What I've learned in 2009, Part 4

The greatest lessons I learned in 2009 was that good writing comes from the heart. I spent a good part of the last month discussing contradictions that aspiring writers come across. There are plenty of them, but do they really matter? To an extent, yes. But the most important thing about writing fiction is that it has fire. The rules are secondary. In other words, I've learned not to sweat the small stuff, but to embrace the fire within in me and try to transfer that passion onto the page. Now I'm not saying to throw the rules to the curb, but you should learn when to break them--learn when to let your passion overpower them. A couple of months ago, I did a series of posts on The Fire In Fiction by Donald Maass. This book truly changed the way I approach writing, and I have to say that it is the best book on the craft that I've ever read. I highly recommend it for any writer at any stage of the game. The series can be accessed by clicking on The Fire tag in my sidebar. Here is the first of these posts: As I mentioned yesterday, last weekend, I read two books on the craft of writing by literary agent Donald Maass: Writing The Breakout Novel and The Fire In Fiction. Both were excellent reads, but I'm going to focus these discussion on The Fire In Fiction. In this book, Mr. Maass points out that there are no truly original ideas. "Every novel has antecedents. Every author has influences. It is impossible to be wholly original; even so, some novels feel fresh and shake us with their insight." So, if this is true, what makes the difference? Look carefully at that quote. Mr. Maass states that 'Every author has influences.' That, my friends, is where the fire comes from. It doesn't come from the plot, the characters, the setting, or the voice. It comes from the author's passions, which have developed over time because of life experiences. How do we find that passion within ourselves and transfer it to our writing? This is exactly what Mr. Maass answers in The Fire In Fiction. He talks about two types of writers: the status seekers and the storytellers. The status seekers start out with all kinds of passion, the main goal being publication. They settle for good enough. This kind of passion fizzles out over time. The storyteller, on the other hand, has one goal at heart: making his novel the best it can be, and each successive one even better than the last. This passion never goes away. I think, it's possible to be a little of both. Don't most of us writers dream of the day we will be published? Of course we do. But this can't be our only motivation. We have to strive to become better, stronger writers, and we have to be passionate about the art of writing, not just about the dream of publication. I'm guilty of being a status seeker at times, but I want nothing more than to be a storyteller. What about you? What kind of writer do you want to be? This is obviously my last post for 2009. I'll be back next week to talk about what I hope to learn in 2010. For now, my good blogging friends, Happy New Year!

What I've learned in 2009, Part 3

These boots have thick skins. When we put our work out there to be critiqued, our skin needs to be just as thick. One of the greatest lessons I learned over the past year is that my mom and my daughter telling me my writing is fabulous means nothing. An objective eye is key. Having fellow writers read my work was the best thing I ever did. Here is a post I did after putting my writing out there for scrutiny: Do you remember the episode of Seinfeld when they go visit a couple who has just had a new baby? The parents gush over how beautiful the baby is, and Jerry, Elaine, and George are polite and agree, even though the baby is the ugliest baby they've ever seen. Finally, Kramer says the truth. Now, I'm not saying our writing is the ugliest thing ever, but it is flawed, and we all need a Kramer to read it--someone honest enough to tell us the truth (perhaps in a kinder, gentler way than Kramer), even if it isn't what we want to hear. This is what our critique partners are for. That being said, we need to be prepared for the negative. We need to thicken up our skin and be willing to take the bad comments right along with the good. I'm not going to lie here; the first negative comment stings like the devil, but after you step back for a little bit, you can look more objectively at it. Without the negative comments, we can't improve. Those are what drive us to do better, to try harder, to pay more attention to our weaknesses. The negative comments are what make us better writers. For those of you who have been involved in a critique group, do you embrace the bad comments? For those who haven't hit the critiquing stage, how do you envision yourself reacting to the negative?

What I've learned in 2009, Part 2

If you are wondering why I chose clogs for today's picture, I really don't have a reason, other than the fact that "clogs" rhymes with "blogs", which is what I'm posting about. Another thing I learned during 2009 is how much I love blogging. It started out as one thing, but has turned into something entirely different. I've also learned the benefits of blogging for aspiring authors and, therefore, the importance of being professional. An agent actually visited and commented on my blog, so please put thought into your blogging. You never know who might be reading. That being said, I thought I'd share with you something I posted way back when I first started blogging. Back then, I had no idea that blogging meant anything more than making new friends, which I still think is the best thing about blogging by the way. Anyway, here was my take on blogging a few months ago: So, why am I doing this? Because I like to hear myself talk. No, seriously, there are two reasons why I'm doing it. #1: It's a diary of sorts. It is a tale of my journey through the publishing jungle. In other words, it's a place where I can vent my frustrations, and hopefully, some day, celebrate my successes. #2: It's a chance to share with other writers (if they should visit my blog) my experiences on the road to publication. If I ever reach my final destination, it's a testimonial of what I did right. If I never make it there, it's an example of what not to do. Either way, it could be useful to someone. Today, I have to add a couple more reasons. #3: I love connecting with people who have similar interests. I learn so much from my fellow bloggers, and this on-line community has become a support system for me. #4: It's free entertainment. I laugh at your blogs. I cry at your blogs. I am inspired by your blogs. Your blogs make me think. Bottom line is: I LOVE YOUR BLOGS! So why do you blog?

What I've learned in 2009, Part 1

I've never made the mistake of wearing two different shoes, but I've made plenty of others. I'm posting a little late today because my internet has been down. Go figure. It's my first day back to blogging, and my internet doesn't work. Anyway, I'm glad to be back. I missed all my blog friends, and I look forward to catching up with you today. Before my break, I was posting about contradictions aspiring authors come across. I was going to pick up where I left off, but I've decided to spend this week recapping what I've learned in 2009 by re-posting some of my older material. The first lesson I learned this year was not to query too soon. Back in January, I sent out my first round of queries. Big mistake. I wasn't ready. My work wasn't ready. And, obviously, my query letter wasn't ready. Here's a post I did a while back about some of my query mistakes: I'm a night person and always have been. I hate mornings, and it usually takes at least three cups of coffee before I can function. My wake-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn husband just doesn't quite understand this, but we manage to get along anyway. At any rate, I often find myself querying after midnight. Apparently, my head isn't as clear as I think it is at night. Here are some of my late-night query mistakes: I sent three chapters in the body of an e-query to an agent whose guidelines specifically state: QUERY ONLY. I knew this, but I meant to send the query to a different agent. I indicated that I was enclosing a SASE for the agents response in an e-query. It's kind of hard to send an envelope with an email, wouldn't you say? In my defense, when I checked the agency guidelines, they specifically asked for snail mail queries, but upon further investigation, I learned that this particular agent preferred queries by email. So I copied and pasted my original letter from Word into an email. Unfortunately, I forgot to take the part about the SASE out. I sent five e-queries with the same typo. Keep in mind that I read, re-read, and re-read again without catching the mistake. That is, until I hit send on the last one. I addressed and e-query to someone named Mitchelle. Yeah, it was supposed to be "Michelle". Again, my midnight mind didn't catch it until the next morning. By the way, did I mention this query also contained the same typo discussed in the previous example? Now, here's one about a snail mail query. I enclosed an SASE or, actually, an SAE. Yes, I forgot to put a stamp on it. How do I know? Well, because I was out of stamps before I even wrote the query. Now, why I didn't realize it until after I went to the post office, bought stamps, put them on the query to mail, and stuck it in the drop box is anyone's guess. Apparently, my head isn't so clear in the morning either. So, what about you? Care to share any of your mistakes?

Merry Christmas!

Hope you all have a wonderful Christmas!