Friday, July 13, 2012

More Really Bad Writing Advice

Having succeeded beyond my wildest expectations with my initial foray into Really Bad Writing Advice (e.g. there were comments none of which employed the phrase “you mean-spirited bitch”) I have decided to sally forth into the realm of even worse advice.

Here goes.

Dear Clueless One,
I have just finished my stand-alone historical fantasy in which pirates and mermaids team up to change the course of the Russian Revolution using only their wits, rusty sabers and sex appeal.

Beyond its obvious appeal in raising deep, philosophical questions about Communism, this book is the manifestation of my personal crusade against boring, lazy writing, taking aim at that infinitely overused phrase, “he said.” I am proud to tell you that I never once use “he said” in my book, ferreting out compelling facsimiles such as: 
  • he wholeheartedly yet heartrendingly exclaimed with a plaintive naivete that could draw tears from a mashed turnip, could they have obtained turnips, which they couldn’t because they were pirates who had been at sea for a really, really long time; 
  • she bellowed with the steely yet ladylike determination of sinuous seaweed that now overflowed the banks of the Moskva River with rampant yet implausible abandon; 
  • and the simple yet elegant *he ejaculated truculently.”
Noting that you used the phrase “she said” 2,914 times in your last – and might I point out only—novel, will you reform and join my Crusade? 
Signed, Crusader


To which I reply:

Dear Crusader,
Sure. Why not? The plot of what was supposed to be my next book just imploded and I’m not in a good mood. Indeed, the prospect of committing writing suicide sounds quite alluring. Let’s all hold hands and jump. Off the gangplank. Into the depths of the seaweed-riddled Moskva River. She agreed with crazed alacrity. 
Best, 
Clueless

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Really Bad Writing Advice


Hi Gang,

Having noted that the internet is loaded with fabulous, and, all right, possibly a tiny bit of less fabulous, writing advice, I have decided that the moment is ripe for someone to start handing out really bad writing advice.

In the self-promotional vein, I am thinking that not only will I be able to corner the market on appalling directions for would-be novelists, but that this will go a long way toward winning awards as really bad branding too!!!

I’m so excited.

Anyway, here is wee sample of the misguided pap that I plan to send into cyberspace for all eternity:
Dear Clueless One, 
Because there are no good books out there for teen readers, I have taken it upon myself to write a uniquely superb (and also uniquely long) trilogy with magic elf robots who save the world, reinstitute the meaning of Christmas, and also promote dental hygiene. I am calling it “The Dental Floss Games.” Get it? 
Is 895 pages too long for the first book in the trilogy? Also, I’m not completely sure of how the first book ends, so I decided that that would be a good cliffhanger. My know-it-all critique group is being very negative, but this is all right, right? 
Signed, 
Whiny Genius


To which I reply:

Dear Whiny, 
No and yes. I think. Or maybe yes and no. Or possibly, oh my God, no! I guess what I’m saying here is that you should just follow your own inner voice, no matter how long-winded. Ignore the advice of others; you should only be around positive people who support your dream.

Also, after 895 pages of magic elves with pristine gums, your readers will be so damned glad to reach the ending that they won’t actually care about the ending. 
Love, 
Clueless

You too can send writing questions great and small to the Clueless One. Really stupid questions are particularly appreciated, but I guess that an intelligent question would be OK too, if you insist. I'm at ann@annstampler.com.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Romancing the Rewrite


(in which I reveal the downside of wandering through the thicket of the narrator’s outpourings sans outline, just in case there’s anyone on the planet besides me who hadn’t already figured this out)

Whenever anyone asks me about writing, and my process, and turning out prose, I tend to support chaos. I tend to jump around insisting that there is no one true way to go about this. If you like to outline, I cry, outline! If you like to write mostly at 4 a.m. while sobbing and exploring your inner angst, go for it! If you get up at 6 a.m. and have a cup of Earl Gray tea with clover honey, after which you sit in your office writing 1250 words before lunch, when you take a run through the woods with your Brittany spaniel, go you!

The problems with this non-system are not immediately evident when writing picture books, probably because I can keep a whole PB in my head as I work. But with novels, there’s an element of whoopsie upon seeing the first draft. The first draft of the novel I just sent off to my agent 9 days ago was an enormous, lumbering tome.

It weighed in at 107,000 words, and not because it was a multi-generational saga spanning several continents and two centuries.

Nope, it just had thousands and thousands of words of subplots and back story and really cool characters who didn’t actually belong in the book. People quote Faulkner’s, “Kill you darlings,” when they talk about revision. I had to kill entire clans, tribes, and marauding hoards of darlings, pests, and downright pills.

The problem with killing, say, 30,000 words, is that even though those words involve completely ridiculous elements that don’t belong in the book, there is a whole lot of characterization in there. Bits and pieces that are relevant to the whole book are now discarded. Even though the story is way better without them, the characters now have missing pieces. The reader now has no idea how the characters react to large numbers of completely superfluous situations.

So then the whole book has to be rewritten and all of the remaining stuff has to be improved to convey all of the necessary elements now moldering in the 30,000 word trash bin. So I did. Over and over. It was torture.

All hail the outline! I swear to God, next time I’m going with one of those.

I'm Ba-a-a-a-a-a-a-ack!!!

I was about to post my new post when it hit me that probably when one disappears from one's blog for a meaningful period, one should say something about it upon one's return.

So, okay, I've been in a writing cave revising my new novel.  Which was so late.  My wonderful publisher even sent me the world's most gorgeous and evocative cover which has details that mirror the text (also, it glows) and I didn't have a book to put in it.

Which is to say, I had too much book.  More about that in my next post.

I sent the book off to my agent last week, and now I'm returning to normal life!  I'm going to BEA!  I'm signing my new picture book, The Wooden Sword (Albert Whitman, 2012) in the autographing area on Wednesday.  (If you're at BEA, do come say hi!) I'm no longer spending 14 hours a day on my couch, communing with my laptop and my dog. 

I'm back!