Tonight was the first reading of the New Orleans essay book, and now, several hours later and wide freaking awake at 4:30 a.m., I thought I'd record a few of the things I learned on the off chance they may be of help to someone.
1) It might help if you actually told people your name. Including last name. You may have to practice it a bit on the way to the read if you're a tiny bit nervous, but it's a really bad idea to have someone ask you your name and you stare at them with a blank expression as if this is some sort of pop question no one prepared you for and you're being graded by the most evil teacher in the world. Not that I did anything remotely like this. The first ten or so times I was asked. So, full name.
2) Remember how to spell your name when really warm and gracious people come up to you after your read and ask you to sign their book. It is probably a bad thing to look down at what you've written and realize you have completely wandered off track in the middle of your own maiden name and spelled it with some new foreign spelling which is guaranteed to have your dead ancestors knocking at your door in the middle of the night, promising to haunt your ass for being an idiot. So, spelling... kinda important.
3) Remember to say, "Thank you." It is never a good thing when people come up to you and say, "Wow, I really loved your essay," for you to be standing there, frozen in shock, thinking, "OHMYGOD, THEY LIKED IT! THEY LIKED IT!" while staring at them with a blank expression as if they haven't said a word. As loud as it is in your head, they can't hear you. Do something, anything. Grunt. Nod. Aim for a reply in English, but try not to just stand there like a mime.
4) Contrary to what you feel at the time, you will not actually spontaneously combust right there on the spot when you have to get up in front of people and read. There are no records of any writer ever spontaneously combusting. No, really. Never.
5) If you feel like a big idiot (for the inability to speak your name, the blank stares, the nerves), just remember: statistically, no matter how big this reading is, it's still a small number of people (unless you're Stephen King). No one is going to follow you home and put a big "Stupid lives here" banner across the front of your house for the world to see. I think. Let me check in the morning and get back to you on this one.
The publisher, Chin Music Press, was wonderfully represented by Bruce and David Rutledge and gifted designer Craig Mod. I did remember to tell Craig how beautiful I thought the book was; it's truly unique and I am very proud of the aesthetic. I remembered to thank Bruce -- who was just an amazing host -- but my brain completely failed me when I forgot not only to thank David, but I neglected to tell him how very powerful and well-written I thought his essay was. So David, please forgive an idiot too nervous to remember her own name: you totally rocked.*
I also thoroughly enjoyed meeting and hearing the other writers, and seeing the diversity that is so uniquely New Orleans. There is something about a read in a bar where it's almost standing room only, where food is a big part of the party (and many delicious dishes were scarfed up by an appreciative crowd), where there is laughter and drinking and story-telling and all ages gathered around a smoky room, dark paneling, old paintings fililng the walls, with photographs of many a group who've frequented the bar pinned around all of the doorways and archways... it's New Orleans. There just isn't any other place like it.
Ironically, I am not a shy person. At all. I have no problems talking (hush, Corey), and meeting new people and mingling and handling crowds. I'm actually very good at this! So it really surprised me how very tense I felt prior to the read. It all went really well (I am told -- I have almost no memory except for being sort of frozen, though my husband assures me I did okay). We guestimated that we ended up with a hundred or so people attending this tiny location in a ravaged part of New Orleans, so I was very pleased with the turnout. The proceeds from the donations made at the bar as well as $10 per book sold went to the charity "Rebuild Together" which is helping elderly and disabled people without means to be able to get back into their homes. This is so wonderful, I'm thrilled to have been a part of the event. I got to hear the fabulous Ray read his terrific and funny essay. He did such a fine job reading, too, totally cracked up the crowd several times. And he was much better with the whole "introducing yourself, say your name" thing. I need to take lessons. Finally, you just can't beat a night with lots of friendly faces, laughter and mingling.**
*(David not only introduced my read with really gracious words, but he made me feel a lot less nervous through the night and told me a couple of times afterward that he saw people tearing up during the read. I remember hearing it, but it honestly didn't register on my brain until I was on the way home that I don't think I responded much, if at all. Can I plead brain freeze? In addition to being an idiot?)
**(I'm told. I'm not entirely sure. I have this vague memory of a bar, lots of people, and standing on a staircase trying to read in a light so dim, braille would have been easier. I am just insanely proud that I didn't fall down the stairs. You have no idea how proud.)
I received my copy of the collection of essays, titled Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans? I love this book; it's got such a wonderful blend of voices in it, of flavors, it has the feel of New Orleans, and it doesn't pull punches about all the things New Orleans was and is, good and bad.
And that link above? References a small quote by the Times Picayune who called it "an inspired riff on the Armstrong song." Very very cool.
Right now, there are readingd already being set up. We're going to be reading at the Saturn bar near the French Quarter on Feb. 16th. There's another read on March 16 in New Orleans, but I'm not sure if I can make that one. Then there's a panel at the Tennessee Williams Festival on April 1st at one o'clock, and I'm thrilled to be on that panel. The very next day, the Barnes & Noble here in Baton Rouge is hosting a big reading event for us at two o'clock. If you're in the area for any of these, I would dearly love it if you'd stop by and say hello!
And look!
It says you have to preorder, but the books are printed and on their way. So this should be corrected soon.
If you've been querying or sending your work out and you're getting positive responses but you're not quite crossing that elusive sale line, it can be incredibly frustrating and debilitating. Sometimes, it's an issue of luck or timing, and there really isn't a helluvalot you can do about that. On the flip side, there are times as writers that we'll get encouragement and nice comments without really knowing what is making them say "no, not for me." In the course of a discussion on Backspace, someone asked, "How do you know what to fix when they don't tell you?" I had gone through a self-evaluation process before thIe book which just sold. It's not a "fix-all" sort of thing. Instead, it's just a way of looking at your own work and stepping outside what you've been seeing up to that point to analyze it. On the off-chance that it might be of help, I'm re-posting my answer here:
A much larger part [of the analysis process] was sitting down and disecting my own way of telling stories, pros and cons. Instead of listening to what readers were saying, I started to look at what they were not saying. The gist of what I was hearing was that they always loved my characters, loved the humor, loved the setting, but something about the way I told the stories wasn't working since they weren't selling, and no one could tell me why.
Believe me, I asked. Especially of those producers with whom I had a personal relationship.
Instead of assuming that it was all just subjective or luck, and in order to figure it out, I started giving my writing to people and asked them to list the positive feedback they'd give me, and then I'd look at those things and say, "What's missing? What am I not seeing on this list?" This is an odd sort of way of going about this, I know, but the critiques I was getting weren't pointing out the "gestalt" -- the overall problem.
(I started doing this sort of analysis with my screenwriting, and when it worked, I transferred what I'd learned to my fiction. The relative shortness of a script as compared to a manuscript may have given me an advantage because it was easier to see it as a "whole" when trying to break it down. )
With that in mind...
So... what was not being said?
The one thing that popped in my head that I noticed wasn't said (or if it was, it was only occasional), was,
Now here's the kicker -- people would say how much they loved the read, how immersed they were in the characters, so you'd think these were the same things, but they're not. And it took me a little while to realize that.
Second thing that happened is pretty notorious in the screenwriting world-- you get killed by encouragement. But when you try to get to the heart of why they're not buying, they'll use vague terms. They're not doing this to be mean, but because they aren't writers and they have no clue how to explain to you that there's something not working. So they've come up with a sort of shorthand which sounds like they're telling you something, when in fact, they're basically saying, "I don't know jack, I just know I can't buy it and I can't put my finger on why.
So one of the things I had heard was that they loved the scripts (the romantic comedies), but they were "soft." What the hell is soft? It's a romantic comedy. If it was 'hard,' it would be porn. How is 'soft' a definition for writing?
I'd ask my then-screenwriting-agent, who would be just as confused. We would try to get more specifics out of them but the execs didn't think "soft" was a bad thing per se...and since they were in the middle of telling me all of the good stuff, it was easy to set that aside as a vague excuse.
Until one day, I finally realized what they weren't saying.
They weren't saying "I couldn't put it down."
I'd get stuff like, "I love reading your scripts, I will always give your agent a read overnight for your stuff," and "Your characters and your worlds are so original, and I laughed all through it, so it's funny!" Which is great! But no one was saying, "Ohmygod, I had to pee and I refused to get up to go to the bathroom because I had to see what happened next and now I have to buy a new leather chair, damn you."
That is critical. You have to write in such a way as to get to feel a freakishly urgent sense of needing to finish the read, which is what translates into them being compelled to convince their bosses to spend the money.
A lot of other writers and people in the business were trying to guess what "soft" meant at the time (since this was a fairly common excuse floating around), and one fairly common opinion was that it was the opposite of edgy. Well, not everything can be edgy, so that wasn't really working as a definition. Then one day I put the two things together and I realized what 'soft' meant: it meant that there wasn't enough forward motion in the story to actively compel the reader to keep reading, regardless of all else.
'Soft' is the opposite of 'crisp' and 'urgent.'
How did that apply to me?
This is where it got tricky. I went through my stories and on the surface, it seemed like I was already doing what needed to be done.
interesting characters...........check
clear goals............................ check
obstacles.............................. check
So, hmmm. That looks like everything I need. What the hell is up with that? Then I looked more closely at story structure, which is when I realized: a lot of what is motivating the characters isn't revealed until sometime later in the story. And some of these were pretty important reasons for being motivated, but they were buried deeper.
The problem with writing so "indirectly" is that for the first part of the story, the reader has to take it on faith that you're going to eventually supply them with the motivation and what's at stake for the main character. I managed to dance fast enough to keep them interested, but I am certain that when they put my stuff down and had to go explain to their boss, they weren't able to sum up the character very easily, or what the character wanted / needed or why. I definitely had reasons all along the story trajectory as to why the character was doing what they were doing, and the reader could deduce some of the motivations, but at the same time, I blocked the reader from getting too much information because I wanted to reveal more about them later. My assumption had been that this sort of structure made the story deeper, more thought provoking, creating a greater impact. That delay can work, but it also renders a lot of your story as appearing to be re-active instead of active: it doesn't look so much like the character is forging forward as they are simply reacting to what's happening, and that can make the story feel passive and less immediate.
Complex characters can make for excellent writing, but you have to do one very simple thing to pull them off: give the reader at least a surface motivation as to why they're doing what they're doing. Why they must have whatever it is they're going after in the story. Even if you want to deepen that later or turn it in on itself and twist it to surprise your reader by making the character more complex, you still need to keep the reader invested in the story, and they have a hard time staying invested if they don't know what's at stake or why it's critical to the character.
So the new list:
interesting characters.......check
clear goals........................ check
motivation..........................check
obstacles.......................... check
Then I looked at the "obstacles" and analyzed my writing, and I realized that not only did I have to make those obstacles incrementally tougher, they had to matter so much and the character had to keep failing.
Terry Rossio, over on his Wordplayer (highly, highly recommended reading) used Indiana Jones as an example...
Indy is this great archeologist / hero, able to go into difficult areas and retrieve these priceless artifacts, and when he's going after the ARK, he keeps failing. When it looks like he's about to succeed, there's another twist and he's not only failed, he's in a bit of a worse situation than he was when he started. And now he's got to brainstorm his way out of that.
Someone once said to me: character is shown by the choices we make when things aren't going well.
A person may talk the talk of a pacifist, for example, but when confronted with a situation, realize that they would resort to violence to save someone they loved... so their character is not a pacifist after all (something they may have difficulty dealing with in the story.)
When you make sure that your stakes are escalating and that your character has to keep dealing with these problems, and the problems are getting worse, then you've got the chance to show what this person is really like -- good and bad -- which, along with the stakes, renders the story a 'page turner.'
So I looked at my scripts and realized I wasn't applying that sort of tension. (This can, honestly, apply to literary fiction as well. The stakes are more intimate, more personal, but they have to keep increasing and keep mattering to the character.)
Once I realized these things, I looked around for the kind of story that resonated with me, the kind of character I just could not put down. I looked for a way to tell this story without sacrificing voice or style, a way to immerse the reader immediately and have them hanging on, turning the page to see what happens next. When I started getting that "I couldn't put it down" reaction consistently, I knew I had stepped onto a higher level playing field. (There are always higher levels, no matter where we are, where we've started.)
These things which applied to me may not apply to you. You have to really look at what is being said, make a list of the positives and the negatives, and then start looking at what's missing. Most people are not Simon Cowell (American Idol) and aren't going to tell you the brutal truth, even if they're thinking it. They're going to sugarcoat. But I think by looking at what is consistently not said, you may be able to dig up some useful truth.
If you're getting the "I couldn't put it down" sort of responses from just about everyone reading but it hasn't crossed that elusive "sold" line, remember that a big part of what we do is sales, and not every buyer is looking for exactly what we have. That's the frustrating part about the business, but it doesn't mean you're not on track with your writing (if you're getting the great responses)... it's just a matter of right person and right time.
Most writers know this, but it doesn't hurt to say it again: try thinking about it like you would your own personal shopping preferences. You're shopping for that perfect little black dress to go to a party and I hand you some fabulous jeans. You may love the jeans, but your budget is such that you can only buy one thing, so you're going to pass up those jeans and keep looking for that little black dress. Now, you'll be looking in the dress section, and you may see a blue one that works or a red one that surprises you how much it works, but it's still not the jeans. Editors, I feel, are in the same boat. They know what they are looking for in a general sort of way. The trick, then, is to either luck up and find one "jean" shopping at the right moment or make the jeans so absolutely stunning that they toss the idea of a little black dress and decide to buck the system and go with the jeans they fell in love with.
But, if you, yourself, are shopping, and you absolutely must have that dress... you're going to keep going from store to store to store until you find the right one in the right size. Well, the editors can't come to you, so you have to keep sending your stuff in until you find the right person at the right time. If you're getting the "I couldn't put it down" response from your own personal set of readers or critique partners, then it is more a matter of timing and luck in finding the right person. Luck won't do you any good, though, if the writing isn't ready.
Persistence is everything.
PJ Parish has a terrific blog entry about how characters can waltz into a scene unannounced and unexpected and end up being pivotal to the story. It's a little freaky when that happens, though, because it feels very much like they simply showed up, except that you are aware, as an author, that you created them on some level. Only you weren't aware you were doing so, really. They stand there in their frumpy blue dress and pill box hat and white gloves which are so out of step with the times, and you wonder where on earth they came from and why are they showing up in the middle of this action scene, and why is it that you care that it's a 70 year-old woman buying a semi-automatic Glock? Nothing good can come from her actions, and you know it, and you know your main character knows it, and somehow, somewhere, Maimee Parsons (for that is her name, she introduced herself, thank you very much)... yes, Maimee Parsons is going to affect the story in a way that isn't terribly clear right now. She's talking, though, and making demands, and she's a minor character (though she doesn't know that, she thinks this is her story), and you sort of nod benevolently and agree to write about the times she shows up in your main character's story, but you know she thinks that's fine for now, but she'll wrangle more attention from you later once she has you hooked. It's all very very weird, and it happens in my head (I think)(right? it's not real, right?), and you try to explain this process to non-writing friends or family and they look at you just a tad more worried than they normally do, like they may spend the afternoon hiding sharp objects.
(Did you ever maybe wonder if all of those psychotics hearing voices in their heads are really just frustrated writers?)
I'm not sure what damage Maimee is up to, but it'll be fun to find out.