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FORGET THE MUSE


Today I wanted to talk about the process and act of writing. What I mean mainly by that is the simple craft of regularly putting pen to paper. As Stephen King famously said, “Amateurs wait for the muse to come. The rest of us get working.” That is so incredibly true. When I was a creative writing undergrad at San Francisco State University, like many young [writing] students, I thought that, when the ‘muse’ came, I could then write the Great American Novel.

Right?

The truth is—and any professional can affirm this—and I hate to break your heart here: There is no muse. The muse is like Santa Clause; it’s a hoax that we tell beginners to try and inspire them. Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. But at some point, if you take yourself seriously as a writer, you will have to let go of the Santa Clause effect, and sit down every day to write. No matter what.

The trick is to treat it like a job, which it is. For those of us who have actually made money from our writing (even if it’s just a little bit), you know. Editors, whether at magazines, lit journals, or in-house, demand speed. You need to get those edits done fast. And you need to put the proverbial pen to the page every day or close to it. It’s the regular practice of writing that makes you better. That and regular reading of other authors’ work.

I like authors like Harlan Coben and Stephen King, not because they’re famous, but because they criticize creative writing classes (including MFAs), writing critique groups, and the idea of The Muse. King states that he writes 4-6 hours every day. Now, I know, I know: He made a quarter of a million bucks off Carrie, his debut novel. That’s not fair: He has been able to write daily from the “beginning” because he wrote good, salable prose that had an audience. He was lucky enough to have had an agent and an in-house editor that recognized his talent and the potential audience. So he’s been able to live in luxury since that time, in terms of carving out time to write. Of course, he’s also had a wife and kids. And some could argue that the starving artist thing is actually helpful in terms of writing motivation: It keeps you hungry.

But I digress. I saw Harlan Coben speak at the Writers’ Digest conference in New York City back in early August, 2014. He knocked me sideways by suggesting, like King, that creative writing classes and critique groups actually often prevent you from doing the one thing you really need to do: lay down lots of prose. Whether the prose is of substance or not is really irrelevant at first. The point is to nail down that first draft. THEN, later, go back in and look at what you’ve got; edit, revise, rewrite, hand to beta readers, etc. King talks about reading first with your heart and then with your head.

In both cases, the authors’ say write a lot and read a lot; that is the key to success. Any professional will tell you this. And agents always say it doesn’t matter if you have an MFA or not. Check out the book MFA VS NYC edited by Chad Harbach.

In my own personal case, I write on average about five days a week. Sometimes more like six. Rarely every single day. But close. And I allow myself to GO when working on a new piece of fiction. For example, the other morning I woke up, showered, made tea, and sat down to write. In less than two hours, I had 4,600 words on the page. I think this is a pretty good story! Sure, it’s not going to pop out at the end perfect, finished, ready to publish. It’s going to need work, as all writing does. But the point is that I allowed myself time to just let it out. Tell your inner critic, your inner-editor to take a hike when you write. Later, when you’re in the editing process, then you can bring that inner critic out. But not before.

As a freelance book editor, one of the most common things I see are writers who can’t allow themselves to finish a book. They might have been chopping away at a novel for a year, two years, three. But they keep going back to chapter one, revising, changing, altering, etc. They keep moving the characters around. They keep getting conflicting feedback from their group. King says it should never take you longer than three months to write a first draft. Ok, again, accepting that he’s an extreme, I do think there’s still value in that idea. Just let it go. Find that two hour or three hour period everyday when you can allow yourself to write. Use that only to work on whatever piece you’re working on. Have a basic plot-outline done before you begin. You can veer off the grid anytime, but at least you have an idea of where you’re going. Then just type. Allow yourself to get into the groove. Before you know it, you’ll have a very unready, imperfect first draft. Then wait a while and go back to it in a few months, seeing all the plot-holes and character issues.

From there you’re on your way. It’s a process. Allowing yourself the right to write is a big part of the early stages of this career.

Good luck!

Write on.

"You said it. Let's edit."

Michael Mohr

I do developmental book editing. Right now I am—happily—booked solid until August. IF you want a free test edit now I can do that, but I’ll have to throw you in line for Aug. Cool with that? Have an adult novel (no sci-fi please) or memoir? Email me: michaelmohreditor@gmail.com.


ELLEN BROCK: ON FREELANCE BOOK EDITING


Ellen Brock—a freelance developmental and copy book editor like me—posted a blog article from September of last year about the seriousness of being a book editor. She talked about how it’s not about being a ‘passionate’ editor but rather a hardworking, logical one. She said: “When you go to a mechanic, you don’t expect them to fall in love with your car. And you’re not going to accuse the mechanic of being ‘terse,’ ‘cold,’ or ‘bitchy’ when he tells you that your car is totaled because you drove it into a brick wall. Mechanics tell the truth. Editors tell the truth. The real question is whether or not you’re ready to hear it.”

Now, I have only had one client who really got irritated at me for my edits. I had one other who was mildly irritated. I think that Brock is absolutely accurate. Writers—I am one—are very passionate, sensitive, intense, often misunderstood people. To sit down for months or even years and craft a full-length novel is, to say the least, hardcore. And it’s very lonely and quiet. It’s private. A book is your sweet baby.

When you then, as a writer, go and hand off your book to some book editor—some stranger, someone taking your money—it can be easy to take things personally. Do yourself a favor: don’t. I’ve been there. Man, I have heard writers—famous ones—tell me my writing basically sucks. Ok, maybe they didn’t literally say that. But it felt that way! And I did take it personally.

The truth is—as Brock so articulately testifies—a writer’s best friend is a serious, balls-to-the-wall, logical, objective book editor. For me, when I edit someone else’s book, I expect to give the same thing I expect to receive via an editor looking at my own book: total honesty. Brock mentions editors being like car mechanics. That’s true. We have the tools of objectivity and knowledge of the industry. Our goal is to point out what’s working and what’s not working in your novel.

I think, especially for newer, unpublished writers, it’s a very sticky thing to finish a book, have all your friends and family pat you on the back and be proud, and then hand it over to an editor who then goes to town on it and gives you criticism. Now, don’t get me wrong: There should ALWAYS be common respect given from editor to writer/author, and vice versa. Of course. There is never any reason to be rude, especially from the editor to the writer. It’s not personal.

But it IS the editor’s job to—like that mechanic—use their tools to point out the strengths and weaknesses. Are there obvious issues in terms of plot? Do we care about the protagonist and his/her journey? Are the characters relatable? Are there logic issues within the plot? Is there constant tension? Do you use effective cliff hangers to keep us reading? Is your story within a reasonable word count for your chosen genre? Is the book overall marketable/salable? Do you have a decent query? These questions could go on ad infinitum.

The point here is: Don’t hire an editor thinking you’re getting a champion of your work or a psychotherapist. You’re hiring a prose mechanic to help locate the weak spots in your novel and helping to alleviate the issues so your book can shine brightly.

The other thing is: know what kind of editing you want. If you don’t know, ask the editor. Most new writers with a first novel need developmental editing which is what I focus on. This looks at plot, pace, dialogue, character, logic issues, etc. Like I mentioned above. This zooms the literary camera out, so to speak, to see the greater picture. Later, after you’ve done revisions, you can talk about a copy/line edit.

If you’d like me to edit your novel or memoir, email me your query and first chapter (as attachments) to: michaelmohreditor@gmail.com. I can do a free 5-10 page test edit wherein you can decide if you’d like to hire me. I handle almost any type of novel other than children’s, middle-grade, Sci-fi or picture books. Currently I am backed up until late August. Formerly a literary agent’s assistant, I am also a published short story writer. My work can be found at Alfie Dog Press online. My stories are 66 cents each! I am available for developmental and copy editing. And remember: Treat your editors well! They work hard for you!

Write on!

“You said it. Let’s edit.”

Michael Mohr


THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN BY PAULA HAWKINS


I want to talk about the debut novel that was released in January, 2015, called THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN, by British author Paula Hawkins, because I think it highlights a few key points that I have been trying to make for ages.

For those of you who live on the moon or simply, for whatever reason, haven’t read the novel: go buy it. It’s not so much that it’s the best written book ever released (it’s very much not), but the plot will blow your mind. I’m not going to go over the plot but the basic gist is that a woman (the aforementioned “girl” referred to in the title) who takes the train into London every day watches a couple sitting on their terrace during her morning commute. One day she sees the woman with “another man,” and then soon after the woman goes missing and eventually ends up dead (partial spoiler alert; sorry). The woman riding the train—the protagonist—decides to tell the man about the woman having had an affair, and thus the suspense begins: she has become involved. The plot as they say “thickens” from there, big time.

Many of you who’re reading this blog post I am assuming have read the book. Here’s what I’d like to talk about. This, mind you, is a DEBUT novel, as in the author’s FIRST published book. Keep that in mind as I move on from here.

There are many things, many so-called “rules” that agents, editors, publishers, and [snobby] creative writing instructors will claim are “musts” in writing a “good” or “successful” novel. I put those words in quotes because, what the hell, really, do those words even mean in today’s market? But anyway: moving on.

  • Show don’t tell, especially with emotion. How many times have we been told by professionals in the field that it is imperative to “show” and not “tell,” especially when it comes to describing emotions from a character? Countless times. And I mentioned the fact that this novel is a debut because often the rebuff to this claim is that after the author has published they are then, to some degree, selling their “brand,” not their book. But this is a first novel so clearly no such thing applies. Hawkins tells us directly, with emotion especially, very directly, all throughout the novel. Here’s a quote from page 13: “I close my eyes and let the darkness grow and spread until it morphs from a FEELING OF SADNESS into something worse; a memory, a flashback.” There are literally dozens and dozens of such lines in the book, directly stating emotion. And you know what? For me it works. Obviously it works for others: it’s a #1 NYT bestseller! Direct words like ANGER, SHAME, SADNESS, ANGUISH, FEAR, etc, are plastered all over these pages. And yet pros will tell you never to directly name emotion; instead, SHOW us. The direct labeling of emotion happens not only in Hawkins’ book but in The Hunger Games, Anne Perry’s books, The Fault in our Stars, Ian McEwan books, and many others. It is not an aberration, an outlier. Don’t believe these lines exist throughout the book? Read it. See for yourself.

  • Back story (BS) that is told and not shown: Here’s another one we’re commonly told: When describing BS, always show a scene, never simply tell us what happened. Again, in many books—contemporary and older—including THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN, the author TELLS us the back story, instead of using a scene. And again: this works. I won’t use an example here because they’re too long, but page 2, page 8, page 56 (just to name a few of dozens) do this. I encourage you to check them out.

  • Never use the passive voice: Another common one, right? Never be passive; always be active. Say, “Tom runs to the store,” not “Tom WAS running to the store.” But this book is absolutely RIDDLED with passive voice. It’s virtually everywhere, splashed across the pages like the thrilling plot. (Also another common one I’ve heard is agents saying they hate the word “just.” This word, “just,” is used practically on every other page, often multiple times.)

  • Point of View: Many professionals will say be careful with POV, and try to stick with one POV if possible, especially for first-person, and especially ESPECIALLY for debut authors. Hawkins uses multiple POV and all from the first-person “I” perspective. This is well done and very hard to do.

What she does by the book that really works:

This book—again, while not the most well-written necessarily; the literary book snobs would likely agree—does fantastically well mainly in the plot and structure arena. Using multiple POV, from first-person, and using dates to place characters close or far from each other (it also helps the reader keep track of it all), is incredibly well done. The plot is insanely layered and complex, which of course is what you want. We turn the page because of this and also—and this is key as well—Hawkins makes us care about the characters. These are not the best, most ethical human beings. But then again: neither are most of us. We are all filled with dread and fear and lust and love and joy and compassion, often simultaneously. Hawkins nails this gritty reality to its core in a one-two punch that is irresistible and explicit. We can’t help but empathize and want to know that elusive READER QUESTION: what’s going to happen next?

She follows David Corbett’s (THE ART OF CHARACTER; www.davidcorbett.com) example: secrets, lies, contradictions, desire and yearning. Her characters are deep, three-dimensional, authentic-feeling, human in all the ways they can be. Too real, perhaps. And they lie and manipulate and cheat and use self-loathing and denial to not have to face their own pain: Hey: just like us! Every character in her novel is a liar to some degree; every character has secrets; and every character is basically pitted against another character. They all yearn for self-love and happiness and freedom in some manner, and none can fully achieve it without sacrificing some large part of their own soul. This, my friends, is “good” writing, or at least good storytelling, if you want to make the [oft made] distinction.

Another thing she does, and this makes the creative writing MFA instructors wet their little pretentious pants, is use good ole tried-and-true concrete details. Yup; the old formula of using little specific details to place the reader in the author’s (or narrator’s if you prefer) world, still works. Most often she rolls with smell, but she uses all the five senses without regret. “I can smell the aftershave under cigarette smoke and I know that I’ve smelled that scent before.” (Page 174.) “I can hear it guttering, smell the wax, feel the chill of the air around my neck and shoulders.” (Page 169.) Again, these are virtually everywhere in her book.

So, let’s recap. My point here wasn’t to degrade or condemn Paula Hawkins’ novel, or conversely to slam industry experts like agents, editors (I am a book editor myself), publishers or MFA teachers. I respect these professionals and I myself am currently trying to land an agent for my own suspense novel. (So far I have had six or seven published authors read part of it, including two NYT bestselling authors; all except one has referred me to their agent; I have not heard back yet but I’ll keep you updated!) And I really enjoyed THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN. I think it’s a fabulous thriller, a must-read. You can learn loads about plot, creating conflict and tension, authentic-sounding dialogue, concrete detail, solid structure, deep, well-developed characters you care about, how to devise a thrilling, mysterious, page-turning journey for the reader, and much, much more.

But my point, rather, is that, like human behavior, there is, in my opinion, much less to be said of the craft of writing other than some very basic notions and practice, practice, practice. You can sit there for 1,000 years not trying to submit your novel because you hear industry professionals say you need to do A, B or C in order to succeed. Never have your character look in a mirror. Never start your novel in a dream. Never tell back story or emotion directly; instead show it in a scene. And hundreds more like this. We’ve been told—or perhaps more aptly, brainwashed into believing—that there is only one way to “write a novel,” when in fact there are probably infinite ways. My take is this: No one, really, knows what the hell is going sell. At the end of the day, an agent can only recognize clear talent and a good story. The rest is up to readers and marketing. And really readers, more than anything else.

My overall message? Forget the long ago accepted “rules” of book writing. Get in there and find your regular writing routine. Write the best book you can, then hand it out to trusted friends who read your genre. Get feedback, rewrite, self-edit, revise, etc. Then hire an editor like me or Ellen Brock or Chuck Sambuchino, etc. Countless editors out there. Take their feedback, rewrite, edit, etc. When you feel like it’s ready, HALT. Have more people read it. Edit again. Etc. Repeat until it’s the best you got. Then carefully do your agent homework, submit, and pray. If you’ve written the best book you can, and you believe in it, and you’ve done the rewriting and editing work: don’t freaking worry about what other “pros” in the industry think.

Just write it. Like Paula Hawkins.

Good work, Paula!

Write on.

“You said it. Let’s edit.”

Michael Mohr

I do developmental book editing. Right now I am—happily—booked solid until August. If you want a free test edit now I can do that, but I’ll have to throw you in line for Aug. Cool with that? Have an adult novel (no sci-fi please) or memoir? Email me: michaelmohreditor@gmail.com.


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