Taking the wheel: self-publishing

The School's In query contest was a huge success, I think it's safe to say. Since then, we've had two weeks of posts related to preparing your manuscript for submission and crafting those all-important pitches.

Taking the wheel of your writing career...

Which has left me a bit uncertain about what to do with my week at the helm. You see, I'm not submitting my manuscript to agents or editors. I'm self-publishing. 

That does not in any way let me off the hook with regards to polishing my manuscript, writing a good synopsis, or being able to pitch my story in two sentences or less. I still need to do those.  I also need to do a lot of other things, and they're intimidating at first glance.

They were not so intimidating to me. Here are my credentials: I've been making a living as a graphic designer for 15+ years now. That has included everything from concept to handing the plates to the pressman. I got into it by way of proofreading (trained to the Chicago Manual of Style) and I'm entirely self-taught. I was involved for far too long in the role-playing game industry as a small publisher. Srsly, I don't want to talk about it. But the experience has come in handy.

Whether self-publishing is the right choice for you -- I can't tell you that. But I'm going to share a few things about my adventure thus far (I'll be publishing Disciple, Part I: For Want of a Piglet, on November 1st, 2012, in my current plan) and hopefully they will help you decide. 

On Friday, I will field any questions posted in the comments or emailed to unicornbellsubmissions (at) gmail.com. Ask away!

How to Process Critiques

Only the most courageous put their beloved work out into this medium for others to see.

Only the best of us accept what comes back.

So, how to use the whomp upside the head priceless crits?

It is like an exclusive elevator. You start at the bottom with a lot of other folks. The elevator starts up. Sometimes the ride stops and people step off. It stays on some levels for indeterminate periods.

Along the way, as the lights tick up on the elevator panel, the people experience the same reactions.

Levels of the Critique Elevator.

#1.Anger/Hurt Feelings. You’ve worked hard on this manuscript. It is wonderful, perfect, above superlative. Then someone doesn’t ‘get it’.

That elevator stops. Some can’t get past this stage and never move on. They leave. Others stay on, mumbling to themselves.

#2.Acceptance. After a day or two (or three or four, five or six), the critique makes seems. You edit and move to the next floor.

#3.Justification with explaining. Another stop. A crit seems befuddled with your MC’s behavior and, to enlighten them, you explain why she/he reacted as they did. Generally, no one gets off the elevator unless #1 is involved. 

Take note of this fact: The reader is telling you something very, very important. They don’t ‘see’ what you are seeing. Do not take this for granted. It is like pointing to an object below the horizon. You know it is there but your friend can’t see it.

Do not underestimate this type of crit. And do not give in to the temptation of ‘explaining’.

#4.Confusion. A critter makes an impossible suggestion that conflicts with your storyline. Absorb this, file it away for later reference, and move on. It might prove helpful at a later stage.

At this point, some crits may not be useful but accept them anyway. The tools, like a screwdriver, might not be what you require but pick it up, look at it, and decide whether it fits your need. Heaven knows a screwdriver handle works as a hammer sometimes.

#5.Acceptance. This level is the hardest to find. At this point, there are few people left in your elevator. Some are muttering quietly in the corner. Others nod their heads. But all of you are self-absorbed to the point of exclusion.

Thinking.

#6.Light Bulb – Gru, Despicable Me. It hits like a Niagara Falls. You look around the elevator and become aware that everyone is in the same place, following the same journey, with the same goals. Every crit become a precious bit of information given by people with little time or incentive to give it. You realize how priceless this is. Leading to:

#7.Appreciation. How can a simple thank you be enough? This expression of gratitude is too little but it is all we have.

#8.Pay It Forward. Critiques freely given generate a return of the same.

#9.Top floor. Published.

Step on the elevator for the ride of your life, folks. Then stay on.

We’ll get there together.

#5 Twitter Pitches and Loglines

Andren, prince of a small island, goes on a quest to find himself after a traumatic event and ends up waging war on an evil dragon emperor.

If you insert why he needs to ‘find himself’, you'll tie the reader to Andren.

Examples:

‘Andren, prince of a small island, finds himself at odds with his father…’

‘After killing his best friend, Andren, prince of a small island, wanders in search of…’

‘When Andren, prince of a small island, breaks his vow of chastity…’

*snicker* 

Anyway, if you add a character trait, you'll create a bond between the reader and Andren.

#4 Twitter Pitches and Loglines

In the winter of 1805, Arlen Devlin's life takes a decidedly witchy turn, beginning with the discovery of a grandmother she never knew to an heirloom book of spells worth killing over. But is it worth dying over?

Although this is a bit long for a 140-character twitter pitch, it certainly fits as a logline. An introduction, the genre, conflict and consequence make this stand out.

#3 Twitter Pitches and Loglines

All Koral ever wanted was a chance to fall in love and have a family, but the gods have other plans and they don’t mind destroying him in the process.

IMO, you need something other than ‘…a chance to fall in love and have a family…’ as our introduction to Koral. Like a definitive character trait or a unique aspect of his life. A bigger consequence of loss.

The last half of the logline is great, btw J

#2 Twitter Pitches and Loglines

David and Cat: top graduates and best friends, until he discovers she is next in line for a hereditary throne that should not exist on their planet.

I keep stumbling over ‘…that should not exist…’ and I don’t know why. 

Otherwise I'd definitely read on.

#1 Twitter Pitches and Loglines

Candance Crystelle's perfect life vanishes into nothing when her wing is broken, her mother dissolves her betrothed marriage and her sister, the future queen, banishes her from the kingdom.

Her wing?! Oh, cool. And the bit about the sister creates a bunch of questions in my mind. The good kind that piques my interest.

It is the phrase ‘…her mother dissolves her betrothed marriage…’ that slowed me down. Conflict is right on the mark. My problem is with the wording.

Maybe it reads better, ‘…her mother breaks her engagement…’ Or something with more Voice. ‘…her mother destroys her wedding plans,’ ‘…mother ruins her betrothal,’ ‘…kills her wedding plans’.

The part about the broken wing *really* made me sit up J

Readers? Comments?

30 Words, Twitter Pitches, Agents, and Genres

 A big Howdy and smile to our followers who entered OperationAwesome’s Twitter Pitch contest. It was like stopping at the corner coffee shop and meeting up with great friends and comrades. As I write this, no announcement yet on the winner. But a big Woot if it is one of our Unicorn Bell followers.

I entered the contest with my genre/drug of choice, urban fantasy. But I am conflicted. From what I read, agents don’t want adult urban fantasy/magical realism/paranormal/contemporary fantasy. The genre is slipping out of favor.

*shocked face*

The only genre I read consistently - epic fantasy is a close second - becoming like so much doggie doo doo? This is a bit hard to believe.

*gritting my teeth and snarling*

And my logline:

No one tells Shamira how to live her life. Not her friends and family after they deserted her. Or the ancient relic that would make her its newest acolyte. 

I’d love any comments or crits.

Send me your loglines to post this week to beccoff(at)nwmo(dot)net
And best of luck for our followers in the logline contest at OperationAwesome.

Remember

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it” – George Santayana

Only a person who enjoys self-flagellation would dwell on the past. As humans, we prefer to remember happy times. The laugh of a child, a soothing word from a parent, or the first declaration of love from our mate.

We hold these memories close and cherish them daily.

But to paraphrase Mr. Santayana, to ignore the past puts those children, our spouse, our mothers and fathers in danger.

Our enemy once said, ‘You have the watches. We have the time’.

Never forget. 

Twitter Pitches: Hell or Helpful?

Image Credit: NASA/SDO, AIA

Describe your 400-page manuscript in less than 140 characters.

I’ll give you a hint. It’s the same answer to ‘What is your novel about?’

Twitter pitches - or loglines - are both approximately the same length, under 30 words. To summarize your novel in so few words and make it interesting is the mark of a good writer. How to keep them legible, informative, and grammatically correct is the bug in the pudding.

Every logline needs the following:

• Genre
• Main Character
• Conflict
• Consequence.

Piece of cake, right? Eh, not so much.

This week is part Fun and part Submission.

1. In the Comments section, write a logline/twitter pitch for a famous book or movie without revealing the name. 
2. Submit your WIP’s logline to beccoff(at)nwmo(dot)com and I’ll post them for review.

To start the creative juices flowing, here is a twitter pitch for a famous book:

In the 1950’s, summer ends with six-year-old Jean’s introduction to racism when her lawyer father defends a black man in the Deep South.

What is the name of the book?

Remember; send the logline for YOUR wip to the above address for posting.

Use comment section on this post for a famous book or movie.

The Legacy of the Eye - revised

Thank you Patricia for taking the time to revise your first page. Here are my comments

     "Cat, we are stepping into our future and you’re not even paying attention."

     Catrine almost lost her balance when David grabbed onto her arm. She had been so engrossed with their conversation that she had not noticed they reached the gates of the Academy. The wooden bars stood wide open and seemed (seemed or were? Be specific) more decorative than a true barrier to their exit.

     "Our future doesn’t start for another couple of weeks," she said.
     Graduation was still two weeks away and they were only allowed to leave the Academy that day because the Academic Council had granted them an audience.
     "You’re wrong. This is it. Today we make history."
     She laughed. "We should wait until the council approves the Tutor Program before we celebrate."
     "Why would they reject it? You wrote a great proposal. The argumentation is flawless."
     "Just because you couldn’t find any faults, doesn’t mean the council won’t."

     Catrine had hardly eaten anything all day. Her insides were twisted in knots. But she would not to let her nervousness show -- not even to her best friend.

     "You are fretting needlessly," David said. (That seems like a very formal thing to say when the rest of their conversation hasn’t been. Why not have David say, “You’re worrying over nothing.”?) "We discussed the proposal with all the instructors in the department and we addressed their concerns. Everyone loved the idea to teach the rest of the galaxy and the council will too." Teach the rest of the galaxy what? This is very intriguing and a great addition imo.
     Deep down, Catrine knew they were as ready as they could ever be. She had spent weeks writing the proposal and had prepared David’s speech with great care. (Did David help at all with the speech? Isn’t this a we project? If so, maybe say “They had spent weeks… and instead of prepared, which seems a little dull, how about practiced and revised …just a thought) But it was such an ambitious project...
     "I'm just glad you will be the one doing all the talking," she said.

I think this is much improved. What do you guys think?

The Lost Figurehead

 A big thank you to Samantha for submitting the first page of her Middle Grade Fantasy, The Lost Figurehead. My comments will be in purple. I invite you to add yours and help Samantha make her first page the best it can be.

"That boy belongs in jail -- not an orphanage!"

Jeez, Mr. Leland was real stupid to bring that up again.  Just because he weighed as much as a whale didn't mean Finn was afraid to jump him.  He could probably claw out both his piggy eyes, even with a bloody nose.  He cracked his knuckles in preparation, but Sister Christine shot him a warning glare that made him shrink back into the shadows. I'm a little confused by this first paragraph. I assume Mr. Leland is the one speaking and that he's referring to Finn. But who isn't Finn afraid to jump? And what does weighing as much as a whale have to do with whatever happened in the past or the fact that Finn is or isn't afraid to jump whoever?

"A jail, do you hear?"

Sister Christine tore her gaze from Finn.  "Yes, sir, and I can assure you that he will be strictly disciplined."

Finn's stomach dropped.  The last time the sisters had "disciplined" him they had made him polish brass bedsteads.  Didn't Sister Christine see his two black eyes?  He was a victim here!

"Disciplined?" growled Mr. Leland, his pudgy face growing redder and redder.  "The only discipline for a...a...a terror is a concrete bed and barred windows!  He's dangerous!"

"I'm very sorry, sir.  Finn just has a...temper."

"Oh, really?  Well a temper doesn't put a ten year-old kid in the Emergency Room with a broken nose!"

Finn chuckled quietly to himself.  He might have gained a few cuts and bruises, but Bobby Leland had gotten the worst of the scuffle.

"That boy doesn't have a temper!  He has a problem!"

Oh, I'll show you a problem!  Finn flexed his fists, but again Sister Christine stopped him with a look that made him quiver.  She was like Medusa with those eyes.

"I swear, I won't rest until this place is torn to the ground!  You'll be hearing from my lawyer, that's for sure!"

St. Magnus's closed down?  The thought of a giant wrecking ball knocking into the little brick building forced a grin.  Who knew he and Mr. Leland could actually agree on something?

But for Sister Christine, the threat turned her face as white as the coif that peeked out from beneath her veil. Nice analogy.

Aside for the first paragraph, which confused me a bit, I have no other complaints. There's a really great voice here in the narrator, Finn, and his thinking seems exactly like a young trouble-maker to me. I’m also left curious about the fight. What started it? Who is Bobby? Will Mr. Leland make good on his threat and if he does how will Finn react then? I’m also curious as to what power Sister Christine has over Finn since he obviously listens to her. An interesting beginning to be sure!

Dragon

 A big thank you to Alrea for submitting the first page of her, Dragon. My comments will be in purple. I invite you to add yours and help Aldrea make her first page the best it can be.

Chapter One

Maay hummed as she worked the old loom, the dull clack of wood a lullaby to her ears. Sunlight blazed into the solarium, its normally stifling heat cooled every so often by a gust coming through the open windows.  She cocked her head to the sound of footsteps echoing from down the hall. Men. It had to be, for their boots hit the stone with such a racket and the occasional, punctuating clink of metal. I get a good visual here of a woman at a loom but no idea of age. And is Maay correct? Not May? Just asking.

Frowning at the woven threads before her, she idly looped another through the strands. It sounded like guards. What would they be doing here? Not many men came into this quarter of the castle, mostly servants with their soft shoes and irritating tendencies (vague. I'm not sure what this means since I'm not sure 'where' we are yet) to blend into the background.

She glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze (eyes instead of gaze since a gaze can't act of it's own accord.) perused the room, settling on the plants that separated the solarium from the other rooms and screened the bulk of the sunlight from those entering. The green leaves bobbed in the breeze. Bright, inviting and absent of extra shadows.

Yes, she was still alone. Figures. The first time she wanted a servant nearby and there were none around.

Perhaps she was imagining things. Why earlier, Maay could have sworn she'd heard the flap of massive wings. Though she’d risked falling out the window to see, nothing untoward had caught her eye and there weren't many people in this section of the castle to ask. She couldn't leave her weaving incomplete either lest she returned to discover someone, like one of her sweet younger sisters, had lovingly unravelled it.

The shuttle skipped a thread, forcing her to redo the line. She had to finish it in time for the autumn banquet next week. This would be the year she finally did it. (Hmm, do what, I wonder?) Allowing herself to be treated like a child until the next year was unthinkable. Not when this autumn marked her eighteenth year.

Not a lot to crit here but also not much happening. As long as this is aimed at adults I think it's fine but if it's YA you're going to need to more to hold the reader's interest imo, especially with the loom, which is an old fashioned piece of equipment younger readers might be quite unfamiliar with. However, if you could imbue Maay's actions with more urgency, make that skipped thread a bigger deal, then you'll up the tension in this first page. But what do you guys think? How can Aldrea make this even better? 

Bourbon-spiked punch

A big thank you to Jadzia for her submission! Here is the first page of her manuscript. My comments will be in purple and I invite you to add your to help Jadzia make her first page shine. 

Bourbon-spiked punch doesn’t relieve the pain that gnaws at my gut. Grandma’s kisses can’t still the shaking of my fingers as I raise another plastic cup to my lips. A sun the size of my pain, shining through the living room windows, fails to warm the numbness inside of me. The whispers creep in—family members talking behind their hands, eyes on me. Nice set up. I immediately want to know why they're talking behind their hands. Also like the active verbs :)

            I slide trembling fingers over my tulip-pink skirt and tuck my hands into the pockets. My father’s timepiece is there, and I curl my fingers around it.

            Someone named Marcus, or Malcolm, tells me how sorry he is for my loss. He says he’s my father’s cousin, but I’ve never seen him before.

            Marcus-Malcolm shakes my hand. His wife gives me a soft hug, but her arms are weak. (I don't think you need this because you've already said her hug is soft)When she pulls away, I notice the chain around her neck, the Clock ticking there. Interesting. Clock with a capital C. What does it mean?

“Eight days,” I say, reading the numbers counting down.

 She looks startled—whether because I’ve finally spoken, or because I’ve mentioned her Clock, I’m not sure.

“I’m sorry?” She asks.

Her fingers rise and press the timepiece against her chest. Her eyes are shining with tears.

“Eight days,” I say again. Marcus-Malcolm pulls his wife away by the arm while she strains her neck to look at me.

People don’t usually mention other peoples’ Clocks. Death is a touchy subject, especially now that it can be predicted. (Creepy! I'm not sure I'd want to know, but I love the idea of it!) I shouldn’t have mentioned it—it’s rude. Regular Keller wouldn’t blurt stuff out like that. But it’s like I’m different now that my father is dead. Like I’m not me. 

Wow. Not much to crit here. I'm intrigued. Very intrigued.

Legacy of the Eye

 A big thank you to Patricia for submitting the first page of her scifi manuscript, The Legacy of the Eye. My comments will be in purple. I invite you to add yours and help Patricia make her first page the best it can be. 

"Cat, we are stepping into our future and you’re not even paying attention."

Catrine almost lost her balance when David grabbed onto her arm all of a sudden. She had been so engrossed with their conversation that she had not (do you want had not rather than hadn't? I'm only asking because 'had not' is more formal, 'hadn't' less so. What tone do you want to set?) noticed they reached the gates of the Academy. The wooden bars were wide open and seemed more decorative than a true barrier to their exit.

"Our future doesn’t start for another couple of weeks," she said.

Graduation was still two weeks away and they were only allowed to leave the Academy that day because the Academic Council had granted them an audience.

"You’re wrong. This is it. Today we make history."

She laughed. "We should wait until the council approves the Tutor Program before we celebrate."

"Why would they reject it? You wrote a great proposal. The argumentation is flawless."

"Just because you couldn’t find any faults, doesn’t mean the council won’t." 

Catrine had hardly eaten anything all day. Her insides were twisted in knots. But she was determined not to let her nervousness show -- not even to her best friend. Deep down, she knew they were as prepared as they could ever be. She had spent weeks writing the proposal and she had also prepared David’s speech with great care. They had discussed the potential program with many people, including instructors and students, and they had waited until all concerns had been addressed before submitting a proposal to the council. But it was such an ambitious project that she was not convinced they would succeed. Catrine was very glad David would be the one doing all the talking.

The first part with David and Cat talking is better because it's more active, them talking but this last paragraph is riddled with passivity as you can see from highlighting. I wonder if there's a way the conversation could continue to illustrate Cat's worries and explain about the program. Dialogue would be a much more interesting way of showing Cat's doubts. I also wondered why they were leaving the grounds to see the Academic Council, which I would guess would be located on Academy grounds. But there may be a reason for that which I would discover upon reading further...

Now it's your turn to tell Patricia what you thought of her first page.

First page critique

The submission window is now closed. I have decided that on Saturday I will re-post revised submissions, should anyone wish to take heed of the comments and suggestions offered. Thank you to those who submitted and the first first page will go up bright and early tomorrow morning.

Hope everyone who got it enjoyed the holiday and long weekend. I know I did!

Hooking your reader from page one

I am currently reading the book HOOKED by Les Edgerton. Some of you may have read this. Some of you might not have. But I am going to quote from it anyway because even if you know this, it's worth repeating.

"Summary doesn't convince anyone of anything."

Now, go look at you current manuscript and read your first page again - not that you haven't already done so a hundred times before - and determine whether you are telling the read what's going on, or showing. This doesn't mean that you can't have any telling, imo, but I believe that in order for our writing to be effective, there needs to be more showing because "you goal is to evoke an emotional response that hooks the reader, and telling absolutely won't get it. The reader must live through that opening scene with the protagonist."

For example, if you start off your story telling the reader this is your character's first day at a new school and he's lonely and worried about fitting in, it won't mean half as much as if you show your mc walking into that new school. What does it smell like? Look like? Feel like? Is anyone staring? And where the heck is his homeroom? Showing draws the reader into the story, makes him feel like he's right there with your mc and experiencing that day, too. Because that's what keeps us reading, when we feel like we're in the story.

How does your first page stand up to this test? Need some help? Want an opinion or two? If so, send your first page to unicornbellsubmissions@gmail.com and I'll post the first five I receive and offer my ever so subjective opinion.