Tag: advice

  • Writing Advice: 5 Things I Wish I Could Tell My 20-Year-Old Self

    Writing Advice: 5 Things I Wish I Could Tell My 20-Year-Old Self

    I sometimes wish I could offer the 20-year-old version of me — the one just getting started — advice about writing based on what I’ve learned over the last two decades. Considering the mistakes I’ve made, and what I’ve learned from them, I could give myself a good head-start.

    While my mistakes were plentiful, five stand out as being particularly useful lessons to a writer just out of the gate. Here’s the writing advice I’d share with the younger, more energetic me. If you’re a new writer, perhaps it will be useful to you as well.

    1. Write as often as you can, every day if possible

    We all practice things to become better at them, even when we don’t feel like practicing. If you play an instrument, you try to practice as often as you can to become a better musician. Why is writing any different?

    For most of my writing career, however, I never wrote very much. I’d produce a story or two each year, maybe 25,000 words total. If I wrote 30 or 40 days in a given year, it was a lot. During the first 21 years I was writing, I sold a story, on average, once every three years.

    Two years ago, I set out to see if I could write every day. I wasn’t worried about how much I wrote, just that I would write every day, even if it was only for 10 minutes.

    The result? I have a nearly perfect track record. The last day on which I didn’t write was July 21, 2013. I’ve written for 714 out of the last 716 days. In that time, I have produced just over 500,000 words.

    Writing every day gives me the practice I need to become a better writer. I think it shows. During the last two years, I’ve sold a story or article once every 45 days on average. Practice helps. I shudder to think how much better I might be today if I had been writing every day for the last 23 years.

    2. Find a writing group that will read what you write and give critical feedback

    When I started writing, it never occurred to me to show what I wrote to someone else for critical feedback before sending it off to a magazine. For the most part, I was the only one making critical assessments of my work, and — as it turns out — I am not my best critic.

    In 2008, I attended an online science fiction writing workshop run by James Gunn at the University of Kansas at Lawrence. This was my first real exposure to workshopping stories, getting vital critical feedback (as well as giving it), and using that feedback to improve my stories. After completing the workshop, I saw a notable improvement in my stories, and began selling more of them.

    In 2010, I joined a local writing group in Arlington, Virginia, through Meetup. I’ve been a member of that group ever since, and the critical feedback I’ve received from the group members has been among the best lessons I’ve received as a writer.

    Plus, it’s nice to occasionally hang out with people who get what it’s like to be a writer.

    3. Don’t bother your favorite writer by asking him to read and comment on your latest masterpiece

    Yes, I did this. I didn’t know any better. I know that’s not a good excuse, but it’s the truth. Sometime in 1992 or 1993, I sent one of my stories to my favorite writer at the time — Piers Anthony — asking for feedback. Looking back on it, I am horribly embarrassed that I did this.

    I was fortunate. Mr. Anthony not only wrote me a pleasant reply, but he included a critique of my story. I imagine there are other writers who would not have been so genial.

    These days, I am occasionally the recipient of such requests. For several years, I did my best to give what feedback I could; I saw it as my penance for the sin I’d committed. But if I could have a do-over, I would grab the younger version of myself by the lapels and scream, “DON’T DO IT!”

    4. Don’t be afraid of rejection

    When I started out, I was a little afraid of rejection. I got used to it pretty quickly as my pile of rejection slips grew.

    I also learned that (at least in my case) they were never personal. No one ever wrote, “This story is terrible. Don’t give up your day job.” For a long time, the rejections were just form letters.

    What surprised me — what I didn’t expect — was my fear of acceptance. The first time I sold a story, I was thrilled. As it got closer to the publication date, however, I grew nervous. After all, when a story is rejected, only the editor or slush reader sees it. When a story is published, an entire audience can see it — and judge it. That was nerve-wracking the first couple of times. But I got over that fear, too.

    This judgment also comes in the form of reviews and criticism, both formal and informal. An informal criticism, for example, is when a coworker reads a story of yours in a magazine and says, “Even I could have written something better than that!”

    Looking back, the real value of rejection was building a thick enough skin to survive the slings and arrows of acceptance.

    5. Embrace your editor’s wisdom

    I’ll admit it: when I started out writing (and for quite a long time after that) I thought an editor’s role was to reject stories. Or maybe correct a spelling mistake. Or poor grammar.

    When I began to sell stories and actually work with editors, I learned the truth: An editor is like a coach standing on the sidelines, helping your writing look and feel as good as it can be.

    The first editor I worked with, Edmund Schubert, editor of InterGalactic Medicine Show (and a very good writer in his own right) worked patiently with me on the story he eventually bought. I tried to learn from that experience.

    Dr. Stan Schmidt at Analog Science Fiction would send me page-long rejection slips describing what was wrong with the stories I sent him. I tried to learn from those, and not make the same mistake twice. After three such rejection slips, he bought a story from me.

    Every editor I have worked with, whether fiction or nonfiction, has been a great help, and made my story or article better than what it was when I submitted it. These days, I try to learn something from every interaction I have with editors.

    What I’ve learned most of all is that editors are not there to reject stories. They are there to find the best stories, and work with the writer make them even better.

    Writers, what do you wish you could tell your younger selves? What advice would you share with a writer who’s just getting started?

  • The Worst Ways to Begin Your Novel: Advice from Literary Agents

    The Worst Ways to Begin Your Novel: Advice from Literary Agents

    No one reads more novel beginnings than literary agents.

    They’re the ones on the front lines, sifting through inboxes and slush piles. And they can tell us which Chapter One approaches are overused and cliché, as well as which writing techniques just plain don’t work when you’re writing a book.

    Below, find a smattering of feedback from experienced literary agents on what they hate to see in the first pages of a writer’s submission. Consider this a guide on how to start a novel. Avoid these problems and tighten your submission!

    Here are some of the worst ways to start a novel.

    False beginnings

    “I don’t like it when the main character dies at the end of Chapter One. Why did I just spend all this time with this character? I feel cheated.”
    Cricket Freeman, The August Agency

    “I dislike opening scenes that you think are real, then the protagonist wakes up. It makes me feel cheated.”
    Laurie McLean, Foreword Literary

    In science fiction

    “A sci-fi novel that spends the first two pages describing the strange landscape.”
    Chip MacGregor, MacGregor Literary

    Prologues

    “I’m not a fan of prologues, preferring to find myself in the midst of a moving plot on page one rather than being kept outside of it, or eased into it.”
    Michelle Andelman, Regal Literary

    “Most agents hate prologues. Just make the first chapter relevant and well written.”
    Andrea Brown, Andrea Brown Literary Agency

    “Prologues are usually a lazy way to give back-story chunks to the reader and can be handled with more finesse throughout the story. Damn the prologue, full speed ahead!”
    Laurie McLean, Foreword Literary

    Exposition and description

    “Perhaps my biggest pet peeve with an opening chapter is when an author features too much exposition – when they go beyond what is necessary for simply ‘setting the scene.’ I want to feel as if I’m in the hands of a master storyteller, and starting a story with long, flowery, overly-descriptive sentences (kind of like this one) makes the writer seem amateurish and the story contrived. Of course, an equally jarring beginning can be nearly as off-putting, and I hesitate to read on if I’m feeling disoriented by the fifth page. I enjoy when writers can find a good balance between exposition and mystery. Too much accounting always ruins the mystery of a novel, and the unknown is what propels us to read further.”
    Peter Miller, PMA Literary and Film Management

    “The [adjective] [adjective] sun rose in the [adjective] [adjective] sky, shedding its [adjective] light across the [adjective] [adjective] [adjective] land.”
    Chip MacGregor, MacGregor Literary

    “I dislike endless ‘laundry list’ character descriptions. For example: ‘She had eyes the color of a summer sky and long blonde hair that fell in ringlets past her shoulders. Her petite nose was the perfect size for her heart-shaped face. Her azure dress — with the empire waist and long, tight sleeves — sported tiny pearl buttons down the bodice. Ivory lace peeked out of the hem in front, blah, blah.’ Who cares! Work it into the story.”
    Laurie McLean, Foreword Literary

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    Starting too slowly

    “Characters that are moving around doing little things, but essentially nothing. Washing dishes & thinking, staring out the window & thinking, tying shoes, thinking.”
    Dan Lazar, Writers House

    “I don’t really like ‘first day of school’ beginnings, ‘from the beginning of time,’ or ‘once upon a time.’ Specifically, I dislike a Chapter One in which nothing happens.”
    Jessica Regel, Foundry Literary + Media

    In crime fiction

    “Someone squinting into the sunlight with a hangover in a crime novel. Good grief — been done a million times.”
    Chip MacGregor, MacGregor Literary

    In fantasy

    “Cliché openings in fantasy can include an opening scene set in a battle (and my peeve is that I don’t know any of the characters yet so why should I care about this battle) or with a pastoral scene where the protagonist is gathering herbs (I didn’t realize how common this is).”
    Kristin Nelson, Nelson Literary

    Voice

    “I know this may sound obvious, but too much ‘telling’ vs. ‘showing’ in the first chapter is a definite warning sign for me. The first chapter should present a compelling scene, not a road map for the rest of the book. The goal is to make the reader curious about your characters, fill their heads with questions that must be answered, not fill them in on exactly where, when, who and how.”
    Emily Sylvan Kim, Prospect Agency

    “I hate reading purple prose – describing something so beautifully that has nothing to do with the actual story.”
    Cherry Weiner, Cherry Weiner Literary

    “A cheesy hook drives me nuts. They say ‘Open with a hook!’ to grab the reader. That’s true, but there’s a fine line between an intriguing hook and one that’s just silly. An example of a silly hook would be opening with a line of overtly sexual dialogue.”
    Daniel Lazar, Writers House

    “I don’t like an opening line that’s ‘My name is…,’ introducing the narrator to the reader so blatantly. There are far better ways in Chapter One to establish an instant connection between narrator and reader.”
    Michelle Andelman, Regal Literary

    “Sometimes a reasonably good writer will create an interesting character and describe him in a compelling way, but then he’ll turn out to be some unimportant bit player.”
    Ellen Pepus, Signature Literary Agency

    In romance

    “In romance, I can’t stand this scenario: A woman is awakened to find a strange man in her bedroom — and then automatically finds him attractive. I’m sorry, but if I awoke to a strange man in my bedroom, I’d be reaching for a weapon — not admiring the view.”
    Kristin Nelson, Nelson Literary Agency

    In a Christian novel

    “A rape scene in a Christian novel in the first chapter.”
    Chip MacGregor, MacGregor Literary

    Characters and backstory

    “I don’t like descriptions of the characters where writers make them too perfect. Heroines (and heroes) who are described physically as being virtually unflawed come across as unrelatable and boring. No ‘flowing, wind-swept golden locks’; no ‘eyes as blue as the sky’; no ‘willowy, perfect figures.’ ”
    Laura Bradford, Bradford Literary Agency

    “Many writers express the character’s backstory before they get to the plot. Good writers will go back and cut that stuff out and get right to the plot. The character’s backstory stays with them — it’s in their DNA.”
    Adam Chromy, Movable Type Management

    “I’m turned off when a writer feels the need to fill in all the backstory before starting the story; a story that opens on the protagonist’s mental reflection of their situation is a red flag.”
    Stephany Evans, FinePrint Literary Management

    “One of the biggest problems is the ‘information dump’ in the first few pages, where the author is trying to tell us everything we supposedly need to know to understand the story. Getting to know characters in a story is like getting to know people in real life. You find out their personality and details of their life over time.”
    Rachelle Gardner, Books & Such Literary

    This column is excerpted from Guide to Literary Agents, from Writer’s Digest Books. We updated this post in August 2019 so it’s more useful and relevant for our readers!

    Photo via  Farknot Architect/ Shutterstock 
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