Being Busy, the art of Tinkering, and Screaming

I came across this post from 2012 and repeat it here now almost word for word as I wrote it then. This year is different. I am writing. Have been doing lots of editing and I’ve more of both ahead of me. I’ve not done anywhere near enough promotion and those ‘life’ annoyances are different, but still very prevalent, maybe more so. Part of me wants to sum up the entire post into a single sentence: I’m a writer and I’m forever busy:

A friend sent me a text last night: “I hope the writing is going well.” I had to reply that I’m not writing. I haven’t been for… well, I’m not sure. Several days, maybe three or four weeks, and it’s annoying me. I’ve found a moment here and there to ‘tinker’ but not to write, although that’s not entirely true either.

I’ve ‘tinkered’ with a bit of story, but not had time to sit down and truly write, so I’ve hardly written a word. On the other hand, I’ve written plenty. Had edits. I’ve written long-overdue emails. I’ve three works out in December so have written blurbs and promo, and typed my book details everywhere I can think of, and written blog posts for places I’m hoping to show up at pontificating about my books or the writing process that created them for anyone who has asked me, or cares to read them. And sometimes just to say hi — to connect with other writers and readers and thank them for their support, understanding, and lovely words and messages.

This is another side of ‘writing’ and I’ve had lots of that to be going on with, but I’ve also spent some time out to attend to daily ‘life’. Much as I’d like to claim otherwise, we all have them, these daily lives, and maybe that’s a good thing to keep a person grounded. I’ve a relative in the hospital, the extension roof sprung a leak, and I’ve done some shopping, some of which I can’t avoid as we head towards Christmas. There’s the Christmas run of presents to attend to, and I have parcels to pack up, post off, or deliver. I have cards to write, and a yearly letter to put together for those I have and haven’t neglected equally — either way, it will be a chance for them to catch up on what is happening at ‘our house’.

I’m — deep breath — busy, but in that, I can’t say this time is all that different from any other time. I’m always busy, because when I’ve ticked off all the things on my current to-do list, there will be another one to attend to, and another one, and another after that. It doesn’t stop. It’s part of writing, living this double life, and sure, sometimes it’s part of any normal life, too, but having all this going on occasionally means I procrastinate and tinker a bit with something trivial because it stops me from screaming aloud, which will only earn me strange looks and speculative whispers. And if there ever should be a time when I’m not busy — as if that’s going to happen — I’ll still be occupied because what writers do when they’re not busy is get busy writing. See how that works?

Still, I’m getting antsy and I’m longing for the moment — and it will arrive this week — when I sit down and begin work on something. It may be something that needs editing — it may be old or new, may require a complete re-write, or may be ticking over quietly in a dormant brain cell for now, but I’ve reached a point where if I don’t write ‘story’ it’s quite possible you’ll hear me screaming.

Plot vs Pants

First, an explanation.

A writer who is a ‘plotter’ plans out the course of the story, thinks about the plot, theme, subtext, characterisation, and many other elements ‘before writing’.

A ‘pantser’ sits down at the keyboard with an idea or a model (these are two different things I won’t explain here except to say one is more fully fledged than the other) and writes. ‘Pantsing’ is to ‘fly by the seat of’ (one’s pants), though I prefer to call it organic writing.

I’m (mostly) a pantser, which I realise doesn’t mean I don’t plot but having read a reference to Stephen King recently, a proverbial lightbulb went off in my head illuminating the fact that, like King, I’m an intuitive plotter. I am NOT for the record stating at this point in time I do it as well as he does, but here’s hoping one day, preferably soon. Really, that’s the definition of (successful) pantsers — they are intuitive plotters.

Yes, I can face the blank page and craft a story with nothing more than a vague idea in mind. I often write from beginning to end. I seldom jump around. The story comes to me as if I am reading, and in that respect, it appears I’m lucky the way King is fortuitous. We can ‘pants’ it. The same cannot be said of every writer, though it doesn’t diminish the effort required, and a simple but painful truth remains: sometimes planning isn’t a bad idea even for pantsers. A story may not work for many reasons. Vital elements may be missing. Or be in the wrong order. Even a good book may benefit from being looked over to check all the important formations of story-telling are present and/or in the right place.

I imagine most writers start out as pantsers, unless they have a professional writing background. Most writers are readers who range from someone ‘wanting to have a go’ to those who have always dreamed of it being a vocation. Some (the lucky few) will discover they are intuitive, their writing tends to be organic, and they write something good enough to capture a publisher’s interest. Those who aren’t intuitive writers who don’t put in more work likely publish nothing, or nothing well-received.

Stories have patterns. Don’t worry if you didn’t realise this. If you’re a reader, you shouldn’t. I was ‘only’ a reader once, though there’s no such thing as ‘only a reader’ to those who love books, who buy them or produce them. A reader should enjoy a book without seeing its framework. The reader isn’t supposed to know the design is there.

Pantsers write and either give up or get nowhere (I throw my hands up and confess there are always the often-dreaded exceptions) because they don’t realise this, or they are intuitive and form the shape without realising. Once pantsers become published authors, they may or may not perceive the hidden construction of stories. Some will continue to be intuitive without thinking about it, while some (of which I am one) will spot these layouts.

A note of warning: IMHO recognition of these designs ‘may’ spoil the simple enjoyment of reading somewhat (at least for me). As an author, I now read a book more aware of the narrative. I’m able to spot the ‘inciting incident’ (for example). Don’t worry if as a reader you don’t know what that is, but writers should understand. For me, books were more enjoyable when these plot points were ‘invisible’ because as a reader I did not tune my mind in to spot them.

Plotters know stories require an arrangement and they set out to make the task easier for themselves by laying the groundwork beforehand.

To a pantser, plotting feels like studying for an exam. A plotter to a pantser can seem like one of those irritating kids in school who enjoyed the study process. Ironically, I was one of those who didn’t overly mind studying — good thing because as a writer sometimes I need to do research.

The trouble is, depending on what level of intuitive grasp the writer has of the subject, the pantser can be the one looking wistfully back, wishing they had spent the hours pouring over the textbooks in order to get a better result, but I’m not advocating either option.

Which is better? This is a simple question with a simple answer: use the one that works for you. Some writers plot, some pants, and some do a mixture of the two, and what’s required can differ from work to work, genre to genre, project to project. The choice often comes down to which the writer finds easier, more natural, or even which he or she can withstand. For some pantsers, plotting can seem torturous. For some plotters, pantsing must seem bewildering and disastrous.

A Writing Process Blog Tour

Around this time two years ago, I was nominated for a blog tour without my knowing. I can trust my co-writer and editor, Andy Frankham Allen, to not tell me. I guess he counted on me reading his blog… and it appears he was right. This was my entry, which I reproduce here with updated footnotes. Two years. This was TWO YEARS ago. How the time has flown.

Q1 What are you currently working on?

Not as easy to answer as it should be. I’ve recently finished one lot of edits for a steampunk work and had decided to write a third in a published series of romance titles only to realise a need to edit books one and two as I reread them. That turned into a total exercise of shock mixed with the delight of seeing how well I’ve improved in five or six short years. And while I did that, edits for another book arrived. I’ve just returned the first round but don’t expect it will be long before the second arrives (there’s usually two before line edits etc), so I’m sort of jumping about at present. Interruptions and having to hop between works is one thing I never accounted for.

UPDATE: The romances I mention I’m only now finishing up. Personal problems and a necessary move cause a good deal of interruption. Book one has this week been contracted and the trilogy will be on the way.

Q2 How does my work differ from others in my genre?

A genre is a bit of a painful topic for me. I’ve been calling myself a multi-genre writer, but I realise that’s not an easy achievement. Readers will seldom follow a writer through multiple genres — a fact that had never occurred to me. Yes, I know, naïve, but then I’m a reader who will stick with writers I love no matter what they do. I’ll at least give all their works a try, and I read so widely it seems strange to think there are people who read a single genre. I cannot imagine life without reading at least two or three different stories. I always say I write as I read, meaning anything and everything. While this is true, branding is everything these days, so lately I’ve been giving serious consideration to what I do.

I hit on the romance/erotic romance market mostly by accident rather than intent and I tend to call this side of my writing ‘non-traditional’ romance in that I’ve written a large portion of gay or ‘m/m’ titles, also menage, and those in themselves have ranged from contemporary, comedy, horror, science fiction, and fantasy. I want to have a serious try at writing a hetero romance, but I’m sure it will have a paranormal setting, so I say ‘non-traditional’ to explain that I write a range of pairings and sub-genres.

Of my non-romance work… again, it varies, but I realise that many of my stories seem to contain a dark thread. I’ve a short story Bitter and Intoxicating in the anthology Red Velvet and Absinthe (edited by Mitzi Szereto, foreword by Kelley Armstrong) which is a perfect example of this. It’s erotic gothic romance with more than a touch of horror. My one and only short story available at Untreed Reads called The Texture of Winter is impossible to describe. It’s about loss and pain and the end of life, and yet I feel the tale has a bittersweet quality. Both stories are unusual and yet both contain a dark thread. I kind of pride myself in being able to write almost any genre, but I’m currently trying to pin down what I most want to focus on, so I recently re-branded my site and myself as a ‘writer of dark and light fiction’, which at least seems to cover all possibilities. When I get a little ‘breathing space’ I plan to write a novel with that dark side in mind, think ‘outside the box’ to see where it leads me.

UPDATE: I subsequently divided my romance and darker work and have a pen-name for what I now call Dark Fiction.

Q3 Why do I write what I do?

An innate love of books, of stories, of story-telling. Books have been companions throughout my life. They seldom let me down. They’re a way to explore life. To live and experience other lives, to be someone you are not. They’re time machines, both into the past and the future. Stories are for enjoyment and exploration. They can teach or simply hold the reader’s hand through good and bad times. I’d love to make a living at writing, but realistically so few writers do. Many writers write because they simply don’t know how not to. It’s a driving force. I’ve referred to it as akin to breathing.

Q4 How does my writing process work?

I’m not sure. Every project feels different, and the process isn’t always the same. I call myself a pantser — a term in writing circles to mean fly by the seat of. Andy is mostly a plotter. When we co-authored a book together, I found it a little exhausting, and it wasn’t just because we were stepping in at short notice and had limited time. Andy is fast, and he tends to know exactly where he wants to go. I can be fast, but not always, and not when plotting. Writing with someone else requires a certain amount of plotting to be inevitable, but I seldom know where I’m going, so following any kind of pattern felt alien to me. I may start a work based on an opening scene that’s come to me. I may have an idea where I want my characters to end up, but not have a clue how they’re going to get there. On rare occasions I’ll know the end, but nothing or not much leading up to it. I have written things based on nothing more than a title or a handful of words given to me. Characters may come to me without a story, or I’ll connect two random events and realise there’s a plot hiding there. I really cannot explain how my ideas form because it can happen in many ways.

The writing process itself can also differ. I usually write from beginning to end, as if I were reading a story. Occasionally I’ll write random scenes or jump a few scenes ahead and then connect them, sort of in the way they produce a film. The writing can come easily or take forever. It’s a wonderful feeling when it’s flowing; other times… I can only say there’s a good reason writers refer to it as proverbially pulling teeth. When the writing drags, it drags big time, yet I can’t base how good the writing is on how easily the work flows. Sometimes it feels as if a story wrote itself and poured out of me; other times I’ve had to wrench out every word, but in neither case does that tell me a thing about the quality of what I’ve produced until I shelve it for a while and come to the edit. That’s the one thing about my process — I like to shelve work before I do an edit. I may edit a little as I go, I may read over the previous day’s work to get me back into the story and tweak it, but before I do a first major edit, I prefer to let work sit a minimum of two weeks, preferably two to three months or even longer.

Q5 What’s new from you?

I’ve a short story called The Night Train in a magazine, Night to Dawn, and I’ve recently finished The Draco Eye a steampunk work for Space 1889, so that’s likely to be the next available longer work from me. The intrepid crew of Sovereign are heading for Jupiter and find the most fantastical creature yet… which the amazing cover reveals.

Coming next… current edits are on a book tentatively entitled Going Nowhere — a title that will probably end up changed owing to the publisher’s list of titles already in use. This is a gay erotic romance paranormal detective type thing that will be available from Loose id though I don’t have a release date yet. Who said a writer can’t mix things up?

UPDATE: Going Nowhere ended up releasing as Wildest Dreams.

Love of the Written Word

I’m here to discuss a friend’s point of view — one that hadn’t occurred to me. I’m going to wander a bit because I’m also talking books, but it all translates to love for the written word.

Some people appreciate e-books, some don’t. Some hate the term ‘e-book’ and I take the argument on board. A ‘book’ is a bound set of pages. We might more accurately call the electronic file of a book an e-novel or e-story because I don’t believe the presentation affects the content.

The narrative ‘exists’ the moment the author penned, typed, or dictated the words. When one used typewriters or even quills and ink, the method didn’t make the yarn exist any less. Although by no definition could hand written or typed pages be called ‘books’, I would take them over the existence of nothing. A story exists regardless of presentation.

I’m not against electronic files, but I still love paper; always will. I admit there’s nothing like a physical book one can hold. It’s nostalgic. If a gift, we may recollect when we opened a brightly wrapped package, the second we first saw what was inside, felt a fission of pleasure, and spare a moment’s thought for the person who gifted it.

An electronic file, mostly, lacks the personal touch. An old book even deteriorated… Well, those creases in the spine and cover could have developed over many years of handling and love. I don’t see a scruffy volume as one discarded or ill-used.

Also, for someone like me who spends a great deal of time in front of computer screens, then the printed page is a departure from our world that thrives so heavily on electronics. I find room for both formats simply owing to practicality. I write e-books and would be a total hypocrite to say I loathe them. Far from it. Sure, I would adore the library the Beast gave to Beauty in the Disney film. Push my bed and a chair and desk into the middle. I’ll be fine — but I’ve yet to stumble across any enchanted castles even if I’ve found my Prince Charming.

I love many types of books, from the classics to children’s stories, fantasy and horror, some romances. I can be fussy about my romantic tales more than any genre, but they stand alongside all the other genres I cherish. To call my collection eclectic is an understatement. Unfortunately, I simply don’t have room for all the books I want to own — I will never live long enough to read them all even if I had said library.

My key problem is I’m one of those readers who struggles to part with titles, especially if I enjoyed them. I’ve relatives and friends who don’t understand this. They feel a book read, or a film seen, they’ve finished with. The story told, the reader/viewer knows what will happen, so why read/watch repeatedly?

I comprehend the point but disagree. A much-loved experience can be enjoyed more than once and often one can miss things on a first pass the same way an author can during the creation process. Among my many ‘wants’ is a desire to own an entire library of classics. I’ve an abiding affection for them. I’m amazed when I hear someone say they’ve read none of the literary greats. Black Beauty, Heidi, Pride and Prejudice, Gulliver’s Travels, Oliver Twist… all these and more were my childhood reads. I cannot even remember when they first earned the term ‘classics’ — they were simply books, and they were my first adventures. They took me to different worlds and gave me experiences I would never have had otherwise. I experienced these alongside stories like The Water Babies, What Katy Did, Ballet Shoes, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and never differentiated.

Now they are looked upon as stuffy and dry, the language outdated. I cannot help feeling that people were better educated, more eloquent and literate when such volumes were picked up at a younger age. I was born when almost all parents read to their kids, where they gave me titles intended for older children; if unable to enjoy them right away, I wanted to. That longing made me strive to learn. If I didn’t know a word, my parent handed me a dictionary and told me to look it up, and yes, I took the time to do so.

So these stories remained with me, ingrained, and the electronic format allowed me to revisit some of these classics lost through moves, through lack of space. They are adventures and memories revisited, and I can keep them in virtual reality. Although I still often buy my favourite authors in print, I branched out and discovered others owing to electronic formats. I am grateful, and I would prefer the world where there wasn’t an argument for or against, but where all can live side by side. In an advanced society, life is about individual choice.

I personified my thinking when speaking with a friend. This person is in his seventies and he recently bought an e-reader… and adores it. His reason is simple — he has struggled to read a book for some time. His eyes aren’t quite as they used to be and there may be other factors in his health, but whatever the cause, he can ‘see’ the words better on his reader as opposed to looking at a printed page. He can also increase the font size if need be, or zoom in. This small device made his whole experience come alive again, and where he had as good as given up on books, or took a long time to struggle through a single novel, he’s reading again… devouring titles, and what I saw in his eyes as he told me all this was joy.

So I’m putting this thought out there for those much against. Maybe e-books and e-readers aren’t for everyone, and for some, they never will be, but I think this proves that it’s pointless to criticise the needs of another person and that none of us can know what we may one day need ourselves. Should there be anyone saying they’d rather give up than commit sacrilege and read electronic books, then I can only think ‘nose, spite, and face’. I could never cease reading.

Strangely, I’ve never heard such venomous disagreements over audio titles, which many people enjoy who aren’t blind and don’t have seeing difficulties. The arguments come from fear — a dread that the production of printed books will one day die out altogether. I understand that emotion well. Without print, this would be a poorer world, but one cannot ignore the increase of electronic formats (although sales have dropped back they’re holding their own) — something I knew would take off long before the first e-reader was even conceived. I foresaw a time before such devices existed, where e-readers and titles intended for them sold alongside things like audio were considered as commonplace, and where — for some — they’re a lifeline. Just as someone brought books into my life to enrich it — in my ‘book’ that makes their existence tolerable and even worthwhile.

An Absolute Pleasure

This is going to be my last blog for a couple of weeks because I’m taking a break. I hope to get a work I’ve been editing through its first re-editing phase before the end of the week, and for those who follow my romance titles, I have a new due at the beginning of July. This is more a ‘bye for now’ than an actual blog, but I have an important date to celebrate that will be an ‘absolute pleasure’ for me. We all face milestones in our lives and I have one on the way that’s an achievement.

On that note (forgive the dubious segue), I’m taking a moment to reflect on something else that put a smile on my face in January 2013 (where has the time gone), when my Steampunk adventure — co-authored with Andy Frankham-Allen — Mundus Cerialis: Space 1889 & Beyond was called ‘an absolute pleasure to read’.

You can read the full review by going to The Traveler’s Steampunk Blog.

Stay well, stay happy, and Happy Reading!

Real Publishing, Real Books

An ebook is a book in what may be, for some, an unfamiliar format. This causes the reader to get used to different methods of reading and storing books, but the end product is still that of a story. The writer has other differences to consider between electronic and print markets.

First, there are seldom advances. Some publishers have introduced a small advance but, generally, this is not the case and don’t expect the type of up-front payment as the ‘big six’ might offer if they feel a book has the potential to be a bestseller. To be fair, many mid-stream print publishers aren’t so free with initial payouts. When offered, these prepayments aren’t always as large as they once were and based on several books a publisher ‘expects’ to sell. I’ve heard of enormous advances withdrawn if an acceptable manuscript isn’t delivered and, sometimes, if books simply don’t retail well and meet expectation. Advice is, don’t spend an advance — bank it for a good while.

Print books are often also released electronically now whereas predominately electronic books will not make the shelf in a local bookstore, not unless they eventually go to print, or the shop has the facilities to offer electronic books as part of its ‘stock’. Maybe not even then. Many printed books never make it to local shops, either, and require ordering, but let’s not forget technology is advancing. Predictions are one day a book ‘shop’ may comprise a catalogue and a screen from which to order, the books appearing ‘magically’ as some sort of electronic download or almost instant POD (Print on Demand). While this sounds like science-fiction such scientific applications are being considered and are in development.

The good news for the writer is royalties on ebooks are higher and here’s where the ebook author has a tough choice. Print books are wonderful and many writers will say they long for their titles to be in print. They may read ebooks themselves and love them, but the writer wants to hold their work as something ‘solid’. Touch makes something feel more actual. It may be why many mistakenly conclude the electronic markets aren’t real publishing, while others love being able to cart a library around on a small device that fits into a pocket. In context, there are those who say emails aren’t real letters, but the technology still transfers information effectively.

However, the writer also needs to consider he or she can earn approximately 25, 35 or 50% in royalties from an ebook. From a print book, royalty payments can be as low as 7%. Let that sink in for a minute before I add a writer can earn more in royalties from an ebook, but these titles may not have such a wide distribution, so the potential to sell fewer copies, though this has improved through distributor networks more recently. As more mainstream titles appeared in electronic formats so more companies became distributors same as they would with print, and even printed works can have the problem with limited markets and outlets.

Now we move to why ebooks cost so much. After all, they skip the printing stage. Yes, they do, but this is another matter for those who scorn ebooks to consider. Printing is the ONLY element that the ebook skips. This is a rough guide only based on experience, but consider the levels a story goes through before release.

When submitted to a publisher, the submission goes to a reader. A reader may be an editor at the publishing house or a reader only, but either way, from a synopsis and the first three chapters, a reader will decide whether to ask for the entire manuscript. If the reader likes the draft, they’ll pass it on, discuss it with others in the publishing house, including management, and a team will decide whether to offer a contract. This is especially true if the writer is an unknown name to them. If accepted, they assign an editor, and the work goes through the editing process.

Some publishers allow a writer to work with a single editor for all the work submitted. Sometimes, publishers simply hand the next book scheduled for editing to an available editor. I much prefer building up a relationship with an editor to learn how we both work, and where we can trust each other. This can make for less friction and time wasted. Depending on how much attention the work needs, it may go through one, two, three, or more edit rounds before the line-editing department provides a fresh ‘set of eyes’ to look the story over. This time, they specifically check the book for punctuation errors, house-style etc., and even obvious story problems. When line editors are finished, they return the work to the main editor, who will look at the changes before sending them back to the writer. The writer and editor collaborate and, once happy, send the work to the proofing department. They make a last effort to spot any errors before the book gets formatted* and ready for release. The writer may or may not get to proof the final galley. (*They often leave some formatting to the author, but I’ll not go into that this time.)

While this sounds like a leisurely process, it isn’t. I’ve grown used to “Can we have this yesterday?” It’s often a fraught time. Think of all the effort that goes into this editing procedure. As much as I love my books when I’ve gone through all the revisions I do prior to submitting and all these edits, and considering that I try to re-read at every opportunity, by the time the book is published I’m feeling a little sick of it. Also, keep in mind most writers work part time if not full-time as well as write. Many editors do likewise. Sometimes, so do the publishers. Many companies, except for extremely large publishing houses, run as secondary businesses. Management, editors, line editors, proofers, and the authors all give of their so-called ‘spare’ time — a phrase that quickly becomes an in-house joke. When considering the number of work hours, it makes the financial rewards paltry.

There’s also the cost of cover art. Early on, the writer may be required to submit a cover art request to provide an idea of the book’s subject. Providing the artist with enough details takes considerably more thought than many expect. Some publishing houses ask the writer to ‘okay’ the cover, some don’t. I’ve heard of some authors being extremely upset by their book covers. I’m sure there are good and bad examples in all markets but, so far, most have taken my comments into consideration. Covers can range from quite cheap to expensive.

Wait. We’re not finished. Who writes the blurb? That’s the short teaser on the back cover of a printed book to get the reader interested in buying. Often, that’s the job of the author, too. A publisher may change the blurb completely or simply tweak it, but the author has to provide an original and full blurb. The writer also has to submit a new story with a synopsis and usually needs to maintain a website. The author needs to promote, though if with a decent publisher the company will do at least of a portion of promoting, too. Some now request an entire marketing strategy, along with a manuscript. I’d be wary if the publisher asks for this with no sign of what they will do in return, but it is a part of modern-day publishing. A writer’s best ability is to be accomplished in marketing. Promotion shouldn’t be left entirely to the author, but any ‘wannabe’ needs to know they are expected to play their part. For the writer who envisages the romantic image of sitting at a desk tapping happily away, one work after the other, nothing could be further from the truth.

This still looks as if I’ve not answered why ebooks can cost as much to produce as print. One reason is the difference in those royalties, but we’re not talking millions made by the writer or publisher. Not these days. What this means in terms of actual money, I’ll cover another time, but in brief, an ebook goes through the same or similar process as most printed books. Only the final stage — the format it’s produced in — differs, and this can take ‘more effort’ because there are many types of files available now. Glitches can happen. Returns for errors create more work and cost.

As for whether to read ebooks… as much as choosing what book to read is about choice, so should selecting the format in which one wishes to read be an act of free-will. I’d be devastated to see print books disappear, but I like to own a collection of both if for no other reason than much-needed space. Something else to consider is that I made my decision to write for an e-publisher based on what I could see happening to the book market. Although erotic publishers were at the forefront and the mainstay of the e-publishing market for a long time, books face strong competition. Many people struggle to find the time to read. The way they produce ALL books has changing, with even large mainstream publishers turning to POD technology and electronic formats. I own the works of Poe both in print and ebook. When considering publishing, I decided not to turn my back on what might happen to the future of books. I could see many who sneer being taken by surprise. The author who turns their back on the idea of change could risk being left behind, and may miss out on some wonderful opportunities.