The people in my online Fiction Writers’ Group recently were asked the interesting and very common question above, and I thought I’d post it and let you know what my answer was. I wish someone had told me ths answer when I was a new young writer. It would have saved me about eight years and some tens of thousands of dollars had I known what I have written below.
Maybe it will help you, too. I hope so.
My friend, you're making the same mistake I made when my first novel was published, those many years ago. You are expecting the publisher to be your marketing specialist. Unfortunately for writers (who really just want to write), publishers are not marketing specialists at all; they are publishers.
These days, writers must market their own stuff, and that means having an impressive platform. I know personally of some agents who won't even handle writers who don't have a significant platform.
A platform, as I'm sure you're aware, is your sphere of influence--your mailing list, your contacts, socially, in business, and in normal everyday living, who can and probably will buy your book and/or talk about it on their show, invite you to speak at their university/college/highschool/group, and to people who also have a copious sphere of influence.
This may sound daunting, but anyone who has written a book and gotten it published can do just about anything! You're one of a very small percentage of the population of the world.
The first thing you need to do is to start a media blitz. Google "media kits" and see what kind of suggestions the different sites make. Make a list of the items that are common to all of them, get those together in a brief, neat format, and send them to your local radio and TV stations, as well as to your local newspapers.
Tweet about your book--and yourself. Talk about it on Facebook. Hopefully you will be able even to do a video message. Tell people in line at the grocery about it, using your "elevator speech." (An elevator speech is a 10—30--second synopsis of what your novel/film/story is about.)
Don't ever tell the ending. If they know that, they don’t have to buy your book. You just told it to them, chapter and verse.
Lots of writers make video trailers for their books. You might try contacting the producers on this list to determine prices and details.
http://www.la411.com/Ad_Agencies_Production_Companies/category-cid-50524.htm
Its a very effective way to promote your book, and expense varies, depending on your needs.
You might even want to try doing one yourself with your video camera.
Make up bookmarks and business cards for your book, and ask local libraries if you might leave some of the bookmarks on their countertop, where people check out and return books. Pass out the cards to everyone you encounter, whether or not you know them.
You can get really nice business cards from VistaPrint.com, at a reasonable rate. Sometimes they have 'giveaways' of postcards, magnets and the like as well. It's well worth checking them out.
Use every way you can to promote that book. Never give up.
The famous author of “Chicken Soup for the Soul,” Mark Victor Hansen, had his first book signing and no one came. The venue was inside a mall, so instead of getting depressed, he ran out into the mall, bought a whole bunch of helium balloons, and ran around giving them away to children, telling the parents, “Have you heard? Mark Victor Hansen is having a book signing today! Can you imagine? Mark Victor Hansen! Better get over there before he leaves!” People flocked to the bookstore (possibly feeling obliged because they had just gotten a ‘freebie’ from him) and the rest is history.
Do anything legal, moral and non-fattening that will get your book marketed, no matter how foolish it seems. If it makes them buy, it’s okay. Sometimes it's good only if it’s legal and moral. I just threw the "non-fattening" thing in because I saw myself sideways in a mirror last night.
Set up a book signing at your local bookstore, introduce yourself to the manager, and autograph all the books they have in stock--in fact, if you're smart, you'll talk to the manager ahead of time and ask if he will order a few extra for your signing. I've always found that bookstore managers are delighted when I autograph my books. They put a special "Signed by Author" sticker on the front, and people seem to buy them faster.
Research "Marketing your books," and go to http://www.wheatmark.com/ and sign up for their newsletter, and also sign up for free publicity for your non-fiction book. News releases are sent up to three times a day to keep you up-to-date. It's at: http://www.reporterconnection.com/JoinNow/?11528.
Both are very informative. I wish they'd been around when I was first publishing.
Sorry you have to do this yourself, but we're all in the same boat, I’m afraid. The best thing to do, now that your book is published, is roll up your sleeves with a big smile and get out there and tell the world—shouting it from the virtual rooftops—how great your book is!
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Monday, October 4, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Story
Comic Novels of Charles Sorel: A Study of Structure, Characterization and Disguise (French Forum Monographs, 32.)Comic Novels of Charles Sorel: A Study of Structure, Characterization and Disguise (French Forum Monographs, 32.)
Tonight I want to talk to you about a trend I’ve been noticing in my own Fiction Writers’ Group on LinkedIn. So many young writers worry about a good deal about competition, about whether and when they will get an agent, be published by one of the big Houses, or even be published at all.
These are important things to think about, but not yet.
Not yet.
What’s important now, and this applies to all writers, is the story. Always and everlasting, the story. That is and must be your total focus.
Since the beginning of time, as long as Man has occupied our beautiful little planet, there have been storytellers. Whether it was a hominid (yes, I know he wasn’t quite Man, but close enough, just now) telling his group in primitive signs that he had seen something with too many teeth to argue with; or a male Australopithecus pointing for his clan the way north out of Africa; or a Cro-Magnon man—or woman—drawing tales the hunt, of anticipation and terror and delight, on the walls of a French cave, Man has been a storyteller.
We have found many ways to tell our stories, in television, movies, audio cassettes, in person in schools and churches and around campfires, and by parents and grandparents telling the tales to children. Oral histories; old legends with the fire of truth in their hearts; fairy tales; ancient stories told a thousand times and still new, still funny and horrible and tender and memorable, stories are like a fire that can destroy and consume, or warm and comfort.
We are the keepers of that ancient flame, and we must see to it that it never dims, never falters, never fails.
The story, to paraphrase Shakespeare, is the thing. Stories must start as close to the rising action as possible. I don’t give a tinker’s dam whether Millie-May Jumbles sleeps on her left side, wears a flannel nightgown, and puts in her teeth before she waddles into the loo to wash up and comb her hair and floss her teeth, unless that’s vital to the essence, the core of the story.
But if the story begins when she steps into the barn and hears the click of a gun’s hammer snapping back, Im suddenly alert, and I'll be all ears from then on.
The description is fine, and often necessary. but don’t turn off your reader with incidentals before you hook him. Once the reader has committed to reading your piece, then fine, drop in the description bit by bit, hopefully by showing us, rather than telling us. And only tell us what we need to hear.
Don’t give poor old Milly-May her false teeth unless they’re going to play a role in the story. That is to say, for instance, that she can keep complaining about her false teeth, how they make her mouth sore, and keep trying to fall out, and are a total bother; and perhaps the nervous intruder keeps telling her to shut up.
Then, if he carries her off, maybe her dropping those teeth somewhere they’ll be found or snagging them on a cactus (or whatever) as she passes, will spin the story around into a completely new direction. That would follow. But if you’re going to simply tell us she has false teeth (just to be cute) and then never mention them again, or mention them to no avail, forget it. You’re wasting your time and the reader’s time, too.
Here’s a non-rule that works like a Rule: Don’t show your reader anything—especially by mentioning it two or more times—unless you’re going to use it in the story.
Everything is important; you just have to decide what’s the most important in your story.
More next time.
Lang out.
Tonight I want to talk to you about a trend I’ve been noticing in my own Fiction Writers’ Group on LinkedIn. So many young writers worry about a good deal about competition, about whether and when they will get an agent, be published by one of the big Houses, or even be published at all.
These are important things to think about, but not yet.
Not yet.
What’s important now, and this applies to all writers, is the story. Always and everlasting, the story. That is and must be your total focus.
Since the beginning of time, as long as Man has occupied our beautiful little planet, there have been storytellers. Whether it was a hominid (yes, I know he wasn’t quite Man, but close enough, just now) telling his group in primitive signs that he had seen something with too many teeth to argue with; or a male Australopithecus pointing for his clan the way north out of Africa; or a Cro-Magnon man—or woman—drawing tales the hunt, of anticipation and terror and delight, on the walls of a French cave, Man has been a storyteller.
We have found many ways to tell our stories, in television, movies, audio cassettes, in person in schools and churches and around campfires, and by parents and grandparents telling the tales to children. Oral histories; old legends with the fire of truth in their hearts; fairy tales; ancient stories told a thousand times and still new, still funny and horrible and tender and memorable, stories are like a fire that can destroy and consume, or warm and comfort.
We are the keepers of that ancient flame, and we must see to it that it never dims, never falters, never fails.
The story, to paraphrase Shakespeare, is the thing. Stories must start as close to the rising action as possible. I don’t give a tinker’s dam whether Millie-May Jumbles sleeps on her left side, wears a flannel nightgown, and puts in her teeth before she waddles into the loo to wash up and comb her hair and floss her teeth, unless that’s vital to the essence, the core of the story.
But if the story begins when she steps into the barn and hears the click of a gun’s hammer snapping back, Im suddenly alert, and I'll be all ears from then on.
The description is fine, and often necessary. but don’t turn off your reader with incidentals before you hook him. Once the reader has committed to reading your piece, then fine, drop in the description bit by bit, hopefully by showing us, rather than telling us. And only tell us what we need to hear.
Don’t give poor old Milly-May her false teeth unless they’re going to play a role in the story. That is to say, for instance, that she can keep complaining about her false teeth, how they make her mouth sore, and keep trying to fall out, and are a total bother; and perhaps the nervous intruder keeps telling her to shut up.
Then, if he carries her off, maybe her dropping those teeth somewhere they’ll be found or snagging them on a cactus (or whatever) as she passes, will spin the story around into a completely new direction. That would follow. But if you’re going to simply tell us she has false teeth (just to be cute) and then never mention them again, or mention them to no avail, forget it. You’re wasting your time and the reader’s time, too.
Here’s a non-rule that works like a Rule: Don’t show your reader anything—especially by mentioning it two or more times—unless you’re going to use it in the story.
Everything is important; you just have to decide what’s the most important in your story.
More next time.
Lang out.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Give Your Protagonist Some Distinctive Quirks or Habits
I had a professor in college—an ex-merchant-marine captain-turned-Jesuit—who was almost a stereotype: he was short, well-muscled, balding with a thick "St. Anthony fringe" around the edges and a tuft of fiery red hair sticking straight up from the middle of his shiny pate. I was always reminded of the paintings of “The Descent of the Holy Spirit Upon Mary and the Disciples,” when everyone had flames standing over their heads.
His name was Father Thomas J. Walshe, and he was a bundle of energy, striding up and down before the class. His voice was constantly rising and falling, harsh one moment and silky-soft the next, expounding with laughter and Irish brogue and sober statements the great philosophical tenets of the Greek Philosophers.
I loved him like a dear uncle.
He had a habit—undoubtedly developed aboardship—of scrubbing rapidly at his dry, red, potato of a nose with the back of a fist when he got excited, which was often. And he was right, there was so much in his teachings to get excited about. I’ve never forgotten him, nor the lessons he taught, knowingly or unknowingly.
Let’s consider another example:
In Charles Dickens’ “David Copperfield,” the character named Uriah Heep keeps proclaiming his unworthiness, his humility, his complete and utter lowliness—to underscore which he keeps bowing, hunching and looking up at the world from under his brows. He’s a despicable character, full of false pride and nastiness, but the idea of his hunching and glowering from beneath his brows sticks with me, even today. It’s memorable, and is another proof of Dickens’ genius.
There. That’s it. Your lesson for today. The bringing-to-life of a person or persons you have never known, giving them distinctive quirks and/or habits, “seeing” and “hearing” them clearly. You did “see” and “hear” them—didn’t you? If not, please let me know. No one is above learning from his colleagues.
That’s all for now. We’re under a tornado warning, and I’m watching the weather news.
More next week.
Lang out.
PS Oh, I almost forgot to mention my “Simon Lang’s Basic Writers’ Course” which will be available shortly at http://www.youpublish.com/simonlangbooks/ I’ll also be putting up a workbook for Catholic High School Students as well, for homeschoolers and others who are interested, as well as my unique story-plotting aid, HANDS-ON STORIES®. Check it out!
His name was Father Thomas J. Walshe, and he was a bundle of energy, striding up and down before the class. His voice was constantly rising and falling, harsh one moment and silky-soft the next, expounding with laughter and Irish brogue and sober statements the great philosophical tenets of the Greek Philosophers.
I loved him like a dear uncle.
He had a habit—undoubtedly developed aboardship—of scrubbing rapidly at his dry, red, potato of a nose with the back of a fist when he got excited, which was often. And he was right, there was so much in his teachings to get excited about. I’ve never forgotten him, nor the lessons he taught, knowingly or unknowingly.
Let’s consider another example:
In Charles Dickens’ “David Copperfield,” the character named Uriah Heep keeps proclaiming his unworthiness, his humility, his complete and utter lowliness—to underscore which he keeps bowing, hunching and looking up at the world from under his brows. He’s a despicable character, full of false pride and nastiness, but the idea of his hunching and glowering from beneath his brows sticks with me, even today. It’s memorable, and is another proof of Dickens’ genius.
There. That’s it. Your lesson for today. The bringing-to-life of a person or persons you have never known, giving them distinctive quirks and/or habits, “seeing” and “hearing” them clearly. You did “see” and “hear” them—didn’t you? If not, please let me know. No one is above learning from his colleagues.
That’s all for now. We’re under a tornado warning, and I’m watching the weather news.
More next week.
Lang out.
PS Oh, I almost forgot to mention my “Simon Lang’s Basic Writers’ Course” which will be available shortly at http://www.youpublish.com/simonlangbooks/ I’ll also be putting up a workbook for Catholic High School Students as well, for homeschoolers and others who are interested, as well as my unique story-plotting aid, HANDS-ON STORIES®. Check it out!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Naming Your Protagonist
Hello, again.
Last week I promised I would tell you how to write, and while I can’t (obviously!) give you my whole writers’ course in a blog, I can give you a few good pointers about writing your story.
Above all, you must remember that no matter how exciting, suspenseful, romantic, or shocking a story may be, it is always a story about someone! Not about a treasure, a kingdom, a car chase, an explosion, or a box of chocolates. A story is always and forever about a character. And so it follows that most importantly for the sake of the story, you, the writer, must know your character.
So many times, young writers come to me with this sort of a pitch, “I got this guy, see, and this is a great story, you're gonna love it, lots of car chases and this big explosion, and crashes and stuff, and—“
I already don’t love it. I don’t even like it.
It’s like listening to—or reading—a really bad weather report.
Who is the character all this is written about? Someone called “this guy.” Not even a name. I get the creepy feeling that this writer may not even know it.
Who is “this guy?” Why am I supposed to be interested in what he’s doing or what happens to him? Why do I care? For pity’s sake, writer, give me his name!
Is he Uriah Heep? Then I won’t expect him to be a hero. In fact, his very name turns me off of the character, though not off of the story. What kind of a story needs someone named “Uriah Heep”? I am intrigued, and I read on.
Well, what if his name is Charles Pennington Brentwood? Okay, I already know he’s not an oil rig worker. Not a ditch-digger. Not a ranch hand. “L’il Smokey” Johnson? Sounds like he’s a cool dude who blows a hot horn. Pete Cooper? Another All-American boy. Nandi K. Pakranishan? Could be a doctor, an IT specialist, a scientist. Again, I am willing to read on.
But you see wehre I’m going with this, I think. When you give your Reader a Protagonist’s (hero’s) name, you are already setting up an expectation in the Reader’s mind.
Be careful how you name your characters; a fellow named John Beverly Rawlings-Smythe is not necessarily going to be my first choice for an infantry sergeant. Joe Garrett will be selected instead to lead a tough squad of seasoned soldiers. (A caveat, here: there are hundreds or thousands of fine British soldiers with elegant names who are easily as tough as any Americans or Aussies, and I am certainly not denigrating anyone.)
The trouble is, Readers are attuned to certain names being associated with certain endeavors, and while sometimes the most vicious serial killer might be named “Percy Goodyshoes.” I guess. I just have a really hard time believing it—or in the story that talks about him. It just doesn’t follow in the general scheme of things; not for most writers, at any rate.
Think as hard about naming your characters, young writer, as you would about naming your child. After all, in a very real sense, Charles Dickens is the “father” of Ebenezer Scrooge.” Agatha Christie gave birth both to “Miss Marple” and to “Hercule Poirot.” Dr. Seuss engendered “The Cat in the Hat” and “Sam-I-Am” and “Horton”, too.
What will you name your literary “child”?
Last week, I suggested that you write down everything you could think up about your Protagonist. This week, I’m going to ask you to name him.
Study lists of name, titles of books; scan magazines and newspapers (but don’t lift any real person’s names, because using them can get you into court, facing a libel suit that any lawyer would salivate over.)
Use only one name, either a given name or a family name (again, nothing like “Trump”, “Rockefeller”, or anything—anything!—familiar or recognizable. And please, no lady singers named “Lena Lerner,” or "Bina Burner" or Nina Nerner." Your Reader's not stupid. Don't use “Milady,” either (that’s what Madonna means in Italian.) Make up your own names.
Use some discretion and all that great talent you have got. And you have, or you wouldn’t be trying to find out how best to demonstrate it!
By the way, just a side note: since “he” and “him” are the default proper-English adverbs indicating any member of the race called “Man,” I always use the “male default.” I hope I don’t offend anyone, but if I do, I’m terribly sorry; and I hope you get over it without any ill effects. I suspect you will.
A good writer always obeys the basic rules of grammar, whether he likes them or not, until he is competent enough to try to change them; and so shall we.
See you next week, when we’ll talk about relating with your Protagonist.
Until then.
Lang out.
Last week I promised I would tell you how to write, and while I can’t (obviously!) give you my whole writers’ course in a blog, I can give you a few good pointers about writing your story.
Above all, you must remember that no matter how exciting, suspenseful, romantic, or shocking a story may be, it is always a story about someone! Not about a treasure, a kingdom, a car chase, an explosion, or a box of chocolates. A story is always and forever about a character. And so it follows that most importantly for the sake of the story, you, the writer, must know your character.
So many times, young writers come to me with this sort of a pitch, “I got this guy, see, and this is a great story, you're gonna love it, lots of car chases and this big explosion, and crashes and stuff, and—“
I already don’t love it. I don’t even like it.
It’s like listening to—or reading—a really bad weather report.
Who is the character all this is written about? Someone called “this guy.” Not even a name. I get the creepy feeling that this writer may not even know it.
Who is “this guy?” Why am I supposed to be interested in what he’s doing or what happens to him? Why do I care? For pity’s sake, writer, give me his name!
Is he Uriah Heep? Then I won’t expect him to be a hero. In fact, his very name turns me off of the character, though not off of the story. What kind of a story needs someone named “Uriah Heep”? I am intrigued, and I read on.
Well, what if his name is Charles Pennington Brentwood? Okay, I already know he’s not an oil rig worker. Not a ditch-digger. Not a ranch hand. “L’il Smokey” Johnson? Sounds like he’s a cool dude who blows a hot horn. Pete Cooper? Another All-American boy. Nandi K. Pakranishan? Could be a doctor, an IT specialist, a scientist. Again, I am willing to read on.
But you see wehre I’m going with this, I think. When you give your Reader a Protagonist’s (hero’s) name, you are already setting up an expectation in the Reader’s mind.
Be careful how you name your characters; a fellow named John Beverly Rawlings-Smythe is not necessarily going to be my first choice for an infantry sergeant. Joe Garrett will be selected instead to lead a tough squad of seasoned soldiers. (A caveat, here: there are hundreds or thousands of fine British soldiers with elegant names who are easily as tough as any Americans or Aussies, and I am certainly not denigrating anyone.)
The trouble is, Readers are attuned to certain names being associated with certain endeavors, and while sometimes the most vicious serial killer might be named “Percy Goodyshoes.” I guess. I just have a really hard time believing it—or in the story that talks about him. It just doesn’t follow in the general scheme of things; not for most writers, at any rate.
Think as hard about naming your characters, young writer, as you would about naming your child. After all, in a very real sense, Charles Dickens is the “father” of Ebenezer Scrooge.” Agatha Christie gave birth both to “Miss Marple” and to “Hercule Poirot.” Dr. Seuss engendered “The Cat in the Hat” and “Sam-I-Am” and “Horton”, too.
What will you name your literary “child”?
Last week, I suggested that you write down everything you could think up about your Protagonist. This week, I’m going to ask you to name him.
Study lists of name, titles of books; scan magazines and newspapers (but don’t lift any real person’s names, because using them can get you into court, facing a libel suit that any lawyer would salivate over.)
Use only one name, either a given name or a family name (again, nothing like “Trump”, “Rockefeller”, or anything—anything!—familiar or recognizable. And please, no lady singers named “Lena Lerner,” or "Bina Burner" or Nina Nerner." Your Reader's not stupid. Don't use “Milady,” either (that’s what Madonna means in Italian.) Make up your own names.
Use some discretion and all that great talent you have got. And you have, or you wouldn’t be trying to find out how best to demonstrate it!
By the way, just a side note: since “he” and “him” are the default proper-English adverbs indicating any member of the race called “Man,” I always use the “male default.” I hope I don’t offend anyone, but if I do, I’m terribly sorry; and I hope you get over it without any ill effects. I suspect you will.
A good writer always obeys the basic rules of grammar, whether he likes them or not, until he is competent enough to try to change them; and so shall we.
See you next week, when we’ll talk about relating with your Protagonist.
Until then.
Lang out.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Weaving the Threads
I’m taking a break just now from writing a particularly harrowing scene from my new science-fiction novel, “Gusto, ” and I thought I’d drop you a line.
It’s a retrospective novel of sorts, in that Paul Riker--skipper of USS Skipjack, the Federation sublight vessel he captains, in my books—has received word of a death in his family. His grandmother, the formidable, very prejudiced and super--socially--conscious matriarch of the clan, has passed away, and he returns to his home planet, Zerev, to attend the funeral.
Not such a hot premise for a book, on the face of it; and yet, when Riker begins to discover elements of his life and family that he has never suspected, he gets drawn ever deeper into the lives of the pioneer folk of his colony planet—and understands exactly who he really is—and who is family truly are.
This kind of book is not necessarily easy to write, and I don't recommend your starting with one of this sort. If you have a great idea for one of them, shelve it until you have a few finished novels under your belt, and then go for it.
Some books are easier to write. You start with a character you know well, put him in an impossible, hopefully deadly, situation and let him get out of it by his own wits. You just follow him around, making notes. Some writers pooh-pooh this approach, but, I say, hey, to each his own. It's always worked for me, as far as it went.
Other books call for more sifting, more weighing of ideas and facts, a spinning of multiple golden threads that guide each character—like Theseus with his Minotaur—through the maze of the story. To do this, however, be sure you know the way out of the maze beforehand.
Before you start a story of any sort, you mustknow the beginning, the middle and the end, and the important thing that changes. You already will have the skeleton of your story. Fill in the blanks with anything you wish, as long as it makes sense. Situate the story anywhere you like, give the characters whatever attributes you wish, add plot twists if you want to, and still, you have the basis for your story, right there in front of you.
In my own work, I always start with one strong, engaging character--someone I'd like to know--and hopefully, two or three more of them to flesh out the story. Then I go from there.
In my initial novel, “All the Gods of Eisernon.”I used five strong characters: Dao Marik--clearly the dominant personality--Hennem-Mishli, Kles Mennon, Duli Paige and Paul Riker.
Since “Gods—“ had multiple story lines, I needed multiple strong characters to support them. Just make sure, if you decide to go this route (and before you build all those individual story lines) that the book really cannot do without them. Nothing is more confusing—or more off-putting to your Reader--than a snarl of storylines that even the writer can’t untangle.
In “The Elluvon Gift,” while I still relied Dao Marik and Paul Riker, I basically used one story line and just the two really strong lead characters, because that’s what the story called for. It was a much simpler book, from the writing standpoint. Neither better nor worse, just simpler.
For my purposes as a writer, I find that the more story lines you weave, the more ‘lead’ characters you must have. That can be a problem for the beginning writer, and sometimes for more experienced writers, too. If I were just starting out, and had not written fifteen or twenty pieces of fiction yet, I’d stick to a single, well-defined, story line, and make it the best I knew how to write.
But how do you know how?
That’s the rub, as Shakespeare was reported to have said. (These days they’re not sure he actually existed, but they quote him anyway.)
I’ll tell you next time.
Meanwhile, why not start building yourself a character whose adventures you personally would love to share. Write down every detail. Nothing is off-limits. You are bound only by good taste and your great imagination. You cannot write it ‘wrong’ because it’s yours, and you get to say what goes and what doesn’t.
Meanwhile, let’s talk next week again, shall we? Looking forward to it.
Lang out.
It’s a retrospective novel of sorts, in that Paul Riker--skipper of USS Skipjack, the Federation sublight vessel he captains, in my books—has received word of a death in his family. His grandmother, the formidable, very prejudiced and super--socially--conscious matriarch of the clan, has passed away, and he returns to his home planet, Zerev, to attend the funeral.
Not such a hot premise for a book, on the face of it; and yet, when Riker begins to discover elements of his life and family that he has never suspected, he gets drawn ever deeper into the lives of the pioneer folk of his colony planet—and understands exactly who he really is—and who is family truly are.
This kind of book is not necessarily easy to write, and I don't recommend your starting with one of this sort. If you have a great idea for one of them, shelve it until you have a few finished novels under your belt, and then go for it.
Some books are easier to write. You start with a character you know well, put him in an impossible, hopefully deadly, situation and let him get out of it by his own wits. You just follow him around, making notes. Some writers pooh-pooh this approach, but, I say, hey, to each his own. It's always worked for me, as far as it went.
Other books call for more sifting, more weighing of ideas and facts, a spinning of multiple golden threads that guide each character—like Theseus with his Minotaur—through the maze of the story. To do this, however, be sure you know the way out of the maze beforehand.
Before you start a story of any sort, you mustknow the beginning, the middle and the end, and the important thing that changes. You already will have the skeleton of your story. Fill in the blanks with anything you wish, as long as it makes sense. Situate the story anywhere you like, give the characters whatever attributes you wish, add plot twists if you want to, and still, you have the basis for your story, right there in front of you.
In my own work, I always start with one strong, engaging character--someone I'd like to know--and hopefully, two or three more of them to flesh out the story. Then I go from there.
In my initial novel, “All the Gods of Eisernon.”I used five strong characters: Dao Marik--clearly the dominant personality--Hennem-Mishli, Kles Mennon, Duli Paige and Paul Riker.
Since “Gods—“ had multiple story lines, I needed multiple strong characters to support them. Just make sure, if you decide to go this route (and before you build all those individual story lines) that the book really cannot do without them. Nothing is more confusing—or more off-putting to your Reader--than a snarl of storylines that even the writer can’t untangle.
In “The Elluvon Gift,” while I still relied Dao Marik and Paul Riker, I basically used one story line and just the two really strong lead characters, because that’s what the story called for. It was a much simpler book, from the writing standpoint. Neither better nor worse, just simpler.
For my purposes as a writer, I find that the more story lines you weave, the more ‘lead’ characters you must have. That can be a problem for the beginning writer, and sometimes for more experienced writers, too. If I were just starting out, and had not written fifteen or twenty pieces of fiction yet, I’d stick to a single, well-defined, story line, and make it the best I knew how to write.
But how do you know how?
That’s the rub, as Shakespeare was reported to have said. (These days they’re not sure he actually existed, but they quote him anyway.)
I’ll tell you next time.
Meanwhile, why not start building yourself a character whose adventures you personally would love to share. Write down every detail. Nothing is off-limits. You are bound only by good taste and your great imagination. You cannot write it ‘wrong’ because it’s yours, and you get to say what goes and what doesn’t.
Meanwhile, let’s talk next week again, shall we? Looking forward to it.
Lang out.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Let's talk about Protagonists...
What comes to mind when you hear the word, “hero?” Do you think of Charles Darnay and Sydney Carton? Of Douglas Fairbanks, pere et fils? Of the old John Wayne movies? Of James Bond, as played by any one of a number of handsome and urbane men? Harrison Ford in space and the White House? Of Mel Gibson in woad and plaid? Of Jackie Chan, Leonardo Di Capro, Tom Cruise, Denzel Washington? Or even of Tom Clancy’s perennial hero, Jack Ryan? Any or all of them?
Beyond the glitz, the publicists, the puffery, we as writers have to ask, what makes a hero? What exactly does that mean? What is the stuff of heroes?
Courage, I would think. No hero slinks away or hides behind a woman’s skirts when danger threatens. Physical courage that makes a man go up against overwhelming odds for a good cause. That makes a woman have the child against doctor’s orders, rather than ‘terminating’ her baby’s life in favor of her own. Moral courage, too, that urges a young child to tell the truth even in the face of bullying by his peers. Or a teen-aged girl’s keeping herself chaste against the opinions of her friends and the conditional attentions of her attractive, lusty young boyfriend.
Perseverance. The drive that makes a man stick with the sick wife, the witchy wife, the cold wife. The sense of more than duty, the passionate inner sense that is a kind of a love no one makes movies about: the ferocious steadfastness of having made a covenant and sticking to it. There is something terribly heroic about that. The quiet martyrdom of someone who doesn’t consider himself—or herself—a martyr at all. The perseverance of the woman who continues to love the child who would never listen, the charming child whose disobedience was his hallmark, and who ends up hooked on something horrible, while his mother continues to love and weep and pray.
Laughter. I’m not talking about the sarcastic laughter, the derision, the scoffing. I mean true, real humor. Nothing put-down, better-than, or prejudiced. Just funny, dear and truly manly humor, especially with and toward those who are more vulnerable. There is something heroic about a man or woman who can relate with others enough to make laughter come bubbling up from the unseen sources of the heart.
Fear. Now wait, we’re talking about heroes here. Fear? You bet! No one can be heroic without first being afraid. If someone is terrified, say, of cats, it would take heroism for them to pick one up in his arms. But if he were not first afraid, then picking up a cat would be commonplace, not important enough to be mentioned. If a soldier is afraid of being killed, it takes heroism to go forth and engage the enemy anyway. If a woman is afraid of labor, it takes heroism for her to go through it for the sake of her child. It is heroic for a doctor to dare operate on a moribund patient whose only chance is the doctor’s skill. For a lawyer to take on a case that has already been tried in the media. For an EMT to give first aid to an accident victim, whose life rests in their hands.
What do you consider heroism?
Please write to me at simon_lang@rocketmail.com and let me know what one quality you think a hero must have. I will post every letter that does not violate Net laws, and we can all see what you think.
In the meantime, be brave, live boldly, and laugh kindly. See you next week.
Lang out.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
My first book, as opposed to ‘my first published book, was an historical fiction novel about ancient Rome. It ran some three hundred thousand words. It was, to quote the agent who kindly tried her best to represent it, “Not the best I’ve read, but not the worst, either.” ( I read it again recently. She must have been reading some real ‘dogs,’ because my book was mediocre, at best.)
So I went back and edited it down to two hundred thousand words,thereby immediately improving it by thirty-three and a third percent.
It’s better now (it wasn’t hard to make it better; just about anything I did to it would have made it better, I think) and it will probably never get published, but I save it for head-reduction purposes.
Whenever I get an award, or get written up in the media, or find myself quoted all over the Internet, and I start thinking I’m pretty hot, and ‘Whoa, just look at who’s a great writer here,’ and puff stuff like that, I take out my good old copy of “The Thundering Legion” and read a few chapters, and my head size diminishes visibly.
It’s good for my humility, and brings me back to recognizing that all talent, great or small, is a gift from God, and that I’m lucky He let me be a writer. And I resolve yet again never to let Him--or my Gift–-or myself—down again.
Remember never to let your own Gift down, either. Whether you are a beginner, a journeyman or a famous professional, always remember that it is a Gift, and that you owe it--and the Giver-- your level best, no matter how much work you have to put into it, no matter how difficult it is. It's your job to push the Gift--and your work--above the level of Mediocrity, past 'So-so', on through 'Much better,' and break the ribbon as you race into 'Now you're a Pro!'
This awareness separates the wannabees from the potential Pros: the ability (natural or cultivated) to push through your own lassitude, through all the distractions, the naysayers, the doom-criers and the crab-basket occupants, who would love to see you succeed, if only it didn't point up the fact that they themselves never have tried quite hard enough, or long enough.
Hang in there. Keep writing. Write anything, good, bad or indifferent. It can always get better once it's on the paper, the tablet, the computer document. Then you can adjust, slam, rewrite, carve, fashion, and caress it. But it has to be there! You need to have it down where you can get at it. You need to have something to correct. Just remember, no one can edit what you're thinking! Get it down on paper!
Go away now, and write. The world is waiting.
Best,
Lang out.
Check out the second edition of my initial novel, 'All the Gods of Eisernon' at http://www.youpublish.com/simonlangbooks
Contact me at simon_lang@rocketmail.com
So I went back and edited it down to two hundred thousand words,thereby immediately improving it by thirty-three and a third percent.
It’s better now (it wasn’t hard to make it better; just about anything I did to it would have made it better, I think) and it will probably never get published, but I save it for head-reduction purposes.
Whenever I get an award, or get written up in the media, or find myself quoted all over the Internet, and I start thinking I’m pretty hot, and ‘Whoa, just look at who’s a great writer here,’ and puff stuff like that, I take out my good old copy of “The Thundering Legion” and read a few chapters, and my head size diminishes visibly.
I hope you’re smiling just about now, because I certainly am.
It’s good for my humility, and brings me back to recognizing that all talent, great or small, is a gift from God, and that I’m lucky He let me be a writer. And I resolve yet again never to let Him--or my Gift–-or myself—down again.
Remember never to let your own Gift down, either. Whether you are a beginner, a journeyman or a famous professional, always remember that it is a Gift, and that you owe it--and the Giver-- your level best, no matter how much work you have to put into it, no matter how difficult it is. It's your job to push the Gift--and your work--above the level of Mediocrity, past 'So-so', on through 'Much better,' and break the ribbon as you race into 'Now you're a Pro!'
This awareness separates the wannabees from the potential Pros: the ability (natural or cultivated) to push through your own lassitude, through all the distractions, the naysayers, the doom-criers and the crab-basket occupants, who would love to see you succeed, if only it didn't point up the fact that they themselves never have tried quite hard enough, or long enough.
Hang in there. Keep writing. Write anything, good, bad or indifferent. It can always get better once it's on the paper, the tablet, the computer document. Then you can adjust, slam, rewrite, carve, fashion, and caress it. But it has to be there! You need to have it down where you can get at it. You need to have something to correct. Just remember, no one can edit what you're thinking! Get it down on paper!
Go away now, and write. The world is waiting.
Best,
Lang out.
Check out the second edition of my initial novel, 'All the Gods of Eisernon' at http://www.youpublish.com/simonlangbooks
Contact me at simon_lang@rocketmail.com
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