Editing and the Five Stages of Grief

Happy Mother’s Day! Hope everyone reading had a fun, relaxing day with the kids or hanging out with Mom.

Reflecting on Mother’s Day made me think of how the creative process is often compared to childbirth. Novel writing is no exception. It can easily take nine months (sometimes longer!) to finish a writing project, editing being the hardest, lengthiest part. Most writers will agree they love drafting but hate editing. Why is it so painful to go back and review your own words? I know for me it’s tough to reread what I’ve written because I’m either too critical where I shouldn’t be and not tough enough where it counts. It’s brutal to admit that a favorite scene, a beloved character, or even a gratuitous line may not work and should be cut to improve the overall pacing, plot, and/or cast. So, as with a death or loss, the editing process can be subject to the five stages of grief: 

First comes denial: So what the word count of my YA novel is 150K? Surely the right agent will see the necessity of every single word and will fall in love with the project anyway. Their enthusiasm will exude as they pitch the story, and it will sell, as is, even though it’s twice as long as average and it’s a debut. George RR Martin’s first book in A Song of Ice and Fire was 300K, after all!

Then comes anger and maybe a touch of righteous indignation: How dare they (critique partner, beta reader, friend, agent, editor) say that (scene, character, line) doesn’t work? They just don’t get the story!! How can they expect me to hack away at what was surely created through divine inspiration, not to mention my own blood, sweat, and tears??

Bargaining: Okay, well, maybe if I just cut a few extraneous words, I can keep this scene …

Then depression and reluctant acceptance sets in: This is when you begin to realize making tough changes is necessary and will strengthen the overall story.

This is the time to really take a critical eye to the pages. Even though all the characters are like your children, you may find one of them isn’t moving the story forward, may be detrimental to the pacing, and needs to go.

As hard as it is to cut characters, sometimes deleting scenes is even more difficult. One scene can often change the outcome of the story, and if that pivotal event could (or should) be cut, even if that means rewriting the last third of the novel, it has to be done.

But what about those instances where changes will make the story different, not necessarily better. Maybe the advice you received was simply a personal preference of the reader. How can you tell the difference?

If more than one person gives you similar feedback about a scene or a plot point or if you’re not getting the response to a certain character the way you intended, it’s time to reevaluate. The critique can sting at first, but it’s best to wait a few days, let the advice sink in, and then go back with the red pen and mark up your work. It’s like chipping away at a slab of marble-- most edits will streamline and polish the story and let the really important points shine through. And in the end, your work will be improved, your message will be clearer, and the overall story will be all the better for it.

A Surviver's Guide to 2016 Writers Contests

I love contests. One of my prayers for the last five years, after I seriously started pursuing this writing thing, had been to win ACFW's Genesis Contest. ACFW is the American Christian Fictions Writers organization and winning or even finaling in their Genesis Contest for unpublished authors in one of the biggest honors in the Inspirational writing world. I know it's silly to want to stay unpublished/uncontracted to win a writing contest—after all, publication is the REAL goal, right?—but that win was still my prayer. 

And last year, in 2015, I won the YA category. Which sparked my willingness to change focus in my career and look toward indie publishing.

Now the 2016 contest season is here. Among my favorites are Genesis and the Rosemary. So it's time to polish up those opening pages!

I always get excited about the submission part. I'm eager to get feedback. And then, three or four months later, the results are in. The scoresheets are returned. And as I drown my emotions in a pint of Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby, I ask myself, "Why do I subject myself to this again and again and again?!?!?"

My scores may come back respectable. 96. 88. 92. 84. But somewhere in there, I'll get a 55. A 62. One lousy score out of a half dozen great scores, and that one failing mark leaves me questioning everything I thought I knew about writing and, more importantly, about my ability and my future as an author.

Despite positive feedback from the majority of the judges, that one low score is the only I fixate on. For some reason, I believe that judge is the only one being honest. That judge is the only one able to see that I am a failure as a writer. That judge is the only one I should listen to.

A big. Fat. Lie.

I'm guessing I'm not the only contest-junkie who fixates on the negative instead of the positive, even if the positive outweighs the negative. And even though I still haven't conquered that voice claiming the negative is the real truth, I have developed a survival guide to help me yell back at that voice.

1: Judges are Human

Because judges are human, they are subjective in their critique. Sometimes even in areas like mechanics their scores can be subjective. They may decide that two difficult-to-diagnose comma errors in twenty pages is grounds for a low, definitely-not-ready-for-editor-eyes score; while another judge may mark off much less because they believe the comma errors to be extremely minor. 

And in the bigger areas? Personal preference can play a huge role. Maybe the judge prefers first person POV over third person and has difficulty connecting to characters in a third person POV. Or something in the story bugs them in a way that clouds their positive-vibes and prompts lower scores. Or maybe the judge is struggling with frustration and bitterness about all the rules and doors slamming in their own face on this publishing journey, so they feel a little harsher toward the world without realizing it. 

If one random judge out of three or five or eight claims the story lacks conflict, emotional depth, deep story-telling techniques, while every other judge praises you in those areas, don't rent head-space to that negative judge! Scan the low-scoring, negative judge's comments, and hide them in the deep dark, forgetful place in your mind. A place where, if other, less-harsh judges point out similar weaknesses, you'll know those judges' suggestions need consideration. But don't waste energy—or delicious Ben & Jerry's ice cream—obsessing over one judge's scores.

2: Lean On Your Critique Partners (Not Ben or Jerry)

This advice goes along with the previous. When you get that super, insanely negative scoresheet, share the comments with someone you trust—a critique partner or an editor you've worked with. Someone who you trust to be honest, yet gentle. Someone who isn't emotionally invested in the manuscript. Someone who knows the craft. This person can talk you off the ledge—or out of the Ben & Jerry's carton. They can weed through those comments that to you sound like, "Your writing sucks! You're a hack! No one will ever want to publish this horrible, sticking, mess!" and see the compliments, the positives, and the valid suggestions. 

More than once, my critique partners have helped me find the positives in what sounded like haters-gonna-hate feedback and provided suggestions on how to implement valid points. I can see now that the negative feedback has made my writing better, but I needed the assistance of people I trusted to point out where and how.

3: Remember to Thank Your Judges!

Most contests will allow you to email your judges, through your category coordinator, a thank you. Please, please, email your thanks. I'm not saying this because it's polite or good form—which it is—but also because judging is anonymous for both the judges AND the entrants. The judges don't get a name attached to an entry. But what happens when the judge reads a good one? An entry they love? An entry that leaves them yelling at their computer screen, "I NEED MORE!"? 

Sending a thank you email allows the judge to attach an author to that jaw-dropping, heart-stopping, eye-popping entry that they want to finish. Now the judge can stalk—er, I mean follow—the author on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and everywhere authors hang out. When that entry gets picked up by a publisher and the publisher changes the title, the judge will finally have an opportunity to finish the story. Closure, it's all about closure.

Even after winning Genesis the rejections and negative feedback crawls inside my brain and puts down roots. I don't think that will ever change. Even after I'm published I'll face negative reviews from readers who hate something about my books. But I've got a plan and a circle of supporters who will help me through the negatives. And with their help and contest feedback, my writing will get better and better.

Any other advice for contest survival?

5 Reasons Critique Partners are a Must

I wasted a lot of years writing without a critique partner. In my college novel-writing class, we spent a couple weeks critiquing everyone’s writing as a group. I saw how amazingly beneficial that kind of feedback is, but there was that one critiquer. That one writer who reminded me of Simon Cowell. See, everyone else pointed out the good and bad, but this lady…she was snobby. She thought she was better than everyone else. And she called my story a “soap opera.” *Cringe* Even though the other fourteen critiquers were awesome and helpful, she’s the one who stuck in my mind and represented critique partners everywhere. 

The game changer? 2014 Pitch Wars. All of the mentors I subbed to gave me the same advice: Get a critique partner. Through one of those mentors, I found my talented, nice, helpful, funny CP, Sarah. Sarah is the bomb. (Check out her website and read her free serial story, The Two Worlds of Sydnee Cameron!) And she’s nothing like Miss Your-Story-is-a-Soap-Opera.

Finding a critique partner you trust and work well with is a must, so if you haven’t found one yet...just do it! 

Here are 5 reasons to get on that. Like, right now.  

1. Your CP will make you a better writer. You don’t know what you don’t know. Every writer has different strengths and weaknesses, and it’s not likely yours will be the same as your CP’s. That means you can help each other learn and grow like the beautiful little butterflies you are. 

2. Cheer Buddies! No one will cheer you on like your CP. Sure, your significant other, parents, and best friends might be amazing and supportive. But your CP gets it. They have the same struggles and dreams. They'll know whether you need a high five or a pint of ice cream.

3. You get to read amazing stories and call it "work." Oh, another chapter to read? Yes, please.

4. A CP keeps you on track. If you slack, they will hound you. If you make a goal, they'll ask if you kept it. They're the person who reminds you that you're a writer when you've been wandering Netflix in your PJs and messy bun for no good reason. I mean, at first they're probably like:

But after a while, they'll set you straight like:

5. More best friends! Sharing your words with someone is a vulnerable thing, so naturally, you'll be close to the people you let in to critique. Your CP will be there for you when you're stuck on a scene, and they'll be there for you when you stub your toe or regretfully win a hot dog eating contest. Yay, friends!

  

Critiquing Pet Peeves: Are You Committing Any of These Faux Pas?

I’ve been blogging about critique partners for the past few months. In January I discussed where to find critique partners, in February I covered what types of critique partners to look for and last month I blogged about how to give good critiques. This month, I’m going to address the opposite and discuss some common critiquing pet peeves; otherwise knows as: how to make sure I’ll never ask you to read for me again.

Let me preface this by saying my critique partners do not do any of these thing, which is why they are wonderful and amazing and will earn acknowledgments in all of my books.

That said, I have had a lot of people read for me and there are definite things that always pushed my buttons, despite the fact that I was grateful for the time and energy they put into reading for me.If you are planning to critique for anyone in the future, you make want to take care to avoid:

Only pointing out the bad.

Yes, I asked for a critical eye on my work and I desperately want to know what isn’t working, so I can fix it. But toss a girl a bone! It’s also incredibly helpful for me to know what is working so I don’t accidentally cut it. Help me make my manuscript better—versus worse—by pointing out the things you like, whether it be a character name that fits the traits of the person well, a line that made you laugh, or a subplot that left you breathless. 

Not giving me any notes.

As much as it thrills me to know that you loved every word of my messy first draft, I’m going to have a hard time believing it. I’m relying on you to be fresh eyes for me on something I’m too involved with to see objectively. I appreciate that you took the time to read, but you’ve somewhat wasted mine in not offering any thoughts for improvement because I now have to track down another reader to point me in the right direction.

And this last one really makes me grind my teeth:

Rewriting my manuscript.

I once had someone read for me who made giant x’s on full pages of my manuscript and took it upon herself to delete a whole chapter in track changes. She also rewrote a ton of paragraphs, including the entire opening. I’m perfectly fine with a suggestion to “think about improving pacing by cutting this chapter” or “Show us this in a scene versus telling us in backstory” but it really grated my nerves that she went in and did it for me. In fact it bothered me so much that I now refuse to delete a single word from a CPs manuscript unless it’s a typo. I mark it in comments instead. Good CPs will say, “Here are my thoughts. Take any that resonate with you and ignore the rest!” and let the author decide for herself whether the suggestion is in line with her vision for the book or not. You might have clear ideas for how you could make this book sooo much better, but in the end you’ll be more valuable as a CP by recognizing that it’s only your opinion to offer and not your story to write.

What about you? Share your horror stories here or tell us what really pushes your buttons on the receiving end of a critique.

How To Be A Good Critique Partner

The last few months I’ve been talking about critique partners, who, to me, are a non-negotiable must-have for anyone serious about writing. In January I talked about where to find critique partners and in February I covered what kinds of critique partners you might want to have in your stable. This month, I’m going to focus on how to give good critique (stay tuned for next month when I discuss what NOT to do in a critique).

Most of us would not invest our time and energy into reading purely for the sport of tearing down a fellow writer. But we could all probably stand a reminder on how to deliver tough news in sensitive ways. Yes, your CP is looking to you to help her identify problem areas in her manuscript. Basically, she is asking you to find fault. Which makes you a bit damned. Most writers describe the first draft as falling in love. We love our words, our concept, our characters. We have fallen asleep plotting their actions and woken up thinking of their worlds. When your critique of that beloved manuscript lands in a writer’s inbox, it’s akin to that writer discovering her dream date lives with his mother. Probably not a deal-breaker, but the bloom is off the rose. And you’re the one who plucked the petals.

There’s no way around that, but there are ways to deliver a thoughtful critique that will likely include some bad with the good. First of all, remember the compliment sandwich. Your CP doesn’t want you blowing smoke up his butt, but he would probably greatly appreciate if your notes started out with some things that are working well in the manuscript. This lets the writer know that the problems you’ll be mentioning next may exist, but overall the work has merit and potential. It’s also always nice to end with a brief note thanking the writer for sharing his words with you and reiterating your confidence in his ability to make the story even better!

Frame your critique constructively. Make comments designed not to tear down, but to build up the work. Phrases like “Have you considered…”, “It might be interesting to see what would happen if…”, and “I think you could solve this by…” are all helpful and kind ways to point out issues.

Admit your own subjectivity. Every reader brings his or her personal tastes and experiences to a story and sometimes it’s as simple as saying, “This could just be me, but…” For instance: if your best friend in high school had an eating disorder, which also happens to be the topic of the manuscript you’re critiquing, that is helpful for the writer to know because you may be both more attuned to the realities of the disorder and whether the author captured them realistically and also more sensitive to some of the content explored.  When CPs prefaces a comment by saying something like, “I’ll admit I’m kind of an overprotective mom, but this scene made me cringe because…” that’s actually helpful. By quantifying, you’re raising a flag that lets the writer know she should get some further feedback on this concern before making any decisions on a change.

Ask questions. “Would she be wearing that tank top if your manuscript is set in January?”, “If one of his hands is in her hair and another at her back, how is he texting his friend right now?” “Would she really do this/say this/think this here?” are all far better ways to point something out that “Uh, hello, it’s WINTER”, “Is he a three-armed freak or something?”, “The voice is wayyyy off here”. Often we’re so ensconced in the story that we dash off a quick note so we can get back to reading, and don’t take the time to think about how that note could be interpreted. If that’s something you do, take a quick scroll through your comments before sending back to the writer.

Remember to point out the good. It is every bit as useful for a writer to know what scenes, sentences, and word choices are working as it is to know the ones that aren’t. My CPs and I have all adopted the method of one, who uses a green highlighter to quickly mark sentences or scenes she loves to death. I get so happy when I encounter green in my manuscript, even if it’s in the middle of lots of comment boxes of issues that need addressing. I’ve found personal or funny notes can have the same effect. A quick “Oh man, that’s so embarrassing for the MC. Reminds me of the time I spilled milk on the Pope” or “Great, now I’m crying!” or “I wanted to go to sleep at the end of this chapter but, curse you, because now I have to know what happens!” is a welcome break from more critical notes and reminds the writer that you do indeed like her story!

How about you? What do you love to see in critiques you’ve gotten back? How do you frame your own comments to others?

What to Look for in a Critique Partner

Last month I blogged about how to search for new critique partners, and today I'd like to expand on that and talk about what kinds of critique partners will take your writing to another level.  

My CP’s are sweet and wonderful people I trust beyond belief. They could never fit into a perfect box, but for the purpose of this post I’m gonna put nice generic labels on them (even though some overlap into several of these camps). I’ve shared my work with a lot of people and I’ve gotten fantastic and craptastic critiques. I learned something from every one of them. But in general, I think my work is pushed the most when I have this I at least one of each of these in my stable:

A CP who is ahead of me in the process

Authors who are well-published have typically been writing longer and critiquing longer, have gone through the revision process more times, and have the advantage of having worked with a professional editor at a publishing house. All of those things will further their critical eye, which means their critiques are often more extensive and nuanced.

A CP who writes just like I do

Authors who share a similar writing style, tone, or voice “get me” and what I’m trying to accomplish like no other. They’ll also more easily pick out spots where things aren’t working or just feel “off”. Lastly, they tend to have spot-on suggestions for how to fix trouble spots because they can envision what they would do if it were their manuscript. 

A CP who writes very differently.

Some of my CPs write with a much more literary style and about much deeper topics than my light and (hopefully) funny “chick lit for chicklets” stories. While it might seem like we wouldn’t be a good fit, they actually challenge me to get outside my comfort zone with my writing and hopefully I’m able to help them achieve a balance of depth and lightness in theirs. Another CP and I have opposite strengths and weaknesses that make us a really good match. My comments to her typically have to do with losing some of the interior monologues to tighten the pacing and hers back to me usually look something like “But how does this make her feel!” or “What is she thinking here?” and “Need more reaction from her!” I find this unbelievably helpful and I love being pushed like this. 

A CP who is behind me in the process

Hopefully this won’t sound condescending, but when I’m critiquing for someone who is newer to writing, it is far easier for me to spot what isn’t working and often also easier to figure out why it isn’t working or what a fix for the issue would be. Lots of times this problem-solving for someone else helps me to see a similar issue in my own writing or at least illustrates a point to me so that I have a deeper understanding of craft. For instance, “telling versus showing” became much more concrete in my mind when I read examples of it in someone else’s work and recognized how I was responding to it as a reader. Armed with that perspective, I was much more able to spot it in my own writing and much more willing to perform the necessary hatchet job!  

A CP who just plain loves your writing
I will confess, I have one beta reader who is really super positive. I love sending her my manuscript because I know I’m going to get it back with all kinds of rainbows and sunshine on the pages. Does it push me in my writing? Nah. I have other CPs for that. But it does lift me up to scroll through her notes on days I’m feeling particularly stuck on revisions. It reminds me that my early draft wasn’t BAD, it just needs to get better.

There are far more things I can (and will) say on the subject of critique partners, but for now, I’d love to know what balance you strike with your CPs. Do they fit into any of the boxes above?