Tag Archives: Avoiding the cliche /

Hot Topics from the Conference Scene: Diversity in Fiction Writing + Subjectivity in the Slush Pile

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Happy Fall, Word Cafe readers! For me, it marks the beginning of conference season, and I’m just back from the Colorado Gold Conference from Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers. It’s always a top-notch event, but this year’s offering of workshops and panels was perhaps the best yet. I’ll give a quick overview of some themes and resources that resonated with me, and then I’ll zoom in on a vital topic for writers heading into submissions: subjectivity in the slush pile and the publishing industry.

A couple of sessions that really stood out to me put the spotlight on diversity in fiction. They were “Writing the Basics of Queer Characters” by Charles Yoite, Emily Singer, and Cath Lauria; and debut MG author Judith Robbins Rose’s talk about writing characters from a different culture/background than your own. A theme that emerged in both sessions was the importance of including a broad array of experiences and viewpoints within what we consider “diverse characters,” in order to avoid what author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie calls “the danger of a single story.” In other words, including a cisgender gay male character in your fiction (for example) does not begin to encompass the entire LGBTQ experience, just as writing about a young second generation Mexican girl from a tough neighborhood does not encapsulate “the Latino/a experience” in the U.S. If you’d like to explore this further, check out the website of the amazing We Need Diverse Books campaign. Now in its second year, the BeyondTheTropecampaign has made great strides toward getting the publishing industry and our literature to more accurately reflect the diversity of this country (it focuses on the U.S. book market, but hopefully the message will go global!).

Another dynamite workshop, “Tropes 101,” showed how to turn fictional tropes on their heads, and featured the team from the Beyond the Trope podcast. A few questions that arose: “Why do women warriors wear bikini-like armor–isn’t there a chance someone might try to stab the parts the armor doesn’t cover?” and “How can I subvert the ‘faithful dog/man’s best friend’ trope? (Answers from the brainstorming session: “Make the dog an alligator,” or “Let the dog think her master is an idiot.”) If you’re not acquainted with the podcast, I recommend it for excellent writing advice and a hearty dose of cerebral humor.

I always like to attend the agent/editor panels at conferences to stay current on what the publishing world is looking for, and this year’s RMFW sessions did not disappoint. For me, though, the prevailing message was one you have (hopefully) heard before:

In the world of publishing, it often comes down to individual tastes and opinions.

AgentEditorReadsSlushPilePanel croppedCase in point: the “Agents/Editors Read the Slush Pile” panel. It featured two agents and two publishers/acquiring editors, who were to listen as Angie Hodapp (my friend and former colleague at Nelson Literary) read the first two pages of audience members’ manuscripts. The panelists were to raise their hands at the point where they would stop reading if these were submissions in their slush pile, and then explain why. Talk about a nail-biting experience for the participating writers! But there was a twist: Angie had mixed in the opening pages of four New York Times bestsellers to add a little nail-biting on the other side of the table as well. Here’s how it played out:

Every participant received genuine praise from the panelists, and nearly every one made it to the end of the two-page read with at least one panelist still interested. The agents and editors were clearly impressed and noted that this was not at all typical during such an activity (or in the slush pile); the pool of submissions was exceptionally strong. Some things the panelists liked:

Elegant prose. They noticed when the writing was flowing beautifully, and if it ever started to feel over-written or stilted, hands went up (the “stop reading” signal).

Questions raised in the reader’s mind. There were cases where panelists said they might have stopped reading, had there not been a compelling question raised in those first two pages, ensuring they wanted to hear more in order to find out what would happen next.

The panelists did find room for improvement in each submission. Here were the most common pieces of advice:

Trim, trim, trim. For at least half of the submissions, panelists recommended tightening the writing on the sentence or paragraph level. Several authors were told their story started in the wrong place; that they should trim the first couple of paragraphs, the first page and a half, etc.; start the story in a more dynamic spot, and then weave in any relevant information from the cut material later. Some stories had an overload of descriptive language. Others contained too much thinking/ruminating from the main character, preventing the story from really taking off.

Clarify who the main character is (in the context of the story) and help readers get to know her/him better, right off the bat. Some of the submissions had excellent prose, but the panelists were left with a vague notion of the POV character. More grounding was needed.

Infuse the story with more emotion or a reason for the reader to care. Some of the submissions flowed nicely but left the audience feeling apathetic about the characters (often a precursor to yawning). Tackle the “So what?” factor early on.

Now, here’s the kicker. Remember those four NYT bestsellers? Can you guess how they fared?

The four published novels received reviews ranging from “good,” to lukewarm interest, to “no thanks.” None of them gave the impression of blowing the panelists away. Two received a stop sign from all or most of the panelists before the end of two pages. They were novels by…drum roll…Philippa Gregory and Nora Roberts. Yes, really!

Each of the four bestsellers received suggestions for improvement; the most common was again “I could see room for a bit of trimming/tightening.”

Are you surprised? I wasn’t. After hearing the samples, I agreed with those critiques and suggestions, but on a big-picture level, it’s something I’ve seen over and over in the publishing industry. In writing, as in any art form, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Yes, there is such a thing as incontestable good writing, just as there is cringe-worthy writing. But in the middle is a vast gray area, where it often comes down to individual tastes, preferences, and opinions on the part of industry professionals. It has become an axiom: Every agent has rejected a book that went on to be a big hit.

During this critique session, there was definitely overlap in the panelists’ feedback, but not a single submission received exactly the same assessment from all four agents/publishers. And though they appeared a little sheepish at rejecting those bestsellers, the panelists stuck to their guns and delivered what I think was the most important take-away: Publishing is a subjective business, and debut authors have the hardest road. You have to get your foot in the door and prove yourself before you’re allowed a few missteps or a saggy opening scene. Then, once you have established yourself as a master storyteller (AKA sold millions of copies), you just might get away with murder.

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My workshop at the conference was titled “A Layered Approach to Worldbuilding: The Macro, the Micro, & the Unseen.” You can read some of the content in this blog post.

On Endings…Novels, That Is (What makes a good one?)

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shutterstock_90341185HAPPY NEW YEAR!

As we get ready to say goodbye to 2014, naturally, I’ve been thinking about endings. In this case, novel endings. The final stretch of a novel is probably the single most difficult part of a story to pull off, and it’s one of the areas where I see the most problems in my editing work. If you think about it, that makes a lot of sense: you’ve spent hundreds of pages building a complex fictional world and developing interesting, true-to-life characters to inhabit it. Readers have invested their time, emotions, and even a little cash, in your endeavor. After all that, there’s nothing more disappointing than a lackluster finish to the journey! So what is it that makes an ending satisfying—or not?

There are many elements to consider here, but here, I’ll focus on three that I think are among the most important:

Characters must remain true to themselves (and thus, reader expectations). In my view, this is the most vital ingredient of a satisfying ending. By the end of a full-length novel, readers have come to know your characters on the level of intimacy you find with a lover (remember that feeling of heartache when you read the final page of your favorite novel and had to say goodbye—now do I exaggerate? 🙂 ) A great deal of reader disappointment results when the protagonist suddenly does something, well, out of character. This is a serious problem because, to the reader, it feels like a betrayal. It often happens because the author had a destination in mind that did not bend and develop during the course of the novel; the characters grew, but the idea for the ending did not. To avoid it, ask yourself: is this what my characters would do, or is it simply what I want them to do in keeping with the schnazzy ending I’ve been dying to put in a novel? Am I trying to stuff them into a shoe that doesn’t fit?

Don’t let it get messy. This is a problem I see most often in epic fantasies, but it can strike in any genre. It happens for a couple of reasons. One is that you have built a big, complex story with multiple plot threads and are now trying to tie all of them off. If you don’t find a way to bring them together neatly, using connections built throughout the story, you end up trying to put out a whole bunch of separate fires in the space of a few pages. And there just aren’t enough firemen for that—even in romance! Another reason it happens is that you may be trying to close the story before it is truly finished—you’re rushing. In both cases, the best advice is to take a deep breath and step back far enough to see the big picture. Is every one of the story threads indispensible? Or could one or two be trimmed to make for a tighter, more cohesive plot? Have you pursued each thread fully, so that they are ready to contribute to the ending?

It must steer clear of the generic or cliché. A third issue that often comes up is a lack of originality. Have you ever read a book that was strong through the beginning and middle, then suddenly lost steam and became a derivative of every famous novel in its genre? It’s understandable—I think this one comes as a result of writing fatigue, deadline pressure, or a combination of both. In the end, though, it’s vital to keep that creative energy flowing all the way to the end. Ask yourself: have I seen this ending before? If the answer is yes, your readers probably have, too.

May 2015 bring success and abundant blessings to your writing life…and heck, to life in general! Cheers!