1. Never open a book
with weather.
2. Avoid prologues.
3. Never use a verb other than "said" to carry dialogue.
4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb "said”…he admonished gravely.
5. Keep your exclamation points under control. You are allowed no more than two
or three per 100,000 words of prose.
6. Never use the words "suddenly" or "all hell broke
loose."
7. Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.
8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.
9. Don't go into great detail describing places and things.
10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.
My most important rule is one that sums up the 10.
My current project is a novel called The Orange and the Black. Three middle-aged men lose their jobs in
the recession—jobs that are unlikely to come back—and they are living off the
income of their wives.
They escape to the boredom and depression of
unemployment by making good on a prank they planned as teenagers but never
carried out, stealing and ransoming a local monument—a three-ton sculpture. Of
course, it turns into something much bigger.
One of the stumbling blocks I have encountered is how they
move this monument. Remember, it weights three tons. For various reasons that
become evident in the plot, they choose a technology that is not new, but they
apply it in an innovative way. My dilemma, and I have talked with some
physicists and chemists about this, is that there are limitations to the technology
that might compromise its use for this particular purpose.
As one college professor of physics told me, “It will work
in theory, but the reality is that you have some issues.”
I am enamored with the idea, but I could not figure how to
get around the problems.
Then this last weekend I went to the UCLA Writers Faire. The
event was a series of panel discussions of the various aspects of writing. In
part it was a sales pitch for the UCLA Extension Program for Writers, but I
still found it useful (and admission was free). One of the panel members of a
discussion entitled Truth and Imagination
was Michael
Buckley, a writer and faculty member who recently authored a collection of
short stories called Miniature
Men (click here
for a reading by Buckley). Among other things Buckley writes science fiction,
and he is also referred to as a futurist. He made a comment during the
discussion about giving credence to lies in your writing. I realized this man
had the answer to my dilemma.
After the lecture I posed my question to him. Without going
into detail, I explained the technology problem using the words of the college
physics professor: “It will work in theory, but the reality is that you have
some issues.”
Buckley’s answer was concise and direct, and I paraphrase: “If
there is scientific truth behind what your characters are doing, use the truth
to conceal the lie.”
This is the strategy I have been following, but I’ve been
blind. Buckley crystalized it. If I incorporate enough scientific fact, the
reader will overlook the lie. He might even overlook the lie if he is a
physicist and knows better.
I need to speak to some experts, including a few electrical
engineers, but now I know how to move that three-ton sculpture.
This weekend I am attending the UCLA Writers Faire,
a one-day writer’s conference in West Los Angeles. This one is free, and free
is good. As a writer you should take every chance to attend these events. I’ve
been to conferences, book festivals, panel discussions and anything else I can
find.
Sooner or later, though, you will graduate to a full-blown
writers conference. These are multi-day events, usually held in a resort
location (although if you take it seriously you won’t be doing much resorting).
These events can be expensive. The conference fee alone starts at around $500,
and they go up from there.
Having attended a few writers conferences, here are some
tips for saving money. After all, you are a writer, and by definition, you are
poor.
Early Registration—Most
conferences have early registration discounts. You save as much as 15% off the
fee. Determine your conference ahead of time and sign up early.
Advance Reader
Submissions—Many of the larger conferences offer these opportunities. For a
fee you can submit five to ten pages of a manuscript, along with your synopsis
and query letter, to a seasoned writer, editor or perhaps an agent, for their
professional opinion. I made a good connection with an agent at the last
conference I attended. At $40 or $50, though, this adds up. I saw people who
signed up for as many as five advance reader submissions. That’s a little over
the top. Keep it to two, maybe three. You will find after a while they everyone
is making similar comments. You are paying for the same information over and
over.
Pass on the Host Hotel—Most
conferences are held at hotels and the organizers encourage you to get your
room there. There are advantages. You are never far from the action, and there
is a lot of action. This comes at a cost, though. The host hotel is never
cheap. It can easily cost double the conference fee. At a recent conference I
was able to get a room at another hotel for half the host hotel rate. It wasn’t
as nice, but if you take these conferences seriously, they can turn into a
string of 15-hour days. Why pay $200 a night for someplace where you shower,
shave and sleep for six hours if you are lucky?
Save More on Lodgings—At
the aforementioned writers conference I was feeling pretty smug because I got
my room at $80 a night. Then I was talking to a woman who was staying in a
bed-and-breakfast, probably nicer than my place, or $60 a night. It pays to
shop.
Watch Food Expenses—Lunch
at the host hotel can run you $15 to $20 with the tip. Relaxing by the hotel
pool with a bag of PBJ sandwiches, an apple and a hard-boiled egg is not as
sexy, but lots cheaper. Besides, if you take this conference seriously, you are
there early and you stay late for the evening pirate critique sessions. You
will need the nap in the chaise lounge. Use the alarm function on your cell
phone to wake you up.
Conferences provide great opportunities for professional development
and networking, but they are not cheap. These tips will help you keep costs
under control. There are other things you can do to economize at writers
conferences. Check out this blog once in a while for additional tips.
That is part of the beauty of
all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that
you're not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.
Show me a hero, and I'll
write you a tragedy.
I want to know you moved and
breathed in the same world with me.
Can’t repeat the past?…Why of
course you can!
“You'll find another.”
God! Banish the
thought. Why don't you tell me that 'if the girl had been worth having she'd
have waited for you'? No, sir, the girl really worth having won't wait for
anybody.
The plot is
simple. Two high school buddies from Southern California, Ben and Chon, make a
fortune growing some primo marijuana. A ruthless
drug cartel invites them to become partners. This is not the kind of partnership offer you
turn down unless you want to permanently reside in a shallow grave in the
desert, minus your head, which is being used to scare the crap out of the next
guys.
Oliver Stone
turned this into a movie, which for the most part was true to the book. What I
really liked about Winslow’s novel, however, was his ability to tell a lot of
the narrative in the unique slang of the Southern California beach community.
Consider
this dialog from O (short for Ophelia) the stoned out beach bunny who is the
love interest of the two heroes (yes, they share her—vintage Southern California).
O is discussing how her mother gave birth to her (O’s refers to her mother as Paqu—an acronym for Passive-Aggressive Queen of the Universe):
“Did your mother hate you? Chon asked her
this one time.
“She didn’t hate me,” O answered. “She hated
having me because she got all fat and stuff—which for Paqu was like five LBS.”
Then a few
lines later:
--the extra Lincoln wasn’t going to sit well
or long on her hips. Paqu got back to the three-million dollar shack on Emerald
Bay, strapped little Ophelia into one of those baby packs, and hit the
treadmill.
What I like
is that Winslow uses the slang in context so that the reader can easily figure
it out. When I first read this I immediately understood that Lincoln referred
to the extra five pounds Pagu gained when she was pregnant.
I also
admire Winslow’s use of similes. My favorite is O’s description of Chon (who is
an ex-Navy SEAL and handles the enforcement part of the marijuana business):
Anyway, Chon’s thin enough to be a junkie,
all tall, angular, muscled—looks like something put together from junkyard
metal.
That
description gives you a good idea of what Chon is like at several different
levels.
This is the
turn of phrase that I envy—but I’m working on it.
Chalk up
another change that Amazon has affected in the publishing industry. The Los
Angeles Times reports that Jeff Kinney—of Wimpy Kid fame—started his book tour
for his eighth novel in the series this
last week. This despite Diary
of a Wimpy Kid: Hard Luck doesn’t hit the bookshelves until November 5.
Writers and
publishing houses are finding out that series novels where readers are well
acquainted with the character can garner lots of advance sales. Readers know
and love the heroes and they are willing to take a few bucks on the credit card
for the advance purchase. Amazon quite often takes a couple of bucks off these
advance price tag as an added incentive to make the purchase. (This could also
be another element of Amazon’s alleged plot to price indy bookstores out of the
market.)
An extreme
example of advance sales was The Inferno by Dan Brown. Pre-publication
purchases drove
the novel into Amazon’s top ten four months before the physical book became
available.
This is nothing new. It's been possible for a long time to pre-purchase booksthrough Amazon and even bookstores. We're seeing it push to a higher level, though, and it seems to be working well.
Also to be
noted by would-be authors who are relishing the idea of their first book tour: according to the L.A. Times article, Kinney’s tour covers 150 stops in 50 cities in 90 days. That’s means many two-stop and sometimes three-stop days, lots of hotels and restaurant food—and
they wonder why so many authors drink.
If you want to make a small fortune in
publishing, start with a large fortune—often quoted by executives in the industry
Yesterday’s
announcement that Amazon founder Jeff Bezos agreed to purchase the Washington Post
has again raised in my mind the conflicted feelings I have about Amazon and the
whole future of the traditional printed word, cynically known as dead-tree
publishing.
A dear friend
of mine who was recently furloughed from the publishing industry (translation: she
was laid off) often observes how Barnes & Noble and Borders came in and
edged out the independent book stores.
So much so that I live 35 miles from Los Angeles and the nearest
independent bookstore is 17 miles from me. Then Amazon came in, along with the
Kindle, and edged out Borders, and pretty soon Barnes & Noble will go the
same way.
Bezos and a
few wannabes are the only game left in town and you can’t very well browse
through the shelves on your computer and uncover some jewel of a read. The only
place you can do that is a used book store, and we all know what that means—no one
gets a royalty on the sale.
Now enter
Amazon into the newspaper business. Everyone can agree that the current
newspaper model is broken beyond repair. I am a baby boomer, the last
generation that wakes up in the morning and goes outside to get the morning
newspaper. I page through it over a cup of coffee. When I visit my adult
children, they don’t even take the newspaper. They get their news from the
internet. Forget the comics, the obits, local business news. If it doesn’t make
Twitter or Facebook, it is lost.
The
newspapers are getting skinnier and skinnier. As a marketer, I seldom recommend
them to my clients. Nobody reads the paper.
So now Bezos
is in the newspaper business and if anyone can fix this model, or make it
better, he is the man.
But at what
cost?
The weeping
liberal in me wants to say that it’s not fair. These little bookstores should
be allowed to limp along, serving as dust collectors. The same for the
newspapers. We should all be out their buying their product and supporting
dying industries.
The
capitalist in me takes the Darwinian position—survival of the fittest. Adapt or
die. In the turmoil of the book market, it was reported this year that independent
bookstores are making a comeback. The owners are smarter and more innovative. Adapt
or die. They are arranging special events, author signings, computerizing their
inventory, embracing electronic publishing and getting attractions like the
Expresso.
Bezos will
likely come up with a better model, but it will change everything in that
industry, too. For the consumer it will be something they want, or it won’t
survive. For reporters and designers and ad salespeople, it will be something
to which they have to adapt. That’s the way it works. Darwin taught us that.
Given the
technology and the economics, it was inescapable. The publishing industry—both books
and newspapers--was heading for a change. If not Bezos and Amazon, then someone
else. Say what you will about him, but I have a feeling Bezos is the best man
to do it.
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