Tag Archives: editors

How to make money writing

money

I met an acquaintance for lunch. He works for a book review company, and we were speaking about writers. He went on to say that independent writers are just terrible.

I asked him why he held that opinion, and he enumerated his reasons; the story is sloppy, the plot meanders, the pacing has issues, the characters and dialogue feel contrived, and overall, they just don’t seem to understand how to write.

Playing devil’s advocate, I asked him what made mainstream writing superior, and he replied that mainstream writing doesn’t suffer from the same pitfalls.

I then asked if that meant that every book he reviewed by a mainstream writer was perfect.

He said no. There were several books by mainstream writers that he read that were quite bad.

I asked if they suffered from any of the same downfalls he had enumerated regarding independent writers, and he admitted that that was the case.

I pointed out that mainstream writers have editors, and before I finished, he interrupted, saying that that was a problem for independent writers. They don’t use editors. They just write a story and think it’s ready for publication.

I went on to finish my thought; mainstream editors must not be that great if mainstream books suffer from the same pitfalls as independent writers. He frowned and didn’t know what to say.

I then pointed out that independent writers do in fact hire editors to clean up their manuscripts, but they don’t know that the editors they’ve hired are crackpots. How can they know? Who is there to tell them?

He nodded, but added that there are plenty of competent editors out there who not only work for publishers, they also do freelance work.

Yes. I agreed. I told him the real problem isn’t independent writing, or writers. The real problem is the independent publishing system. It’s too easy, too accessible.

I can sit down and pound out one page of crap in 2 minutes. I can have it published to the whole world, even major book distributors, in 5 minutes.

He said that was indeed the problem. Someone needs to sit down with these independent writers and explain to them what they should do after they write a story and before they publish it, but that all that information was available.

Indeed it is, but no one is forcing these writers to access that information.

In the world of major publishing, it’s very difficult to have a story published. There are numerous checkpoints along the way.

Let’s assume a new writer has just completed their manuscript, and they want to achieve major publication. The first step is to query an agent. If the agent likes the query, they’ll want to see the manuscript. If they like the manuscript, they then want to know how large the writer’s fan base is. Which awards have they won? What other publications do they have? Is their story marketable to a wide enough audience for the publisher to make a profit?

Then, if everything looks good, the agent goes off to query publishers. When a publisher finds an interesting manuscript, they provide the writer a contract. The publisher then has its own checkpoints.

They design a cover. They pick the title. Their marketing department designs the blurb and marketing strategy. Editors clean up the manuscript for a broader audience. Every effort is made to provide that book with the highest possible chance for success.

Who is doing any of this for independent writers? Who teaches them how to write a proper query? Who is teaching them which agent is best? How do they win awards or build a fan base if they’ve never published before?

Who is teaching them how to find an editor? Who is teaching them which is editor is best? Who is teaching them how to design a cover, pick a title, or write a proper blurb? Who is paying for services rendered? Who is then selling their book?

I pointed out to my acquaintance that there’s nothing wrong with independent writers or their writing. They’re just working blindly, alone through an enigmatic system that isn’t designed to help them succeed. It’s only designed to allow them accessibility.

He agreed.

I added that the mainstream publishers have made it even more difficult for great writers to succeed, and that the ones who are succeeding aren’t doing so because of their superior writing; they’re succeeding because they have a better understanding of the publishing system.

There are also hundreds of independent writers who have done so well on their own that major publishing houses approach them in order to sell them a contract. He agreed again.

The truth is that there are innumerable, amazing writers out there. They are so creative and imaginative, and they have these phenomenal tales to tell, but they are just clueless when it comes to presenting those stories, and they are clueless on how to distribute those stories. They are also very, very impulsive; they get their great idea, they think they can pound it out in a month during NaNoWriMo, and then run off and publish it for the world to see.

No. No. No.

All of these writers need to slow down, like, way, way down.

These writers then think they need to join these contrived writer groups who promise to make their stories available to hundreds of thousands of readers.

Now, I’m not talking about peer editing groups, or groups of writers who work together to share their knowledge. I’m talking about those groups, which act like distributors; the groups that accept books. That’s really what they’re doing; they’re signing up new books, not new writers, and they promise to sell those books to consumers, but they don’t actually do that. They just try to engage those writers in joining blog tours, giveaways, and review exchanges, but none of those things are effective because there are no consumers there. No one is going to those groups looking for a new book to buy.

What a writer needs to do is slow down.

Write that story. Get it all down. Fill it with absolutely everything. Then, step back. Stay away from that story. Forget all about it. After months, go back and read it as a reader.

The writer will then notice redundancies, plot holes, pacing issues, and an overall sense of confusion because the story is no longer fresh in their mind. That’s the time for the rewrite.

Some chapters will be too long and boring. Some will be too short and feel rushed. The contrived dialogue must be rewritten to sound like organic conversation. Some passages will have to be restructured and organized. There can be found better and more clear and concise ways to provide information. All the extra fluff–the stuff that doesn’t add anything to the story–will have to be cut.

Once the rewrite is complete, that writer will then need to make that story available to a very small, niche audience. To do this, one simply asks for beta-readers. Beta-readers come in all shapes and sizes, though, and some of them will skim  over a 100,000 word book in a day or two, and their feedback cannot be productive.

Did you read Harry Potter in a day? Did you read it only once? You have to read a book slowly, numerous times to get all there is to get from it.

The good beta-readers will take their time to figure out what they like about a story. They take their time to figure what they didn’t like. They will explain why it was good or bad, and what they would like to see change.

It’s that writer’s duty to take all that constructive criticism and apply it if they believe it will enhance their book. However, enhancing that book doesn’t mean making it better in the eyes of the writer. It means making it a better experience for the reader, and that’s another problem.

No one is teaching this simple concept: Write for you. Publish for your audience.

The version of Harry Potter that you read and loved is not the version that Rowling wrote. It’s the version the editors cleaned. It’s the version the publisher approved.

Now, during the time it takes to secure beta-readers and receive feedback, the writer should be experimenting with different covers, titles, and blurbs. They should also be shopping for editors.

After the second rewrite is accomplished with the help received from beta-readers, the writer needs to hire an editor. A real editor will spend at least a few weeks carefully reading the book. Their job is to take that sequential account of events and transform it into a story that readers will enjoy experiencing.

While the editor is doing this, and hopefully communicating their thoughts with that writer, the writer should be talking about their story with an audience. Otherwise, who will be buying the book once it’s published?

Eventually, the writer will receive feedback from their editor. A good editor’s advice should be taken to heart, and their changes should be made, not for the writer’s sake, but for the readers’. Once those changes are employed, the writer needs again to step back, and forget all about their story. After a few months, they need to go back and read it again as a reader, but they also need to consider what kind of publishing is best for them.

If they want major publication, they need to consider all those concepts provided earlier; finding the right agent, proper querying, and perhaps even hiring a review agency, which reviews arcs, so they can prove their story will be appealing to a large public.

Most of these services will be expensive, and a lot of people don’t want to spend money, but an independent writer can’t even hope to compete against major publishing all on their own. The big houses have endless resources. Being an independent writer doesn’t mean doing everything alone; it just means being responsible for everything.

My acquaintance and I discussed all these concepts at length. We both agreed that if such a methodology was employed by all writers, it would no longer matter if a book was published by a major house or self published. Of course, the number of sales can vary greatly since the big houses include marketing and advertising departments. In the case of independently published writers, they will then need to spend more money to purchase book release services, but here’s the thing; major publication forces a writer to spend a ton of money anyway, more than you might imagine.

Let’s assume this writer does go the mainstream route. The contract is signed. The book is perfected and released. The big house offers a $2,000 advance. That’s an advance, a promise that the book will recoup that $2,000 within the first six months to a year of publication. If it doesn’t, that writer might lose their contract and their edited version of the book, title, cover, and blurb because the company owns all those rights.

Now, if the book is successful, at least $2,000 must be earned by the publisher before any royalties are paid to the writer. In order increase the chances of this occurring, the publisher will instruct the writer to purchase 5,000 copies of their own book. This automatically places that book on The New York Times Best Seller list, so everyone can say, “Hey, it’s a best seller, so you should buy it, too!”

5,000 copies of a book at cost is still very expensive, probably about $25,000. Then, that writer, who is under contract to do all this is, is instructed to parade around the country and sell their book in person, on their own dime. The company books the events, but the writer has to cover their own expenses, so a year of touring adds another $25,000 to that writer’s expenses.

Suddenly, that $2,000 advance doesn’t seem so great, and this is precisely why most writers have day jobs. Of course, if they survive their first year, they ‘re in a great spot; they can easily secure publication of any book they write after that first one, but it still won’t guarantee that the royalties will outweigh the cost of touring the second book.

It takes quite a few books and many, nerve-wracking years to achieve financial independence. That’s why you get writers like Ursula K. Leguin, who have been published by major houses for years, who go out and set up GoFundMe accounts, asking consumers to cover all these costs.

In the end, it doesn’t matter if a writer is independent or mainstream. There are millions of mainstream writers you’ve never heard of, who have day jobs. It is very difficult to become a wage-earning writer, and there should be no rush in trying to achieve that.

Another offer made by mainstream houses is a chance to option movie rights. The best selling writers’ books are always movies. More people read Harry Potter after the movie came out. What writer doesn’t want their book turned into a movie?

Movie options can be obtained by independent writers as well. It isn’t easy. It might cost a pretty penny, and a writer might have to hire a lawyer in order make certain they aren’t being cheated out of royalties from products like action figures, video games, or apparel.

This enigmatic process bypasses millions of writers. That’s why I’ve used my own experiences to outline a strategy that will lead every writer to success.

I don’t promise millions of dollars in revenue, but I do guarantee that any writer who takes their time and studies my strategy can make a profit from their writing. For just 99 cents, I offer you the following:

How to Become a Successful Writer Secrets the Mainstream Publishers Don't Want You to Know by Aaron Dennis

How to Become a Successful Writer Secrets the Mainstream Publishers Don’t Want You to Know by Aaron Dennis

This manual brings to your fingertips all the practical knowledge required to build your long term writing career. Any writer of any level will benefit from the material within this comprehensive guide. From the neophyte to the professional, anyone who reads this book will learn everything from formulating an idea for a story, to practicing the art of the short story, to writing proper fanfiction, and writing an original novel.

This book not only teaches how to write, but also how to market, edit, publish, and all with exercises and even free resources. From start to finish, the ideas presented are done so in an easy to understand and entertaining fashion. By the end of this manual, you will not only know how to write, edit, publish, and market your book, but you’ll know what kind of publishing is right for you.

Why don’t publishing companies want you to know these secrets? Publishers run an exclusive good ole’ boy club, and in doing so, they choose who they help to succeed, and who they help to fail, but when you learn these secrets, you’ll know that no writer needs a publisher in today’s internet age. Bypassing a publishing company not only allows you to maintain control and earn the bulk of your income, but it relegates the old, dinosaur, publishing companies to obscurity.

Buy How to Become a Successful Writer from Barnes and Noble

For just 99 cents, you will learn at least one thing that will help you to earn more money from your writing. You know 99 cents is worth making just a few more sales every month, but if you’re still not convinced, that’s okay. I provide everyone with numerous free resources. Just check out my Editing Services and Free Resources tab. You can enjoy numerous articles regarding all aspect of writing and publishing.

Thanks for reading this post. I wish you success throughout your writing journey.

How to write a novel or series, a Quora Question

Since Quora likes to collapse my answers in an effort to keep me quiet, I’m copying and pasting some of the Quora Q and A’s in which I’ve participated. Here’s a question from Quora.

Question: How do you write a novel or series?

 

Addendum: I’ve been reading the writer’s journey and I’m curious as to how some of the authors on quora go about their writing projects – I’m not looking for their writing advice insomuch as I’m interested in looking at what they actually do.

 

Answer: I think about the story. I envision a scene, a character, his perspective, his goal, the problem, the solution. I mull it over. I obsess over it. It consumes me. I see it all. I hear it all. I smell it all. I am the character, or I am his friend, or I am the unseen sojourner beside him.

 

Then, one day, I have to commit it to paper. By the time I’m four pages in, everything changes. I stop. I reassess and re-obsess. Before long, I have to write again.

 

A chapter, two chapters in, I see a twist, or a character comes to life and takes itself in a new direction. I follow, wondering where it all goes.

 

I just write; I just get the story down. That’s all anyone should do. There is nothing else that can really be said until the story has been written to completion. Completion doesn’t mean perfection; it doesn’t mean the story is ready to be published. It just means the first draft is done, and all the basics are down.

 

Occasionally, while writing, I go back and re-read former chapters to make sure there are no inconsistencies, but mostly, I try to just keep going forwards. By the time I get to the end, it’s never what I had envisioned. Because of this, I never use writing software, I never use outlines; all that crap is a creativity killer.

 

It is my belief that stringent outlines, which don’t allow for deviation, destroy inspiration. You can’t plan a garden. You can just plant flowers, and watch them grow. You can’t predict or control how they grow. After they start to grow, you can guide them. Once they’re fully grown, you can maintain them, but you can’t possibly plan on how flowers will grow.

 

You can plan for life with a newborn, but until you’re married, and your child is born, and growing, and learning, and adapting, there is no way to know how to live your life. You can’t plan for every contingency. Maybe, your boy won’t like baseball. Maybe, your girl will be too shy for dancing. Until you’re married with children, there is no way to know what will happen. The same goes for stories; there is no way to accurately outline what will happen, when, and how; you just write, and once it’s down, you can edit.

 

The story should be alive within the writer, and should come to life during the writing process. The writer should be as surprised as the audience.

 

I can’t tell you guys and gals how many characters I thought were good guys suddenly planned, and plotted, and derailed the story, but that’s what readers love, and they think I planned it that way, but no. Sometimes, events simply occur. Other times, something new comes to mind during the re-reading/editing process.

 

This happens after I get the story down. I read it, you know, like I’m reading it for the first time as a reader, and I find nuances, which I explore.

 

Oh, look, John wants to be with Carol even though she’s with Mike. Maybe John can try to woo her, and maybe that’ll make for some cool character growth!

 

Thoughts like that jump out at me after I’ve written the first draft. I explore those thoughts. Sometimes they work out. Sometimes they don’t. The first draft of the story is not the end product and should never be taken as such. The story isn’t finished until there’s nothing else that can be added, and then it’s time to cut everything superfluous, even if I like it because I have to think about what the audience will want, and if I force them to read every single little tiny thought I have, they’ll feel as though the story is pulling every which way; it feels jumbled, disorganized, confusing.

 

I know different methods work for different people, but fierce structure and routine destroys imagination, and at the end of the story, there is an editing process during which all the mess gets cleaned up and tied into everything else, which keeps my work from becoming convoluted. An outline should be only a limited tool, a guide, a loose idea, which is there only to bloom, to be modified as the occasion arises.

 

For, say, a single novel, there should only be a single plot twist if any at all, but I mostly write series, so things can get messy, which is why I do keep a notepad handy, and in it, I jot down a sentence or two in the event that I want to add a certain event during the editing process.

 

For instance, in the newly released Dragon Slayer

The Dragon of Time Two, Dragon Slayer By Aaron Dennis

The Dragon of Time Two, Dragon Slayer
By Aaron Dennis

I had intended for Scar, the protagonist, to kill a support character, but by the time I reached that portion of the story, that action no longer made sense, so I adapted, and it will seem as though what does happen was planned that way from the beginning.

 

I promise, you’ll never who I wanted him to kill or why. You’ll never know where it was supposed to happen.

 

So, as the question was asked: How do I write a novel or series?

 

I begin with an idea, no matter how undeveloped. I think about the idea, and jot down little notes. Inevitably, more and more scenes, actions, thoughts, and emotions come to mind, and when I have enough, I begin to write.

 

Maybe, my beginning is under developed. No big deal. Maybe, my middle is shaky. That’s okay. Maybe, I planned for one ending, but it no longer makes sense. That’s fine.

 

I just write, and as I write, more and more comes to mind. Eventually, I find myself wrapping up all the events, and the story has ended. Sometimes, I have some ideas for an aftermath, in which case, I’ll hold on to it for the sequel.

 

If there’s no after math, it’s time to get away from the novel. I need to forget it because the people reading it won’t be in my head.

 

Once I’ve forgotten the tale, I read it as a reader. I correct little mistakes. I fluff out the portions, which are lacking in description, dialogue, action, whatever, and I go through it over and over, probably more than 20 times by the time I’m ready to publish.

 

While re-reading, I cut whatever’s superfluous. I make notes for the sequel. I scan for inconsistencies. I search for better ways to show versus tell. I make sure to keep from repetitious retelling. I make certain that the main characters, the support crew, they’re all different. No stock characters–they cannot all sound like me when I talk or think. I give them choice words, mannerisms; I make them living people.

 

It’s a daunting undertaking, but this is why there are whole institutions devoted to writing; publishers don’t just accept a written body of work, and print it. They normally only take a look at vetted stories.

 

A literary agent accepts a finished product. They hand it off to a publisher. The acquisitions editor reads the story. If it looks good, they send it to editors and people who function as test readers. If the story can be edited for a large audience, and it appears to be attractive enough to reach a broad audience, that story gets picked up, and then the actual editing process occurs, and I promise you that it takes a long time to rewrite the entire story from that stage.

 

There’s a lot of people out there, readers, new writers, aspiring novelists, who think that writers just sit down and write out a perfect manuscript from word one to the end. Far from it; it’s a long, arduous process fraught with editing and re-writing. Many eyes have to look over the manuscript before it can be safely published, and for independent writers, this can be a most intimidating task.

 

Fortunately, there are writing groups, reading groups, beta-readers, and freelance editors. There are also numerous writers out there who blog, who answer questions, who give advice, who show the process, and so anyone who takes the time to learn, can start their career off properly.

 

Thanks for reading. Share with your friends! Come back anytime, and make sure to check out my resources, and download my free stories.

How to use a semicolon

self aggrandizing aaron meme

 

The semicolon

This guy ;

I haven’t written anything regarding my experiences from Quora in a little while, but I came across a quote, which I simply brushed off for quite some time; it was a quote regarding the semicolon. Then, I remembered answering a question on Quora about the semicolon.

The quote—and I don’t recall who said it, or if anyone actually said it at all; sometimes, people just write their own thoughts and claim someone else said something in order to pass their quirks off as something with a far deeper meaning, but I digress—the quote was along the lines of the following: I don’t use semicolons in my writing. Semicolons are just used by people who want to let everyone know that they went to college.

Well, that’s a stupid outlook.

The question from Quora was in regards to the proper use of semicolons and had nothing to do with the quote, but as is often the case, a wild hair grows right up my anus, and I have to expound my own thoughts—love me or leave me….

Question: When does one use a semicolon?

Answer: A semicolon can be used to provide a list of items or ideas.

He went to the store and purchased the following items; beer, bread, milk, eggs, and toilet paper.

This is in lieu of the following statement: He went to the store and purchased beer, bread, milk, eggs, and toilet paper.

As you can plainly see, the information provided in both statements is exactly the same. There is no difference, pragmatically, whatsoever. In this instance, the structure of the statement depends on you, the writer, and how you wish to provide your information to an audience.

If you were to write children’s books, you’d probably use the simpler version, and refrain from the semicolon. If you were writing a term paper on the history of espionage, you’d probably like to sound more professorial, and go for the semicolon version.

There is another time to employ the semicolon, and it is used where most people comma splice. The semicolon is used to tie together two thoroughly related sentences; both sentences must be complete clauses. This is a case where a period can also be used.

He went to the store; the Best Buy on Main St. is always busy, but he needed a new laptop right away.

The idea can also be written as the following: He went to the store. The Best Buy on Main St. is always busy, but he needed a new laptop right away.

It cannot be written in the following manner: He went to the store, the Best Buy on Main St. is always busy, but he needed a new laptop right away.

Now, why would anyone want to use the semicolon in lieu of the period?

The same reason as was stated earlier; if you are writing a book for someone of grade school age, you’d certainly refrain from the semicolon, and use the period in order to create shorter, simpler sentences. If you were writing a term paper for grad school, it’d probably be best to create more complicated sentences. Why? Presumably, a grad school student needs to provide more complex information within a paragraph, yet this is all hypothetical, subjective, from the point of view of the writer/editor and intended audience, and combined with personal predilection given any number of circumstances.

Inspect the following paragraph:

The CIA as an organization buys and sells information; they often work for various governments and against various governments and often for the same employer. Moreover, the CIA is not a single faction; they are a plethora of organizations, and all of them work together under various names, so it should not come as a shock that ISIS is in fact a CIA faction. There is little doubt that such an idea will ever be presented by anyone else, and should someone provide such an insight, it will surely be disregarded immediately.

Here’s the same paragraph verbatim:

The CIA as an organization buys and sells information. They often work for various governments and against various governments and often for the same employer. Moreover, the CIA is not a single faction. They are a plethora of organizations, and all of them work together under various names, so it should not come as a shock that ISIS is in fact a CIA faction. There is little doubt that such an idea will ever be presented by anyone else, and should someone provide such an insight, it will surely be disregarded immediately.

In the second version, both semicolons were replaced by periods. Once again, the information provided is identical, but the first version “reads” smoothly, where as the second feels “choppy”.

(Choppy is not dialogue, so the period does not belong inside the quotation marks. Quotation marks are also punctuation, and the only time other items of punctuation belong within the quotation marks is during dialogue. I don’t care what anybody else tells you; just because an idea has been accepted as the common stance does not mean it is correct. There was a time when the common stance indicated the earth was the center of the solar system, and we all learned a lesson from that, right?)

What needs to be stressed is that, for the most part, a paragraph is comprised of three or more sentences. The provision of too many sentences can cause a paragraph to expound upon multiple ideas, which is incorrect; a paragraph must elucidate a single idea, no matter how complex it may be, but the more complex the idea, the more complex must be its supporting sentences, hence linking numerous sentences by way of the semicolon. You can think of this in terms of afterthoughts, which are thoroughly correlated to one another, yet may by themselves distract from the main idea.

Fortunately, the semicolon, like the Oxford comma, is one of those strange pieces of punctuation that yields to choice, to predilection. Do you want to employ a semicolon? You don’t have to. Do you want to employ the Oxford comma? You don’t have to. The choice is yours, and the choice must be predicated on two ideas: How would you like to be regarded, and who is your audience?

I dropped everything I was doing and wrote this because often I cannot stomach the hubris of writers; I have written copiously about that idiot Stephen King, and other morons like Lloyd, ad nauseam. They are so often out there, wielding their success, lording it over your heads, prattling on about the proper way of writing. I’m certainly glad they have achieved fame, success, and financial security, but more often than not, the information they present is really just their personal take, their predilection; they also always, always, forget that they have editors, and that their editors, if they’re worth a damn, change all their writers’ quirks in order to provide readers a better experience; writing is not only about stating facts. It is also about the best possibly way to convey meaning, and that’s where punctuation often comes into play; we don’t only read words, we read punctuation in order to understand what someone else wants us to think, feel, experience….

I know that it seems sensible to take their advice to heart since they achieved success with their quirks, but this is often not the actual case; editors have rewritten their clients’ books, and a lot of those quirks are omitted, yet the writers maintain their stance. Using a semicolon won’t keep you from being successful. Starting sentences with conjunctions won’t make you successful. Vomiting sentence fragment after sentence fragment won’t make you successful, so what good is their advice? The advice of writers is usually worth less than the paper on which it’s written.

Why listen to me, right? I am also an editor.

What writers should be doing instead of telling you to avoid phrases such as “for a long moment” (more idiot Stephen King nonsense) is telling you to avoid abusing words like would, could, and should. Have you ever dropped a book because you read that a character paused for a “long moment”? Of course not. In fact, look at these pictures.

this is a picture I took of one of my favorite novels, Tales of Power, by Carlos Castaneda

this is a picture I took of one of my favorite novels, Tales of Power, by Carlos Castaneda

In the eighth line, you can plainly see “for a long moment.”

(I’m quoting the author’s statement, so the period is placed correctly.)

This book, and all of his others, are all international best sellers, and Castaneda was an anthropologist from UCLA. For a long moment is not something you need to avoid, but here’s a phone screen shot of King from Twitter.

king tells you not to use for a long mement

king tells you not to use for a long moment

There’s a time and place to use the proper statements, and it if “he looked at her,” but not “for a long moment,” he then glanced at her, or peeked at her. Conversely, you may want to state: He scrutinized her, which does entail “a long moment”. Regardless, King is a self ingratiating putz who preaches avoiding thesauruses; I’ll bet his editors use them, though, putz!

I’ll bet you dropped a book because you felt the writer kept you at arm’s length, though, right? Writers should be telling you to avoid using editing software, and instead, hire an actual editor, but the truth is that they are frightened little rabbits—they are riddled with self-doubt and insecurities— and they know people like you and me are gunning for their spot as best writer in the world, and so they give you bullshit advice in the hopes of deterring you from success.

Use a semicolon if you’re writing for adults—use it correctly. Hire an editor who understands how to transform your dry account of sequential events into a story. Learn to build a fan base before publishing your first novel. Such is the advice that writers should be giving people.

If you think I’m full of it, that’s fine, but take a few minutes to read over the following few articles;

Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda

Editing One Shot by Lee Child

Structure

I guarantee you, your editing software is destroying your career before it even begins…so, too, is the fake advice of these “great” writers of our times. They’re a bunch of hacks, who joined a group of other hacks, and then started praising each other and keeping out anyone with a hint of talent. Fortunately for us, today is an indie age; we’re in an age of free information, an age where anyone can become successful if they employ all the time and effort at their disposal and all without having to cater to third-party, mainstream assholes. We’re living in an age where readers are clamoring for something new and fresh, and the old dinosaurs don’t know what new and fresh means. Readers are begging you to write what they want to read, so learn how to do it.

Be sure to also check out my editing services tab rather than relying on editing software.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do editors have to be better writers than writers?

Since Quora likes to collapse my answers in an effort to keep me quiet, I’m copying and pasting some of the Quora Q and A’s in which I’ve participated. Here’s a question from Quora.

Question: Do editors have to be better writers than writers.

Answer: First of all, that’s a great question, but the answer is no, editors do not have to be better writers than writers.

It’s important to understand that editing and writing while complementary are two different skill sets.

A writer provides a sequential account of events. An editor transforms that dry account into a story. Generally, one cannot work without the other.

This is precisely the reason that all mainstream, publishing presses employ so many editors, and every editor ends up working with numerous authors. It’s also important to understand that there are different kinds of editors. There are copy editors, who basically proof the story or title to be sure there are no typographical, grammatical, or punctuation errors.

Yes, some errors still go unnoticed. I have never purchased a book from any press that has zero errors. Errors happen.

There are also editors who read the story, searching for the best use of words, proper sentence structure, creativity, character depth, plot holes, consistency, and just about everything readers try to find when they read; these editors are readers, basically, and their job is to help the author make sure they are providing their very best.

I have talked and blogged extensively about editing. You can certainly search this website, and just about every post that isn’t about one of my books is about how to properly edit a manuscript.

I strongly suggest that all writers, and even editors, search this site for hints, tips, and the proper way to edit a manuscript. I also recommend visiting the Editing Services tab.

Finally, I will add that one who possesses both skill sets–writing and editing–can go far. Both skills require a degree of creativity, but a writer has to create characters, a world, interactions, reactions, a plot, a twist; the editor just ensures that all of those concepts are provided in the most succinct, cogent, and entertaining forms.

This is kind of like saying that an artist who can both draw and animate has two, complementary, skill sets. One does not preclude the other, but neither is better than the other. An animator does not have to be a better artist than a penciler or inker. Feel me?

self aggrandizing aaron

Do you think self publishing has lowered the quality of publishing, a Quora question

Since Quora likes to collapse my answers in an effort to keep me quiet, I’m copying and pasting some of the Quora Q and A’s in which I’ve participated. Here’s a question from Quora.

Do you think self publishing has lowered the quality of publishing?

My answer:

Self publishing in and of itself has not ruined the literary market; even Stephen King self publishes. However, people putting words on a page and calling it a book have lowered the quality. These “authors” need to 1. Hire an editor 2. Stop auto posting on social media 3. Stop giving each other glowing reviews in exchange for the same 4. Stop claiming best seller status for books, which are clearly ranked low on Amazon and other outlets.

There is still hope out there for both traditional publishing and self publishing. Publishing in general is not under siege, but the quality of writing is. This is not strictly a self publishing problem. Mainstream publishers and mainstream editors are wrecking the written word just as much if not more so than self publishing because the large presses can sell their dreck to a larger audience.

If you’re curious about editing, and proper editing practices, visit my editing services tab!

Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda

I would go to the store if it wasn’t raining.

I could leave the house, but there are zombies outside.

I should fix the car, but I’m saving up for a boat.

Would, could, and should are what I consider if words; they imply, they insinuate, and they excuse or absolve one from the action at hand. Generally, they make for weak writing when they’re used in prose, and for all of you who often read self published, or independently published, books, you’ll notice that every writer uses one of those words in every other sentence, on every single page.

Sometimes, would, could, and should are great words. People do use them in dialogue. At times, would, could, and should work well in prose, too, but this is a difficult maneuver.

Since they’re weak words, or implications rather than assertions, they’re great words for either a weaker character, or they can be used to show deliberation. I’ll provide examples of everything in a moment, but first I want to portray, I mean, really get across, how different prose can be with and without those words.

I always like to take a look at the works of writers who claim to be best sellers. I often check their work, their rankings, and find that they are far from best sellers. Then, I look at the reviews, and often they have 500, glowing, five star reviews, but they have about a dozen one star reviews, and when I check them out, I can see that the one star reviews are given by angered readers, and the five star reviews are given by other authors.

Why are authors doing this? They think that giving each other great reviews in exchange for great reviews sells more books, and they think that reviews are for authors, and they think that they can trick people into buying a bad book, and sometimes it works, and that’s why the readers are angry when they buy a poorly written book.

Reviews are for readers, though; a reader decides that a book was or wasn’t worth their money, their time, and they want to let others know. Readers and authors aren’t reviewing Stephen King’s Dreamcatcher to help him sell more copies.

Generally, when it comes to reviews of indie books, there’s one chief complaint- lack of editing, sometimes called clunky writing, or poor flow, or they say it reads like a draft. Why? Why does this happen to every indie writer, and why are no indie authors spotting this?

Editors spot this kind of stuff. I say it all the time: Editing is not the same as proof reading, editing software cannot make your account of events more palatable to readers; you must hire a competent editor. Editors aren’t working for authors; they’re working for readers. Readers deserve to spend their money on a well written story, regardless of whether or not they enjoyed the plot, characters, etc.; you’ll never please everyone, but an editor goes a long way.

So, I have a short excerpt from Lola Silverman’s, Escorting the Wrong Billionaire.

Excerpts can be used in reviews and discussion, so I just grabbed the first few lines from the book by using Amazon’s look inside feature, a feature that readers need to use before they buy.

Kaylee opened the window of her apartment and took a deep breath. Perching her butt on the sill, she slung her legs out onto the fire escape. She hated heights. Thank God her unit was only on the second floor. Any farther up and she would have fainted dead away before plummeting to the concrete. (Aaron’s mental note: I thought there was a fire escape.)

Someone pounded on her front door. “Kaylee! I know you’re in there. I’ve given you three weeks on the rent and I can’t give you any more. Pay up or I’m going to have you evicted!” (Aaron’s mental note. Front door? This is a second story apartment. Is there more than one door?)

Yeah, hitting her head might actually be a positive thing. (Aaron’s mental note: Not sure from where this thought came. Who gave the idea of hitting her head?) If she had a concussion, maybe Mrs. Tobolovsky would feel sorry for her and give her another week to pay her rent. Except a concussion would mean a trip to the hospital—and that Kaylee could not afford.

Let’s see…five sentences in, would. Eleven in, would. Twelve, would and could. That’s four uses in two paragraphs, but what other way is there to write out this scenario? Do readers really care about would and could or weak writing?

Aaron’s rewrite:

Kaylee opened her studio apartment’s window. There, she sat, peeking out into the monotony of the world. Her feet dangled carelessly. While she didn’t like heights—the mere thought churned her stomach—she was on the second floor and protected by the fire escape. A sudden pounding drew her attention.

“Kaylee, I know you’re in there! You’re three weeks late on the rent! How many times we gotta’ go through this?” Mrs. Tobolovsky made her regular effort to collect, yelling and pounding, in the hopes of avoiding an eviction. “Hey!” She screamed, and followed up with another set of fists to the door. “I’m tellin’ you, you get your head straight, or you’re outta’ here!”

Yeah, my head straight, Kaylee thought. Rather than paying, she felt sorry for herself, her situation, and figured she was better off with a concussion than having her head straight. Unfortunately, a concussion came with more than a headache, it came with bills, and if she didn’t have rent money, she didn’t have hospital money.

See? The original phrasing was just awkward, and it didn’t tell us what we needed to know- Kaylee is in a jam, and she doesn’t have her life together. Instead, the original prose took us into and out of different perspectives and tenses, and with a weaker voice.

Let’s see, step-by-step, what changes were made and why.

Kaylee opened the window of her apartment and took a deep breath.

Nothing wrong there. It’s a great opener.

Perching her butt on the sill, she slung her legs out onto the fire escape.

Still moving along, but that’s weird. She slung her legs onto the fire escape? How are the window and escape built? Shouldn’t her feet be on the escape? Perching her butt…we normally sit on our butt and perch on our toes, like squatting. We know Kaylee is at home, sitting on the window sill, and with her feet over the fire escape…right?

She hated heights.

If she hates heights, why is she doing this? How far up is she? Well, we get a partial answer in the next sentence.

Thank God her unit was only on the second floor.

Okay, so she hates heights, but being nearly twenty feet up in the air is okay? Besides, she’s over the fire escape, which has a platform, right? Then, we get a weird addition in the next sentence.

Any farther up and she would have fainted dead away before plummeting to the concrete.

So, what do we have? What do we know? What is this paragraph trying to tell me, the reader? It tells me Kaylee is dangling her legs out from her window, and that she’s okay doing so because she’s not up very high, but I’m also told there’s a fire escape, and then I’m told she would otherwise faint and plummet to the concrete. It’s conflicting and confusing information. As a reader, do I want to learn  more? I’m so plagued with questions.

Next, we have the following:

Someone pounded on her front door.

Alright, simple enough.

“Kaylee! I know you’re in there. I’ve given you three weeks on the rent and I can’t give you any more. Pay up or I’m going to have you evicted!”

Here, we have some dialogue, and now we get an idea of what’s going on. As a reader, now I’m assuming that Kaylee is a derelict, or that, perhaps, Tobolovsky is a horrible person. It is implied that Kaylee doesn’t pay her rent, and judging from the tone, this is a regular occurrence. Now, I’m expecting something to happen; there’s an opening for a discussion, or action, or some event.

Yeah, hitting her head might actually be a positive thing.

Okay, this is Kaylee’s internal dialogue, right? She’s having a rather strange thought from out of the blue. Who mentioned anything about hitting the head? Why is that a positive thing?

If she had a concussion, maybe Mrs. Tobolovsky would feel sorry for her and give her another week to pay her rent.

Well, that’s a strange a take on the story. Am I supposed to think that this character, Kaylee, is actually considering giving herself a concussion to avoid some rent? Why is that her first go to thought when the rent is overdue, assuming it’s overdue? I’m not really even sure that’s the case.

Except a concussion would mean a trip to the hospital—and that Kaylee could not afford.

Seems fairly obvious, but why is that sentence written that way? Why is there a dash? A comma is required. Furthermore, it’s evident, for those who live in America, that healthcare costs can outweigh the cost of an apartment, but if I’m not American, this is really confusing, and it’s confusing anyway because Kaylee must have access to all this information, which means her thoughts just don’t make sense, and why does she think, or expect us to think, or tell us to think that Tobolovsky might feel sorry and give her a break? If she’s injured, she surely won’t be able to pay the rent for that month or likely the next. It’s just baffling.

There is something here, though; we have the idea that Kaylee is a self-pitying, underachiever, who likes to make excuses for herself and not take responsibility, which has the makings of a great character if she’s made to overcome obstacles. That’s why I provided my version.

Kaylee opened her studio apartment’s window.

Okay, that’s the same opener, basically.

There, she sat, peeking out into the monotony of the world.

Ah, see, I gave her a reason to open the window and sit rather than perch; she’s looking out at the monotony of the world. Now, she sounds like a tortured soul. Besides, we know how people sit; there’s no real reason to go into it, and while there is a time for perch, now is not that time.

Her feet dangled carelessly.

That sentence further implies her angst.

While she didn’t like heights—the mere thought churned her stomach—she was on the second floor and protected by the fire escape.

I kept the fact that she didn’t like heights, and kept that confusing feeling of her odd behavior along with the fact that she doesn’t like heights; angst plus strife makes for a great read. Furthermore, the structure of the sentence flows much more naturally. We also know how she feels physically when she’s up too high, but we also know she’s fine due to the fire escape, and not the senseless idea of not being too high; if you’re afraid of heights, sitting on the second story window sill is terrifying!

A sudden pounding drew her attention.

I wrote this in this fashion to slap the reader from a rather tranquil, if confusing, scene to something alarming. You have the mental image that she spun her head to face the door in surprise, right?

“Kaylee, I know you’re in there! You’re three weeks late on the rent! How many times we gotta’ go through this?” Mrs. Tobolovsky made her regular effort to collect, yelling and pounding, in the hopes of avoiding an eviction. “Hey!” She screamed, and followed up with another set of fists to the door. “I’m tellin’ you, you get your head straight, or you’re outta’ here!”

I changed this whole dialogue block because the original was stock and somehow confusing. We were told Kaylee had been given three weeks on the rent, but not that she was overdue. Also, the reader knows Tobolovsky doesn’t want to evict. Now, I made the distinction. Furthermore, I didn’t leave it up to the reader to assume this happened before, I straight said it, and, on top of all that, tenants can’t usually get evicted for being three weeks late on the rent, and it takes a month’s notice to evict, so I changed the dialogue for a realistic feel, not to mention that the intermittent pounding sounds far more menacing than the original version of this dialogue.

Yeah, my head straight, Kaylee thought.

In keeping with the idea of giving oneself a concussions, I actually gave a reasonable lead in to this idea with Tobolovsky’s dialogue.

Rather than paying, she felt sorry for herself, her situation, and figured she was better off with a concussion than having her head straight.

Here, I explained it all. We still don’t know why Kaylee doesn’t pay, which adds a touch of mystery. Is she a broke student? Has she recently been laid off? Does she have a kid? We don’t know, but we are curious, and especially because she’s considering knocking herself out rather than forking over the dough.

Unfortunately, a concussion came with more than a headache, it came with bills, and if she didn’t have rent money, she didn’t have hospital money.

Again, explained, and all without implications. The reader now knows by way of an assertion: Kaylee has no money and while getting knocked out sounds worthwhile, she does know it isn’t useful.

When comparing the two versions, it becomes quite clear that the original version doesn’t even know where it’s going; the writer doesn’t know what she wants her readers to think, feel, or know. That’s okay, though, most writers are like this; writers provide a sequential account of events. Editors turn those accounts into a story.

Now, I want to provide some original examples of when would, could, and should are great.

“Hey, Bill, you busy,” John asked.

“Nope. What’s up, John?”

“Well,” John hesitated, rubbing his chin. “I need to go to the hardware store and pick up a new ladder, so I was hoping you would like to come along.”

Bill smiled and looked away. “I would love to help you out, bud, but my pick up truck’s in the shop. Otherwise, I could help you.”

This is a very real conversation. Now, in a more lively context, the words I would are usually written as I’d, but I didn’t want to pull focus from the use of would. At any rate, two friends discussing a project can certainly come across like that, and one friend certainly wants to help the other, and one friend certainly doesn’t want to pressure the other, so the words would show deliberation, and they are followed up by an excuse or a reason, so it isn’t weak writing in this case; it’s a real situation, however, we also know that neither John nor Bill are jerks; jerks don’t give a reason or excuse, so they won’t use would or could in dialogue, or at least, not this dialogue.

Let’s take a look in prose.

John would’ve gone outside, but the hordes of zombies were still shuffling around the neighborhood.

What do we know? There are zombies. John is scared of them. He wants to go out, but he won’t. He has an excuse not to go out; there are zombies.

This is a perfect way to convey to the reader that John wants something, but he doesn’t have what it takes to get the job done, and it’s very relatable, but we also expect, if John is the protagonist, he will get over his fear in order to grow as a character, and get the job done, and therein lies the problem; if would, could, and should keep following John around, we’re always going to feel that he’s deliberating!

Let’s see what happens when we play with words.

John didn’t want to go outside. Hordes of zombies were still shuffling around the neighborhood.

In this case, there’s nothing implied. We don’t think John wants to go out at all, zombies or no zombies; we know John doesn’t want to go out. We’re then shown that there are zombies still roaming around, but we have a totally different John. The first John wanted to go out, but was scared. This second John just doesn’t want to go out, then we find out why; he’s so scared, he isn’t even considering going outside.

Would changed absolutely everything, so there is a time to use it, but the writer/editor has to know what they want to portray.

Let’s look at one more example.

John didn’t go outside. Hordes of zombies were still shuffling around the neighborhood.

In this case, it is implied that John wants to go outside, and then we find out why he doesn’t go, but we’re led to believe that he will venture outdoors at some point, so we’re expecting something to happen, but what? We don’t know, so this creates a degree of tension, expectation.

In the end, I won’t say that there’s a right or wrong way to do something; I’ll leave that conclusion up to you, but I will say that there is a time and a place to use certain words, that every word has a special impact on storytelling, and that it is extremely important for a writer/editor to read the work as a reader, because the reader is not in our mind, and we must convey to them what to think, feel, and know.

Thank you.

Visit my editing services tab, too!

A Word

 

Most of the questions I’m personally asked are about specific details regarding the editing process of a novel or story during or after the writing process.

Today, I will cover the word.

A single word can make or break a story. How? Well, let’s see….

What if you read the word lanky? What image comes to mind? What if you read the word thin or wiry? Do different images come to mind?

Let’s look at a single sentence now.

The lanky man walked down the street.

What do you see?

How about: The thin man walked down the street.

Or: The wiry man walked down the street.

Different imagery comes to mind, right?

Generally, my advice to writers of all levels of expertise is to just get the story down, get it all down, get it all out of your mind and onto paper, or a screen, or whatever. Once everything is done then it’s time to edit, and this is where it gets complicated.

Writing the story is the easy part. Writing is really just getting out the sequential account of events, which transpire, but editing is turning those sequential accounts into an enjoyable story for people, and I assure you, readers read differently than writers, and this is why editors are a great go between; they read as both writers and readers; they understand what a writer is trying to say, and they turn it into something that readers understand.

So, let’s take a quick look at those words again. Thin, lanky, and wiry can all mean something similar, but a lanky person isn’t generally thought of as strong or tough. A thin person is usually thought of as attractive; TV tells us we should be thin. Wiry tends to connote strength; a wiry person is thin and maybe lanky, but they’re usually also a tad muscular, or tough, or stringy, and so all in all, each of those words brings unto a reader a different image, a different meaning.

Now, let’s try something a bit different.

The lanky man shuffled down the street.

This is different from a lanky man walking. Shuffling connotes a different meaning even though walking and shuffling are synonyms. Suddenly, a reader is locked into a new image; a man is shuffling, why?

It’s a common mistake that writers make; they choose a synonym only because they used another word of similar meaning on too many previous occasions. They think that because someone else walked earlier, they must use a similar but different word on the next passage, but this can be a mistake as it will make the reader wonder why someone was shuffling when there seems to be no cause for shuffling, which means that everything before and everything after the shuffling must be tied together, which is why it’s important to make these changes during the editing process and not the writing process; the author can then have a better idea of the imagery they’ve already introduced.

So, let’s take a look at a more complicated situation.

It was a hot day, and John decided to stay inside until it subsided. From his living room, he caught sight of a lanky man walking down the street. Whoever the person was, John didn’t recognize him.

Nothing wrong with the above paragraph; it provides the reader everything they need to know; it’s hot, which is why John is indoors, and that’s why he saw someone, who is lanky.

Now, a writer must consider many things; what happened before? What happens next? Why is any of this important? Is this a novel? Is this a short story? What is the genre?

Now, you’re asking, “What does this have to do with changing a single word, and how does it make or break a story?”

Well, buckle up.

If the preceding paragraph has already tackled the weather, John’s setting, or the man then it’s important to avoid being redundant, and changing a single word can have that effect.

If the following paragraph follows up on the man rather than John, the setting, or the weather then it becomes important to choose the right words in order to lead into the next idea, and again, a single word can make all the difference.

If this is a novel then a reader will want to know as much as possible about anything germane to the story, but if this is a short story then there are probably a great many things, which require no explanation. In other words, if this is a novel, the writer should probably focus on creating a more complex paragraph, but this also depends on the scene; will it be an action scene, or is it a form a foreshadowing, or this just a framing device to set up another chain of events?

What genre is this? Is this horror? Is this a fantasy? Is it scifi?

Let’s play with the paragraph.

It was a blistering day….

By changing hot to blistering, the reader has a different notion of how hot it is, but that word is also different from hot in another way; we can no longer continue the sentence as it was originally provided.

It doesn’t make sense to say: It was a blistering day, and John decided to stay inside until it subsided.

Until what subsided? The day? No, the heat, which we knew as readers when we read the original paragraph, so by changing a single word, if we don’t change another word later in the same sentence, we break the story.

We have to write instead: It was a blistering day, and John decided to stay inside until the heat subsided.

This first sentence has now taken on a whole new life. Yes, we still know that John is inside because it was hot, but now we know how hot; we’ve all experienced summer days so hot, we had to stay inside until the heat subsided. Changing a single word, which forced us to change another, has now made this sentence far more relatable and meaningful.

Now, let’s play around some more. What if this is a horror short story about zombies?

It was a hot day, and John decided to stay inside until it subsided. From his living room, he caught sight of a lanky zombie walking down the street. Whoever the person was, John didn’t recognize him.

Obviously, I changed man to zombie, but that’s not important because everything else is exactly the same, however, since the reader will know it’s a horror short about zombies, they expect to read a horror about zombies, so let’s change a word.

From his living room, he caught sight of an emaciated zombie walking down the street.

Whoa, emaciated is way better than lanky. Now, you say, “Lanky and emaciated don’t mean the same thing; they aren’t synonyms.”

You’re right, sort of; emaciated is a synonym for thin or skinny, which are synonyms for lanky, but since this is a horror, it’s important to use a more terrifying word that elicits a fearful image, and lanky doesn’t scare anyone, but is emaciated the right word?

How about: From his living room, he caught sight of a cadaverous zombie walking down the street.

Now, we’re on to something; cadaverous makes us think of something already dead, but doesn’t cadaverous zombie sound redundant? We know it’s dead, kind of, I mean, it’s a zombie….

Here, we have another case of a single word breaking the story, whereas emaciated made the story better, but it doesn’t end there.

If a writer really wants to tune up that sentence, they might try: From his living room, he caught sight of a cadaverous creature shuffling down the street.

Yes, a total of three words have been changed, but it’s a chained effect caused by changing that one word, lanky, and following it up to make a sentence more palatable for an audience, and more appropriate for the genre in question. It cannot be denied that the later sentence is far and away more horrifying than the previous one.

If all this sounds complicated, it is; editing is no picnic, and a competent editor has to do a lot of work to make a story worth reading, and it’s also why editors aren’t hired until after a story is completely written; we can’t edit without knowing what happened before, during, and after a set of events, and neither can the author choose the correct words, neither can the audience understand the writer’s meaning, but taking some time to understand the art of writing rather than just jotting down a sequential account of events will really help to make a story a far better read to the audience.

Visit my editing services tab, too!