THE BREAKOUT NOVEL as a FATA MORGANA

 

If you haven’t heard the term breakout novel, a short definition would be –

“A breakout novel is a book that dramatically elevates an author's career by achieving unexpected, significant commercial success, generating major buzz, and introducing them to a much wider audience, often becoming a bestseller through strong word-of-mouth and a unique, emotionally resonant premise that sets it apart. It's the pivotal book that moves an author from obscurity or mid-list status into literary stardom.”

 

A post about a writer who experienced it after years of writing is here.

 

When I began writing in a disciplined way, i.e. with the intention of being published, it didn’t occur to me that one could waddle on the periphery of the published writers’ sphere and then one day—

BOOM! ZANG! BANG! Confetti falling from the sky, phone ringing with requests for interviews, and fan letters pouring in.  

This, because it hardly ever happens. One could omit the word “hardly” and be accurate in saying it never happens. This is a realistic way to think of it.

 

It did happen to Dan Brown who wrote (and published) for a time before The da Vinci Code sent him to confetti land. It happened to others. But most writing folks are laboring without publication or pushing one-at-a-time published books with little traction propelling forward.

 

As years pass, the breakout novel feels like the opportunity to make a difference in a writer’s trajectory is akin to a Fata Morgana, or a vision of an oasis that is always out there, but never here.

 

And that’s okay, because the journey is rich regardless.

STOP TRYING TO CALM THE STORM

 

CALM YOURSELF, THE STORM WILL PASS

 

Some months back, I found myself in the middle of a cascading chain of events that made no sense, were disturbing, and of which I tried to exert control and fix.

Yet, every fix created another chain and not one of the people or entities involved would own their part in the problem. Some were possibly blameless, but it was impossible to tell who or what caused this.

 

I know I sound vague, and someday I might write down the details of those months of discombobulation. I still get upset remembering it, so that day isn’t here.

 

This is what I came away with on the constructive side, which is to say that I learned something going forward. The pivotal key, the thing most needful, is to calm the waters inwardly. The raging storm may dissolve into stillness on its own or may become a hurricane. But, beyond the commonsense actions to cope or even rescue, the storm’s story is its own and will run its course.

 

My responsibility is to work on having the grace and equanimity to better endure. I wish you all the same.

This: It will be fine, or it will be over. Repeat.

 

StoryWorth HAS BEEN WORTH IT

 

A little over a year ago, DD informed me that a gift from her was coming my way via the interwebs.

And, as it turned out, the gift was a program that prompted me to write a post every week and upload it to a website that would, at the end of a full year, make a hardcover book with all I have contributed.

The prompts were chosen by DD. Examples of such would be, “Who were your friends in high school?” and “Favorite memory from early childhood.”

 

I received this gift with joy and dread. Here’s an abbreviated list of why:

1.      My daughter is interested in my life 🤗

2.      My daughter will be reading what I have to say now and in years to come 😊

3.      Does she think I need to be prompted to keep the writing gears going? 😕

4.      In addition to stories, I already write a weekly blog. Now I have an additional weekly assignment 😓

 

A year later, I can report that these prompts have been a delight, not a burden at all. Now that the book is done, I will miss it. StoryWorth is the name of this program, but there are others like it, and from my personal point of view it has been worth my while.

 

I will add a caveat to be aware of. I have no confidence that this operation (or others like it) is free of data mining. Even as they promise to guard your text from such (it isn’t publicly visible or published) the vehicle is the company’s files. Even if they do not share, there is no guarantee they won’t sell their application to another company in the future, and that company would pay them a good sum not for the paltry fee the users pay, but for the wealth of private data they would have access to. Some sites still use details in their security questions that one should never put out on the ether, ever. These “security” access questions are thankfully giving way to better ways, such as pins or keys in one’s possession only. But still, think of this when you use any of these services.

Mindful of that, I typed not a single detail/name/date that isn’t already easily available to the data miners. I was still able to put out my thoughts and real-life stories for fifty-two weeks.

The Faulty Concept of WRITERS’ RETREATS

 

Years ago, I was asked by a good friend (not a writer or artist) if I had a writing retreat I go to in order to, what else, write.

 

I laughed because this was not in the budget and in no way part of my lifestyle. I was a mother of young children who were never in daycare or even had a babysitter. There was no place for sequestering on a retreat, period.

 

There still isn’t. I write where I live. I write from my real life. My creative life is part of my daily life. The very notion of retreats is to separate from one’s life/work/dear ones, and to dis-connect. Un-connect. It’s about disrupting connectivity.

 

I don’t get it, and likely never will.

 

I chuck it to romantic notions emanating from another age. Today, these so-called retreats are commercial enterprises and, frankly, an abuse of true creative reality. There’s a whole industry of these retreats and it’s booming.

 

If you want to take a break from the hustle-bustle, by all means do. Call it a vacation. Call it a break. Let’s not wrap breaking from real life a “creative retreat.”

 

I’d love a nice vacation. If I go, I will not be writing but reclining and sipping a delicious beverage with my feet up.

 

Writing is real work.

Why “ASPIRING” Should be Struck from Our Self-definition

 

I’ve blogged about this before, but the thorny matter of artists calling themselves “aspiring artist/musician/writer” continues to sting.

 

This post here reminded me, again, of the faux diminution of this word.

 

If you would like to do something but aren’t doing it (yet, or ever), then you “aspire” to do or be it.

 

If you are doing it, you are not an aspirant. If you write, you are a writer. If you paint, you are a painter. If you compose music, you are a composer. Perhaps you aspire to have commercial or financial success and haven’t (yet or ever) achieved it. But you are not aspiring to be what you are already.

 

Just do it. Once you do, you are.

*THE END*

WHO DO YOU WRITE FOR?

 

You may be right to take the title of this post two ways. The first is asking about the imaginary audience for one’s words and stories. The second is a ballsy/HUTZPA, more a challenge than a question, as in— who you imagine is even reading what you write. 😝

 

I will ignore the second, because it’s rude and also fruitless. Whether it is two, twenty, two thousand or twenty thousand, when writing-- we just can’t know. It isn’t helpful to creative motivation.

 

But the first is relevant.

 

When I was twelve, I began writing a diary. Diaries, so many say, are for oneself only. Mine wasn’t. I addressed all entries to one specific person who was unlikely to ever read them, but I needed to see this person in my mind when I wrote.

 

Later, in my teens, I always had a person in mind when I wrote a story. But the person changed from story to story.

 

When I began writing in earnest in my late thirties, I visualized no one. It became clear to me that the person I wrote for was my younger self, the one at the intended audience’s age.

 

I still write my novels for eleven-year-old me, and my picture books-- for six-year-old me.

 

No matter what a writer will tell you, there is someone in their mind when they write. Otherwise, it is a soulless mechanical exercise using how-to formulas. Yes, we’ve all encountered those when giving feedback and even, rarely, in published works.

 

Like prayer, real writing is addressing someone. This post is for you. 🙌

SHARING FIVE TAKEAWAYS from a Webinar

 

A few months have passed since I attended a so-called “closed” webinar with a senior editor in one of the big-five publishing houses, and so I feel no shame in sharing the main takeaways for all who are knocking on publishers’ doors.

 

This sort of insider’s view should not be a secret. There are many misconceptions floating on the interwebs, and writers (who the editor remined us— are the bedrock of publishing) have it hard enough already.

 

Takeaway #1

For the big-five and their imprints, you need an agent. We knew this, but it was emphasized as in no real exceptions, period. Forget about special openings or contests.

This ties to the last takeaway, but bear with me.

 

Takeaway #2

For debut fiction*, whether kidlit or adult, your web-presence is not a consideration for acquisitions. Someone asked about the number of Facebook friends and the editor said that “Facebook isn’t a thing anymore.” Nor are any of the other digital town squares. Just make sure you haven’t made hordes of zany cuckoo comments, which if you’re agented is likely not an issue. (Agents weed for this before taking writers on.)

*Non-fiction is a different story

 

Takeaway #3

Yes, it is harder now to get traditionally published. It was never easy and it’s been hard forever. But since the pandemic closures it’s harder, as in much harder. If you had the fortitude to plow forward before, you must double down now. It’s the same trek only steeper.

 

Takeaway #4

The theme, plot, pace--- all must quicken the reading editor’s heart. But none of those matter as much as the quality of the prose. If the writing voice doesn’t “pop,” the big-five editor just moves on to the next submission to be rejected.

 

Takeaway #5

Who your agent is matters a whole lot. Editors remember agents who have sent them “yawners” and “un-sparkling” submissions before. They remember agents they didn’t like dealing with. Worse, they are aware of the bestselling writers the agent also represents or if they don’t have any A-list writers as clients. There is a definite hierarchy in consideration of submissions depending on the agent’s standing.

 

This last takeaway may be the hardest insider’s view to hear.  

 

All that said, I will focus on the only thing in my control: write better.

The WHY of Writing

 

“To write is to fight forgetting.”

Annie Ernaux, Nobel laureate in literature 2022

 

 

Much is made of the impetus to write. Annie Ernaux is primarily a memoirist, and so the quotation above seems a perfect fit for her motivation. Fiction writing appears to be more about organizing one’s thoughts, ideas, and ideals. After all, what is there to forget when it comes to tales of the imagination?

 

I maintain that fiction is about truth, our truth, and by writing our truth down, carved of words-sentences-paragraphs-chapters-novels, we writers are fighting the human propensity to forget.

 

Fiction/fantasy is the cloak. The body is our truth as we make an attempt to chisel and give shape to it so it may be incorporated into the communal memory.

 

Fiction is often, nay— usually, bolder, and thus more honest. Ernaux is exceptionally honest, but in my experience only fiction allows a complete unveiling.

 

This is my mini-attempt to record and reveal my personal driving force. As the number of my years grows, I am fighting forgetting with increasing ferocity.

A PITCH with a PITCHFORK

 

Querying and pitching one’s work is a craft in itself. Books and hundreds of websites of how-to are devoted to this craft and will greet a searcher.

The bottom line is that pitching is competitive, and a pitch must stand out.

 

An article I read got me thinking about a thornier matter. This article suggests writers must pitch themselves (as in “I am the product”) before getting into the work they are offering.

 

I have to say this rubs me wrong. Nay, very wrong, especially for fiction, where you can’t box the imagination and narrative powers by saying, “I did such and such.” However, as wrong as it is, it’s also part of the truth regarding successful pitching.

 

Most how-to query formats say to start with the hook of the book and end with the cook, i.e., the writer. The art of good hooking sentence/paragraph could fill library shelves, and I have one small shelf of such in my room.

 

That’s rational. That’s how it should work.

Apparently, this isn’t how it works much of the time.

Of course, if (as in the examples cited in the post) the writer has won a Pulitzer or was the first to land an aircraft upside-down, (the aircraft or the pilot being bottom up) this alone is a hook of sorts. It gets attention. Sentence one will lead the publishing professional to read the next and, eventually (hopefully), a request to see more. That’s what pitching is about, after all.

 

But few have such monumental statements to make about self, and most pitching would wind up sounding like the “fun facts” many writers mistake for an interesting bio. You know, “I finished a jar of jelly beans in eight minutes and won the Jelly Queen title at the state fair” sort of nothings. I wrote a post about this before.

 

So what to do?

 

If you won a Pulitzer, it’s worth considering the selling-of-you in the first paragraph. I’m less inclined to agree with this for most of us, good hardworking storytellers.

 

Story comes first.

EVOCATIVE CALENDAR DATES

 

Ever note the day’s date and feel there is something significant that you ought to have remembered about it, but you draw a blank?

 

This happens to me now and then, and usually it involves someone’s birthday who I have lost touch with long ago. Sometimes it’s a calendar date I made a point to remember for practical reasons, (time to turn the mattress, time to begin watering the yard, time to check on a relative who should have completed a last round of chemotherapy) but it was long ago.

 

Today’s date is an easy one for me: it celebrates the birth of a wonderful person I was lucky to have known. He left this earth, but his mark on it is alive and continues to bless many.

Happy Birthday, Abba

The Un-power of TIK-TOK

On the eve of the camp horror-show that is Halloween, I am thinking of a different but also pseudo-horror our legislator have taken to sound alarm to.

You might be tempted to divide humanity not by nations, races, genders or whatever else. Instead, think of the TIK TOK app, and do it this way:

 

1.      The billion who love it

2.      The billion who see it as dangerous

3.      The billions who don’t know what it is and why others make such a fuss.

 

Call me old (you wouldn’t be wrong) and put me in the third category. Neither the charm nor the existential calamity of Tik- Tok manage to reach my consciousness.

 

Data sharing? All the tech apps and the companies behind them already do that. This includes this platform, Blogger, owned by Google. It seems no one does it better than Google, and who they sell it to is not an open book.

 

I wonder if this brouhaha isn’t a way of distracting Americans from real issues, only one of them having to do with China as a menace. These issues include but are not exclusive to our right to privacy, which (big news) is long gone.

 

The wild world of the Interwebs and smartphones have changed everything. We gave them this power. Tik-Tok is but a dot in a vast international matrix.

YOU WILL LAUGH, EVENTUALLY

 

Some months back, my trusty old computer stopped functioning. I learned that I shouldn’t trust a machine, which had the audacity to take with it much of the functionalities I had built in to suit the way I work, and many of my contacts.

 

I didn’t lose any work, because I had my files and photos backed up on a USB drive. Setting a second computer properly took time and this computer is not yet up to the one that was.

 

I can look back now, and see that I survived. There are (much) worse things.

 

But, at that time, I felt so lost and disconnected that I lamented to DD how I long for the innocent days of my childhood, when connecting meant seeing someone in person or writing a snail mail letter.

 

Her response, pasted here from Messenger (my phone worked):

“…Do you miss your boyhood in surrey, romping with your school chums in the fens and spinneys?”

And then she sent this link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?fbclid=IwAR1dU0AIpsn42MFtviaSRQhaDPb2Kjl2sSfGP9AaCuQ1AZcrkEKiJS-Cmk8&v=PM8WPZtnBAw&feature=youtu.be

 

It’s a brilliant section from an old episode of Frasier, a TV show we used to watch when she was but a youth. Her comment was a quotation from one of the characters in it, and her pointed reflection on the uselessness of nostalgia for “simpler times.”

 

I laughed. It made a difference.

 

Eventually, we laugh at so many things we had experienced as important.

There’s no point in lamenting what isn’t anymore.

 

Meanwhile, back up your computers, everyone.

VARIETY OF THE VARIED

 

You may have heard a variation of the phrase two people equals three opinions.

 

This phrase purports the notion that each pair of eyes sees a variation of an image, each pair of ears registers sounds as variations on a theme, and each person’s mind colors the same set of facts with a different hue.

 

I am reminded of this miracle every week, when my online picture book critique group gives feedback to a single manuscript. We share a group email thread so everyone can read others’ take.

 

I am usually the first or second to respond, and I give it all I’ve got. But when others’ feedback comes in I’m astounded at the points I missed, the typo I didn’t mark (less about that, because I’m Ms. Typo myself) and the essential fixes I never saw a need for when I read.

 

Conventional wisdom is to revise if more than one person highlights the same flaw. To be sure, there are matters most of us will note even as the offered fixes vary.

But it’s the singular opinions that strike me every time. Once pointed out, they pulsate in neon as so obvious I wonder how I missed such in my feedback.

 

 

Which is my way of appreciating the dynamic and usefulness of a good group.

©Image by Diane Kress Hower

http://pensandbrushes.weebly.com/

PASS THE PASSPORT(S)

 

For some, 'tis travel time. The other day I discovered yet another ranking list, one I would never have thought of.

 

It’s the ranking of passports. See here, and also here.

 

These rankings have to do with how many countries do not require a visa from the passport holder. The more, the “better” the passport, as in allowing its holder greater travel freedom.

 

Only about a third of Americans have a valid passport at any time, and the feeling of belonging to a good or “best” country has little to do with how many other nations approve of ours. But a good passport is no trifle.

 

I say this, because I know two people who are in the process they hope will eventually give them a US passport, and loving what the country stands for is less than half their impetus to undergo this lengthy and expensive course.

 

Their number one reason is to have a passport that makes travelling easier.

 

From birth I held (or was entitled to hold) two passports. One is ranked 4th in passports, the other 17^th. (Some differences depending on which ranking, but the disparity is the same.) My love for both countries is real. But, trust me, in the days I travelled more the passport ranking did make a difference.  

 

We take so much for granted. Being part of a strong country is yet another thing to appreciate when it comes to life’s fortunes, which in my case I hadn’t had to struggle for.

 

Americans are fortunate in many ways. This is just one more to be grateful for.

REFLECTIONS ON THE UMPTEENTH DRAFT

 

There is a truth universally proclaimed, that artists are never happy with their own work.

For writers, this means feelings of loathsomeness when reading their own writing.

So, what is one supposed to think if when revising draft number (take your pick: three, thirteen, thirty-three) you find yourself liking your own writing?

There is no place to put such a feeling. You feel like a freak. But there it is.

Me likey!

Wishes of joy to all who make things. It’s allowed. Even the greatest creator of all gave themselves this permission:

“God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.” Genesis 1:31

*For more on how not to buy into the myth of the self-immolating creative and how to enjoy the writing journey, I wholeheartedly recommend Jane Yolen’s TAKE JOY

MINI-MILES

 

In life, there are major celebratory milestones. The day you got engaged, married, realized you were expecting a child, the day your child was born, and more.

Anyone can recognize these, and everyone you share it with gets it. These are monumental moments.

Then, there are the mini monuments. These are just as meaningful, but in a private way. The day you first realized you were in love with a pimply classmate, the day you first got your period, or the day your child told you they loved you more than ice-cream. Even if shared, these moments would not feel monumental to most others.

 

It is the same for the writing journey.

 

The big milestones everyone recognizes—

*The day you get a reputable literary agent (Been there 😊)

*The day your manuscript goes to acquisitions (Been there 😅)

* The day you have a traditional paying offer to publication (Been there 😲)

*The day your book comes out (Been there 😀)

*The day you get your first unsolicited good review (Been there 😄)

*The day you get the first advance check (Been there 😉)

*The day one of your books hits the best sellers list (Never been there and can’t manage to imagine 😜)

 

And then, there are the mini-milestones, ones that only another writer can understand. They are also grand, but only a few could possibly “get it”—

*The day you finish a first draft to a novel 🙌

*The day you manage to fix a serious plot hole that seemed fatal only a day earlier 👍

*The day you overcame a state of ennui as you drafted, because you realized what the story is really about 👈

*Any of the days you managed to pen a nifty (though dreaded) synopsis of your work 😇

 

Been there, to all the mini milestones above, many times. It never gets old.

 

 

All of the above are felt deeply, but the celebration goes on with you and only your writing friends, if you choose to share.

LITERARY?

 

 I see this question posted often in places where writers ask each other (or ask publishing professionals.)~~

Is my writing literary?

And, for that matter, what does “literary” mean?

 

I’ve seen agents and editors say that literary writing is both beautiful, rich in vocabulary, subtle, and layered.

Strictly speaking, any good book is all the above, and many good books aren’t classified as literary.

 

My understanding is that literary writing makes allusions to other literary writing. The layers are the reliance on literature that came before. If you have not read old literature, you will miss the allusions and the reading will not be as rich, but it would be satisfying, regardless.

 

A writer is literary because they have studied, read, absorbed much literature, and their writing can’t help but be grounded in past works. A literary writer inhabits the world of literature of yore.

 

 Good writers who may not be writing literary fiction tell stories in their own voice, which may be matter of fact even as the stories have distinct style. Good storytelling does not have to be literary, and literary fiction may at times not be great storytelling.

Regardless, it’s not something to worry about.

COOKING and COUNTING CLICKS

 

i.e. “LIKES”

Ever since Blogger figured how to not count bots or any mechanical un-peopled viewers, the viewing counting on my posts went from over a thousand (most of the traffic back then was from Russia and I know no one there) to less than a hundred on most posts. Some posts are fewer than fifty. If you’re reading this, you’re in an exclusive rarified club.

 

 I noticed a curious pattern to the posts that get almost double the clicks. They either contain cat pictures (oh, my 💓) or a recipe. I rarely do the latter, so it’s time, don’t you think? Not that I am motivated by clicks, but I feel like letting the summer leave with a bang.

 

And so I will share my favorite comfort food, which is good warm, (in winter) fabulous cold, (on a day like today) and for the most part is pretty good for you. It requires only one ingredient you’ll have to go hunting for, and trust me—you’ll be happy to have it on hand going forward. The rest are likely already in your refrigerator & pantry.

 

ROSE WATER PUDDING

2 cups whole milk

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1/3 cup sugar

¼ cup Rose water (or Orange-blossom water) *

Chopped pistachio meat or Almonds for topping

 

*The Rose water is found in middle eastern food stores, and if you must, Amazon also sells it. It’s wonderful in fruit salad and in rice pudding, and for the cocktail crowd there’s no end to where it adds wistful cheer.

 

On low heat, bring the milk with cornstarch and sugar whisked in to a soft simmer, using a whisk the whole time. The moment it begins to boil, it will also thicken. Take it off the stove and whisk in the rosewater. Fantastic for cold evenings right away. It’s very nice chilled in small bowls and eaten with a spoon, nut meats sprinkled on top.

 

Can’t be simpler, can’t be better. You’re welcome.