Signing with a small press

This is a guest post by Louise Gornall, about how she signed with the small press Entranced Publishing.

As some of you may know I recently signed with Entranced Publishing. I wanted to write this post and tell you a little bit about my experience with a small press, maybe even pass on some pearls of wisdom. Okay, maybe “passing on pearls of wisdom” is a bit strong, but I figure if you’re anything like six-months-ago-me, you might find what I have to say helpful.

They say that 90% of this writing game is luck and I was lucky enough to have my MS noticed by Entranced during Brenda Drake’s #PitMad event on Twitter. At this point I was clueless about what a small press is, but luckily Danielle Ellison and Jennifer Iacopelli were running an insight-into-small-press series on their blog, which was loaded with need-to-know information.

Senior editor at Entranced, Eden Plantz, had my manuscript for a grand total of four days before she offered me a contract. I had some serious thinking to do. Truth: I didn’t have a publishing plan. Before Eden’s offer and Danielle’s blog series all I had was an idea of the traditional route to publishing.

Anyway, being a Twitter addict I’d come across a lot of stories on how I got my agent/editor and the one constant of all of those stories seemed to be that there’s an instant connection between the writer and the acquiring party. I felt this too, the second I saw Eden tweet about girl boners. 😉 Seriously though, she shared my sense of humour, which was an automatic tick. She’s also a YA writer and has experience in marketing and editing: still ticking boxes. Above all things she loved my story. We’ve even discussed the possibility of a sequel. This was important to me because I’m planning on a writing career and was hoping to build a long-term relationship with my publisher.

As I had no agent it was up to me read through the contract. So many big words. But Eden sent me an email urging me to message her with any questions. At first I felt uncomfortable doing this. I had many, many questions and I knew she was busy. But here’s the thing: Eden was lovely and all, like, “No, really, hit me with your questions anytime. I’m happy to help.” Now she can’t get rid of me. I’m always in her inbox. *insert maniacal laugh here*

After I signed with Entranced, I was introduced to the team and met all the other Entranced authors, who were welcoming and have definitely earned a place on my Christmas card list. After all the meeting and the virtual hugging was over, Eden emailed me with a ton of information about the marketing and editing process. I know that marketing is essential to my books success and despite Entranced only being a small press I was stoked to discover it had a solid marketing plan.

One of the most exciting things for me has been filling out my cover design form. Since before the book was even written I’d had cover design fantasies and Entranced asked me for input! Between you and me, I’ve also cast the movie. 😉

Right now we’re at the content edit stage of book production. Then when we’re done with that, In Stone will go and meet the line editor for one final polish…

I’ve never had any experience with a large press so it wouldn’t be fair to start comparing the two. All I can tell you is that I’m having a great time working with Entranced. I’m loving being so involved with the publishing process and am really excited about the release of my novel.

Louise D. Gornall is a writer at Entranced Publishing. Her YA urban fantasy story, ‘In Stone”, will be released in the Northern Hemisphere fall.

Louise Gornall

 


How “Professional” Writing Experience Can Help / Hurt You as a Novelist

This guest post is written by the divine Veronica Park!

How it HELPS:

1. You probably don’t subscribe to the ‘no words without inspiration’ school of thought.

Or, better yet, you’ve trained yourself to become inspired on command. This is great, because so many others out there will spend countless hours sitting in front of their antique typewriters, sipping scotch and staring out of windows … waiting for inspiration to hit them like a freight train of rhetoric. Meanwhile, you’ll be bent over your laptop, head down like a mule. Writing away, and leaving all those other fools in the dust.

2. You’re probably good with deadlines.

Similar to the fallacies inherent in #1, but much more dire, is the belief that ‘great’ writing has to be allowed to form in its own sweet time. Unfortunately for writers, editors—and most members of the publishing world as a whole—do not share this belief. If you’re able to recognize that and, better yet, forge ahead with eyes levelled on that deadline horizon (or, heck, even schedule your emotional breakdowns accordingly?) you’re on the road to success, my friends.

3. You’ve probably been trained to follow things through to completion.

A lot of writers without professional experience find they lack the drive, or the self-confidence, to keep hacking away at a WIP until it’s finished. No matter how ugly things get in the process. As a result, they shelve countless manuscripts, telling themselves they just aren’t good enough to succeed. My question for those writers is this: how will you ever know for sure, if the completed version of that idea is never allowed to see the light of day? (Let alone the gently critical, yet encouraging eyes of your crit partners?)

4. You’re probably good at juggling.

I’m not just speaking in terms of handling multiple writing projects at once. Even though, yes, that’s an incredibly important skill to cultivate as an author. As Tchaikovsky once supposedly said, “My greatest work is always the next one.” In this case, however, I’m also referring to the rest of your life. How you manage to reconcile all of the boring, everyday details of “real” life—work, grocery shopping, feeding the family, picking up the dry cleaning, soccer practice, etc.—with the fantasy world you’ve created in your mind.

Creative efforts, even ones which are based in reality, do have a habit of making the real world seem less attractive. When you’re immersed in a story, it can be really tempting to just ignore that world and live in your pyjamas until the book is finished. But not everyone has that luxury. As a professional writer, you’ve probably already come face to face with that challenge, and hopefully conquered it.

How it can HURT:

1. You’re probably used to being told what to do next.

As a journalist, you become accustomed to taking orders from a higher power (your editor, your CEO, your readership). By extension, you learn to take a great deal of constructive criticism. Above all, you adapt the style and scope of your writing to fit the needs of a target audience. These probably sound like good things. And they are.

But it’s also very easy to become dependent on these things for validation. If you’re used to just slapping something together and dropping it on your editor’s desk, confident that he’ll rip it to shreds and then come back with a list of very detailed demands—eh … I mean notes—you might have fallen victim to this attitude. What happens then, when your friends and beta readers and CPs think the book is ‘almost, but not quite’ amazing? Will you have the skill it takes to look at your WIP and figure out how to take it to the next level?

2. You’re probably used to calling all—or at least some—of the shots.

As an associate editor and later as a producer, I was able to control about 90% of the process. As a freelance journalist, I’m in charge of about 100% of the process, from inception to storyboarding to editing and even where and when I want to publish. This is NOT the case for most authors. Even self-published authors have to answer to a higher power, and that power is SALES NUMBERS. No matter how hard you work, no matter how well you market, a lot of your success as an author will depend on timing, industry, readership, luck … and that might be difficult for a bunch of control freaks like us to accept.

3. You’re probably used to getting PAID.

For me, I know this was a struggle. For a long time, I would keep track of my writing hours, filming hours … heck, even my brainstorming hours … on an organised little log sheet. At the end of every pay period, I would turn this log sheet in, and in return I would get piles (very, very small piles) of glorious, spendable money. This is not often the case with authors. Sometimes, it might feel like you’re cashing in your precious time in exchange for magic beans (the nebulous dream of someday being published). The trick is to realise that patience—and budgeting—comes with the territory. (Also, as my agent will tell you, get a good accountant ASAP.)

Here’s what you can do to make your experience WORK FOR YOU:

1. Treat your personal writing like it’s your JOB, not your hobby. As NYT Bestselling author Suzanne Brockmann once told me in an interview, she never lets anyone make her feel like her job is less important than theirs. “Take yourself seriously,” Suz said. “Published or unpublished, you are a writer. Your writing is work time—don’t use it to do errands or laundry or favours for friends.” (For a full transcript of this interview, click here.)

2. Track your time. If you struggle with time management, pretend you ARE being paid. Keep a log sheet of how many hours you spend writing, editing, or staring into space trying to figure out what the heck happens next. (Hey, it counts.) If you really want to motivate yourself, maybe keep those records somewhere safe, and tell yourself that when you sell your first book you’ll pay yourself back in Christian Louboutin shoes. Or whatever.

3. Focus on the WRITING. That’s the one thing that you can absolutely, completely control. If you start to feel helpless or hopeless, write a scene where your character takes on a seemingly insurmountable task, and wins. Don’t let reality get you down. That’s why we’re writers in the first place. We’re the ones who look reality in the face and say, “I can do better than this.” Never forget that, and you’ll be fine.

V’s Mini-bio: (In case you’re wondering who in the heck wrote this)

Veronica Park is a former broadcast and print journalist, indie movie producer, and aspiring author. She is represented by Eric Ruben of the Ruben Agency. Her current projects include a loose series of NA contemporary novels and several short stories and screenplays. She currently lives on a rather remote island in the Caribbean with her medical student husband Jake and her cat, Skeletor. You can find out more about V here.

Capture


A writer’s space

I made a huge decision last night: I decided to sell my house and downsize to something smaller, something my three-year-old and I don’t rattle around in like marbles in a bathtub. I love my current house, but the mortgage is costing me the GDP of a small African nation.

So I’ve been looking at real estate websites, trying to get myself excited at the idea of moving somewhere that’s Not Here, and I decided one of my criteria is that I need a little bit of space for just me in the house. Either a study or a living area that’s not right next to the television—in other words, somewhere I can set up the computer and write in peace.

Some people would say that’s self-indulgent. I’d save more money getting us a tiny two-bedroom apartment. But I think it’s required for my sanity, and if I can do it I should.

(I’ve also got five bookshelves worth of books I need to accommodate. Don’t ask me to part with them!)

All of this got me to thinking. What do other writers work with? What’s your current space like? Is it ideal, or are there things you’d change if you could? Do you have to write with noise-cancelling headphones to ignore the chaos around you? Or write on your laptop in your room with the door locked?

Library


Writers and publishers: do not do this to your readers!

I just finished a book that had what I’d have to say is the worst ending of all time. I know that’s a big call, but bear with me and I’m sure you’ll agree. Now, normally I wouldn’t name and shame the book, but in this case I don’t actually blame the author. I’d be surprised if the crime against readers that is the ending of this book was her idea.

Red Riding Hood

Redeeming feature: the cover is lovely

The book is “Red Riding Hood” by Sarah Blakley-Cartwright.

I knew there was a movie based on the book—there’s a little fake sticker on the front that says “Now a major motion picture”. What I didn’t know when I bought it was that the book was actually written after the screenplay; they got Blakley-Cartwright in to write the novelisation. That’s why she has joint billing on the front of the book—the other guy is the screenplay writer. A lot of the oddities in the storytelling style (the omniscient third person narrator; the choppy, short scenes) clearly fall out of this process.

But the worst thing by far—which took the book from being an interesting horror/mystery to being an abomination—is that the publishers have printed the book without the last chapter.

I don’t just mean that the last chapter sucks or the story doesn’t finish. I mean that the final chapter of the book has actually been excised from the paperback. When you get to where it should be a web address refers you to the movie’s website, where the missing chapter is available as “bonus material”.

Don’t get me started on the idea of labeling the critical part of the novel I spent money on as a “bonus”!

Apparently the novel came out before the movie, and someone was worried that it would spoil the movie. Or decided that if people could read the ending of the book (and find out who the “Wolf” was, which was the mystery element) they wouldn’t want to see the movie. Never mind the fact that readers across the world have been managing to read books before movies for decades. Some people actually prefer to do it that way.

So the extra chapter wasn’t actually released onto the website till after the movie came out. I can’t imagine how furious I’d be if I’d bought the book beforehand and had to wait. I am frustrated enough as it is!

Withholding the end of a book from the readers isn’t a clever marketing strategy or a way to build hype. It’s insulting, and deprives readers of something they’ve (probably) paid good money for. I’m glad I bought this book secondhand. I feel less ripped off.

The other thing to consider is that a lot of book readers actually like to keep books they love on their shelves, to reread them or as a collector’s item. I’m one of those—I have shelves filled with books that I love. I would have kept this book (like I said, it’s not bad, and the cover is pretty), except it’s incomplete. What am I meant to do? Print the ten extra pages and stick them in the back? Yeah, that’s not going to happen…

I know I’m getting my ranty pants on here, but I felt extremely ripped off when I finished this book. I lay up past midnight fuming about it. (I know, I need to take a chill pill.) And I hear ranting is what blogs are all about!

I think the main lesson for writers (and publishers) is not to promise things you aren’t going to deliver in your book. If you’ve got a meta-plot arc that runs over the course of several books, that’s okay, but you’ve got to give a reader some closure at the end of your novel if you don’t want them throwing the book across the room.

Now I’m going to take a deep breath and move on. Thanks for letting me rant.


‘Which’ versus ‘that’: when to use them!

It’s time for another grammar rant from me. This one is about when to use “which” and when to use “that”. I see a lot of published documents—fiction and otherwise—that use them both (IMO) incorrectly.

Consider the following sentence:

I bought a car which is pink.

According to some grammar books, the “which” is wrong. According to others, it’s not incorrect but it’s also not the best choice of words because it leaves the reader to guess what you’re trying to say. Either way, it should be fixed.

Both “which” and “that” can be used to introduce a clause. But when they do, they flag different things to the reader. “Which” flags a non-defining clause: one that contains supplementary information not required by the main clause. “That” flags a defining clause: one that is part of your main message.

When used to introduce a clause, “which” requires a comma in front of it and “that” shouldn’t have one.

So, in the case of the car, if I’m trying to tell you a bought a car that happened to be pink, I’d say:

I bought a car, which is pink.

The information after the comma is supplementary, not essential to the sentence. But if I’m really excited about the fact my car is pink, and it’s the main focus of what I’m trying to say, then I’d use “that”:

I bought a car that is pink.

Of course, with a simple sentence like this I’d edit it further to tighten it up even more: I bought a pink car! But in a more complex example, such a rewrite isn’t possible to do elegantly. See below.

This is wrong:

I went into the bakery which sold egg-and-bacon pies and hot cross buns.

This is the non-defining clause (the bakery I went into happened to sell pies and buns):

I went into the bakery, which sold egg-and-bacon pies and hot cross buns.

This is the defining clause (I specifically went into a bakery that sold pies and buns as opposed to the one that sold, say, bread and sausage rolls—and why wouldn’t you?!):

I went into the bakery that sold egg-and-bacon pies and hot cross buns.

Mmm, egg-and-bacon pies…

Sorry, what were we talking about? :p


How to use a semicolon…

I noticed yesterday that some poor soul on the internet had been directed to my site via the search “how do I use a semicolon”. Presumably Google thought my poem about semicolons contained some jolly good advice. Which it does. But for any future random arrivals, here is a plain text explanation of correct semicolon use.

There are two ways (excluding emoticons) to use a semicolon.

The first is in complex lists. Let me show you what I mean. Here’s a simple list.

My dog likes running, scratching himself and digging holes.

(As an aside, you’ll note I didn’t put the comma before the “and”. That type of comma is called an Oxford comma—some people always use them, others regard them as optional. I personally only use them if the sentence would be confusing otherwise.)

Here is a complex list about the same dog.

My dog likes running, especially after the neighbour’s cat; scratching me, himself and the furniture; and digging holes in my flower garden.

In this example, one or more items in the list contains internal punctuation. If we were to use a comma after “cat” and “furniture”, it would be difficult to figure out where each part of the list ended. The semicolon therefore takes the place of the serial comma.

You can put a colon at the start of the list to flag it’s coming (so, in this case, after “likes”), but it isn’t required unless the list breaks out over several lines. That’s not the sort of thing you’ll be doing in a novel, but you may do it in a minute or academic text.

My dog likes:

* running, especially after the neighbour’s cat;

* scratching me, himself and the furniture; and

* digging holes in my flower garden.

(Bloody dog.)

The other time a semicolon is used is to join two clauses that could otherwise be written as complete sentences (“independent clauses”). You might want to do this if the two ideas are linked in some way—either contrasting or supplementing each other.

I say aluminium; you say aluminum.

My dog has no tail; we call him Stumpy.

Semicolons are awesome; I use them a lot.

If one of the clauses is a fragment, a semicolon is not correct. Likewise, you don’t need a semicolon if the second clause begins with a conjunction (and, but, for, nor, or, yet, so), even if the clause is otherwise independent. Use a comma instead.

Stumpy smells bad, but we still love him.

I love coffee, so I cried when we ran out.

But (and bear with me here) if the second clause starts with a conjunctive adverb such as however or therefore—or a transitional phrase such as of course—a semicolon should be used before it and a comma after.

(Interestingly, Wikipedia says not to use the comma after a conjunctive adverb if the adverb is only one syllable, like thus. Ok, maybe that’s only interesting to me. Wake up, you!)

Stumpy smells bad; however, we still love him.

I drank all the coffee; of course, she’ll never prove it!

I am allergic to cats; thus I don’t mind when Stumpy chases them away.

Now, I had someone on Twitter (who shall not be named) tell me he’d been told semicolons were a redundant form of punctuation, and that therefore he doesn’t use them. It’s true that, outside of complex lists, there’s nothing a semicolon does that a full stop doesn’t achieve—if all you’re after is a correctly punctuated sentence. But, to my mind, being able to link ideas gives a writer an additional tool to add nuance to their work. Unless you’re writing picture books or instruction manuals, why wouldn’t you embrace that?

And thus endeth the lesson. I hope this makes sense, random Googler, should you ever return.


Querying your book: tips and a glossary of terms.

If you haven’t yet entered the query trenches (or hopped on the query treadmill), you may not be familiar with the terms that get used on literary agents’ websites and places like Twitter to describe the things a writer might be asked to provide. (From what I’ve seen, these terms are also used by publishers, but my experience is primarily with agents so your mileage may vary.)

Here’s a quick breakdown of the ones I’ve encountered:

Query. This is a short letter (no more than one page in Word, single spaced), that contains two to three paragraphs about your story, as well as the title, genre and word count rounded to the nearest thousand. It also has a paragraph detailing any previous publishing credits or other experience that you may have. Some agents say that if you don’t have any publishing credits, you can also talk here about your passion for the genre, why you’ve written that particular story—that sort of thing.

Don’t include how long it took you to write the novel. If the timeframe is too short it flags a lack of editing; if it’s too long the book looks overcooked.

The story paragraphs should read like a blurb on the back of a book; they should showcase your manuscript’s voice and tell the agent who the main character is, their age if it’s a middle grade or young adult book, and the conflict or challenges they face. The goal is to hook the agent, make them want to read more. The paragraphs shouldn’t provide an outline of the story—that’s what the synopsis is for. But make sure you write them in the third person, even if your story is in the first person; I’ve seen a lot of agents talk on Twitter about not liking first person queries from the main character’s point of view. (Save your first person for the other paragraphs of the query.)

You can see Jay Kristoff’s successful query letter here. And for a great guide to writing the story paragraphs, check out this blog.

Pages. Some agents ask for the first few pages of your manuscript with the query, or after receiving the query and liking it. The magic number is usually five or ten pages. I always assume they mean double spaced unless they say otherwise.

Synopsis. This is a document that actually outlines the story. Most agents give you one to two pages (here I assume single spaced unless they say otherwise), but I’ve seen some ask for three paragraphs or 300 words. It’s a good idea to prepare a longer version and a shorter one so you’re ready for either.

Partial. This is a certain number of chapters or pages (50 pages, usually double spaced, seems to be common)—it’s what an agent usually asks for if they’ve read your pages, query and/or synopsis and want to see more.

Full.  Unsurprisingly, this is when the agent asks to see the full manuscript. If you get to this stage, high five! Even if they don’t offer to represent you in the end, you’ve still got some game. Double spaced is definitely the go here, unless they say otherwise.

R&R. This is a “revise and resubmit”—the phrase they use to describe the fact they like it, but have ideas for changes to the manuscript they’d like to see before they offer to represent you. You don’t have to do the changes, obviously, but if you don’t then you’re still looking for an agent. It’s your call.

Some basic rules of thumb for querying include:

Always check the agent’s website and follow their submission guidelines. In multi-agent agencies, make sure you pick the agent who is looking for your genre and otherwise seems to be the best fit. Many have blogs and Twitter accounts where you can investigate further. You only get one shot at each agency with each manuscript, so choosing the right agent is vital.

Don’t send unrequested attachments. Almost all agents want the requested materials at the query stage to be pasted into the body of an email to avoid viruses. If you send an attachment without being specifically asked to, you’ll almost certainly have your email deleted unread.

Be professional. You’re asking someone to represent you in what is, at the end of the day (and as much as we writers hate to admit it), a business endeavour. If they like your work but you come across as rude, pushy or precious, they won’t want to take a chance on you. If they say they don’t want to represent you, don’t do your nut at them. The best response is to not reply at all, but if you do, be polite and professional. Their rejection of your work is never personal.

Happy querying, and good luck!


Keeping your characters in line (reblog)

Suse suffers from impudent characters too, although hers are even more out of control than mine! o.O

Suse Michelle's avatarAussie Writers

imagesCAJCMQ5Q

(Source) 

Impossible? I used to think so.

I know that my characters tend to just do whatever they please, whether I like them to or not. I’ve even tried punishing some of them to try and pull them back into line, but I’ve discovered that, in so doing, I have just managed to make them even more rebellious. Whether I drown them, or break their hearts, give them heart attacks or other near death experiences I still have not been able to get them to understand that I am in charge. I am the boss, the authority. I brought them into this world, and I can take them out of it dangnabbit!

And this is only for the characters in one manuscript!

If you are anything like me (and I know there are a few of you out there) you’ll likely have more than one MS on the go at…

View original post 411 more words


Muses and impudent characters (and bears, oh my!)

I always thought writers who talked about their muses as though they were people were being self-indulgent, using some of that artistic license that is one of the tools of the trade. In “On Writing” (yes, I go on about that book—I just re-read it over the break), Stephen King describes his muse as follows:

“He lives in the ground. He’s a basement kind of guy. You have to descend to his level, and once you get down there you have to furnish an apartment for him to live in. You have to do all the grunt labor, in other words, while the muse sits and smokes cigars and admires his bowling trophies and pretends to ignore you.” (The full quote is here.)

https://i0.wp.com/upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/76/Gustave_Moreau_-_H%C3%A9siode_et_la_Muse.jpg

“Hésiode et la Muse” by Gustave Moreau. I’m pretty sure that translates to “My Muse is a Bit of a Cow”. (Image from Wikipedia Commons.)

I’ve seen my stories take unexpected turns—but I thought it was just that, as you were writing, you saw better options.

Then two experiences changed my mind.

The first was when, more than halfway through drafting my previous novel, there was an entirely unplanned kiss between two characters. One of them did something a little bit clever that the other didn’t see coming, and the other, in an excess of exuberance, gave the first a hug that suddenly got all romantic.

This was particularly awkward given that the kissee had a significant other.

I knew the kisser was interested, of course. But I never in a million years thought he’d make the first move. SURPRISE!

The other instance was more recently. Some of you may recall me having a whinge about not knowing which novel idea I wanted to pursue next: the fantasy (fully plotted out) or the urban fantasy (no plot whatsoever). I’d decided on the fantasy; I borrowed books to do research, so I could start my world-building, and was all good to go. Excited, even.

Then, one day driving home from work, I had the basic plot structure for the urban fantasy land in my head like someone had dropped a load of bricks on the car. I lay up half that night thinking about it. I couldn’t let it go for days, walking around like I was sleepwalking (I probably was, given the laying up all night!).

It only stopped when I gave in and started the other manuscript instead.

My conclusion from all of this is that my muse, whoever she is, isn’t a bloke smoking cigars in a basement. I don’t know where she lives or what she looks like, but she wears combat boots (for stompin’ ideas into my recalcitrant head) and probably has a battered and super-trashy novel featuring a love triangle tucked under one arm.

The bitch!

Is your muse personified? Has he or she pulled stunts like this on you?


An Ode to a Semicolon

I said yesterday I’d written a poem about semicolons once. It was called “An Ode to a Semicolon”, and I wrote it back in my crazy university days. I was such a party animal.

Unfortunately the original version has been lost to the dusts of time, but I’ve had a go at recreating it (the second verse is new) for your reading pleasure.

And so you can all mock me. 😉

Little punctuation mark,
Seldom ever used,
Rarely used correctly,
Oftenest abused.

Paired up with a bracket,
You’re a winking face,
But as a punctuation mark
You’re losing your place.

Sometimes you’re like a comma,
To break up complex lists—
The use of semicolons
Oftentimes assists.

Sometimes, you’re like a full stop
But gentler than he
Oh, little semicolon,
You have a friend in me!

Edit: If you want a proper description of how to use a semicolon, I’ve written one here.