Eager Writers! Where Are You?

Next weekend, hundreds of writers are coming to the Writer's Convention in Newport Beach. I'll be teaching there--but unless you've sent me an Advance Read manuscript, we won't have much time for a personal chat.

Yet in three weeks I'll be in Vermont, at the Landgrove Inn--with editor Carolyn Uber--and we'll have THREE DAYS to give you and your manuscript all the time you need. Three days with three other writers and no interruptions. October 10-October 13.

Three days of great food in a fantastic setting--brilliant red and orange leaves everywhere--and the editor and I ready to give you our full attention. All at a reasonable price. So now I have just one question: WHERE IS EVERYBODY?

Three Days of Heaven

Three days to get personal feedback on your manuscript. Three days of writing tips from an editor (Carolyn Uber, Stephens Press), and 12-book author and teacher (Maralys Wills). Three days of gourmet meals. Three days of the country’s most spectacular scenery. Three days of author inspiration.

Come join us in Vermont, October 10-October 13. The Landgrove Inn. (802) 824-6673. Or, (800) 669-8466. Or vtinn@sover.net. Only $700+tax and service—for 4 nights, 3 days of room, board and all-day workshops.

We’ll see you there!

WRITER'S HEAVEN IN VERMONT

The leaves are red, orange, and scarlet. The Inn is quaint, with gourmet meals. And an editor and twelve-book author are there, ready to give you personal, in-depth help with your manuscript.

Come to Vermont at the height of the leaf-peepers’ season—October 10-13--Columbus Day. Carolyn Uber, senior editor for Stephens Press, and Maralys Wills, author and teacher, will give you the help you need to produce a great manuscript. Three days—the kind of writers’ workshop you’ve always dreamed of. Personal help from the experts.

Contact Landgrove Inn: vtinn@sover.net. Or call them: 1-800-669-8466

Or e-mail me: Maralys@Cox.net.

BAD BEGINNINGS ARE FOREVER

Last month I was a speaker at a Wyoming writers conference. I also critiqued seven Advance Submissions—whose qualities ranged from poor to nearly professional.

Yet one thing they all had in common: nobody knew where to begin.

I still remember some of those slow starts: a young woman taking cookies to her aging grandmother; another girl traveling to Florida on a train, idly musing about her changing life; a couple setting up a tent on the beach; a young girl driving into a strange town, reasons unknown.

Nothing happening anywhere.

Compare these beginnings to the start of a book whose author I recently interviewed: In Las Vegas a young woman falls out of a tour helicopter and lands in the middle of the pirate show on Treasure Island.

Now THAT’S a beginning.

Not all beginnings need to be this extreme. But the book must open in the middle of something dramatic. A beginning can be compared to someone dropping into a rushing river, and any minute he’ll plunge over the waterfall.

Beginnings start at a moment of crisis, after which the characters’ lives change forever, and nothing will be the same.

When I speak to memoir writers I ask, “What’s the most dramatic thing that ever happened to you?” and when they explain, I say, “Start there. Then backtrack and tell us how you got there and why this terrible, or amazing thing happened.

Think of the book “Into Thin Air” in which a mountain climber attempts to reach the top of Mount Everest. Guess where the book starts . . . at the top of Everest. So you know the hero reached his goal, but the interesting story questions remain. How did he get there? What happened along the way? What about the people who never achieved their dreams--who instead may have died?

If you need examples of great starts to novels, you might look at my book, “Damn the Rejections, Full Speed Ahead,” and read the chapter on Beginnings. I’ve got some great ones.

Meanwhile, in your own work, as you begin Chapter One, think DRAMA. CATASTROPHE. EXCITEMENT. PERIL. Anything less won’t do.

HOW TO KILL YOUR CREATIVITY

I just made a classical writer's mistake. I rushed out to the family room to tell my husband the fantastic name of a new book I intend to write, starting today, and he said, “EEEYOOOGH!” Exactly the way a teenager says "EEEYOOOGH!" when you suggest he abandon his texting and start writing his term paper. Or maybe that he pull his jeans up to somewhere near his waist.

I don’t know how to spell that sound, but I recognize it when I hear it--and so do you! Every published author has heard that dismaying noise at one time or another, so we all know how it strikes the ear, even if we can't capture it letter by letter. It’s the sound of No Way, You’ve Got to be Kidding, or worse . . . That’s a Rotten Idea If I’ve Ever Heard One.

My idea for the new book fizzled like a party balloon with a tiny pin prick. The creative air seeped out, faster and faster, and I just stood there, dismayed. And finally I even said it. “Well, I’ve just broken the first rule of creativity.” Rob simply looked at me. He doesn’t know the rule, and he wouldn’t care about it if he knew. But he’ll gladly give me his first reaction to what he considers a bad title.

Have you caught on to the rule?

In case you haven’t, the rule is, Never share the first blush of a creative idea with ANYONE. Not until you’ve got it all down on paper, until the thing is mostly written and you can’t unwrite it.

If it was a dumb idea in the first place, you’ll soon know. If it wasn’t a dumb idea, you risk letting someone kill your baby while it’s still in the womb.

Everyone who writes knows this rule, and no one better than I. My inner voice said, “Don’t share this,” and I should have listened, but I didn’t, I rushed out to expose my great idea to toxic fumes. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

I finally said, “Nora Ephron’s published book is called, ‘I Remember Nothing.’ Do you think that’s a good title?" And he said No.

Well, that was some comfort, anyway. I’m sure Ephron has sold a million copies of this very funny book with the dumb title. Except I happen to love it, bad title and all.

ARE YOU READY TO PUBLISH?

Probably not. If you have doubts, you are certainly not ready.

It’s an impatient world out there—too many of us with too much to do. Too many newspapers to read, phone calls to make, e-mails to answer, meals to cook, minutes to spend exercising, dishes to wash.

And besides, you’re writing a book. (Or maybe something shorter.)

How much time did you give your writing? One edit? Two? Possibly three?

How many people have read it? And what did they say?

“This is interesting.” “I like it.” “You’ve done a good job.” “Nice article.” “An okay first chapter.” “Keep going.”

“Interesting” doesn’t cut it. Nor do any of the other comments. These people are your friends, and they don’t want to hurt your feelings. But their level of enthusiasm is tepid. And you know tepid when you see it.

Your piece is clearly not good enough. None of these people are raving. So all you’ve done is make a decent first start. A dent. But the thing is not publishable. Not even close.

If you go “out there” with this work, even spend money to get it published, nobody will make the effort to read more than a few pages. (Except, maybe, your three best friends and your mother.) You will have spent time and energy on a piece of writing that needs lots more work.

Now wait!! Don’t throw it away. Your idea is probably worth keeping. It’s worth re-working. It’s worth cutting, enriching, dissecting, made funnier. You are no dummy, you doubtless have unusual and interesting thoughts. Your work deserves to be read by others. Trust me on that one. Or rather, trust yourself. If you’re reading this, you are not a throw-away writer.

The stark reality that few of us fully grasp is—good writing takes a ton of work. More work than any newbie ever imagines. It takes more refinement, more re-working, more polishing than most of us dreamed would be necessary. It takes more tweaking than a Lamborghini.

But all that effort is a must. Unless you’re willing to edit obsessively, your piece will never be ready for the larger world. Which means most people won’t read it. So what’s the point?

Okay, then, you’ve gone over your work a dozen times. It’s finally begun to thrill you, to capture even your over-exposed attention. You honestly believe it reads like the best stuff you’ve seen elsewhere. So you give it back to your friends.

Geronimo! Their critiques have changed. “This is great!” “I love it!” “Powerful!” “I’ve given it to all my friends!” “Wonderful!” “Couldn’t stop reading!” “I stayed up all night!”

These are the critiques that should send you to a publisher. Immediately.

A WORLD TURNING UPSIDE DOWN

For all of you who see your everyday lives morphing faster than you ever dreamed possible, let me say that nothing is changing quicker, or with more uncertainty, than book publishing. Those of us on the inside can only stare and shake our heads. As authors we try to adjust, but few of us can predict which of our books will sell best—if at all--or in what format. Will old-fashioned paper even be involved?

Only a handful of years ago, nobody thought book stores would soon become obsolete. Yet while they still stand around looking formal and important, except for teens with computers under their arms—all heading for the coffee bar—adult readers have largely abandoned them.

Part of this is the fault of the chain bookstores themselves. In their zeal to rid themselves of competing independents, they also killed off the eager librarian types who once “sold” their readers the world’s best books. Today, the chains are not known for selling anything; all they do is display. Which Costco--or your best friends--do just as well.

Meanwhile, we authors are scrambling to become known in that mysterious and semi-visible world of the Net. Those of us who aren’t kids any longer soon learn we need expertise on steroids--so I’m finding computer mavins to make me and my books internet-visible. Will this help me sell some of the books in my garage?

I honestly don’t know.

I’ll be happy to share the answer in a few months.