Editing Tip: Give Metaphors a Chance

Tags

concrete details, creative writing, description, editing advice, figurative language, metaphor, simile, strong images, writing advice

 

Writers utilize figurative language because it helps us express abstract ideas in an effective manner. Typically, this tool triggers familiarity and emotions. It attracts attention, arouses action, and crafts concrete details.

One of the easiest forms of figurative language is he simile and metaphor—since they’re siblings after all.

I’m a fan of the simile. Let me tell you, like and as litter my page. It’s fun to create comparisons. Unfortunately, too many of those in a small space are really obvious. That distracts from the original intent of using figurative language to begin with.

That’s why I say to give metaphors a chance.

Besides, they provide stronger connections than similes do. I’ve actually been told their akin to lies, thus implying the strength of using them.

I could prattle on for a long time trying to explain why they’re more effective; therefore, I’m just going to show you.

Heh, showing verses telling, right?

Simile: Her lips were as sweet as candy.

Metaphor: Her lips were candy.

Simile: Metal twisted like a ribbon.

Metaphor: Ribbons of metal twisted.

Simile: She sparkled like a diamond.

Metaphor: She sparkled diamond bright.

On a small scale, these are easy transformations. Others, if implementing some of my other writing/editing tips—liking nixing to-be verbs—these can extend to eliminate the need for an example, which is what similes offer us.

 

Let’s expand.

Simile: He had a heart like stone.

Metaphor: When I reached out to touch his heart, my nails scraped and broke, leaving only a dirty residue on my fingertips.

Simile: I am as fast as a cheetah.

Metaphor: My paws thunder against the ground, spraying grass behind my tail as I race for my prey–the finish line.

Simile: He eats like a pig.

Metaphor: Slop gushed from the corners of his mouth, leaving a trail down his hairy chin before pooling on his belly. Snout snuffling as more slop slurped in: gushing, trailing, pooling.

With a little more space, these become strong images that fog the line between figurative language and a simple description. These are the kinds of metaphors that deserve a little more consideration.

They can generate props, create reminders, weave larger threads together, and extract a reaction from the audience that is otherwise untappable.

In all, similes and metaphors are both useful. But when like or as litter you page, give metaphor a chance.

Editing Advice: Show Verses Tell

Tags

editing advice, editing tips, show don't tell, show vs tell, step-by-step telling, telling words, The Writing Process, Transmundane Press, writing advice, writing tips

Oh, the old, repetitive adage we all hear through the entirety of our writing careers.

I’m guilty of this, saying show me, don’t tell me. Show me. Don’t tell me.

Image (c) Matthew Loffhagen

So, how do we do this?

First, we have what I deem simply as telling words. They’re thus: feel, felt, saw, looked, smelled, thought, wondered, found, touched, knew, and noticed. 99.99% of the time, these indicate telling.

Here are a few examples of them in action:

She wondered if he liked the color blue. / Would he like this in blue? Does he like blue?

 He saw the forest looming in the distance. / The forest loomed in the distance.

 I felt disgusted at the sight. / The bloated, dead deer twisted my gut with nausea.

Essentially, we’re trying to put the reader into the experience rather than telling them about it. This often creates first person/close third conditions—the most popular forms of storytelling, but even if a narrator is providing the reader with a story, they can draw the reader in with the same techniques as distant third and omniscient.

Now, other forms of telling are a bit harder to identify. However, we need to keep in mind that readers are smart, so when we show the character within the world, we don’t need to explain it to our readers.

For example, Silvia’s palms grew sweaty every time John got close. Her attraction to him made her nervous.

Note how her sweaty palms and his proximity impliesher attraction to him, and given the context of a story or setting and internal dialogue, we don’t need to hold up a sign and scream, “Hey, did you get it?”

I do want to mention that telling has its purpose, we need it to get through the boring parts of the story, to get us along to the exciting scenes.

For instance, we don’t want to describe the wake up, morning routine, and drive to work before we get to the stack of paperwork piled on our poor character’s plate and her impending breakdown from it. Spending time on this type of action would need a function, like creating internal turmoil, but it certainly shouldn’t last too long.

Instead, jump into that scene and her breakdown and tell while you show, because I’m sure she’ll reflect on how she dreaded every minute of her prep to get there in scene.

For instance, if this breakdown comes at the beginning of a story, the telling would come in her thoughts:

I knew it. Another damn stack of paperwork. The impending doom ticked with every second from the moment my alarm went off to finishing breakfast, from brushing my teeth to the stop-and-go on the highway to get here. And I knew it when that musty blast of AC clogged my nose as I pushed my way into the building.

This is telling, yes, because we don’t walk through every step with the character, but imagine if this took, let’s say, two to seven pages. (I’ve seen longer.) It would be really hard to keep the tension and interest of the reader. I deem this step-by-step telling.

Let’s take a brief peek at what this looks like:

I got up at six a.m. when my alarm went off, groaning about my stupid desk job. The floor was cold under my feet as I put each on the carpet-less floor. Tugging my nightie around myself, I shuffled to the closet to get my robe and rubbed my arms until some warmth returned. I walked to the bathroom to pee before I made breakfast.

I pulled the pan from the bottom, right cupboard and the butter from the fridge door…

And is this growing tedious yet? Are you asking, so what? What’s the point? Where’s the story?

But it’s showing. Full of details and images and actions, but this is the boring stuff, the stuff we can leave implied or simplified. Need a character to go upstairs? Don’t show him taking them, just show that he moved (on the second floor…in his bedroom…on the balcony…), and the reader will know that he must have gone up those stairs.

 

Try it out in your current WIP and share the changes below. I’d love to see what you come up with.

 

 

Editing Advice: Over Describing

Tags

character details, character development, interacting with scene, narrative telling, over describing, show don't tell, step-by-step action, The Writing Process, writing props, writing tips

Yes, I’m treading into dreaded territory again. Our favorite axiom as writers: show, don’t tell.

Well, I hate to make it more complicated, but sometimes, showing too much becomes telling.

I could show this to you in a lot of ways, but let’s hone in on one: dropping too many details all at once.

Now, it’s easy to admit that I have issues with scene development. I’m not a fan of dumping all of the spatial information right up front unless it directly connects with the tension. Instead, I like to suggest filtering details through a scene so that the characters can interact with what’s around them rather than being told what’s where.

This is part of stylistic preference, and I don’t want to tell anyone that theirs is wrong. It’s just the way I prefer to both write and interact with the story as a reader.

But let me delve even deeper to one of my giant pet peeves—something that affects the trifecta of writer, reader, and editor. I’m serious; I skim past this stuff when it’s in a book, and I hate the waste of words.

That’s the uber-detailed depiction of a character. Eye color, hair color, skin color, height, weight, clothes and the way they fit, shoes, nail color, their half-hearted smile and cupid lips, the button nose…are you getting sick of me listing details yet? I’m sure sick of it.

My feelings aside, I’ve read some interesting research and heard theories from countless writing professors that say the same thing. Too many details like this all at once creates a blank spot in our memories for the character because we can’t remember them all. They get jumbled together with all of the other characters and their giant lists of features.

The best way to circumvent this is to pick and choose which details set the character apart from the others.

A character with rainbow eyes? Sure, mention those. That’s not typical.

A scar on their lip. Go for it.

Are they always flipping their hair from their eyes to no avail?

Got a ring on their finger that they turn when they’re anxious or nervous?

Their height make them loom over everyone?

Always tugging at the cuffs on their shirt?

See how these create images, props as they were, to identify a character without the whole shebang? Pair these with their distinct attitude as described by their dialect and general actions, and this is an excellent way to develop character without relying on over description. But be sure to use them with purpose.

Besides, readers are smart and fill in a lot of the blanks themselves. The way I imagine Boden isn’t the same as the way every reader I’ve come in contact with does. And you know what, I’m okay with that. Their version involves them in my world. I’m honored they want to spend time there.

My last note, over description can happen in action as well. Something I often refer to as step-by-step action. The needless description of every movement a character makes to be sure we see it exactly as the writer does. Let’s just say, it becomes telling real quick.

Let me know if you want a full review of this in a future post. I’m sure I can go on about it for a while.

Got a way you love to identify your characters? Share them in the comments below!

Editing Advice: Do Verses Don’t Do

Tags

active characters, breaking rules, character depth, dialogue, editing advice, internal reflection, show verses tell, Transmundane Press, writing advice, writing rules

Oh my, yes, that title does make one pucker, doesn’t it?

Well, it’s not quite what you think. I’m not here to provide a long list of things you should or should not be doing. Instead, I want to talk about making characters act (do) rather than telling the reader what they didn’t do. See? Super simple.

Dialogue, or a lack thereof, is typically where I find this problem creeping up, often to indicate silence. Like so:

“I’m pregnant,” she said.

He said nothing.

Or He didn’t reply.

This is telling because if we don’t see him say anything, we know he didn’t say anything. This is a wonderful opportunity to create character and drop a detail, which I have a habit of referencing. In case you didn’t notice, it’s one of my favorite pieces of advice.

Let’s revise:

“I’m pregnant,” I said.

Blank shock widened his eyes before his brow crinkled and the worries I’d been holding instead pinched his features in a frenzy.

I hope the difference is evident, but I want to point out how we both see the emotion on his face as well as get an internal reflection from the POV character. An active interpretation of his reaction creates more depth for them both.

Now, let me clarify. Every so-called rule has an equally valid reason to break it.

This also comes with creating an internal reaction by allowing reflection to pause between pieces of dialogue. For example:

“I’m pregnant,” I said.

 I expected him to swear, to ask me if it was his, to call me a whore and stomp away, but he reached for my hand instead.

“Just tell me what you need from me.”

Besides the cheese, this creates expectations from the POV character and sets up the shock of reality when he actually responds.

Less commonly—although commonly enough—we see this happening in action, too.

Anthony even drew me this lovely reference picture during one of our meetings with:

I think it’d been the fourth or fifth story we’d seen this happen in that night.

And the example was something along the lines of: She didn’t spare a glance backwards, running with long, practiced strides. (Sorry if this is from your story and I butchered it).

Of course, we’d edit it down to: She ran with long, practiced strides.

If we don’t see her look back, we know she didn’t do it.

One of the others that creates a similar show/tell issue is silence. Man, this one gets a lot of authors.

They were silent. He remained silent. There was nothing but silence.

I’ve seen it in a lot of ways, and we have plenty of options to transform this into showing instead. My favorite, of course, is personification: Every second of silence sliced another layer of confidence away.

But any form of dropping in sensory details or an internal reaction will improve on this silence.

So, there’s an editing tip from the Transmundane Press style book.

Got any don’t do scenarios in your WIP? Show me your changes in the comments below.

Personification: a Personal Favorite

Tags

creating action, creating depth, creating imagery, creating scene, literary device, personification, strong images, transform weak langauge, writing advice, writing tips

Probably one of my favorite and one of the most utilized literary device in my bag—alliteration is likely the top—Personification is a helpful little pixie, amplifying feeling and imagery and depth in a scene with a little magic.

Some of my favorite edits in a story, mine or otherwise, have transformed weak language into strong images, especially those that use to-be verbs or a lot of step-by-step action. Personification is my go-to fix for these, like:

Ria fell, banging her chin on the ground, verses, The ground jumped up to kiss Ria on the chin.

She dreaded this moment, verses, Dread sank its nails into my chest, piggy-backing across my shoulders and ribs.

He was in love, verses, Love ate at his insides, bloating it with rotten flesh and a swarm of maggots.

 

Now, I don’t feel as though any lesson I give would add much to what’s currently out there, so what I wanted to do was showcase how beautiful and powerful personification can be with some examples.

The cave sneered at us with the promise of pain.

Wind’s wails cursed us.

The Ferris wheel’s eye tore open my soul, ravaging my insides and scattering them about the small carnival.

My computer throws a fit every time I try to use it. 

Thunder grumbled like an old man. 

The Scottish Highlands called my wolf from its hiding place.

I could likely go on and on and on and on…but I think you get my point. When you’re working through your WIP, give personification a chance.

 

Share your favorite uses of personification in the comments below and let me know what your favorite literary device is to use.

POV: How to Fix Head Hopping

Tags

close third, editing advice, editing tips, head hopping, omniscient, POV shift, Sherrily Kenyon, writing advice, writing technique, writing tips

I had this post requested a while ago, and I couldn’t figure out how to put it into words at first. But as I’ve been writing lessons for a mentoring program I’m working on, I finally figured it out.

So here it goes.

First, head hopping is when we dip into more than one character’s POV in a single scene. This isn’t omniscient POV, but rather a switch between close-third perspectives.

Most editors advise against head-hopping because when we switch mid-scene, we’re not often warned that the change has occurred, and the reader is more likely to grow confused. My argument is that writers should do their best to structure of everything clearly so that the work happens in creating imagery out of language, and the reader can delve into the world instead of staying on the surface to decipher what’s happening and where.

Now, it’s been said that head hopping is more acceptable in romance and erotica because the relationship is more important than the characters individually. It helps increase tension to have access to both of their thoughts.

Do I write my romance/erotic fiction this way? No. I’m not convinced. I have seen romance writers do this successfully, like Sherrilyn Kenyon does in her Dark Hunter series, but overall, I’m not a fan of it. It confuses me too often, and I have a harder time connecting with a particular character.

So, with that out of the way, let’s talk about how we identify head hopping.

The best way to identify is to categorize, or color code, a first draft. It’s easiest to do this to a first draft so that you don’t waste time making the parts you cut and have to redraft pretty.

You can color code on a printed copy or in your word processer. Simply section highlight the parts of the story that dip into a character’s POV. This will be their internal thoughts/dialogue, the analysis of the scene or characters, and their opinions of/reactions to what’s happening in the story.

Here’s an example:

Jennifer rushed into the room, adrenaline numbing her legs and burning her lungs. The giant’s destructive footsteps didn’t shake this far into the farmland, yet.

Her hair fell from her ponytail as she swung the door closed and grabbed for everything she thought might be valuable on the move.

Frank didn’t know yet, that a giant fell from a beanstalk that’d grown overnight on the other side of the city, so he shook his head and poured another cup of coffee. What is she looking for?

Note how we’ve gone from inside of Jennifer—as she’s the only one who knows about the giant—to inside of Frank, who doesn’t understand why she’s rummaging through their stuff. There are several places where small tweaks can keep this in Jennifer’s POV.

Jennifer rushed into the room, adrenaline numbing her legs and burning her lungs. The giant’s destructive footsteps didn’t shake this far into the farmland, yet.

Her hair fell from her ponytail, teasing the corners of her eyes, as she swung the door closed and grabbed for everything that might be valuable on the move.

A giant fell from a beanstalk that’d grown overnight on the other side of the city.

Frank, her husband, shook his head and poured a cup of coffee in the small, attached kitchen. “What are you looking for?”

In this version, no one needs to tell us that Frank doesn’t know about the giant, we can see that he doesn’t by his external reaction to her. The rest is a reflection of Jennifer’s reaction to her situation: she saw the giant; she’s freaked out; she’s searching; she places who Frank is for us; and she hears him ask the question.

This creates clarity for the reader to experience the situation rather than being told about it, another reason to stay in POV. Readers like to put the pieces together because they’re smart.

Another clue of a POV shift is description. If the character is describing themselves physically, we’ve shifted out of their POV. The camera-effect shifts us into the omniscient perspective. We can’t see ourselves, except in mirrors, and that’s often a cliché technique.

This may be a pesky task the first few times you try it, but seeing a draft in colors rather than chapters helps separate us from the story to see its parts.

Once you have the whole thing color-coded—or the parts you’ve identified as problematic—see what color is most present in the scene/chapter. That’s likely the POV character for that scene and the rest should shift to his or her perspective. Some of it may not make it. If it’s an important detail, find another way to include it—dialogue, a new scene in the other character’s POV, some prop that can provide the information needed.

Sometimes, all you need to do is split a scene in two and allow more than one character to describe what’s going on and fill in the gaps. I often like the tension that comes in a mid-scene cut to the other perspective. It’s a nice trick to use every now and again.

Well, there’s my opinion and advice.

How do you identify and/or fix head hopping? When do you feel like it works or doesn’t work? Got any questions? Let me know in the comments below.

Drop the Deets: My tip for eliminating pesky dialogue tags

Tags

details, dialogue tags, dont just dont, editing, how to, humor, pet peeve, showing not telling, triggered, writers, writing

Hi, I’m Alisha, and I don’t like dialogue tags.

Aware that a great many readers and writers could give two shits about when, where, how often, and which dialogue tags are used, they rile me up.  Plain and simple.

Let me show you why.

First, to clarify, dialogue tags are necessary. They keep us on track when characters have extended conversations. And if said or asked is used to do this, they essentially become invisible. No problem here. Use them to assign a speaker—sparingly.

Now, where I get to be a bit of an editing snob: if your readers can’t tell the difference between most of your characters when they speak, this means other issues need addressed. However, the below suggestions can help with that stage of revision, too.

Next, cut the fluffy, telling dialogue tags. The ones that say how someone speaks rather than earning the true emotion of the speaker.  I’m talking about growled, mumbled, whispered, and hissing, etc. Side note, don’t have characters’ hiss without at least a few s-words. Yes, I’ve seen it, and yes, it’s infuriating. Or, god forbid, the use of adverbs to indicate these things, like he said wistfully or she said teasingly. Don’t. Just don’t.

The trick is to drop details between dialogue to nix these and develop scene, character, and tension.

Develop scene by scattering descriptions when a pause is needed. If you struggle setting scene, as I often have issue with, this is a great place for small details: a loud, neon pink duvet; the rubber frog stuck in an inner-tube on the bookshelf; a sun-bleached couch hidden in the tall grass. Be specific, use details that differentiate the scene or that reflect what the characters are thinking about.

This type of detailing helps slow down a tense scene where a lot of dialogue takes place. If you want the tension to grow, let the reader dwell on what’s said by providing sensory input that heightens the feel of the scene.

Also, to slow down and deepen tensions means providing internalization. We don’t simply talk and listen during a conversation. We digest and respond to the other person. Maybe your characters are on the same page, and their blood is pumping, their excited, and they’re thinking, Yes! Yes, finally someone who isn’t a moron. They get it. Thus, when they respond verbally with, “I absolutely agree,” you won’t need to dump why they agree into their conversation. It’s not needed. The reader feels the same.

But maybe, the characters are not in agreement with each other, and they’re trying to navigate unfriendly territory without slitting each other’s throats. Then amidst the conversation, your POV character might think to himself, This guy. How do they keep making this guy? All slick and shiny with his clichéd euphemisms and shoddy tan. Forget this, I won’t buy from him. All the while, the other guy is selling him a used car—persistent beyond normal pleasantries.

If you’ve met people that you connect with or dislike immediately, you know the emotion that comes with this, but readers should get a taste, too. Hence, internalizing. This doesn’t just mean thoughts. It means physical reactions, too. The heat of anger, the cold of fear, the frenzy of adrenaline, the gooeyness of love. Throw some of that in there, too. Steer clear of the clichés with personification or metaphor.

Finally, show a bit more character, beyond scene and internalization are other senses that we can appeal to, other details that we can drop. Build a character slowly through a conversation. First, notice the elaborate ring on the old man’s middle finger that seems to glow strangely when the sun hits it right. Then when he speaks of a long-gone lover, show how his dark eyes shine, glossy with a deep pain that crinkles when he looks away. Catch a whiff of his cologne, astringent with undertones of grease and cedar. Finally, the notch in his ear, twisting his lobe that you didn’t notice under the shadow of his hat until he leaned forward.

We don’t see everything about a person at once. If we did, life would be boring, and when we do it in writing, our stories grow boring. And don’t merely show us things. Make us feel them, taste them, and smell them.

Don’t be afraid to give your characters’ tics—picking at their nails, rubbing their hands together, tugging at their shirt hem—we all have tells for our emotions. The reader might not know exactly why a character keeps spinning their ring around their finger, but the writer should, and they should show it.

Let me know your tips and tricks for eliminating dialogue tags and world-building. Or disagree with me, I can take it.

Editing Tip: My Take on Eliminating Words and Sharpening Language

Tags

advice, drafting, editing tip, eliminating words, online writing tools, prowritingaid, sharpening language, show don't tell, strong language, writing tips

Editing Tip: My Take on Eliminating Words and Sharpening Language

So, you’ve finished your first draft, gone in and smoothed over your plot, and now it’s time to focus on language rather than content. Where do you start?

Years ago, I stumbled across a list of words to eliminate and an online writer’s tool as I edited my first novel; the combination became my first step at cutting vague or repetitious words, finding awkward language, typos, and the like. Since then, my editor and I have added to this list, and I’ve sent it off to several of the authors I’ve worked with.

They’ve proven effective.

Let me share my methods with you.

The list(s):

Original words to eliminate:

• That
• As (was)
• Were
• Just
• Only
• Try
• Tried
• Moment
• Turn
• Glance
• Fro (From)
• Could/Would
• Had
• Almost
• Barely
• Nearly
• Even
• Somehow
• Something
• Still
• There
• Manage
• Feel/Felt
• Like

Alisha’s Additions

• Think
• Thought
• Notice
• Saw
• Look
• Hear(d)
• Taste

Anthony’s Additions:

• Got
• Went
• Very
• Important
• Used to
• Every
• Never
• Seem
• Often
• Big
• Small
• Have got

Obviously, you can’t cut them all, but look closely at the lines you use these in and play with the language to see if the word(s) can be eliminated. This typically makes language stronger and more active—more show and less tell.

The easiest way to utilize this list is to start at the top. Use the find option (command+f for mac or control+f for pc) and search for one word at a time through a chapter. This allows you to isolate and eliminate much more effectively than working through all of these words at once. Once you hit the end of the chapter, move on to the next word until you’ve worked through them all.

Finally, copy and paste the whole chapter (or part depending on its length) through ProWriting Aid (http://prowritingaid.com/). Join with the free membership, that’s all that is really needed. Your editor will fine tune what’s left.

How do you hone your language?

Feel free to comment, ask questions, and make your own suggestions.

Editing Tip: Squelching Feedback by R. Judas Brown

Tags

Alan Rickman, alphas, Art, beta readers, betas, brainstorming, broad picture, critics, critiques, ed greenwood group, editing, editing tips, feedback, focused feedback, grammar, Harry Potter, inexperienced, J.K. Rowling, kill your darlings, professional, prose, publishing, quincy writers guild, R. Judas Brown, readers, release, respect, rewriting, Severus Snape, squelching feedback, stories, suggestions, sullied, swap ideas, voice

Editing Tip: Squelching Feedback (or Making the Most of Critiques) by R. Judas Brown

One of the most useful tools of the editorial process comes once you have completed your story: your draft readers.  They are the first people who get to see your new baby.  You spent days, weeks, and months laboring over sentence structure and word choice, now — whether it’s to your local critique group or a cadre of personally recruited alpha- and beta-readers – you pass your new baby into their waiting hands.  Hands filled with sharpened knives. Their cruel eyes glint with malice. Sharpened fangs drip—

What I am saying is they are going to tear into it.

And they should.

No matter how thorough you are, you still have work to do. Another set of eyes is invaluable in the editing process.  Your tricky brain knows the story.  It fills in details that didn’t make it onto the page.  It auto-corrects words as you proofread.  It knows the story, so it doesn’t actually need to learn the story from reading, as such it cannot fully evaluate your work.  That is why feedback is so important before your release, whether through a publisher or self-publishing.

Here are a few ways to get the most out of your reader-feedback.

• It was good. I liked it. – When you start, this seems like the best feedback you can get.  It’s good!  What more could you want?  Well, a lot more.  Is this a favorite aunt who doesn’t want to hurt your feelings?  It could be a reader inexperienced with critiquing. When you get this response, it is important to ask follow-up questions.  Some authors create reader-question sheets they send out for specific answers.

  I don’t go that far.  I prefer to get the broad picture from my readers, but I need more than rubber stamping.  I ask: what works? What doesn’t?  Did my villain feel real?  Did the wumpus scene feel like certified legitimate wumpus?  This not only helps you; it cultivates this person as a reader.  Sometimes, it can be awkward (I have asked specifically about the authenticity of lesbian scenes, having no frame of reference myself), but I chose them for a reason.

• It is bad, and you should feel bad. – This hurts. It hurts a lot, however, this is good, not just for your story’s development, but your own.  Writing is art.  Art gets criticized, and it isn’t always nice. Some authors do not handle it well.  I won’t go into the multitude of stories illustrating how to ruin a career by aggressively confronting critics on a personal level. Don’t be that guy. Be professional.  This is not only someone who (theoretically) is trying to help you, but they may be just as inept at giving feedback as the example above.

  Time for those questions again:  Was there anything that you did like?  Was it the story or the subject matter? The fact is that not every story is meant for everyone.  Is this not their thing?  Does it deal with something that they find triggering?  For instance, no matter how well you write, someone who has survived an abusive relationship may find too much of their own pain.

Those are the two extremes of blanket feedback: the all good and the all bad.  The best kind of feedback is more focused and specific.  It will usually come from readers who you have “trained” through questions to look for what you want, or from other writers who know what they would want.   These more specific responses can be far more useful, on the surface, but will still require careful consideration.

• There are a few grammar issues to correct. – I admit this phrase frustrates me more than any other, mostly because I am so self-conscious about my grammar. Grammar is important. There are rules for a reason. But–

  The analogy I always use is a red light.  Everyone knows to stop at a red light.  Yet, when rushing your hypothetical pregnant wife/girlfriend/sister to the hospital in labor, you give it a break and a glance, and blow through because you need to.  You learn the rules so you know how, when, and where you can bend them a bit. This can be a tool to storytelling, but should not be the tone of the entire story. Take a look.  Are they a stickler or did you unknowingly set a pattern that makes your story seem unpolished?

• I would have said… – Other writers love to write. We can’t help it.  It’s a thing. If you ever have a chance to watch two other writers swap story ideas, watch their faces.  They will trade looks of abject horror and betrayal as the half-formed idea they were nurturing is twisted – SULLIED! – by the perverse imagination of their counterpart who doesn’t see the same exact flowering tale they do.

  This may come with the rewriting of a sentence, a rearrangement of paragraphs, or a replotting of months of your passion.  You will want to ignore this, delete the contact, and crop this person out of every picture you have.  Don’t.  Read it and consider.  Once again, you chose them for a reason.  In this case, a measure of professional respect for their abilities as a writer.

  Writers have different voices, so you have to filter their voice out of the commentary.  Would the sentence work better re-worded a bit? If you shift a paragraph, does it become clearer?  Just because they wrote their suggestion in their voice, doesn’t invalidate it.  Just because you admire their writing, you don’t have to accept it.  Judge the raw suggestion on its own merit.

• You don’t need this. – Remember that your readers have exactly what you have given to work with. No context provided beyond that which is on the paper. When shooting the Harry Potter movies, the late Alan Rickman had to pull the director aside at times to explain a certain scene needed to be changed from the script. J. K. Rowling had given him a deeper glimpse into Severus Snape that had not yet appeared in published books.  The director deferred, because Alan had access to context the studio didn’t.

  I recently shared a few paragraphs with a good writing friend because I was pleased with the atmosphere I had laid out.  I am enamored with her as a person and author.  She absolutely eviscerated them.  I think there were a few bare sentences left. There was no atmosphere, only the bones remained.  She was not incorrect, she was offering her opinion without the context of the larger tale that would follow, the tale that would be built on what lay within this antiquated shop.

  That doesn’t mean to ignore suggested deletions.  Just bear in mind the whole story you are telling, and how that passage serves your tale.  A popular refrain is to “kill your darlings.” If it doesn’t serve the story, cut it.  Your prose doesn’t have to be bare, but it does have to do its job.

That will get you most of your mileage from feedback. As with any writing advice, I encourage you to understand that your mileage may vary.  Use what helps.  Discard the rest.  I will leave you with one final tip.

• Remember everyone involved is human. – Everyone, yourself included, is learning and fallible. Thank your readers.  Mean it.  Recognize that honesty takes bravery, and respect it.  Respect yourself.  The interaction between you and your readers can be a strong bond that leads to growth for each of you.  Cherish it.

 A recent transplant to the Midwest, R. Judas Brown has found a home along the banks of the Mississippi surrounded by wife, kids, animals, and friends. His work with fantasy, sci-fi, and horror has appeared in several anthologies. Aside from numerous solo projects, he is working with The Ed Greenwood Group, collaborating with other authors on the upcoming Split Image worlds, and serves on the Board of Directors for the Quincy Writers Guild in Quincy, IL. You can follow him on Twitter @RJudasBrown, at www.facebook.com/RJudasBrown, or visit his website at www.rjudasbrown.com.

 

Publishing Tip: No Fancy Shit. My personal take on formatting.

Tags

agent, chapters, creative, editing, editor, fancy, format properly, formatting, guidelines, indent, margins, no fancy shit, page numbers, personal, publishers, publishing, publishing tips, reject stories, running header, spacing, standard, submission requirements, submissions, title page

Publishing Tip: No Fancy Shit. My personal take on formatting.

Often, publishers reject stories based on formatting issues because improper formatting signals that a writer doesn’t follow direction well and will be difficult to work with. If you don’t want that, format properly!

Here is my first and most important tip. Really, it should be the ONLY tip, but I’ll expand later.

Read the submission requirements for the publisher/agent/editor you are submitting to. Then format your manuscript (poem, flash fiction, short stories, novellas, novels…everything) ACCORDING TO THEIR REQUIREMENTS.

Phew. My apologies for the yelling, but seriously, why would you do anything else? That’s like not putting your name on the SAT after answer all the questions right (or any of them right.)

But, you might ask, what about publishers/agents/editors don’t have guidelines? General publishing format rules are out there (and written down here, somewhere…whenever it is I stop blathering on).

The good news is that these guidelines are basic and generate an easy base to use for more specific formats.

 

So…here’s what I’ve got.

-Standard 8.5×11 paper or file page.

-Clean, legible, professional font (Times New Roman or Courier New not Comic Sans or something Fancy) in 12-point font.

-On that note, no funky colors. Stick with black on white.

-Create 1-inch margins on all sides. (Documents sometimes come with 1.25-inch side margins).

-Use a title page with your name, address, contact info, website if applicable, and word count.

-Use page numbers; begin these on the first page of the story, not the title page.

-Put your name and story title on every page by using a header. This means if the story gets shuffled or knocked, or mixed with another story in the editing process, your story will piece back together easily. (Anthony and I personally print stories to edit them initially. Always good to have that safety net). Examples: Xavier/GREEN GRAVES/13 or Parker “Taming Susan” pg. 211 or Smith – Behind the Green Glass Door – page 88

-Double-space the entire text. This makes it easier to read and easier to write/comment on when editing. But don’t put extra spaces between paragraphs.

-Indent a half-inch for each new paragraph. If you can set your document to do this without using tab, all the better.

-Begin chapters on new pages.

-Separate scenes with a centered indicator * or #. (I prefer ###).

 

Essentially, formatting is not the place to get creative; your story should have enough of that to forego the fancy borders and fun colors. If you feel the need to do these things, take another look at your story instead.

It couldn’t hurt.

Here is some of what others have to say.

What do you have to say about formatting?