewhere around forty, we long for the footloose and fancy-free days of our youth.

Writers are no different. Many of us struggle with accepting our own voice. We want to “sound” like someone else. If we have a tendency to write long, adjective filled sentences, we decry the fact that we can’t be more like Hemingway, keeping our prose short, simple, and to the point. If our style tends more toward the straight forward, we wish we could “pretty” it up a bit.

As writers, we must learn to embrace our individual ways of speaking. While I’m enamored by the well placed turn of phrase in some of my favorite authors, the bottom line is that I am not Eudora Welty, Flannery O’Connor, or William Faulkner. I’m simply me, and I’ve been given a unique way of communicating that’s good enough.

Maybe not everyone will appreciate the way I “say” things in writing. Perhaps some will find my voice mundane, trite, or boring. That’s okay. Those people will look elsewhere for the information I’m sharing. But there are those who will find my voice refreshing and clear. That’s the audience I’m writing for.

As a mother, I can pick out my son’s voice in a crowd. I sense when his tone indicates anger, frustration, or joy. And, because I know what’s communicated in the tone, the nuances that go deeper than the words he speaks, I respond appropriately. You’ll only be able to communicate to your reader at that heart level when you’re true to the voice God has given you. Trust that you have a valuable way of communicating. Then, don’t waste your time trying to sound like the writer you admire most. Speak in your voice to the people who need to hear your words and will appreciate your unique style.

Eventually, your readers will become so sure of your voice that they, like a mother with her child, will “hear” the truth in your message that communicates at a level deeper than words.

--Cheryl

A Conundrum

I hope those reading will indulge me for one post; I will try, one day in the future, not to venture much into the murkiness of my own issues. Today is not that day.

I like to think that I have all the answers; really, I really do. My friends will tell you that pretending to be an authority on something is probably my favorite pastime. But today, November 13, 2008, I am admitting that I’ve finally been stymied.

What, you may be asking yourselves, is so far outside the bounds of reality that Mandy doesn’t know the answer? I’ll grant you, it is hard to even imagine.

But here goes.

I have been given the opportunity to finally cast off the chains of employment and work for myself instead. (And really, who could envision a better boss?). I would be able to do something I’ve been talking about for years—become a stay at home mother, and a full time writer.

But, as any writer will tell you, there are no guarantees in the business. What might win the Pulitzer one day could land in an editor’s trash heap the next.

So while, at the moment, I have the promise of steady work, I can’t be certain it will be that way next month. I might be inundated with work, making millions (I wish), or I might be selling second-hand buttons door to door.

Am I crazy to even consider leaving stable employment in this economy? Am I wanting this so badly that I’m following my own desires, rather than the ultimate Plan for my life? It's a mystery to me.

So, as one writer to another, I’m looking for advice, assistance, past tales of woe or glory. And even if you’ve never had to make this decision, even if your writing is more personal than public, humor me and let me know what you would do. I’m asking a lot, I know. And I’m certainly not promising that I’m going to take anyone’s advice (because, sometimes, I like to be contrary), but I will heed it, and consider it thoughtfully.

So leave a comment if you will, and thank you for letting me break off the beaten path for a few paragraphs.

--Mandy

Graphic from everystockphoto.com

Dispelling the Writer's Myth

First, let me apologize for the lack of posting lately. Unfortunately, with the advent of Fall comes a myriad of physical ailments that leaves me sipping Thera-flu from a thermos and shaking my fist at the elements.

And in this state of general malaise, I haven't written at all. Not even a grocery list. Which brings me to the Writer's Myth:

You have to write everyday to be, or call yourself, a writer.

Balderdash. (Such a fun and under-appreciated word).

In the many conferences I've attended, someone in the industry invariably hands down this commandment and then looks pointedly right at me (although perhaps the last is merely a figment of my paranoia). And I shift uncomfortably in my seat, ashamed that I can't always meet that requirement.

Does that mean I'm not a writer? The thought takes hold, refusing to relinquish its grip until I comfort myself with the knowledge that these people are crazy.

Okay, maybe not crazy, maybe just unnaturally optimistic.

In the real world, where I live, stuff happens. The baby gets sick; I get sick; and the laundry grows into a pile that threatens to overtake the house. And while at times I'd love nothing more than to sit down everyday and stare at my laptop while the literary goodness fills the screen, it is not always feasible, and not always the most responsible thing for me to do.

Should I then beat myself up? Should I give back my "writer" badge, believing that I just must not want it enough? Do I spend the time when I can write worrying about the times when I can't?

No. To all of the above.

I keep on, using the Writer's Myth to challenge, not shame me. I trust in my ability to do what I'm supposed to--eventually. I realize that there is a difference in being my own harshest critic and my own personal bully. And when I can't find the time or energy to write one day, I listen to the critic who tells me to try harder, and I silence the bully who tells me that my heart just must not be in it.

--Mandy