Wednesday, October 20, 2010

The Funny Thing About Being Funny

After all the praise I gave the place, Barns and Noble goes and interrupts my Mojo.  What did they do?  They took away all my outlets!  Screwed nice little safety plates over the lot of them.  So now I’ve been forced to either buy a second battery for my laptop (which my fiancé is skeptical will ever get charged), or find a new place to get in the groove. 
I’ve spent some time at the library, but it’s just not the same…

Yesterday I found my groove in a remarkable place: my house.  Wow, yes, I wrote from home.

4,000 words, to be not-exactly exact (plus a couple dozen or so).  That’s an eye-popping amount for me.

However, it may or may not have been truly productive, as I was taking a foray into comedic sci-fi.  It’s my second attempt.  The first humorous short story I wrote ended up failing miserably because, frankly, it was far too serious to be funny.  This one I’m trying to keep light and ridiculous.  We’ll see how it’s received.

I think comedy is extremely challenging.  So much of it is flow and timing, which is hard to get right in prose.  In a regular story, it usually isn’t such a big deal if the reader doesn’t read a line (or group of lines) exactly as you intended it to be read.  They may naturally pause in a different place, or think the emphasis lies on a different word.  What sounds one way to you may sound totally different to them, but it doesn’t create real problems.  In comedy it does.  What’s funny to the author may be stupid to the reader, and not just because of the content, but because of how it flows.

I’m trying to get this first draft edited so that my first readers can have a shot at it tonight.  Because I feel like I’m on shaky ground with this genre I seem to be able to separate myself from it more easily.  Because I’m not as confident with it, I’m more willing to chop and splice things to get them right.  If the readers tell me something’s not funny, out it’ll go!  I’m not going to coddle the pages and say, “no, not my precious words!” like I sometimes do…  Actually, I’m pretty good at acknowledging when a reader is right about something, but I usually put up a big fight before conceding.  Not this time.  If it’s bad, it’s bad, no argument from me.

Of course, there’s plenty in it I’ll be sad to see go if they don’t find it funny.  The bigger jokes I’ll probably try and rewrite to get the timing down.

Of course, there’s always the possibility of squid-in-the-mouth.  I think most newbie attempts at comedy fall into this category.  They venture beyond strange into un-laughably grotesque and un-relatable.    

I think there’s a pretty big consumer market for comedy out there, but so few people to fill it because it really is difficult.  That’s why it’s sad that professionals always apologize when they give awards to works of comedy, as though by virtue of what it is it should be unworthy of high-praise.  Hey, I think if it was something everybody could do there would be a lot more of it out there.  Those who can pull it off deserve to be acknowledged.

So, anyway, that’s my newest writing exercise.  Have you ventured into any new territory lately?

~Marina

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Writers of the Future Q2 Results!

Nope, didn’t win.  Yeah, bummer, but I’m not super disappointed, to tell you the truth.  Well, I’m disappointed, but I don’t feel bad about it. 

From the beginning of my wait I refused to let myself fantasize about winning.  That kept me pretty positive.  When I got the call from Joni telling me I hadn’t won, I focused on the good things she had to tell me.  Two of the judges really liked it and had good things to say to her about it.  Awesome.  The contest would also like to hold onto it for possible inclusion in the anthology, which is definitely a plus. 

So, I’m not upset.  Actually, my fiancé was way more upset by the news than I was.  I had to remind him that KD Wentworth said it was the toughest quarter to date, and I was a contributor to that. 

You know how people at award shows always say, “It was an honor just to be nominated,” after they lose and they’ve got this tone in their voice that says, “Screw this award”? 

Well, it is an honor just to be nominated, and I really mean it.  There’s no way that I could have expected to come that close to winning in the short amount of time I’d been writing with a career in mind.

I realized about two weeks ago that my Q2 finalist was only the second short story I’d ever written for myself (not for school).  I thought some more and realized it was only the 7th I’d written in my entire life, dating way back to that first one in 4th grade. 

It was my first attempt at writing a short story after I’d made the commitment to a writing career (My Q1 entry was something I’d written four years previous).  Since I’d spent the first 6 months of this new career trying to spew out a novel, the short story attempt ended in a novelette, but still. 

I’d never tackled a story that spanned millennia before.  And I’d never written a story with 7 distinct POVs before.  And I’d never attempted to write anything in the realm of hard science before.

So, my Q2 entry was largely experimental.  I finished it feeling it had been an exploratory piece.  I felt it was a good story, but not something I’d built on a tried and tested foundation.

It was the most agreeable thing I’ve ever written.  It’s 13,000 words and I wrote it in three consecutive days.  Sure, for some people that’s no big deal, but up ‘til that point I’d been lucky to get in 1,000 words a day.

Having it picked by KD was a proud moment for me, a real accomplishment in itself.  Even if I didn’t win, someone liked it.  A professional in the field liked it, and that means the world to me.

And now I’ve been told that two other judges liked it.  So I’ve got three stamps of approval.  It means I started off down the trail in the right direction.  If I keep putting one foot in front of the other I’ll reach the goal someday.

In summary, I didn’t win, but I’m still on top of the world :)

Congrats to the winners!  Especially regular WotF forum frequenter, Patty Jansen, who won first place :)

~Marina

Thursday, October 7, 2010

That Magic Ten Percent

Or five percent, or twelve, or whatever arbitrary percentage you’d like. 

What magic percentage am I talking about?  It’s that thing, you know, “It.”

There’s a hot-button word that, in the writing community, gets a similar hair-raising, fervent reaction that the word “luck” does. 

Talent.

Mention it and someone automatically has an opinion--not usually about the context it was used in, but about the existence or non existence of this thing we mean when we say “talent.”

Usually when talent is mentioned two major factions (on message boards, blogs, etc.) arise:  There are those that believe you don’t get anywhere unless you’ve got this undefined thing called talent, and those who believe talent is a mental roadblock to success and nothing more.

I’ve seen professional writers say, “No one ever told me I was good at this when I was young, and look at me today, I’m making my living at it, therefore talent doesn’t exist.”

I’ve also seen professionals say, “You’ve either got it or you don’t.”

And, of course, newbies just pick whichever opinion appeals to them and then parrot it back to the masses.

I simultaneously agree and disagree with both camps.

When talking about talent, no one ever tries to define what they’re arguing about.  Talent seems to be an untouchable, mystical concept.  Some attempt to give it a fuzzy outline by calling it the ever more ambiguous “it-factor” and the like, but no real meat is ever put on this skeletal definition.  This is a problem.

Then they apply the concept to the mechanical act of writing; the physical placing of words on a page.  This is also a problem.

I believe talent has about as much to do with the physical act of writing as it has to do with a baby walking or a bird flying: none. 

Anyone willing to learn can be taught to communicate, and to do it well.  Some have to work harder at it than others, but that has more to do with aptitude than talent--no, the two aren’t synonyms in my book.  Your level of aptitude can change over time.  Your level of talent cannot.

So, how do I define talent?

Well, first, let’s get out of our Writer Heads.  Things always get clouded when you’re too close to the subject. 

Let’s pretend we’re all taking art 101, Basic Sketching Techniques.  Sure, some students show more initial aptitude than others, but the professor can show each of us over time how to see the lighting in a scene separate from the objects, and how to create texture, and how to compose a balanced picture.

Sketch artists are taught to see the world around them and use technique to reproduce it.  Just like a writer is taught how to put words to paper in a compelling order that makes a complete story.

Our art professor can teach us how to see the world in front of us.  What s/he can’t teach us is how to see the worlds that aren’t in front of us.

No one can teach you imagination.  And that’s where talent comes into play.

Yes, it can be honed and exercised, but it’s not a technique someone can give you.  They can teach you rhythm, effective ways to use different POVs, plotting, thematic enhancement, punctuation, why not to use “ly” words every chance you get…

But they can’t teach creativity.  Either you have a uniquely creative mind, or you don’t.

That being said, the most imaginative people are not automatically moved to the head of the to-be-published line.

Why?

Because hard work and practice matter!

I don’t care if you’ve got the most creative mind on the planet, if you don’t apply yourself and learn the nuts-and-bolts of properly communicating your ideas, you’re not going to make it anywhere.

And that’s why even people without super-duper-spanking-awesome imaginations have a real shot at seeing their writing dreams come true too.  It’s all in the execution.

Talent is like the frosting on the cake: It’s a sweet thing to have, but without a solid foundation, its just fluff.  In the end, readers need meat and potatoes to sustain themselves--great writing, great mechanics, great composition.

Talent certainly doesn’t make you “the chosen one,” but if you’ve got a strong work ethic and a great imagination, you might just have the edge it takes to rise above the rest.

So, it’s not really magic, and it’s not really a percent.  It’s more like a piece of a probability equation.  Are you more likely to get published if you’re “talented?”  Well, that depends on if you have the real “it-factor.”  And I think you know what that is.

~Marina

P.S. Totally my opinion, you're welcome to state yours too!

Number of rejections, goal of 100: 6

Friday, September 24, 2010

Bending the Stats

I’m a lurker.  I frequent several forums nowadays, but only post at WotF.  And I’ve noticed an odd trend.

Once in a while a newbie shows up and asks others what their rejection-to-sale ratio is.  They’re looking to see if they’re on track.  They’re looking for averages to compare themselves too.

But the replies end up giving them erroneous statistics. 

Firstly, there’s not much one can gauge from other people’s numbers.  Every writer is different (how many times have you seen that statement?).  Some are better at gauging which market their stories are fit for, some have higher skill sets than others, some blossom early, others take decades to get anywhere.  Just because Author A sold the second short story they ever wrote does not at all make it the norm.  So that newbie probably shouldn’t be comparing themselves to others-- especially others they know nothing about.  If these people work completely differently than you, and have an entirely different skill set, how does their experience apply to you?

Secondly, some of the repliers “bend the stats” (not all, of course).  There are a number of “Oh, I sold my first story on the fourth try out” or “most of my sold stories I never got any rejections on.”  Wow, looks like we’ve got super-talented people on our hands, no?  Maybe that newbie should feel bad about their 20 rejection slips.

Except we’re not getting the whole story here.

Luckily there’s always someone who replies to the thread to point this out, so I can stay in lurker mode. 

Some of these quick-sellers have links to their sales lists that you can visit.  Upon investigation it’s easy to discover why they’ve got such high sales-to-rejects ratios.  They’re selling to non-paying or token markets with acceptance rates of around 80% (Duotrope percentages).

Now, I don’t begrudge people who sub to these markets.  They’re not for me-- for me it seems the only reward for publishing in a non-paying market is an ego-stroke, as I’m not being fiscally compensated and the “publication credit” isn’t worth the cover letter it might be printed on.  And I don’t really need my ego stroked today.  But, non-paying and token markets are more likely to give feed-back if they reject you, which can be very useful to newbies.

But the point is, if the newbie who started the thread at the forum sees these high acceptance ratios, and they’ve got 6 rejections from Asimov’s and 6 from Analog and 8 from Fantasy and Science Fiction, they might say to themselves “hmm, I must not be any good, because all of these people sold straight away, and I can’t.” 

They might be discouraged by faulty stats, and that’s just not fair. 

In fact, I’d say that a higher number of rejections indicates a more ambitious writer, rather than a poor writer. 

Who knows, the newbie might be a much better writer than aforementioned “Author A,”  but because they’re sending manuscripts to a market that’s got a less than 2% acceptance rate and Author A is sending to a market that’s 80%, it looks like Author A is more successful.  Of course, Author A might just be short-changing themself, and really they could be published in much better markets if they were willing to endure a few more rejections. 

The point is, these stats need qualifiers.  Or the initial question needs a qualifier.  Perhaps asking “What is your sale-to-rejection ratio in pro-paying markets” might be a better way to start off.  But the newbies don’t know that.  They’re just learning. 

And it falls to the people who have been at this for a while not to lead them astray.

So, the moral is full disclosure.  Any sales are awesome, be proud, but be specific.  Bending the stats doesn’t help anyone.

Example of such a thread:


Example of Newbies that need guidance, not led astray:


~Marina

P.S.  Alternate viewpoints always welcome.

P.P.S.  I took Gwendolyn Clare’s advice and sent some more stories out, in lieu of waiting until I hear about WotF Q2.  Thanks for the kick in the pants, girl!

Rejections with goal of 100: 5


Wednesday, September 15, 2010

The Talking Head Said...

Anonymous said...
Butt kissers advance, females more so than males, and getting published has more to do with luck than with skill. I've been out and about for fifteen years, have great credits, and yet not one agent I sub to knows my name. Fifteen freaking years, and I'm nowhere. There are many authors in my boat. However, I'm self-publishing because I can, and will gain recognition, an audience, make money without cost to me, building my platform reguardless. I'm good. Better than most. I may never get published the old way, but I can sure make my bones with readers the new way. It is Reader's Choice, with the world at our feet. Published authors know this and are indeed joining our ranks. Say what you will, but nothing I said is false. You cannot prove me wrong. Standard publishing is a joke. A bad joke.
9/15/2010 9:32 PM
So, this is a reply to the Writers Beware blog.  The original post was an off-spin post related to the idea that publishing is not a crapshoot; specifically, it related to the lack of stats on rejections and publishing.
No, I didn’t reply to this person, as much as I wanted to.  There’s no sense in arguing with someone who has such strong, warped ideas about the world, but doesn’t want to take responsibility for those ideas by associating their name with the statements.
Clearly they knew there was something wrong with the comments, or else they wouldn’t have had a problem claiming them.
And they’re right to leave the reply anonymous.  If I knew this person’s name I’d never want to pick up their work.  They’d have turned me off to their name for life.  And they probably aren’t going to get anywhere with those attitudes, because I can’t see people wanting to work with someone who is clearly arrogant and unwilling to learn what it takes to reach the success they want.
And no, I don’t mean they should learn to butt-kiss.
I’d like to point out that there’s no reason a woman’s butt-kissing should be more successful than a man’s.
Sexist comments aside, I have a big issue with people who don’t take responsibility for their own lives, in any aspect.  Blaming others is unproductive.  It doesn’t make people sympathetic towards your plight.  And it suggests you aren’t willing to acknowledge your faults in order to improve.
And if someone doesn’t improve, it’s not a mystery as to why they haven’t succeeded in 15 years of trying.
This Anon made one statement that’s absolutely true: you can’t prove them wrong.  Irrational is as irrational does.  There are no stats on butt-kissing, and if I don’t know their name I can’t judge the quality of their work.
I’m beginning to think their comments were the bad joke, not ‘standard publishing.’
~Marina

Monday, September 13, 2010

How to Channel your Writing Mojo

Well, this is how I get into the groove, anyway. I find the title of John Scalzi’s blog-become-book, You’re Not Fooling Anyone When You Take Your Laptop to a Coffee Shop, greatly amusing, because I’m one of those weirdoes who sits in a coffee shop and writes. And believe me, my intent is not to fool, it’s to work.


I have a horrible time trying to work at home. There are tons of distractions. I have one room in the house that’s really mine (not shared with my fiancé), and that’s our funky sun-room that I’ve turned into my “office” (or rather, a studio for painting and drawing and sewing and jewelry making and, supposedly, writing). But I don’t just write there, and that’s the problem. I do tons of things in that room. And I always feel like I should be doing the dishes, or paying the bills, or, you know, watching TV when I’m at home. Home, for me, is not compatible with Marina-in-work-mode.

Second reason why I have a hard time focusing at home: I’ve trained myself that the smell and taste of coffee equal work. I don't make coffee at home, out of respect for Alex (aforementioned fiancé). He cannot stand the smell of coffee, and the taste literally makes him gag. So I don’t even make instant coffee at home to avoid stinking up the house.

So, my solution to my short at-home attention span and coffee-free environment was to find a place outside of the house to use as a workspace.

And I already had one ready-made.

Every time I go into Barns and Noble I feel like writing. It’s been that way since I can remember. Being surrounded by books makes me want to put pen to paper (or fingers to keys). So, when I began looking for a place to work, I had an easy choice right there. If I always feel like working in B&N, why shouldn’t I work in B&N?

But I spend at least the time it takes my laptop battery to run out (about 2 hours) in the coffee shop/café portion of the store. Because, A, I can get my coffee there, and B, there are tables there on which to place my laptop.

I venture to the back of the actual bookstore whenever I have need of a plug (there aren’t any in the café). In fact, most of my Q2 finalist entry was written with me cross-legged on the floor, staring at baby-name books, while trying to use my own thoughts to drown out the sounds of little children crashing toy trains together on the other side of the shelf (until one of the booksellers was nice enough to bring me a chair… he couldn’t do much about the kids). But, of course, each day I began in the coffee shop.

I’ve been going regularly to B&N for about a year now. People there know my name, they ask me why I don’t work there, they tease me about getting a plaque for the table I sit at everyday. But, what’s more, they ask me about my writing. So, mentally, I make myself accountable to those queries. They want to know about my progress, so I tell them. Perhaps they are just being polite to a frequent customer--but the fact that one of the booksellers (who also writes) likes to sit with me a few minutes and discuss books now and again suggests otherwise.

I enjoy the atmosphere there. I enjoy the people, both the employees and the other customers (though I only people-watch the patrons).

So, that’s how I channel my Mojo. I’m a coffee shop writer, and I really do write.

How do you Mojo?

~Marina

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Writing Goals

I’ve heard that presenting your writing goals publically helps you stick to your plan. So, here are my goals.


As of now, I only really have two. The first I’ve already stated: 100 rejections. This is my way of turning something perceived as negative into a positive. I’m working towards the goal of 100 with the belief that by the time I reach that goal I will have achieved my first professional publication.

Goal number two: This one’s a daily goal. I aim to write 2,000 words a week day. I know I can achieve this, I’ve written more than twice that on days I am struck with pure, constant creative inspiration. However, right now I’m probably averaging 500 to 1,000 words a day and only about once a week hitting my goal word count. Hopefully posting this will help me to kick my butt in gear.

I’ve hit a slow spot in my submissions because of my WotF Q2 limbo. I haven’t sent anything out since learning of my position because I want to be sure I put the right credential on my cover letters (did I only earn a finalist credit, or do I get to mention a win?). So I feel a bit delinquent, to tell you the truth. I can’t reach 100 rejections if I don’t send anything out!

If you’re so inclined, tell me about your goals. I’d like to know what they are. I’ve seen that some people give themselves word quotas for the year, which is pretty nifty.

And if you want to tell me about a goal, it doesn’t even have to be a writing goal :)

~Marina