How To Write Killer Fiction Part 9

-"anything that doesn't kill this book makes it stronger"

-"the-good-of-the-book-as-a-whole"-allows you to kiss that scene good-bye -cut away scaffolding and leave the building -work the arcs, making sure each plot point is built up to and gets full play -the important question: what am I revising for? for?

-plan on three or four full revisions, some carpentry, some textual Writer's Block Is a Gift-Use It Wisely -yeah, some gift. Where can I go to return it?

-the problem with chapter four may lie in chapter eight and vice versa -do the opposite of what you've been doing: if you've been expanding, try contracting if you've been contracting, try expanding -go deeper into character; maybe there's a good reason your character refuses to do what you want her to do -try freewriting on a scene that won't be in the finished book -go over all notes, all the way back to square one, and highlight what you love love -let go of everything that isn't working (use the out-takes file if it helps) -trust that you have more within you to replace what isn't working -once in a while, go to the beach and forget about your book. Let the plot simmer on the back burner of your mind "WHEN DO you write? How many hours a day do you write? Are you a morning writer? Do you have a schedule? Do you write a certain number of pages a day? Do you write on a computer or do you use a quill pen?

Do aspiring writers ask published writers questions like these because they think there's some magic answer that spells the difference between published and not-yet published?

The Writing Zone_ Perhaps they do, because the only certainty in the world of creative writing is that n.o.body quite knows what makes one person's words sing while someone else trying to tell the same story clunks along and struggles for expression. There are intangibles at work. There is a Zone you get into, a high not unlike the one runners are said to experience, a place where the words write you and your fingers zip along while your mind gets out of the way and lets it happen.

Getting to that state and staying there for as long as possible is the key to writing success.

Giving Yourself What You Need What it takes for you to get there and stay there is something I can't know. I know some of the things that work for me, and I know some of the things that break the mood so much that I lose the Zone. Every writer has to find out for himself what his optimal writing conditions are and then try to create those conditions as often as possible. Ask yourself one question: What am I willing to give up for my writing?

Am I willing to sleep one hour less? Am I willing to forgo two evenings of television in favor of two evenings at the computer keyboard? Can I stop reading my favorite authors while I develop my own style? (I've found that there are certain stages of the writing process during which I simply can't pick up someone else's book, and for a woman who once read five mysteries a week, that's a hard trade-off.) A word to the self-indulgent (and aren't we all?): Giving yourself what you need isn't the same as giving yourself what you'd like to have. Sometimes you're not in the Zone and there's no way you're going to get there, but you have to write anyway because you've got a deadline. What I do in these situations is "lay track." I know I'm not writing at my best, but I'm putting words on the page and sketching out scenes I'll go back and beef up later on. Once in a while, the Zone creeps up on me and I find myself doing more than just laying track, but even if all I've done is put down the rails, at least I've contributed to the final product.

Letting Go The second part of giving yourself what you need is adding to your bank of experience. Writers who spend a lot of time alone in front of computers miss out on life, and life, after all, is what we're writing about.

Although I tend to agree with whoever it was who said, "Some say life is the thing, but I prefer reading," I'll admit that it feels good to get up out of the chair and enter the world after a long session with imaginary people. It feels good to use my body, to engage nature even if all that means is pulling weeds out of the front yard. It's nice to see friends, to catch up with the latest movies, to let your mind take a vacation from the intense creative process.

Preparing for Publication Okay, I understand. That walk in the park was nice, but your brain overflows with The Book, The Whole Book, and Nothing But the Book. If you can't write the thing right this minute, at least you can plan for the next step in your writing career.

How Publis.h.i.+ng Has Changed Your professional career path begins with the choice of a publis.h.i.+ng house. In today's highly concentrated corporate environment, a few mega-houses in New York City use imprints that make it appear as if there are twenty to thirty big publishers, when the truth is that there are now fewer than ten. For example, The Bertelsmann Book Group owns Random House, Ballantine, Fawcett, Bantam Doubleday Dell, Crown Books, and Knopf. Your professional career path begins with the choice of a publis.h.i.+ng house. In today's highly concentrated corporate environment, a few mega-houses in New York City use imprints that make it appear as if there are twenty to thirty big publishers, when the truth is that there are now fewer than ten. For example, The Bertelsmann Book Group owns Random House, Ballantine, Fawcett, Bantam Doubleday Dell, Crown Books, and Knopf.

So what? Why do you care?

Once upon a time, in the good old days, your agent submitted your book to, say, Random House. Once the Random House editor turned her down, she submitted to Bantam. If they weren't thrilled, she moved on to Ballantine. She might even choose to send your ma.n.u.script as a multiple submission, querying all those editors at once and hoping that all three wanted it enough to start a nice little bidding war for the privilege of paying you an advance.

No more. Now you and your agent had better select the best imprint within the giant corporate family and pitch hard, because no bidding wars will break out between editors whose separate imprints belong to the same big house. You have a scant few opportunities to break in to ma.s.s market publication, and you'd better make the most of them.

Hence the ABC list.

The ABC List Think of it as being asked to the prom. Who's your first choice of escort? If that boy doesn't ask you, who's next on the list? As you move down the ladder of social desirability, whom would you settle for? Is there anyone you'd rather stay home than go to the prom with?

If you're seventeen, it's good to know all this before that nerdy kid with asthma walks up and asks you to the dance and you're so fl.u.s.tered you say yes and then you hear that cool guy from the band really wanted to ask you but you already said yes to the dork because you felt sorry for him and here you are stuck with your D choice when you could have had at least a B.

In other words, have a game plan. Know which are the A publishers for your kind of book and which are the Ds. Then start the submission process with the As and only after all the As have turned you down move on to the Bs, and so forth. Don't let yourself be scooped up by a C publisher when A-level publication was available to you. And you can only know you could have had an A house by submitting to all the A houses and letting their editors see your work.

How can you tell an A from a D?

Research. Name recognition. Number of books on the best-seller's list. Authors you've heard of on their roster. Making sure they publish mysteries, if that's what you're writing. Any number of houses have ostensibly dropped their mystery lines, although they remain open to suspense reads that sell into the millions.

How do you know which authors they publish?

Aha-here's the part you can work on while you're recharging your writing batteries.

Go to a bookstore and look at the books on the mystery shelf. Check the suspense novels; see which houses publish books like yours. Run the authors' names through a search engine and check out the publisher's website.

Start compiling your A list based on big books with a fair amount of promotion behind them.

What's promotion? How can you tell when a publisher is pus.h.i.+ng a certain writer?

Do you see print ads for the book in major markets? Is the book in a special place in the bookstore, not just on the shelf under the author's last name? Those cardboard book holders at the checkout counter are called "dumps" and they cost money. A publisher who buys a dump for its mystery/suspense writers is a publisher to be cherished.

Watch for "starter houses," which in publis.h.i.+ng means houses that writers leave as soon as they sell a few books and see bigger money somewhere else. Get to know which writers started where and which houses they're at now. Starter houses are fine on your B and C lists, but they don't belong with the As.

Hard vs. Soft, Big vs. Small, Paper vs. Electronic It used to be that if you didn't have a hardcover, you didn't have a book. Paperback original was less-than. It didn't get reviewed (still doesn't, for the most part), and it didn't get respect. It used to be that if you didn't have a hardcover, you didn't have a book. Paperback original was less-than. It didn't get reviewed (still doesn't, for the most part), and it didn't get respect.

But then a strange thing happened. Writers who started soft sold an amazing number of books (vide John D. MacDonald) and the houses that published them decided to put them in hardcover and keep the paperback rights. The hard-soft deal was born. And the start-soft-and-work-your-way-up-to-hard career path became a well-worn trail. John D. MacDonald) and the houses that published them decided to put them in hardcover and keep the paperback rights. The hard-soft deal was born. And the start-soft-and-work-your-way-up-to-hard career path became a well-worn trail.

So one question you'll have to answer for yourself: Do I put any paperback original houses on my A list?

The answer may depend upon what you're writing. Lightweight category mysteries (such as cozies that depend upon a gimmick) may do very well in paper and then work their way to hard by the old-fas.h.i.+oned method of upping the sales figures with each successive book. What this means for you the author is intensive self-promotion for the first few t.i.tles (and winning awards wouldn't hurt). Your goal is to increase sales of the paperbacks every time you come out with a new t.i.tle and then lobby hard for your publisher to bring you out in hardcover.

The alternative is to go for hardcover first (or better: a hard-soft deal that guarantees you a paperback appearance.) Hardcovers are bought mainly by libraries and collectors, at least when you're not well known, but the up side is that they get reviews, and good reviews can help you reach your audience.

Your final A list will probably be the big, prestigious houses based in New York. Your B list may be a mix of hard and soft; your C will probably be the independent small presses whose books are trade paperbacks and whose advances are minuscule. This is not to say that you won't enjoy seeing your work in print or that your book won't be appreciated by a loyal audience, reviewed by the mystery publications, and eligible for awards. It is to say you won't get rich unless a major house likes what it sees and makes you an offer.

D list: the e-publishers, and the self-publis.h.i.+ng print-on-demand options. Which is not to say that people who self-publish or who use nontraditional means aren't really published, just that these are avenues to explore after you've exhausted the more traditional means.

There is a body of opinion that "it isn't worth it anymore for a new author to go through the process of trying to get published by big traditional houses." So says romantic suspense writer Penny Sansevieri, who published her first book, The Cliffhanger, The Cliffhanger, through Xlibris, which offers a print-on-demand option. Writers pay from $500 to $1700 to get their books in print, far less than the old-fas.h.i.+oned vanity presses, and Amazon.com will list an e-book for a small fee, so that the book essentially becomes available worldwide. Print-on-demand books have made it to regional best-seller's lists, and as Sansevieri also says, "the beauty of print on demand is that I can build a track record, then go to the bigger houses and say, 'Look what I can do on my own.'" through Xlibris, which offers a print-on-demand option. Writers pay from $500 to $1700 to get their books in print, far less than the old-fas.h.i.+oned vanity presses, and Amazon.com will list an e-book for a small fee, so that the book essentially becomes available worldwide. Print-on-demand books have made it to regional best-seller's lists, and as Sansevieri also says, "the beauty of print on demand is that I can build a track record, then go to the bigger houses and say, 'Look what I can do on my own.'"

Finding Editor Right a.s.suming that you prefer to explore traditional options first, you're getting a good handle on which publishers you'd like to work with. But you also realize that a letter sent To Whom It May Concern won't cut it. You need a specific editor whose taste you can predict, someone whose track record says, "I like the kind of books you write." a.s.suming that you prefer to explore traditional options first, you're getting a good handle on which publishers you'd like to work with. But you also realize that a letter sent To Whom It May Concern won't cut it. You need a specific editor whose taste you can predict, someone whose track record says, "I like the kind of books you write."

More research. But look on the bright side: this is what you do when you hit the inevitable I Hate This Book stage. Go to your local big-box bookstore, grab a double mocha, and glide among the shelves taking notes. Which publishers publish the writers who are most like you? Which ones have a hole in their lineup because they just lost their dog/ horse/quilt/cooking/Roman/cat/gardening/Victorian mystery writer?

Now pick a book from the shelves and open it up. Check the Acknowledgments section, then peruse the dedication. What you're looking for is the "To Susie Creamcheese, Editor Extraordinaire" kind of thing, because what it tells you is that Ms. Creamcheese is a big fan of psychic mysteries and that's what you write, so why not send her the ma.n.u.script of Seances Are Murder? Seances Are Murder?

Unless the book is in the New Books section of the store, you'd better check to see if Susie is still with MegaPublis.h.i.+ng Group or if she's gone over to Colossal Books. You can find this information in the Writer's Digest Writer's Market Writer's Market yearbooks or in yearbooks or in Literary Marketplace. Literary Marketplace. Both are available in libraries, so save your money and plan to spend several afternoons looking up names you've collected from the bookstore. Both are available in libraries, so save your money and plan to spend several afternoons looking up names you've collected from the bookstore.

Wait a minute-doesn't my agent do all this? Why am I haunting the mystery section of my bookstore in Iowa City when the New York agent who's going to represent me knows every editor within a twenty-block radius of her Madison Avenue office?

Because a writer who hands her entire career over to an agent and takes no active part in choosing her editor is a writer who isn't thinking clearly. By the time you're ready for an agent, you should be able to discuss your future publis.h.i.+ng options with confidence. Talk to writers at conferences, meet as many agents and editors as you can, learn about the business you're about to enter, and never forget that once you've finished putting words on the page it is a business. Mind your own business.

Back to the Zone Then get back to work. Start a Great Agent Hunt file, an ABC List file, keep adding more data as you acquire more information, but put the pre-publis.h.i.+ng research on the back burner and get back into your writing routine.

E.M. Forster says a writer either allocates a certain number of hours per day to the job or chooses a number of pages to complete by the end of a writing session. I find that the "hours per day" option works when I'm in the outlining phase, but once I start the actual writing, setting a page number works better for me.

I'm also a spurt writer, so there are times I just glue myself to the chair and write till my fingers are ready to fall off. The dangers there are twofold: thinking you're going to write like that every day and feeling let down when you can't, or deciding you've done so much work you might as well take a week off. If I succ.u.mb to that temptation, I'll soon find that my spurt actually cost me precious time because I've used more than the equivalent in recovering from it.

Revision time has special rhythms. It takes large chunks of time, not to mention s.p.a.ce, to get the big-picture revision out of the way. It can't be done solely on the computer screen, and it can't be done in twenty-minute increments.

When Is It Finished?_ You've ripped it to shreds at least three times. You've laid it out in piles on the floor and s.h.i.+fted papers frantically from one pile to another. You've cut and pasted, made notes for revision in at least four different colors of ink, you've shown it to all your friends and incorporated their better suggestions into your rewrite. You've worked the arcs and tinkered with your chaptering and firmed up that sagging middle. You've beefed up the ending and slashed the beginning. You've given all your your characters jobs and you've linked your subplots so that nothing's hanging out there all by itself. characters jobs and you've linked your subplots so that nothing's hanging out there all by itself.

You've line-edited to the point where you could recite all of chapter one in your sleep. You've cut the adverbs, strengthened the verbs, and specified the nouns. You've consciously created metaphors and crafted dialogue that jumps off the page. There isn't an ounce of flab in your taut, spare prose and your t.i.tle is a work of art in itself.

You've checked for errors, using your computer's spell-checker and then eyeballing the book for grammar and punctuation mistakes. You've given the book to someone else for proofreading and corrected all mistakes in the computer before printing out.

Before you, on a table or in your lap sits a pristine, clean, fresh copy that, as far as your human ability can make it, is absolutely, totally perfect.

You start to read.

You tell yourself you're reading it over one more time just to make sure there's nothing more to fix, but that isn't true.

You're reading it over one more time because it's so d.a.m.n good. because it's so d.a.m.n good.

That, my friends, is "finished."

Enjoy "finished" for a little bit. Let the pride wash over you and bask in the glow of your achievement. There is a great gulf fixed, not between the published and the not-yet-published, but between the finished and the not-yet-finished. Once you've completed an entire ma.n.u.script-and by "completed" I mean fully revised and ready to send out into the world to be seen by people not related to you-you've taken a giant step toward your goal of becoming a real writer. You can never go back to your earlier innocence. You can never whine and say, "Oh, I could never write a whole novel all by myself. It would be too hard."

You've done it. And it was was hard. But now you know exactly how hard it is and hard. But now you know exactly how hard it is and you know that it wasn't too hard for you to actually accomplish. you know that it wasn't too hard for you to actually accomplish. You know that any time you're truly ready to make the commitment of time, energy, and perfectionism, you can do it again. You know that any time you're truly ready to make the commitment of time, energy, and perfectionism, you can do it again.

So enjoy it.

Then start the next one.

Buckle up your seat belt and start the climb up the roller coaster, antic.i.p.ating the plunge that will have you screaming in ecstatic terror (or terrified ecstasy, your choice). Enter the big clown head and turn left at the skeleton, making your way toward the Hall of Mirrors. Come back to the playground and never forget the most important thing of all when it comes to writing.

Have fun.