Last week, I talked about the importance of going beyond market guides when researching potential publishers for your work. Since most authors are also devoted readers within the genre they write, your reading time can be part of your research.
Molly Blaisdell, author of Rembrandt and the Boy Who Drew Dogs (Barron’s Educational Series, 2008), starts market research with “a reader’s approach. I have a book journal [with notes]. I learn about books all over—networking at conferences, going to bookstores, chatting with folks online. I don’t look at trends. I don’t care how much the advance was. I only look at what I like. Did I care enough to read this book? If I did, I might want to do business with these people.”
After gathering this information, Blaisdell keeps it organized with a submission spreadsheet. “I start a new line every time I learn the name of a new house or editor that I am interested in. After some research I will add the title of my book that I think best connects with that house. I gather hard concrete evidence about what these editors and agents like: books, genres, etc. That stuff goes in the comments. If I glance down my spreadsheet, my last 20 submissions all led to personal responses [such as] requested manuscripts or at the least a wish to see more work.”
Blaisdell gives an example of how market research worked for her. “I wanted to write an art book. I looked into what houses sell those kinds of books. Then I heard a tip at a conference, from a writer, that one house was considering publishing more art books. I wrote a one paragraph query letter on the basis of my research and that conference tip. I was able to convey in very few lines that I knew the exactly what kind of books this house published and I was aware of the publishing house’s goal.” The query led to the sale of Rembrandt and the Boy Who Drew Dogs.
Online or at the Library
All this research can sound overwhelming, but, Blaisdell says, “You have to be pretty lazy these days to not target houses. Just Google the editor’s name! Don’t know the editor? Google the name with ‘editor’ and the book title and the author’s name. Nine times out of ten you are done. Research has become very simple. I have several bookmarked websites that I check on a regular basis. If the editor or agent that you are interested in has a blog, you need to become a faithful reader and post on it sometimes.”
Don't neglect old-fashioned research either—at the library. Shutta Crum, a retired librarian and author of A Family for Old Mill Farm (Clarion, 2007), says, “I am always amazed about how little some writers use their public libraries for research. Not only are the important titles, like the Literary Market Place, in most reference collections, but many libraries subscribe to databases that are worthwhile for authors. Often these databases are available to home users by simply inputting their library card number and a pin number.”
Is market research starting to sound exhausting? It is a lot of work. With all the information available, beware of getting carried away by market research. “The tricky thing is not wasting your time,” Blaisdell says. “You should be working toward creating a list of targeted editors. Do not collect any information about anyone that is not a real connection. Do not put a name in your spreadsheet without a reason!”
EXERCISE: Take the list of publishers you developed last week and start doing further research, either online or at the library. Make a short list of books from each publisher—ones in the same genre and age group as yours, which you've read or plan to get and read.
Next week: We'll discuss how the value of personal connections—how to use them and not abuse them.
Research Help
World Catalog lists books in collections around the world (non-fiction and some fiction). Do a subject search to see what has already been written on your topic.
Books in Print and Books Out Of Print, by Gale Research Company, available through many libraries, are also good places to check on titles and subjects.
NoveList is a fiction database with reviews, annotations, and more, searchable by author, title, plot and series. It’s available at many libraries.
CYNSATIONS has fabulous editor and author interviews.
Robin Friedman has more editor interviews.
Verla Kay’s message board is a popular site for networking and information.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Making the Most of Market Research
New market guides are coming out soon. Maybe you've put one on your holiday wish list, or maybe you'll visit the library to browse one there. That's a good starting place for market research, but it isn't enough. The next few posts will discuss how you can help your submission rise out of the slush pile. These posts are excerpted and adapted from an article first published in Children's Writer's Guide to 2009.
Eleni Beja, who was then Associate Editor at Scholastic, said she saw few submissions that are perfectly targeted. “For every ten,” she said, “I’ll see about two that are right for Scholastic. Of the two, I’ll see nil-to-one that are right for Scholastic and me.”
Dial Editor Alisha Niehaus said, “I’ve only seen something truly inappropriate a couple of times. More commonly, someone will send a project that’s too commercial for Dial, or on a topic in which we have a strong backlist—things which, no matter what their merit, won’t fit on our list.”
The same “close but not quite” holds true for magazines, according to Marileta Robinson, Senior Editor at Highlights for Children. “The majority of submissions we see are in the ballpark of meeting our guidelines. That’s not to say that the majority are right for Highlights. Tone, length, writing quality, age appropriateness, and subject matter have a great deal to do with a manuscript’s chances of success.”
Digging Deeper
A market guide is a great place to start. They list hundreds of publishers, with details about what the editors want. Most include a category index. According to Marni McNiff, editor of Book Markets for Children's Writers and Magazine Markets for Children's Writers, “Using the extensive category index in the back of the book can help you to narrow your market selections based on age range and topic. Writers should read through several listings that they feel would be a good fit for their piece [and] follow their writers' guidelines carefully.”
After identifying a few publishers, authors should do more targeted research, Robinson suggests. “Reading the guidelines and current needs posted on our web site and studying several issues of the magazine can help a writer learn what we are and are not looking for.”
Edward Necarsulmer IV, Director of the Children’s Department at literary agency McIntosh and Otis, does some research “the old-fashioned way”—drinks or lunch with editors. Authors don’t have that option, but they can use his other techniques. “Publisher’s catalogs are enormous resources for us. I can really see an imprint’s style.” Catalogs also let him know about the publisher’s other policies, such as what rights they’re buying. Authors can find publisher’s catalogs online, request them from the publisher, or ask bookstores and libraries to pass along the ones they’ve used.
Janet Fox describes the research she did to sell Get Organized Without Losing It (Free Spirit Publishing, 2006). “My book idea was non-fiction, for middle grades, and for kids who have trouble getting and staying organized. I looked at existing books on organizational skills for older kids and adults, talked with teachers and librarians, and analyzed the demand for the type of book I proposed.” She checked Books in Print and found nothing current for her target audience.
“Then I researched publishing houses. I was looking for a publisher that specialized in books for kids and adults, whose focus was on self-help. That is Free Spirit’s mission statement. Of course, I looked at their online and paper catalog, and had already seen a number of their books, and felt that the manuscript I was drafting fit hand in glove with their other offerings, which included a book for older teens on study skills.”
EXERCISE: Use the category index in your market guide to make a short list of publishers appropriate for one of your manuscripts. Then prepare to do more research over the following weeks.
Next week: book journals, submission spreadsheet and Google.
Market Guides
Book Markets for Children's Writers and Magazine Markets for Children's Writers list hundreds of publishers, with information about submission policies and needs.
Children's Writer's & Illustrator's Market offers similar information.
Writer's Market also has an online subscription option with a searchable database.
The Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators has many market guides, updated yearly, available online to members. “Edited By” lists books edited by particular editors. The Bulletin newsletter has frequent updates.
Eleni Beja, who was then Associate Editor at Scholastic, said she saw few submissions that are perfectly targeted. “For every ten,” she said, “I’ll see about two that are right for Scholastic. Of the two, I’ll see nil-to-one that are right for Scholastic and me.”
Dial Editor Alisha Niehaus said, “I’ve only seen something truly inappropriate a couple of times. More commonly, someone will send a project that’s too commercial for Dial, or on a topic in which we have a strong backlist—things which, no matter what their merit, won’t fit on our list.”
The same “close but not quite” holds true for magazines, according to Marileta Robinson, Senior Editor at Highlights for Children. “The majority of submissions we see are in the ballpark of meeting our guidelines. That’s not to say that the majority are right for Highlights. Tone, length, writing quality, age appropriateness, and subject matter have a great deal to do with a manuscript’s chances of success.”
Digging Deeper
A market guide is a great place to start. They list hundreds of publishers, with details about what the editors want. Most include a category index. According to Marni McNiff, editor of Book Markets for Children's Writers and Magazine Markets for Children's Writers, “Using the extensive category index in the back of the book can help you to narrow your market selections based on age range and topic. Writers should read through several listings that they feel would be a good fit for their piece [and] follow their writers' guidelines carefully.”
After identifying a few publishers, authors should do more targeted research, Robinson suggests. “Reading the guidelines and current needs posted on our web site and studying several issues of the magazine can help a writer learn what we are and are not looking for.”
Edward Necarsulmer IV, Director of the Children’s Department at literary agency McIntosh and Otis, does some research “the old-fashioned way”—drinks or lunch with editors. Authors don’t have that option, but they can use his other techniques. “Publisher’s catalogs are enormous resources for us. I can really see an imprint’s style.” Catalogs also let him know about the publisher’s other policies, such as what rights they’re buying. Authors can find publisher’s catalogs online, request them from the publisher, or ask bookstores and libraries to pass along the ones they’ve used.
Janet Fox describes the research she did to sell Get Organized Without Losing It (Free Spirit Publishing, 2006). “My book idea was non-fiction, for middle grades, and for kids who have trouble getting and staying organized. I looked at existing books on organizational skills for older kids and adults, talked with teachers and librarians, and analyzed the demand for the type of book I proposed.” She checked Books in Print and found nothing current for her target audience.
“Then I researched publishing houses. I was looking for a publisher that specialized in books for kids and adults, whose focus was on self-help. That is Free Spirit’s mission statement. Of course, I looked at their online and paper catalog, and had already seen a number of their books, and felt that the manuscript I was drafting fit hand in glove with their other offerings, which included a book for older teens on study skills.”
EXERCISE: Use the category index in your market guide to make a short list of publishers appropriate for one of your manuscripts. Then prepare to do more research over the following weeks.
Next week: book journals, submission spreadsheet and Google.
Market Guides
Book Markets for Children's Writers and Magazine Markets for Children's Writers list hundreds of publishers, with information about submission policies and needs.
Children's Writer's & Illustrator's Market offers similar information.
Writer's Market also has an online subscription option with a searchable database.
The Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators has many market guides, updated yearly, available online to members. “Edited By” lists books edited by particular editors. The Bulletin newsletter has frequent updates.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Paragraphing for Cliffhangers
I've talked a lot about cliffhangers in recent months. I've explored how to find your cliffhanger moments, then how to draw those out by focusing on suspense rather than surprise and using lots of detail. One step remains: paragraphing for maximum dramatic impact.
My favorite writing book ever, Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, by Renni Browne and Dave King, has a whole chapter on paragraph breaks. They note that you can add tension to a scene by using short paragraphs. With short paragraphs, the reader's eyes move more quickly down the page, subconsciously giving a sense of speed. Short paragraphs—and short sentences—also mimic the way we speak when we are upset, anxious, or in a hurry.
Let's look at an example from Haunted 2: The Riverboat Phantom. This chapter ending could be done as one full paragraph, as only one person speaks, and the action only takes a few moments.
“Wait!” Tania shrieked as she stumbled forward, arms reaching out. I leapt toward her to catch her but realized too late that she wasn’t talking to me, or reaching for me. Her hand moved like she was grabbing an invisible arm, then she gasped and pulled back, hugging the hand to her body. My momentum carried me forward, even as I tried to stop. I felt the cold first on my arms, like icy vice grips squeezing my biceps, then waves of cold flowed down to my hands, up to my shoulders, and all through my body. I tried to breathe, but my chest felt too tight. My vision blurred and darkened. The last thing I saw was Tania’s horrified face, before I fell.
But that big paragraph with long sentences gives a feel of rambling narrative. In comparison, the following version (as published), uses shorter paragraphs and shorter sentences, focusing down to a single three-word sentence in the final paragraph, which gives each moment clarity and impact.
“Wait!” Tania shrieked. She stumbled forward, arms reaching out. I leapt toward her to catch her.
Too late, I realized she wasn’t talking to me, or reaching for me. Her hand moved like she was grabbing an invisible arm. She gasped and pulled back, hugging the hand to her body.
My momentum carried me forward, even as I tried to stop. I felt the cold first on my arms, like icy vice grips squeezing my biceps. Then waves of cold flowed down to my hands, up to my shoulders, all through my body.
I tried to breathe, but my chest felt too tight.
My vision blurred, darkened. The last thing I saw was Tania’s horrified face.
And I fell.
Exercises: Study a few published books. Flip through a chapter, not reading it, but looking at the white space. Does it change toward the end of the chapter, with shorter paragraphs? Then look at sentence lengths—do they change toward the end of the chapter?
If the book you're studying does not change (and many published books do not), try rewriting the chapter ending using the cliffhanger techniques I've been discussing —suspense rather than surprise, plenty of detail, and finally short paragraphs and short sentences.
Then look at some of your own work. Can you add drama to the chapter endings with these techniques? Good luck!
My favorite writing book ever, Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, by Renni Browne and Dave King, has a whole chapter on paragraph breaks. They note that you can add tension to a scene by using short paragraphs. With short paragraphs, the reader's eyes move more quickly down the page, subconsciously giving a sense of speed. Short paragraphs—and short sentences—also mimic the way we speak when we are upset, anxious, or in a hurry.
Let's look at an example from Haunted 2: The Riverboat Phantom. This chapter ending could be done as one full paragraph, as only one person speaks, and the action only takes a few moments.
“Wait!” Tania shrieked as she stumbled forward, arms reaching out. I leapt toward her to catch her but realized too late that she wasn’t talking to me, or reaching for me. Her hand moved like she was grabbing an invisible arm, then she gasped and pulled back, hugging the hand to her body. My momentum carried me forward, even as I tried to stop. I felt the cold first on my arms, like icy vice grips squeezing my biceps, then waves of cold flowed down to my hands, up to my shoulders, and all through my body. I tried to breathe, but my chest felt too tight. My vision blurred and darkened. The last thing I saw was Tania’s horrified face, before I fell.
But that big paragraph with long sentences gives a feel of rambling narrative. In comparison, the following version (as published), uses shorter paragraphs and shorter sentences, focusing down to a single three-word sentence in the final paragraph, which gives each moment clarity and impact.
“Wait!” Tania shrieked. She stumbled forward, arms reaching out. I leapt toward her to catch her.
Too late, I realized she wasn’t talking to me, or reaching for me. Her hand moved like she was grabbing an invisible arm. She gasped and pulled back, hugging the hand to her body.
My momentum carried me forward, even as I tried to stop. I felt the cold first on my arms, like icy vice grips squeezing my biceps. Then waves of cold flowed down to my hands, up to my shoulders, all through my body.
I tried to breathe, but my chest felt too tight.
My vision blurred, darkened. The last thing I saw was Tania’s horrified face.
And I fell.
Exercises: Study a few published books. Flip through a chapter, not reading it, but looking at the white space. Does it change toward the end of the chapter, with shorter paragraphs? Then look at sentence lengths—do they change toward the end of the chapter?
If the book you're studying does not change (and many published books do not), try rewriting the chapter ending using the cliffhanger techniques I've been discussing —suspense rather than surprise, plenty of detail, and finally short paragraphs and short sentences.
Then look at some of your own work. Can you add drama to the chapter endings with these techniques? Good luck!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Cliffhanger Cheats
Yes, we're still talking about cliffhangers (I love them so much!) But there are some I don't love—the cheats. These can do more harm than good.
Cheat cliffhangers come in two flavors. The first involves a fake or misleading cliffhanger moment. I remember reading an older book about a certain famous girl detective. She and her friends were investigating mysterious happenings in an old castle. In one chapter, they were standing on a cliff, looking at the castle. Suddenly a storm blows up! Lightning hits the tree next to them! A branch falls!
…. And at the start of the next chapter, they leaped out of the way, then go about their business. The storm had nothing to do with the plot, and wasn't even set up. This kind of random, forced cliffhanger is more likely to leave the reader feeling baffled than excited.
The lesson here: Cliffhangers should fit naturally into the plot. If you don't have a cliffhanger moment, revise your plot to add one, rather than trying to force one in. (It can be fun to occasionally have tense moments that turns silly, such as a vicious-looking dog that leaps toward your main character, only to cover her face with slobbery kisses. This builds tension, then releases it with comic relief. Don't use these so often that your readers come to expect them, though, or they won’t believe in the danger.)
The second kind of weak cliffhanger is the "If I had known" ending. You see it far too often -- everything seems to be going well, but the narrator says, "If I had known then what would happen, I never would have gone," or something similar. These endings pull me out of the story. I was right there with the narrator, in the present. But wait, now she's talking from future knowledge? When is now? It’s even more clunky when it's a third person narrator. Don't jump through time to give us insight that the character doesn't have yet. It's lazy, and feels like the author is saying, "I know it's not exciting right now, but just wait! It gets better!" Don't tell me it will be exciting, make it exciting now.
So what do you do if you have to end a chapter when things are going well? Even in good times, you can still have foreboding. In the (not yet published) fourth Haunted book, I had a moment where everything seemed under control, but I ended the chapter like this:
I still had a bad feeling. I tried to shake it off. What did I think I was, psychic?
But I didn't have to be psychic to know that nothing comes easily, or without a price.
This keeps us in the moment, in Jon's head, but because he feels uneasy, the reader gets the sense that things aren't so great after all. (See my post two weeks ago for more on how to end a chapter in a quiet moment, and still have a sense that the story is driving forward.)
But what if you want your character to mistakenly believe that everything is fine, with no sense of danger ahead? This can lead to even greater drama, when the character’s expectations are cruelly disappointed. Here's a neat little trick. From our experiences in reading, we expect reversals. When we hear "Nothing could possibly go wrong now," what do we expect? Yes, we expect chaos and destruction to follow. In literature, the sense that everything is perfect actually leads us to expect the opposite (except at the very end of the book). Note that this works for middle grade through adult readers, but not for younger readers, who don't have the story experience to expect reversals.
Next week—cliffhangers in picture books!
Cheat cliffhangers come in two flavors. The first involves a fake or misleading cliffhanger moment. I remember reading an older book about a certain famous girl detective. She and her friends were investigating mysterious happenings in an old castle. In one chapter, they were standing on a cliff, looking at the castle. Suddenly a storm blows up! Lightning hits the tree next to them! A branch falls!
…. And at the start of the next chapter, they leaped out of the way, then go about their business. The storm had nothing to do with the plot, and wasn't even set up. This kind of random, forced cliffhanger is more likely to leave the reader feeling baffled than excited.
The lesson here: Cliffhangers should fit naturally into the plot. If you don't have a cliffhanger moment, revise your plot to add one, rather than trying to force one in. (It can be fun to occasionally have tense moments that turns silly, such as a vicious-looking dog that leaps toward your main character, only to cover her face with slobbery kisses. This builds tension, then releases it with comic relief. Don't use these so often that your readers come to expect them, though, or they won’t believe in the danger.)
The second kind of weak cliffhanger is the "If I had known" ending. You see it far too often -- everything seems to be going well, but the narrator says, "If I had known then what would happen, I never would have gone," or something similar. These endings pull me out of the story. I was right there with the narrator, in the present. But wait, now she's talking from future knowledge? When is now? It’s even more clunky when it's a third person narrator. Don't jump through time to give us insight that the character doesn't have yet. It's lazy, and feels like the author is saying, "I know it's not exciting right now, but just wait! It gets better!" Don't tell me it will be exciting, make it exciting now.
So what do you do if you have to end a chapter when things are going well? Even in good times, you can still have foreboding. In the (not yet published) fourth Haunted book, I had a moment where everything seemed under control, but I ended the chapter like this:
I still had a bad feeling. I tried to shake it off. What did I think I was, psychic?
But I didn't have to be psychic to know that nothing comes easily, or without a price.
This keeps us in the moment, in Jon's head, but because he feels uneasy, the reader gets the sense that things aren't so great after all. (See my post two weeks ago for more on how to end a chapter in a quiet moment, and still have a sense that the story is driving forward.)
But what if you want your character to mistakenly believe that everything is fine, with no sense of danger ahead? This can lead to even greater drama, when the character’s expectations are cruelly disappointed. Here's a neat little trick. From our experiences in reading, we expect reversals. When we hear "Nothing could possibly go wrong now," what do we expect? Yes, we expect chaos and destruction to follow. In literature, the sense that everything is perfect actually leads us to expect the opposite (except at the very end of the book). Note that this works for middle grade through adult readers, but not for younger readers, who don't have the story experience to expect reversals.
Next week—cliffhangers in picture books!
Friday, September 3, 2010
A Little Change for A Lot More Tension
If you've been following this blog, you know I'm a fan of cliffhanger chapter endings, whether that means pausing in the middle of an action scene, or simply ending in a quieter moment that still looks forward. So once you've chosen your cliffhanger moment, how do you make the most of it?
Sometimes you may need to add a little new material -- new thoughts, new dialogue, or even a twist in the action -- in order to build a proper cliffhanger moment. As a bonus, this may take your story in new and interesting directions.
Examples:
In Haunted: The Ghost on the Stairs, I had a scene where the kids call their father. He is a scientist who does not believe in ghosts, so they are trying to get advice on how he would research ghosts, without letting him know what's going on. To add more tension—and a cliffhanger ending—I had Mom walk in during the conversation and get upset over what she heard and misunderstood. That's much more powerful than just having the kids say goodbye to Dad and hang up. Plus, it adds a twist to the story as Mom, feeling guilty about neglecting her kids, decides to spend the whole next day with them, interfering with their plans.
In Haunted: The Riverboat Phantom, I didn’t have this ploy of Tania’s in the original outline, but needed to end the chapter with something more than just having the kids walk off.
“I wish we could do something about Madame Natasha,” Tania said. “She makes Mom unhappy, and she’s poking in our business. We’ve just got to get rid of her.”
I rubbed my hands over my face and yawned. I still felt kind of weak after my ghost encounter. “One thing at a time, OK? Let’s deal with Henry O’Brien [the ghost] first.”
Tania got that look in her eyes. The one that means trouble ahead. “But maybe they’re not separate problems. Mr. O’Brien seems ready to believe the worst of everybody. And if there’s one person who deserves it, it’s Madame Natasha!”
“You want to sic Henry O’Brien on her?”
“Why not? It’s about time a ghost did us a favor.”
This encourages the reader to turn the page, to find out just how they sic the ghost on the fake psychic, and whether it works.
Exercise: Look over your chapter endings and see if a minor tweak to the action could create a more powerful cliffhanger. (See my June posts on cliffhangers for more help.)
Next week -- keeping your cliffhangers honest.
Sometimes you may need to add a little new material -- new thoughts, new dialogue, or even a twist in the action -- in order to build a proper cliffhanger moment. As a bonus, this may take your story in new and interesting directions.
Examples:
In Haunted: The Ghost on the Stairs, I had a scene where the kids call their father. He is a scientist who does not believe in ghosts, so they are trying to get advice on how he would research ghosts, without letting him know what's going on. To add more tension—and a cliffhanger ending—I had Mom walk in during the conversation and get upset over what she heard and misunderstood. That's much more powerful than just having the kids say goodbye to Dad and hang up. Plus, it adds a twist to the story as Mom, feeling guilty about neglecting her kids, decides to spend the whole next day with them, interfering with their plans.
In Haunted: The Riverboat Phantom, I didn’t have this ploy of Tania’s in the original outline, but needed to end the chapter with something more than just having the kids walk off.
“I wish we could do something about Madame Natasha,” Tania said. “She makes Mom unhappy, and she’s poking in our business. We’ve just got to get rid of her.”
I rubbed my hands over my face and yawned. I still felt kind of weak after my ghost encounter. “One thing at a time, OK? Let’s deal with Henry O’Brien [the ghost] first.”
Tania got that look in her eyes. The one that means trouble ahead. “But maybe they’re not separate problems. Mr. O’Brien seems ready to believe the worst of everybody. And if there’s one person who deserves it, it’s Madame Natasha!”
“You want to sic Henry O’Brien on her?”
“Why not? It’s about time a ghost did us a favor.”
This encourages the reader to turn the page, to find out just how they sic the ghost on the fake psychic, and whether it works.
Exercise: Look over your chapter endings and see if a minor tweak to the action could create a more powerful cliffhanger. (See my June posts on cliffhangers for more help.)
Next week -- keeping your cliffhangers honest.
Friday, August 27, 2010
More on Cliffhangers
I've discussed cliffhangers before, but it's a subject worth revisiting. I read many manuscripts and even published books that don't take advantage of the power of a good cliffhanger. Back in June, I discussed how to focus on suspense rather than surprise for a cliffhanger. But what if your book doesn't have big physical action scenes? Or what if you need to end a chapter in a quieter moment, because that moment will be followed by a large jump in time or place?
You can still use a version of a cliffhanger. Try to focus on a moment that is powerful emotionally, and still looks toward the future, whether because of anticipation of what comes next or disappointment over what just happened.
Examples:
In The Amethyst Road, by Louise Spiegler, the main character spends much of the book searching for her mother. She believes finding her mother will solve her problems, but instead of a joyful reunion, their meeting goes like this:
“Her gaze swept over me. The hollows in her cheeks and under her eyes stood out like smudges of dirt. It had been three years since I’d seen her, but she’d aged at least ten. Her expression was measuring, distrustful. She moved as if expecting harm.
I fell back. Did she fear me? Was it possible—did she not know who I was?
Serena pushes on, making contact, and finally explaining her problem to her mother. Serena's sister has had a baby, who has been taken by "The Cruelty," a sinister version of child protective services. This chapter ends with another twist against Serena's expectations and hope, a severe disappointment which will force her to start solving her problem from scratch:
Mother’s smile vanished. "But, Serena, how can I help? The Cruelty won't even let me care for my own children." She raised her face to mine. "Look at me. I can hardly help myself, daughter. How can I help you?
In I Am Jack by Susanne Gervay, Jack is having a problem at school, and desperately needs help. Even the frustration of not being able to get a mother's attention can provide a cliffhanger, as you see by this Chapter 1 ending:
At last, Mom to myself. “Mom, Mom.” She is making dinner already and Samantha’s helping her with the pasta sauce.
“Later, Jack darling. When I’m finished making dinner.”
“Don’t call me darling, Mom.” I slump onto the couch. Later. That’s a joke. Rob will be here soon and then there will be dinner, washing up and I have to have a shower and there’s homework and television. Mom will be tired. There’ll be NO time and I HAVE to talk to Mom.
I think I’m in BIG trouble.
Sometimes you may even have a dramatic cliffhanger moment, but if you end the chapter there, you have only a couple of paragraphs before jumping to a new scene. It may feel more natural to end the chapter at the end of the scene or end of the day. That’s fine, if you still set up anticipation, as Joni Sensel does in The Farwalker's Quest:
They worked out a plan. After Pres left them to sleep, Ariel and Zeke only lay back and gazed at the ceiling. His toes, warm against her calf, seemed to say all that was needed between them. This night in a real bed would be the last for long time to come.
That last sentence emphasizes that their challenging journey isn't over yet. It's a quiet moment, but it promises more action to come. So go ahead and end in a quieter moment sometimes—so long as you're still looking forward.
Exercise: Go through your manuscript, or even a published book. Look for quiet chapter endings. Do they still drive the story forward, with anticipation for the future? If not, can you rewrite them so that they will?
Check back over the next two weeks for suggestions on minor story adjustments that can put power behind your cliffhangers, followed by a discussion of cliffhangers in picture books.
You can still use a version of a cliffhanger. Try to focus on a moment that is powerful emotionally, and still looks toward the future, whether because of anticipation of what comes next or disappointment over what just happened.
Examples:
In The Amethyst Road, by Louise Spiegler, the main character spends much of the book searching for her mother. She believes finding her mother will solve her problems, but instead of a joyful reunion, their meeting goes like this:
“Her gaze swept over me. The hollows in her cheeks and under her eyes stood out like smudges of dirt. It had been three years since I’d seen her, but she’d aged at least ten. Her expression was measuring, distrustful. She moved as if expecting harm.
I fell back. Did she fear me? Was it possible—did she not know who I was?
Serena pushes on, making contact, and finally explaining her problem to her mother. Serena's sister has had a baby, who has been taken by "The Cruelty," a sinister version of child protective services. This chapter ends with another twist against Serena's expectations and hope, a severe disappointment which will force her to start solving her problem from scratch:
Mother’s smile vanished. "But, Serena, how can I help? The Cruelty won't even let me care for my own children." She raised her face to mine. "Look at me. I can hardly help myself, daughter. How can I help you?
In I Am Jack by Susanne Gervay, Jack is having a problem at school, and desperately needs help. Even the frustration of not being able to get a mother's attention can provide a cliffhanger, as you see by this Chapter 1 ending:
At last, Mom to myself. “Mom, Mom.” She is making dinner already and Samantha’s helping her with the pasta sauce.
“Later, Jack darling. When I’m finished making dinner.”
“Don’t call me darling, Mom.” I slump onto the couch. Later. That’s a joke. Rob will be here soon and then there will be dinner, washing up and I have to have a shower and there’s homework and television. Mom will be tired. There’ll be NO time and I HAVE to talk to Mom.
I think I’m in BIG trouble.
Sometimes you may even have a dramatic cliffhanger moment, but if you end the chapter there, you have only a couple of paragraphs before jumping to a new scene. It may feel more natural to end the chapter at the end of the scene or end of the day. That’s fine, if you still set up anticipation, as Joni Sensel does in The Farwalker's Quest:
They worked out a plan. After Pres left them to sleep, Ariel and Zeke only lay back and gazed at the ceiling. His toes, warm against her calf, seemed to say all that was needed between them. This night in a real bed would be the last for long time to come.
That last sentence emphasizes that their challenging journey isn't over yet. It's a quiet moment, but it promises more action to come. So go ahead and end in a quieter moment sometimes—so long as you're still looking forward.
Exercise: Go through your manuscript, or even a published book. Look for quiet chapter endings. Do they still drive the story forward, with anticipation for the future? If not, can you rewrite them so that they will?
Check back over the next two weeks for suggestions on minor story adjustments that can put power behind your cliffhangers, followed by a discussion of cliffhangers in picture books.
Friday, August 13, 2010
The Story Chart, with John Martin
I'm visiting today with John Martin, author of The Bird and founder of Boys Read, an organization whose mission is “to transform boys into lifelong readers.” Here John shares his Story Chart, a tool for writers.
How and why did you come up with the Story Chart?
After watching an interview between Bill Moyer and Joseph Campbell, I got really interested in Campbell’s mythology books. I read Hero With a Thousand Faces and The Power of Myth. I later took a screenwriting course and was introduced to Christopher Vogler’s book, Hero’s Journey [links go to brief summaries]. At this point, I had a head full mythology and story structure, but had no way to apply it to my own writing, much less teach it to others. I decided I wanted to teach a writing workshop based on Campbell’s work. In my corporate life, I had used structured templates for teaching adults conceptual methodologies. By combining corporate teaching experience with writing experience, I was able to come up with the framework for my Story Chart. [Click on chart to see it full size.]
How has it helped you with your own work?
My Story Chart helps me as a plotting and rewrite tool. I use the Story Chart in the beginning of the writing process. It helps guide me through the rough water of getting a story launched from harbor and into open sea. As a rewrite tool, I can often quickly identify where my vessel is drifting off course and where my lines need tightening to give my sails a little more boost.
Do you have any tips for using the chart?
Start by reading Vogel’s Hero’s Journey. It’s easily understood. If things click for you, go further with Campbell’s teaching. Also, watch for the timeless structure in movies that you rent. It’s very easy to spot in movies, especially with kids movies, modern and classics.
Friday, August 6, 2010
The Drama of a Place
I've been discussing ways to add tension to your stories, by making better use of elements such as the villain or secondary characters. You can also look to your setting for more drama. Sometimes the possibilities are obvious. In my Mayan historical adventure, The Well of Sacrifice, I opened with the heroine gathering medicinal plants in the jungle, and running into a tribe of savages. In later chapters, she gets trapped inside the dead king’s sealed tomb, and then thrown into a sacrificial well. How's that for a dramatic use of setting!
But not every book has to have tombs or cliffs. Even everyday settings such as school or a suburban neighborhood can provide elements for adding drama, humor, or other interest.
In the Haunted books, the "setting" is a traveling ghost hunter TV show, with different specific settings for each book. In my first version of The Ghost on the Stairs, the kids watched some of the filming, but I didn’t use the TV show much. While expanding the novel, I added a chapter where they try out the ghost hunter gadgets, and another where their stepfather interviews people who have claimed to see the ghost. Both these offered opportunities for humor, as only the kids knew whether the gadgets were really working, and whether the interview subjects were telling the truth.
I used the individual settings specific to each book as well. The Riverboat Phantom takes place on a Mississippi steamboat, where action scenes include a fight in the boiler room and a ghost-induced hurricane on the top deck. The Knight in the Shadows starts at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and involves a subway journey to The Cloisters. The MET and The Cloisters are full of interesting elements. A subway is even more intriguing to a kid who's never been on one, but add a ghost to the mix, and you get action and humor.
Tip: Look for ways to use your setting to add complications. What if the weather changed? What if they went somewhere without cell phone reception? What if they had to pass through a bad neighborhood—or sneak through a rich gated community with a guard? If your setting could be Anywhere, USA, charge it up for dramatic value.
Example: Look at the movie Sweet Home Alabama. Would it be the same if the main character only had to go home to New Jersey?
But not every book has to have tombs or cliffs. Even everyday settings such as school or a suburban neighborhood can provide elements for adding drama, humor, or other interest.
In the Haunted books, the "setting" is a traveling ghost hunter TV show, with different specific settings for each book. In my first version of The Ghost on the Stairs, the kids watched some of the filming, but I didn’t use the TV show much. While expanding the novel, I added a chapter where they try out the ghost hunter gadgets, and another where their stepfather interviews people who have claimed to see the ghost. Both these offered opportunities for humor, as only the kids knew whether the gadgets were really working, and whether the interview subjects were telling the truth.
I used the individual settings specific to each book as well. The Riverboat Phantom takes place on a Mississippi steamboat, where action scenes include a fight in the boiler room and a ghost-induced hurricane on the top deck. The Knight in the Shadows starts at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and involves a subway journey to The Cloisters. The MET and The Cloisters are full of interesting elements. A subway is even more intriguing to a kid who's never been on one, but add a ghost to the mix, and you get action and humor.
Tip: Look for ways to use your setting to add complications. What if the weather changed? What if they went somewhere without cell phone reception? What if they had to pass through a bad neighborhood—or sneak through a rich gated community with a guard? If your setting could be Anywhere, USA, charge it up for dramatic value.
Example: Look at the movie Sweet Home Alabama. Would it be the same if the main character only had to go home to New Jersey?
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Janet Fox on Growing As a Writer
I'm doing something different this week, posting an interview with author Janet Fox. She talks about the Vermont College MFA program, and how it helped her grow as a writer.
You were already a published author (Get Organized Without Losing It, Free Spirit Publishing, 2006) when you decided to join the Vermont College MFA program. Why did you feel that additional education was important?
Janet: I’d been attending SCBWI conferences for years and I recognized the value of honing my craft by listening to lectures. About the time that “Get Organized” came out I felt that those conference lectures, while still good, weren’t enough any longer. I wanted more “how-to” knowledge, I wanted to be a better writer, and reading craft books in the isolation of my office didn’t do the trick, either. Kathi Appelt lives near me, and she’s not only a good friend but also a mentor and is on the faculty at VCFA, and she began to talk up the MFA program to me. I think the final push came from my agent, who was wildly enthusiastic when I asked her what she thought about it. And here’s the thing – it’s fabulous. The Vermont program has taken my skill to an entirely new level.
How is that program set up? What appealed most to you?
Janet: It’s a two-year low-residency program. Each January and July for four semesters (five residencies, including the final) you attend a ten-day residency filled with lectures and workshops and readings. During the semesters off campus you are assigned an advisor, different each semester, who guides you through assignments due on a monthly basis. It’s intense and hard work and requires a commitment of time and energy. You must complete a critical thesis and a creative thesis. What appeals to me most of all is what I learn from the lectures, and then apply to my work; but I also value the input of my advisors during the semesters because that direct editing has truly taught me about my own strengths and weaknesses.
Do you think the education you got at Vermont College helped you to write and sell your new historical fiction novel, Faithful (Speak/Penguin Group, 2010)?
Janet: No, I sold Faithful before I began the program. What I do wish is that I’d had more time in the program before Faithful came out! I was editing the manuscript like crazy based on what I was learning in the program at the time, and now see the flaws in that novel very clearly. But I’m trying to apply my new-found knowledge to the Faithful sequel (Forgiven, due out in 2011.) In fact, that manuscript forms the basis of my creative thesis, and I’m so thankful to have the eye of my current advisor, Leda Schubert, because I know this will be a better book for it.
Did the discipline and/or expense help you feel and act more like a professional writer?
Janet: Certainly the discipline helps – but also the fact that the VCFA faculty is stellar and yet approachable. I feel humbled in their presence and honored to be a part of this institution. I take my work seriously because I’m taken seriously by writers who are at the top of their field. VCFA is a terrific place. Expensive, yes. And worth every penny.
Can you share a few important things you learned in the program?
Janet: It’s all about the craft, not about the publication. Commit to hard work. First drafts are ugly, and revision rules. We all have craft flaws; the trick is to discover what you tend to do “wrong” and weed it out. Read like a writer, meaning read to see how great writers handle aspects of writing – dialogue, scene, description, character. Apply what you learn to your own writing. Be prepared to grow as a writer by always learning. Write every day. Write from the heart. Bare your feelings and write from the deepest possible place.
You were already a published author (Get Organized Without Losing It, Free Spirit Publishing, 2006) when you decided to join the Vermont College MFA program. Why did you feel that additional education was important?
Janet: I’d been attending SCBWI conferences for years and I recognized the value of honing my craft by listening to lectures. About the time that “Get Organized” came out I felt that those conference lectures, while still good, weren’t enough any longer. I wanted more “how-to” knowledge, I wanted to be a better writer, and reading craft books in the isolation of my office didn’t do the trick, either. Kathi Appelt lives near me, and she’s not only a good friend but also a mentor and is on the faculty at VCFA, and she began to talk up the MFA program to me. I think the final push came from my agent, who was wildly enthusiastic when I asked her what she thought about it. And here’s the thing – it’s fabulous. The Vermont program has taken my skill to an entirely new level.
How is that program set up? What appealed most to you?
Janet: It’s a two-year low-residency program. Each January and July for four semesters (five residencies, including the final) you attend a ten-day residency filled with lectures and workshops and readings. During the semesters off campus you are assigned an advisor, different each semester, who guides you through assignments due on a monthly basis. It’s intense and hard work and requires a commitment of time and energy. You must complete a critical thesis and a creative thesis. What appeals to me most of all is what I learn from the lectures, and then apply to my work; but I also value the input of my advisors during the semesters because that direct editing has truly taught me about my own strengths and weaknesses.
Do you think the education you got at Vermont College helped you to write and sell your new historical fiction novel, Faithful (Speak/Penguin Group, 2010)?
Janet: No, I sold Faithful before I began the program. What I do wish is that I’d had more time in the program before Faithful came out! I was editing the manuscript like crazy based on what I was learning in the program at the time, and now see the flaws in that novel very clearly. But I’m trying to apply my new-found knowledge to the Faithful sequel (Forgiven, due out in 2011.) In fact, that manuscript forms the basis of my creative thesis, and I’m so thankful to have the eye of my current advisor, Leda Schubert, because I know this will be a better book for it.
Did the discipline and/or expense help you feel and act more like a professional writer?
Janet: Certainly the discipline helps – but also the fact that the VCFA faculty is stellar and yet approachable. I feel humbled in their presence and honored to be a part of this institution. I take my work seriously because I’m taken seriously by writers who are at the top of their field. VCFA is a terrific place. Expensive, yes. And worth every penny.
Can you share a few important things you learned in the program?
Janet: It’s all about the craft, not about the publication. Commit to hard work. First drafts are ugly, and revision rules. We all have craft flaws; the trick is to discover what you tend to do “wrong” and weed it out. Read like a writer, meaning read to see how great writers handle aspects of writing – dialogue, scene, description, character. Apply what you learn to your own writing. Be prepared to grow as a writer by always learning. Write every day. Write from the heart. Bare your feelings and write from the deepest possible place.
Monday, June 14, 2010
More on Cliffhangers
As noted last week, cliffhanger chapter endings drive the story forward. But they can also inspire new dramatic events. If you have to find a way to add a scary or exciting twist at the end of the chapter, the scene automatically becomes more dramatic.
In the Haunted series, I try to keep my chapters to about 1500 words. If I can't find a cliffhanger moment within 1600 words, maybe there isn't as much action as I want. If a chapter goes longer, I split it in two—which forces me to add a new cliffhanger halfway through the chapter.
For example, in Haunted book 4: The Ghost Miner's Treasure (not yet published), I had a chapter that was going on too long. I looked back through it, especially at the 1200 to 1600 word point, to see if I had a moment I could turn into a strong chapter ending. I found this:
There was another guy in the room. He had shaggy dark hair and skin that looked like he spent every day in the sun. He stared at us a moment, with black eyes that kind of gave me a shiver, then looked down at the map spread across his table.
The old guy bustled around, pulling out books and boxes and stacking them on an empty table. I sighed. This looked like it might take awhile. Tania sat down, and I moved up next to her. I jumped back when my elbow seem to hit a wall of cold. I must've gotten too close to the ghost. There really wasn't room for all of us.
"Hey, why don't I go find Mom, while you get started," I said. "She'll worry if she doesn't know where we are."
There's something potentially dramatic there -- a physical encounter with the ghost. But they've already gotten to know the ghost, and it's just a slight brush of the elbow, so it passes in a moment. To build that into a cliffhanger chapter ending, I changed it to this:
When I glanced up, I saw the dark-haired guy staring at us, with black eyes that kind of gave me a shiver. For some reason, he reminded me of the fortune teller, and her words "Bad luck" seemed to echo in my brain.
I guess I took a step back without realizing it. I let out a yelp as I stepped into a wall of cold.
I took a small moment and made it bigger. Because the reader already knows the freezing effects of ghosts, they'll wonder what happened when Jon backed into one. This also allowed me some humor at the start of the next chapter, as Jon knocks into the museum curator. Books go flying, Jon has to somehow explain what happened, and he draws even more attention from the spooky guy.
Tip: To keep the plot action-packed, check your pacing by noting your chapter lengths. If some chapters go on much longer than others (proper length varies by genre and age range), look for places to add action.
In the Haunted series, I try to keep my chapters to about 1500 words. If I can't find a cliffhanger moment within 1600 words, maybe there isn't as much action as I want. If a chapter goes longer, I split it in two—which forces me to add a new cliffhanger halfway through the chapter.
For example, in Haunted book 4: The Ghost Miner's Treasure (not yet published), I had a chapter that was going on too long. I looked back through it, especially at the 1200 to 1600 word point, to see if I had a moment I could turn into a strong chapter ending. I found this:
There was another guy in the room. He had shaggy dark hair and skin that looked like he spent every day in the sun. He stared at us a moment, with black eyes that kind of gave me a shiver, then looked down at the map spread across his table.
The old guy bustled around, pulling out books and boxes and stacking them on an empty table. I sighed. This looked like it might take awhile. Tania sat down, and I moved up next to her. I jumped back when my elbow seem to hit a wall of cold. I must've gotten too close to the ghost. There really wasn't room for all of us.
"Hey, why don't I go find Mom, while you get started," I said. "She'll worry if she doesn't know where we are."
There's something potentially dramatic there -- a physical encounter with the ghost. But they've already gotten to know the ghost, and it's just a slight brush of the elbow, so it passes in a moment. To build that into a cliffhanger chapter ending, I changed it to this:
When I glanced up, I saw the dark-haired guy staring at us, with black eyes that kind of gave me a shiver. For some reason, he reminded me of the fortune teller, and her words "Bad luck" seemed to echo in my brain.
I guess I took a step back without realizing it. I let out a yelp as I stepped into a wall of cold.
I took a small moment and made it bigger. Because the reader already knows the freezing effects of ghosts, they'll wonder what happened when Jon backed into one. This also allowed me some humor at the start of the next chapter, as Jon knocks into the museum curator. Books go flying, Jon has to somehow explain what happened, and he draws even more attention from the spooky guy.
Tip: To keep the plot action-packed, check your pacing by noting your chapter lengths. If some chapters go on much longer than others (proper length varies by genre and age range), look for places to add action.
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