So far so good

I’ve just finished the second draft of a new short story – my first for 2015. I got it done in time for the February session of my writing group’s short story critiquing circle, and they gave me some excellent and very positive feedback. Now I need to let it sit for a bit, and maybe get one more set of eyes to run over it before I start sending it out into the world to find its way.

It feels good to have a new short just about ready to go, because I’ve been focussing a lot on novel projects recently. These offer a whole other kind of gratification, but they really are the long game. It’s very easy to feel like your writing career is going nowhere while you chip away at your novel-sized wordcount, or navigate your way through the slog of trying to find an agent or a publisher. Also, just from the perspective of writing satisfaction, the great ideas you want to get down take a lot longer to realise in novel form than in short form. This one only took a few days to knock out the first draft.

Plus, even though my trunk is largely empty right now for all the right reasons, it’s not good for it to stay that way for long. It feels good to start filling it up again.

Now, usually I have a really clear recollection of where the inspiration came from for a story. Usually it’s an image. But for some reason, even though I only started writing it two weeks ago, my recollection of where this one sprang from has all got a bit muddy. I think it might have changed direction somewhere along the way, and now I can’t remember what kicked it off.

So, in lieu of my source inspiration, have a picture of some beautiful art from Jack Pine Studios. It may be relevant!

Iris blue hand blown glass egg, Jack Pine Studio
Iris blue hand blown glass egg, Jack Pine Studio on Etsy

Some shiny needles I found in the haystack of internet research

I’ve spent quite a lot of time doing research, lately. I’ve been working on one of my novel projects, still in its very early stages, which is based in 18th century London. This is an era I’m reasonably comfortable with, but – damn – there is still a whole lot of research to be done. I’ve spent the last couple of days in 2nd hand bookshops, and now I’ve got an interesting haul, including one book on the Bedlam Asylum, which I’m dying to get into. But – of course – I kicked off my search for information to build my world on the good ol’ internet.

There’s nothing wrong with starting with Google or Wikipedia. They are great for finding useful threads of info to follow along. (And rabbit holes to disappear down for hours…) They rarely tell you the whole story, though, and you need to be wary about taking what they say for granted. But still, they’re a great place to start for pointing you in the right direction so you can work out what you need to find out more about.

In my travels through the internet, I’ve found a couple of sites that I thought were worthy of a mention here, in case anyone else is looking for similar information.

Firstly, this one: mapco.net

London1868
London 1868

This is a fantastic FREE site that provides access to “high quality scans of rare and beautiful antique maps and views”. The site focuses on 18th and 19th century maps of London and the British Isles, and 19th century Australia, but there are maps from the 16th and 17th centuries available as well. When I say fantastic, it is really, really fantastic. The resolution on the scans is incredible. I can’t tell you how useful I’ve found it. The website is run on a not-for-profit basis and is really worth a visit.

Secondly, if you’re investigating London in any period, it is worth paying a visit to the conservation areas page of www.cityoflondon.gov.uk.

Each of the conservation areas in London (there’s 26) has its own character summary, which gives you a pocket history of the area going right back to Roman times. It describes how the use and character of each of these little patches of London has changed over time and identifies key significant features. These documents are fairly recent (I’m writing this in December 2014) and make for fascinating reading.

Finally, here’s a really useful post from over at Jane Austen in Vermont, on travel in Regency England. I say travel, because that’s what the title of the post says it’s about, but it’s full of useful stuff, like a county map of England (where exactly is Derbyshire in relation to Hertfordshire), how fast different modes of travel were (Mr Darcy vs the stagecoach) and a really good economic overview of Regency England.

The next leg of the journey

I know it’s a cliche to compare producing a novel to having a baby, but bear with me for a moment.

I am gearing up to start sending query letters out into the world for Novel Project #1. I’ve spent a lot of time researching how you’re supposed to go about this, finding likely agents and preparing my stuff.

Night CircusAs I was doing my last minute ‘am-I-really-ready-for-this’ checks this morning, I found this blog post from Erin Morgenstern  (The Night Circus) and a whole  new aspect of the novel-as-baby comparison occurred to me.

I’ve got two kids (they’re gorgeous, don’t get me started, we’ll be here forever.) I worked as a nanny for a couple of years in my 20s, for a number of different families with children aged from 3 months to 9 years old. So, even before I had my own, I was better prepared than most. I thought had a fair idea of what having my own kids would be like.

I had no idea. There’s no way you can. Every now and then you will find something that gives you a little window into what parenthood will actually be like. But nothing can really prepare you for the amount of work it takes, the impact on how you live your life, the sudden lack of control and complete inability to set your own timetable for anything. (There are, I should add, many indescribably wonderful things about parenthood, too.)

Reading Erin Morgenstern’s post about her novel’s journey from when she started sending out query letters to when she accepted her agent’s offer of representation gave me one of those worrying little windows on the journey to novel publication. (And, I note, Erin kinda had a dream run.) I’m not completely new to this writing gig. I’ve got a few short story sales under my belt now and I’ve spent the last few years learning as much as I can about the publishing industry. I feel like I’ve done what I can to understand what the next stage of the journey will be like.

Even so, when I read Erin’s blog post I thought “Oh God, am I really ready for this?”

Probably not. But, like parenthood, I don’t know if you can be, so maybe that’s not the question to ask.

Maybe the question is: how much do I want this?

A lot. Really, really a lot.

Using POV to untangle plot

Tangled threads 2

 

A little while ago I decided I needed a clearer perspective on the villain’s story in Novel Project #3. So I sat down and plotted the story-so-far from his perspective. This proved to be an interesting exercise.

Humiliatingly, I discovered the plot actually didn’t work from his perspective. I had him on one side of the country on one day, then popping up on the other side of the country a few days later with no plausible reason for how he got there, or, worse, why he might have wanted to travel in the first place.

Learning No. 1: plotting your story from alternative viewpoints (even if the story is never told from these viewpoints), is a valuable tool for uncovering plot holes.

Then, I got stuck. I got to a point in the story where I couldn’t work out what should happen next. I knew where I wanted my heroine to end up, but there was a hefty gap between where she was and where she needed to be, and I couldn’t think of anything interesting to fill it. I had that sense of having to write some stuff to fill time before the next chunk of story started, and we all know what a mortal blow that is to plot.

I’d had a sense for a little while that my backstory needed more work, and that some of the plot points so far weren’t quite as convincing as they should be. And what do you know. When I went back and did the work on the backstory that it needed, my story came to life again. By understanding more about what was going on with my villain and a couple of the supporting characters, I understood what else was going on in my story that would galvanise the next chapter of action and excitement. I couldn’t see it before, because I was only looking at it from my heroine’s perspective, and she has no idea about this other stuff that’s going on.

Learning No. 2: Not everything important that is happening in your story is going to directly involve your protagonist, even if it does end up affecting her. Plotting your story from alternative viewpoints will enable you to understand the other currents flowing through your plot, and to know when and how their effects will manifest for your protagonist.

Conflux 10

Spectacular artwork for Conflux 10 by Shauna O'Meara
Spectacular artwork for Conflux 10 by Shauna O’Meara

As usual, Conflux was a whirlwind of delights. I caught up with writer friends from all over the country, and even other bits of the world. I attended a bunch of book launches, bought a bunch of books, went to some fascinating panels, and sat around eating pizza & drinking cider & chewing the fat with some fantastically interesting people. Highlights?

The guests of honour were great. Hearing Margo Lanagan talk about her early career, and how she wrote Tender Morsels was a definite highlight and I came away from that one with inspiration tickling away in the back of my brain. Alisa Krasnostein also gave an interview on some of the remarkable things her small press has done, particularly in promoting spec fiction written by women. I found her deeply inspirational as well.

I can’t think of a panel I didn’t enjoy, but the standouts for me were:

  • editing anthologies (one day, maybe!)
  • grief, loss and trauma with Margo Lanagan, Richard Harland, Kaaron Warren and Isobel Carmody (who wasn’t on the panel, but was in the audience and commented on a piece of her work that was read out)
  • describing the journey (a panel on how you describe the world of your story through your character’s eyes), with Kaaron Warren, Russell Kirkpatrick, Simon Petrie and Isobel Carmody.

Even spending time staffing the CSFG dealer’s table was extremely pleasant, as it meant I got to sit and chat with the likes of Kaaron Warren and Rob Porteous.

The convention was a little smaller this year than it has been in previous years, I understand. But everyone seemed to think this was not such a bad thing, as it meant more opportunity to actually connect with the other attendees. Kudos must go to the hero of this year’s Conflux, Karen Herkes Ott, and her small but mighty Conflux 10 team.

I was so inspired by their incredible efforts that I  have ended up as the Vice-President of the Conflux Committee, and will be involved in organising next year’s convention! I have a feeling that’s going to be a heap of work, but I’m kinda excited, because based on the brainstorming the new committee has done already, it’s going to be awesome.

Coming up: reading & panel discussion at Conflux 10

Spectacular artwork for Conflux 10 by Shauna O'Meara
Spectacular artwork for Conflux 10 by Shauna O’Meara

Conflux is on this weekend!! This is the annual Canberra spec fic convention, and lucky for me it has a very strong focus on writing.

I’m participating in a couple of events:

  • On Saturday, 4 October at 12.0o, Simon Petrie will be launching his new collection of short fiction, Difficult Second Album, by Peggy Bright Books. At the launch, some of the other recent titles from PBB will be showcased, including Use Only As Directed. So I shall be doing a reading from “The Blue Djinn’s Wish”!
  • On Monday, 6 October at 4pm, I will be part of the Denouement – the Journey’s End panel with Richard Harland and Daniel O’Malley!

I’ll also be doing my bit to staff the CSFG table in the dealer’s room around lunchtime on Saturday & Sunday, so please come along & say hi!

Perspective from the tip of the iceberg

I’m convening the CSFG novel writing group this year, and last month we did a session on connecting the reader to your story through point of view. We did an exercise where I got everyone to write a short, descriptive scene from a character’s point of view. I got each person to read out their scene, then the rest of us shared what information we had gleaned from the scene about that character. I only gave the group 10 minutes or so to write the scene, so they were very short. But, what was remarkable was just how much we all got out of a few well-placed details.

You’ve probably heard about the iceberg writing model. You know the one: only 10 per cent of what you know about your story, your characters and your world, makes it onto the page. The rest stays ‘under the water’, as it were, in the murky depths of your writerly brain. You need to know about it; it’s an important foundation for that tiny 10 per cent of your story that is the only part to ever see the sun.

Image courtesy of Liz Noffsinger at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Well, after hearing what we all got out of these tiny snippets of writing, it struck me that if you include the right details, your readers are going to be able to take that measly 10 per cent and use their imaginations to construct something far larger and more complex than that iceberg tip you gave them. They’ll be able to stand on it and look down through the ice into those depths you left lurking there. They might not see quite the same things that you do, or their vision might be clearer, and they might see stuff you never even knew existed.

But, for me, anyway, that’s part of the whole pleasure of reading: exercising your imagination and using the writer’s words like Lego bricks – to construct something wonderful that only you can really see.

 

 

Getting edits

I love getting edits. It’s like having someone else brush my hair.

I love having to focus on a word or a sentence or a paragraph and really think about what I wanted it to do. What is the meaning I want it to convey? What is the feeling I want it to build? Which other bit of the story do I want it to point to? Which pieces of information do I want it to connect?

Of course I try and do that anyway, when I edit my own work. But there’s something about having someone sift through your writing and point out a fumble or a piece of fuzziness that is like having a skilled masseuse find out a bothersome knot in your shoulder and work it away.

Torn

I sent my most recent story out a couple of weeks ago. I’m really happy with it, and I wrote it for an anthology being put together by a publisher whose work I admire. It’s a great concept for an antho, and I’d love to be involved. However, I have found myself a little torn.

A nice, cryptic reference to my latest story.  Image courtesy of Black-HardArtstudio from FreeDigitalPhotos.net
A nice, cryptic reference to my latest story.
Image courtesy of Black-HardArtstudio from FreeDigitalPhotos.net

You see, being a realist, I have to acknowledge that, despite the clear genius of this particular story, and my brilliant interpretation of the anthology theme, this publisher may reject it. There’s a smorgasbord of reasons why this might happen (including that my estimation of this story’s awesomeness may be wildly subjective). So, being an optimist, I have had a bit of a think about where else I might send it, if it bounces, and now I’ve come up with some ideas that I’m really quite excited about.

So, now I’m feeling torn!

It would be just as awesome to be picked up by Publisher B as it would be by Publisher A. C, D, E & F aren’t bad either.

I have to say, this is a preferable situation to be in, than having to face the inevitable despondency that comes with rejection cold. At least now I’ve got a backup plan.

One of the most useful things my writing group, the CSFG, has kicked off in recent times (probably about a year and a half ago), is a thing we affectionately call ‘Rejectomancy’. I think Ian McHugh coined that title. The idea that is that those of us participating set ourselves a submission goal for the year, acknowledging that rejection is the norm, and we’ll probably rack up a fair few. You might go with a formula something like: 5 submissions per story before it gets picked up. If you have 3 stories in your trunk, and you reckon you might write another 4 that year, that would give you a goal of 35 submissions. Of course, if that seems overwhelming, you can adjust it up or down.

We then report back to the group on the number of rejections we’ve had to date. It’s actually kinda fun & takes the sting out of every ‘thanks but no thanks’ email.

(I set myself a goal of 25, and I’m failing miserably, having made only 10 subs and it’s August already. However, I’ve got the best excuse ever, being that I sold 3 stories early on and much, much quicker than I’d anticipated.)

Rejectomancy has given me several things.

  1. I feel much more OK about rejections now. It’s no longer soul-destroying (well, not always, shall we say) and I’m much better able to just see it as part of the professional process.
  2. It makes me put together a bit of a submission plan for each story. If I’m going to do 5 subs on Story X, where are those subs going to be? I make a list of the markets I think will suit it best, and go from the top down. (That’s another bit of advice from Ian McHugh. Start at the top. Always.)
  3. It means I almost always have a few out there, doing the rounds. It’s like buying a lottery ticket. Your chances of winning are small, but they’re non-existent if you don’t buy a ticket. As long as I’ve got the story out there, in some editor/slush-wrangler’s in-box, my dream of it being published is still alive.