Author Archives: jmdattilo
Never Moon an Editor
If you ever want a good laugh get a bunch of authors together to talk about rejection letters. Over the past few weeks we have encountered other authors at various functions and heard rejection stories so silly, we just have to share them.
One author related that an editor told her that the genre her book fell into was saturated. We giggled when we heard this. Did it mean the genre needed no more books? Was it simply too full? Did he honestly believe that no one anywhere, ever would buy another book in this genre? For that matter, we wondered just how full does a genre have to be before it is considered saturated? How many titles? And just who decides that a genre can hold no more?
And then there was the author who spoke on the phone to an editor who ripped the author’s book to pieces. It was too long, it was badly written, the plot was weak, it was simply the worst mystery story ever written. The author was puzzled. He had submitted a fantasy story.
Another author, who happened to be attending a book conference, was told during the course of the day by various editors that his book was too long, too short, too edgy, not edgy enough, too dark, too light, too slow, too fast-paced, not original enough, and (you guessed it), so different that it defied genres and would, in consequence, be too hard to sell. Apparently, that plain old genre known as “fiction” wasn’t good enough.
We, too, have had our share of silly rejections, but the best was the editor who read three pages of our book and encountered a description of a planet that had two moons. He immediately ceased reading and wrote us a letter stating that he NEVER published books with planets that had two moons. As soon as he saw the two moons, he knew he would dislike the rest of the story. To this day, we fondly relate this tale as the time an editor rejected us because we mooned him.
13 Pieces of Advice for Writers
A couple of blogs ago, we asked, “Why do writers write?”. During our search for the answer, we accumulated other bits of wisdom from authors past and present. Here’s a sampling of advice that falls under the “how-to-write” category.
1. There’s nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein. ~Walter Wellesley “Red” Smith
2. I try to leave out the parts that people skip. ~Elmore Leonard
3. Substitute “damn” every time you’re inclined to write “very;” your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be. ~Mark Twain
4. Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth
5. The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug. ~Mark Twain
6. Be obscure clearly. ~E.B. White
7. …a writer is working when he’s staring out of the window. ~Burton Rascoe
8. The best time for planning a book is while you’re doing the dishes. ~Agatha Christie
9. Write your first draft with your heart. Re-write with your head. ~From the movie Finding Forrester
10. The best style is the style you don’t notice. ~Somerset Maugham
11. I’m not a very good writer, but I’m an excellent rewriter. ~James Michener
12. Don’t get it right, just get it written. ~James Thurber
13. There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are. ~W. Somerset Maugham
The Scale of the Universe
Today’s blog has been preempted by a presentation too good to miss. If you’ve ever wondered about the vastness of the universe and Earth’s place in it, click this link: http://primaxstudio.com/stuff/scale_of_universe/
Why Do Writers Write? 16 Reasons.
We often get asked, “Why do you write?” The question seems simple but the answer isn’t. It made us curious about what other authors had to say on the subject.
1. Writing is a way of talking without being interrupted. ~Jules Renard
2. Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. ~E.L. Doctorow
3. Writing became such a process of discovery that I couldn’t wait to get to work in the morning: I wanted to know what I was going to say. ~Sharon O’Brien
4. If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad. ~Lord Byron
5. The good writing of any age has always been the product of someone’s neurosis, and we’d have a mighty dull literature if all the writers that came along were a bunch of happy chuckleheads. ~William Styron
6. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand. ~George Orwell
7. Books want to be born: I never make them. They come to me and insist on being written, and on being such and such. ~Samuel Butler
8. I want to write books that unlock the traffic jam in everybody’s head. ~John Updike
9. I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear. ~Joan Didion
10. My stories run up and bite me on the leg-I respond by writing down everything that goes on during the bite. When I finish, the idea lets go and runs off. ~Ray Bradbury
11. Writing is one of the few professions in which you can psychoanalyse yourself, get rid of hostilities and frustrations in public, and get paid for it. ~Octavia Butler
12. Writing is the supreme solace. ~W. Somerset Maugham
13. Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation. ~Graham Greene
14. The easy answer is that writing novels is a lot more fun than practicing law. ~
Jeffery Deaver
15. The only reason for being a professional writer is that you can’t help it. ~Leo Rosten
16. Why do writers write? Because it isn’t there. ~Thomas Berger
If anyone knows the answer to this age old question, let us know.
The Seven Stages of Writing
1. Inspiration. You have a great idea for a book. You love it. You know everyone else will love it, too. You can’t wait to start writing. You begin to make notes. On your brown lunch bag. On napkins. On little sticky notes.
2. Frenzy. You start writing. Every spare moment, you’re at the computer. The words are flowing so freely, you can’t type fast enough. You write anywhere, any time you can. On your brown lunch bag. On napkins. On little sticky notes.
3. Doubt. The plot isn’t turning out exactly the way you thought it would. (Where is that sticky note with the great plot twist…?) The characters are, perhaps, not quite right. Maybe the pacing is too slow? Perhaps the ending is a bit predictable? Perhaps… maybe…
4. Anger. Oh, crap. This plot problem is insurmountable. You can’t figure out how to end the chapter you are working on. You’re over your word count. Your characters just aren’t behaving. Your sticky notes are wadded into a giant sticky note ball. Banging your head on the desk doesn’t help.
5. Exhaustion. You feel this damn book will never be finished. You type grimly with fingers made of lead. Each word is drawn slowly and painfully from your beleaguered brain. You know you will never have another creative idea as long as you live. The sticky note ball is in the trash.
6. Acceptance. It’s done. You sigh with the relief of a mother who has just given birth. You even retrieve the sticky note ball from the trash and untangle the pages. After all, you never know. You drift off peacefully to sleep. And dream…
7. Déjà vu. See stage one.
Laundry and Illiteracy
We were sorting the wash the other day and came across some new clothing that we thought might require hand washing or perhaps should not go into the dryer. So we did what we have done for years and looked for the washing instructions on the label.
And got a big surprise.
There were not any written instructions on any of the garments. Instead, obscure little symbols were printed on the minuscule tags. Being possessed of curiosity, we fetched a magnifying glass and peered at the strange markings.
We began guessing what the symbols might mean. The circle with the X, we understood to mean we should not do something. However, what the something was eluded us. Should the item not go into the washer? The dryer? Did it mean no bleach? Just what does a circle stand for in laundry-speak?
The triangle had two diagonal lines slanting through it. Interesting. The square had a circle and a dot in it. Fascinating. The trapezoid-like picture had a line drawn beneath. Incredible. But not very helpful.
Taking to our computer (an interesting new tool for doing the laundry), we looked up the mysterious markings. And got another surprise. On the textileaffairs.com website there were thirty-five separate symbols for laundry instructions.
Feeling like we were on a treasure hunt, we began to match the online symbols to the ones on our clothing tags. At last, we deciphered the instructions. Machine wash cold, permanent press. Non-chlorine bleach. Tumble dry low heat. Success! We could continue with the laundry!
We printed out a copy of the symbols and taped it to the washer, feeling a little like tourists in a foreign country with a tiny phrase book to help us learn the language. We wondered why written instructions have vanished. Were the symbols deemed quicker and easier to read? (Using the term “read” in the loosest sense, of course.) Did the creators of these new laundry pictograms believe the symbols were self-explanatory? Do they take up less space? Are they supposed to be easily understood by anyone, anywhere, at any time?
Back to the computer for enlightenment. One site claimed “Symbols and visual cues are widely used today to present information in a simple, straightforward manner. They are more effective than words because they are more quickly interpreted and can overcome language barriers.” Simple, maybe, but straightforward? More quickly interpreted? Yes, if you have a computer handy. Overcome language barriers? We’d like to take our laundry symbols on a world tour and see how many people understand them.
Another site suggested that symbols convey basic information more rapidly than words. We suppose this might be true if the population was well-schooled in pictograms. However, we doubt this is so and do not even know if there is a standard for pictograms world-wide. A world tour definitely seems necessary to discover the truth. Can you picture us traveling with nothing more than pictograms? (Oh, this man with us? No, he’s not an interpreter. He’s a cartoonist and draws the fastest pictograms in the world.)
Whatever the reasons, we miss written words. Words convey instruction, ideas and a clarity that pictograms do not. In fact, if memory serves, the ancient Egyptians used pictograms, a form of writing they abandoned as soon as something less cumbersome made its appearance. It seems we’ve come full circle, but going in circles is not the same as moving forward.
More and more, our society seems to be using symbols to communicate, perhaps because 14% of Americans are functionally illiterate (as reported by the National Center for Educational Statistics). Doors, trash bins, elevators, bathrooms and many other things are now all marked with pictures instead of words. Whether this is seen as a necessity because of the high illiteracy rates plaguing our country or an attempt to make communication easier, we don’t know, but using pictures rather than teaching people to read seems more like a bandage than a cure.
Oh, the circle with the X through it? Do not dry clean. And we wonder, if the functionally illiterate can’t understand the symbol, just how are they going to look it up?
A Time’s Edge Sampler: Do You Believe in Fate?
An excerpt from Time’s Edge, Chapter Two: Do You Believe in Fate?
ON THE THIRD floor of the same building, Professor Albert Artolli paused outside the closed door of his office. Light was glowing beneath the bottom of the door.
It was after four o’clock on a Friday, a time when the science hall was usually deserted. He eyed the door, realizing there were only a few possible explanations for a light being on in his office at that hour, none of which he particularly liked. No one should have been in his office, unless…
The professor thoughtfully stroked his beard, staring at his reflection in the dark glass of the door. Gray steaks ran through his brown hair and beard, and his blue eyes were framed by wire-rimmed glasses. He knew his old-fashioned vest and jacket made him look like a professor from one hundred years earlier. He smiled slightly and grasped the doorknob.
The professor opened the door abruptly, drawing a startled exclamation from the young woman who sat at a desk in the office.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said in relief.
“Who were you expecting? A monster?” the professor asked sharply. He wasn’t particularly pleased to see her there.
“No, not a monster, exactly.” She looked at him with a frown, wondering, he knew, about the tone of voice he had used. He sighed and shut the door.
“Kate, what are you still doing here?” he asked.
“I’m finishing some reports for Dr. Riley.” She gave him that I-have-a-feeling-you’re-up-to-something-look he knew so well. “What are you doing here?”
“I left some files here that I want to work on this weekend.” He headed toward his desk. “Fortunately, I remembered them before I left campus.”
Her dubious look told him she didn’t entirely believe his tale.
He sighed again. Kate had been his secretary for the past six years. She worked for him full-time and went to college part-time. She was now twenty-four years old and in her senior year, a beautiful woman with dark brown hair falling in waves over her shoulders and large eyes of an unusual color—not quite blue, not quite green, but a bright shade that was a combination of the two. He had known her since she was a baby and often felt she was his own daughter. Unfortunately, that meant she also knew a lot about him, such as the fact that he generally didn’t come back to the office on a Friday afternoon.
“I had a hunch you might still be here,” he began, deciding that an offensive approach would bring him less trouble than explanations. “You should have left here over an hour ago.”
“I hate the thought of leaving unfinished work,” she replied. “I’m not doing anything tonight, and I prefer to keep busy.” Then she shrugged. “Besides, I felt I should stay.”
The professor shot her a sharp glance. He had not missed the significance of her remark. “Is something wrong?”
She said slowly, “Do you believe in fate, Al?”
He raised his eyebrows. “That depends on what you mean by fate.”
“Do you think some things are meant to be? That some people are destined to do certain things or to meet each other?”
The professor sat down in his chair, frowning slightly as he weighed the question.
“Fate, as you called it, isn’t carved in stone,” he said at last. “Everyone has a destiny, but how they fulfill it is their choice. Some even choose not to fulfill their fate.”
“How can you escape fate?”
“Because fate doesn’t really exist. No one is fated to do anything. Everyone simply makes choices.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I do believe everyone has a greater purpose or destiny. But that isn’t fate. It’s not certain. You can choose to walk away from your fate.”
“Then why don’t more people do that? Why do people accept their lot?”
“It’s easier,” the professor said with half a smile. “Making a choice is often difficult and many fear to make the wrong one.”
“So they make none?”
“Yes. But that in itself is a choice.”
“I see.” She pondered for a moment. “But accidents happen. There are things that aren’t choices but random events, and they affect your life. Isn’t that fate?”
“No. They are, as you said, random events that are the result of a choice or, perhaps, many choices. They may not even be your choices, but they can affect you nonetheless. No one lives in a vacuum. We all affect each other by our actions.” He eyed her curiously. “Why the sudden concern about fate?”
Kate stared down at her desk for a moment. Then she raised her head and looked directly at him. “Something is coming. I know it.”
He nodded as if she had said the most ordinary thing in the world.
Writer’s Block
Okay. We’re sitting here staring at a blank page wondering how to write the next chapter in our book. The page is staring blankly back at us. Not a thing is coming to mind. (Or in our case, minds.) We look at each other, hoping for that most elusive of all writing tools. Inspiration.
What to do when inspiration packs its bags and heads for the door? This is the nemesis of every writer we have ever spoken to or read about. The dreaded brick wall that brings all writing to a halt and leaves even the most intrepid authors with the feeling they will never have another creative thought in this lifetime.
How can two writers fall victim to this malaise at the same time? Shouldn’t one of us be bursting with ideas even if the other is having, what is euphemistically termed, an off day? Here’s the awful truth: Writer’s block can be contagious.
Nothing is more discouraging than a writer with tons of ideas who runs smack up against a writer who is suffering from a full-blown case of writer’s block. Here’s an example.
ANNOYING WRITER: (Bouncing into the room.) All we all set write?
CRABBY WRITER: (Giving Annoying Writer a look that should have caused a quick retreat.) Sure.
ANNOYING WRITER: I can’t wait to begin. I’ve got this great idea for that scene we’ve been stuck on. I know just how to fix it! It’ll be great. You see the 7-foot tall monster is really not a monster at all but a nice guy who is just doing his job. What do you think?
CRABBY WRITER: (Closing eyes against the sight of so much enthusiasm.) Swell.
ANNOYING WRITER: Don’t you like it?
CRABBY WRITER: It won’t work.
ANNOYING WRITER: Why not? It’s perfect! You see, the monster looks scary but is really…
CRABBY WRITER: I know. But it won’t work.
ANNOYING WRITER: What’s wrong with it?
CRABBY WRITER: We need the monster to attack the hero. (Pointedly.) Remember?
ANNOYING WRITER: Oh. Um. Yeah. But…
CRABBY: WRITER: There’s supposed to be a battle. (Pointedly.) Remember?
ANNOYING WRITER: Oh. Um. Yeah. But…
CRABBY WRITER: It’s a key element of the plot. (Very pointedly.) REMEMBER?
ANNOYING WRITER: Well, yeah, but I thought…
CRABBY WRITER: If we make the monster a nice guy, we’d have to rewrite the entire chapter. The monster would have to show up and then back off and the hero would be left wondering… Hmmm.
LESS ANNOYING WRITER: Yeah. I see your point.
LESS CRABBY WRITER: Actually, if the monster did that it would create a little mystery.
HARDLY ANNOYING ANYMORE WRITER: Maybe.
HARDLY CRABBY ANYMORE WRITER: We could leave it hanging and then have the monster unexpectedly show up in a later chapter and explain what happened.
BECOMING CRABBY WRITER: Explain what happened? Why should he do that?
BECOMING ANNOYING WRITER: Because it turns out he’s really a nice guy who’s just doing his job.
NEWLY CRABBY WRITER: I thought you said that wouldn’t work!
NEWLY ANNOYING WRITER: Why not? I think it’s a great idea!
And so round and round we go.
Is there a cure for writer’s block? Sure. There are any number of suggestions on the web and in books for breaking the block. Try a change of scenery. Switch to brainstorming. Take a walk. Learn to crochet. Any one of these ideas might work. Once, at least. However, the single best method that we’ve found for getting out of writer’s block is to write. Seriously. Write. Anything. Just start. Who cares if it’s bad? Who cares if it doesn’t make sense? Just spit it out. Force yourself. Yes, we can already hear the writing gurus screaming. But this works for us. We don’t necessarily keep what we write this way, but it gets us unstuck without fail. Once we get the bad stuff out of the way, the blockage loosens and the good stuff can come through.
So what happens when we both are just bursting with great ideas? Two annoying writers, of course. Our family members may avoid us, but we’re both as happy as we can be wallowing in over-enthusiasm and excitement and the thrill of creating.
Multitasking for Writers
We’re all so busy these days. Computers, cell phones, social networking and all the endless gadgets of “convenience” have contrived to make our lives busier than ever. So, how do two hard-working authors find the time to write? Multitasking, that wonderful, terrible word that popped into existence approximately when all the time-saving gadgets began to appear.
Can you remember an era when we all only did one task at a time before moving on to the next? No, we can’t either. In fact, the only time when we’re not multitasking is when we’re sleeping and even then, before we fall asleep, we lie in bed planning our next day, plotting a new chapter, squeezing every last ounce of productivity out of the day before we close our eyes.
How can we write while doing other things? Isn’t that sort of complicated? Difficult? Downright impossible? Well, it depends on what part of the writing process we happen to be engaged in. The actual sit-down-at-the-computer-and-type part requires total concentration. We simply can’t multitask while writing a new scene and if any authors can, we’d like to meet them and learn their secrets. In our house a sure way to endanger your life is to interrupt the person who is in the middle of writing a chapter.
However, there is more to writing than just writing. Plotting, character development, creating interesting new places and beings, and coming up with made-up words to describe things that don’t exist anywhere else but in our imaginations are some of things we group under the activity we call writing. And these things, thankfully, can be done while working on something else.
For instance, we recently painted our living room, which could have been a drag, but actually provided us with large chunks of time to work on the book and kept us from getting snippy about all the work we had to do. Brainstorming new plot ideas took the place of berating each other about how the room should have been repainted five years ago. Creating a few new characters distracted from the klutzy one who kept spilling the paint. Deciding when and how to reveal the secrets hinted at in Time’s Edge was a welcome change from the one who who kept whining about sore arms and hands. All in all, multitasking was a lifesaver.
And take this winter. We live in New England. The first snowstorm hit December 26th (see our blog How to Write a Book During a Blizzard) and it pretty much snowed every week for the rest of the season. This meant we spent any spare time we had shoveling snow into drifts that rapidly became taller than we were. Instead of allowing this to eat up our writing time, we multitasked and discussed the book while shoveling. We solved a lot of plot problems and built up our muscles at the same time. The only downside was the odd looks we got from the neighbors when they overheard us talking about what to call a six-legged, lizard-type creature that has long claws and venom in its fangs. They must think we have a new exotic pet because none of them have dropped by for a visit since.
Of course, we multitask out of necessity, not for a love of it. There are days when we yearn nostalgically for the slowness of times past. No cell phones, no Internet, not even an answering machine for the phone. Ah, to have peace and freedom from instant connections, statistics, and promotions. To be able to sit back and let the world go by and just write while the only multitasking to be done is to make the tea when the kettle whistles. Paradise.
Statistics, The Curse of Social Networking
Everywhere you go these days the unending varieties of social networking sites provide an equally unending stream of information. And the stats to go with them.
It’s all too easy to get obsessed by statistics. You start out with your very first page. The site very helpfully provides information about how your page is doing, how many people have visited, how many have left comments or liked your page. Instant feedback. How nice! And at first it’s fun. Look! We had ten visitors! Ten! Isn’t that amazing? Ten more people now know about us! (And then you learn that the ten were your parents, siblings and a cousin, the one you can’t stand.)
You then begin to worry. Why only ten? We have to do better. You scan other pages, looking at the hundreds and thousands of fans and comments they have. How in the world does L.L. Bean do it? What does Madonna have that we don’t? Gee, Stephen King only has to write the first few pages of a new novel and the world beats a path to his page. You read other blogs, trying to fathom the mysterious secret, the magic combination that sets them apart and earns them such avid readership.
Well, you decide, if they can do it so can we. You try to determine how to get the most hits. What brings people to your page? What gets the most likes and comments? You experiment, try new things and often end up scratching your head at what works and what doesn’t. (Like the time we simply could not think of anything to blog about so we quickly wrote a spoof of A Visit from St. Nicholas which we called Twas the Night We Were Blogging. It has been our most popular blog to date. Go figure!)
Soon you are checking your stats daily. Are they up? Hooray! Down? Oh, no! Unchanged? WHY? Is the darn site glitching again? You start questioning yourself. Wondering. Worrying. Trying to come up with something new, something entertaining, something… Well, if we knew what the magical something was, we’d do it! And you still keep anxiously watching those stats.
It is not long before you are sneaking peeks at your stats a few times a day. Just a quick look. Just want to see if we’re doing better/worse/the same than we were this morning/this afternoon/this evening/ten minutes ago. Any new fans on Facebook? 55? Yea! We got a new one. You dance an Irish jig around the office until your significant other comes in and says that you already had 55 fans. You insist it was only 54. And you spend the next half hour arguing over that one fan, who is probably your cousin, the one you dislike.
Book sales are the worse type of all the stats. The figures change hourly. You can be selling in the top 2% one hour and drop down to 10% in the next. It’s worse than watching the stock market and just as unpredictable. When your sales are soaring you wonder (amid the cheering and fist-pumping) just why the world has suddenly flocked to your book. Was it the blog? Did they see the trailer on youtube? Perhaps it was the promotion on Goodreads? Just what in the world did we do to make this happen and how can we keep doing it? Unfortunately, when sales are dropping, you wonder the same things, in reverse. Didn’t anyone read the bog? Can’t they find the trailer on youtube? Is the Goodreads promotion just not enough? What in the world did we do to make this happen and how can we stop doing it?
Statistics obsession eventually reaches a peak. After the roller coaster of ups and downs, you chill out, knowing that your rankings can and will change at the drop of a hat for reasons unknown. It could be the phase of the moon. Or the stars might not be in the right position. Or perhaps your cousin, the one you dislike, has a big mouth and a lot of friends, which, for once, has worked to your advantage. Or maybe, just maybe, it was that last blog/Facebook post/book trailer/promotion that did it this time. Hmm. Perhaps we should check those stats again and try to figure it out…
J.M. Dattilo 