10 things I learned about writing in 2016

I’ve just spent my first full year as an agented writer after years of learning how to write children’s fiction. In no particular order, here are my lightbulb moments of the last 12 months: things I’ve realized that have helped me most in my development as a writer this year.

  1. Beautiful writing abhors repetition, unless deliberate. There’s a fabulous, funny example of intentional repetition in BECAUSE YOU’LL NEVER MEET ME, one of my top reads of last year.
  2. Transcendent writing says something about the human condition. Frances Hardinge writes exquisite sentences I could happily live inside for a month, but it’s the insights that pepper her work that make feel wiser, and changed, after finishing one of her books.
  3. Revision always hurts and is always worth it. Wonderful pieces of writing may get cut during this process. Lin Manuel Miranda said this better than I can recently: “You don’t cut because it’s not good, you cut because it’s about serving the story and momentum. Editing would be EASY if just bad bits fell away.” Remove whatever’s needed and work hard to go deeper, closer, realer.
  4. Making up words is okay (viz. RIVERKEEP).
  5. Length doesn’t buy us depth as writers. LAST STOP ON MARKET STREET has 757 words and yet it’s heartbreakingly profound. I also learned that one of my favourite books of 2016 was given a last-minute edit just before press by its author, who pared back 3000 words at the 11th hour.
  6. To write something worth reading, the story must be in me and I in the story. The manuscript I’ve just given to my agent was ostensibly for my daughter when I first drafted it two years ago. But I realized during early edits that this wasn’t enough. I located the place inside myself that the story really sprang from, and that’s what brought it to another, stronger place. James Scott Bell talks about this in PLOT AND STRUCTURE: the need for a personal resonance in the stories we choose to write.
  7. Experimentation is good: challenging myself with new forms is worth the risk. I discovered that a story told from two points of view could work, but I had to let go of the metronome-like regularity (even back-and-forth between both characters, interspersed by an outside insert) of the first structure I tried; loosening up a bit helped the narrative function better.
  8. Beginnings matter. This fantastic blog from Jennie Nash talks about the need for confidence from the very first line. Some of my writing friends said they felt the need for hooky openers is overstated these days, but I disagree. If we can write, why not write something memorable, right from the starting gun? Maybe this is an impulse from my copywriting day job, where every syllable counts. A captivating first line is large part of my satisfaction as a reader, and I’ll do all I can to deliver the same experience for my readers. I’ve just finished listening to the audiobook of A CHRISTMAS CAROL and Dickens knew what he was on about in this regard. “Marley was dead: to begin with.”
  9. I need to read my drafts cold and be honest with myself. In my most recent story, character motivation wasn’t strong enough, stakes were too low and the goal unclear. I prioritized the changes I had to make, took my agent’s advice on which areas were dragging, and got to work. The new draft made us both a lot happier.
  10. If editing feels hardest as I near the end of the story, that’s because it is. And that’s okay. Writer Vikki King said (I’m paraphrasing) the work of writing a story is in three parts – the first 75%, the next 20% and the final 5% – and the secret of success is putting the same amount of effort into all three parts. Think on that.

What were your lightbulb moments as a writer this year? I am actively seeking tips – please let me know your insights below. 

 

Image from Sheng-Fa Lin on Flickr https://flic.kr/p/CeuUD

Plot, structure, death, death and more death

Edinburgh Central Library SCBWI workshop

I’m fixated on plot and structure at the moment – you may be, too, if you’re a writer tackling revisions on a work in progress or a NaNoWriMo draft from last year.

This year, for the first time, I’m editing a manuscript that I’ve left for a long, long rest. I wrote it more than a year ago. I haven’t let a first draft sit for so long before, but I’ve been tied up with revisions on my middle grade sci-fi which is on submission (gulp, choke) with publishers. I completely credit plot and structure thinkers like Darcy Pattison and James Scott Bell with helping me get that manuscript this far – it was their advice that helped me turn my earlier draft of the sci-fi story into something stronger.

If you haven’t read NOVEL METAMORPHOSIS (which was the one craft book that all four tutors at the BookBoundUK Retreat I attended in 2014 unanimously recommended) definitely get a hold of it. I’m also slightly addicted currently to James Scott Bell’s WRITE YOUR NOVEL FROM THE MIDDLE.

Here in Edinburgh our SCBWI Southeast Scotland network hosted a workshop by Scottish YA author Christina Banach earlier this month, giving a quick tour of Bell’s plot and structure techniques. Places were limited and sold out quickly for that intensive, but I did a write up of the plot workshop here for Words and Pictures, the SCBWI British Isles magazine, if you want to read up.

What struck me most about the day was the renewed focus it gave me on plot stakes and character “death” – be that physical, emotional (“dying inside”) or professional death – as James Scott Bell discusses in his various structure books.

In fact, on reading THE LIE TREE recently by Frances Hardinge – it’s just won the overall Costa award here in the UK, deservedly so – it struck me that all three kinds of death are grappled with, both within the main character and within her father who she so admires. In fact the whole story could be described as “death by Victorianism;” wow, that era knew how to make folk suffer.

Reflect and snap

I’ve been trying to reflect more on my writing, as my SCBWI buddy Louise Kelly recommended; Snapchat has been useful for this, as it lets me scrapbook images and video clips that capture what I’m thinking about the revising process.

If you don’t know Snapchat, you’re probably not aged 18 to 24; neither am I. But it may be worth investigating, because it does make keeping a video diary quite easy. Although it first began as a straight messaging app, similar to Skype, Snapchat now lets anyone post pictures and videos to their “story,” a.k.a. public timeline, visible to anyone.

Snapchat poses huge challenges, though, for those of us trying to get a handle on it – and not just because all content vanishes after 24 hours. There are also no hashtags, no lists as on Twitter, and no way to search public timelines, although the user directory can be searched by user name. It’s like a treasure hunt, finding publishing peeps to follow, but some cool folks I’m following on Snapchat include mega-agent Suzie Townsend, plus Chronicle Books and Quirk Books (sztownsend81, ChronicleBooks and QuirkBooks).

I’m cobbling together my snaps in YouTube, but there’s not much there at the moment – could be useful, however, if you’re an author curious about how others are using Snapchat. I’M NO EXPERT, but I am rather enjoying what it’s doing for my vow to be more reflective.

Whatever you’re working on, I hope your writing’s going well. You can find me on Twitter here or add me on Snapchat at sheilamaverbuch.