Writerland » Editing

What is your writing process?

Meghan Ward — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 04:16:56 +0000

My last post got me thinking about different ways to begin a project. When I’m advising new writers on how to begin a memoir, I tell them to think of an event and just sit down and write it as a scene (or in essay form if they aren’t ready yet to write scenes). Then do another and another and soon you’ll have some material to work with BEFORE worrying about an outline. Now that I’ve completed one book, however, I plan to use a different process next time. I plan to really work out the plot and outline BEFORE I write any scenes. Because what happens when you write the scenes first is you fall in love with some of them and try to work the plot around those scenes in order to keep them rather than working the scenes around the outline of the story. Which makes for a crappy plot and a lot of heartbreak once you realize, after multiple revisions, that you need to scrap those scenes and start over.

What about you? What is your process for starting a new project? Where do you begin?

Are you a slow writer or a fast writer?

Meghan Ward — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 05:26:05 +0000

I’m continually amazed by stories like Tawna Fenske’s who “In the last eight years [has] written nine full manuscripts and six partials.” Whoa! In the last eight years I have written exactly ONE memoir and revised the hell out of it and still haven’t finished it. Sure, I earned an MFA, got married, and had two kids during that time, too, but I’m sure writing wasn’t the only thing Tawna was doing for the past decade either. Truth is, I am a SLOW writer. I’m capable of cranking out a couple of pages in one day if I know what it is I need to write, but I spend weeks, even months, thinking about what it is I need to write (the curse of the perfectionist?). Now, for example, I’m at a crossroads where it makes sense for me, while taking a little breaky break from my WIP, to start another manuscript. Perfect sense! I’ve given that advice myself to many people struggling to get a completed work published. “Don’t stop writing! Start another book! Maybe your second will be the one that gets published first!” But it’s easier said than done.

For myself, I have a very vague idea of what my next book will be. First I thought it was going to be nonfiction. Then I realized that I never read nonfiction and get really bored reading nonfiction and that all I really care to read are literary novels. So then it occurred to me that maybe I need to take my nonfiction research and turn it into a novel. I like that idea! But I am SO SO far from beginning a draft. I haven’t even begun to research it let alone come up with an outline or a plot. Oy. I get anxious just thinking about the process. And I envision myself (maybe this will be a self-fulfilling prophecy) taking years to really figure out a) What it is I want to say b) How I’m going to say it (plot), and c) What style I want to say it in. Maybe if it were my full-time job I could whip off a draft in a year, but with two kids, freelance editing, blogging, and finishing up what I hope will be the last revision of my memoir, I see it taking more like 5. And in five years, Tawna Fenske, and all fast writers like her, will have whipped off another six books, two or three of which will perhaps get published.

What about you? Are you a lightning speed writer like Tawna Fenske or a pokey poke writer like me? Do you wish you could write faster than you do, or are you happy with your pace?

Memoir Monday: Narrator, Character: The Two “Yous”

Meghan Ward — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 15:00:00 +0000

Today we have a guest post from Rachel Howard, author of the memoir The Lost Night: A Daughter’s Search for the Truth of Her Father’s Murder, described as “enthralling” by the New York Times. Her personal essays have appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle and O, the Oprah Magazine. Her advice is quoted extensively in The Autobiographer’s Handbook: The 826 National Guide to Writing Your Memoir. She received her MFA from Warren Wilson College, and now teaches memoir and creative nonfiction at the San Francisco Writers Grotto and Stanford Continuing Studies.

Narrator, Character: The Two “Yous”

When just beginning to write a memoir, it often helps to think about your narrator. Which is simply you, right? Well, yes and no.

It might seem like simply being yourself should be easy, and sometimes if you hit a groove this might be true. But most of the time, finding the “you” best suited to telling the story is hard work, which involves trying out different voices and seeing what clicks with your material. You wouldn’t speak to your boss the same way you would speak to your best friend from high school, and you wouldn’t speak to your best friend the same way you speak to your husband, even though all those ways of speaking may be equally you. You wouldn’t tell a story about hunting for a parking spot in the same way you’d tell the story of your beloved grandmother’s death. In memoir, too, you have to find the right version of yourself for the story you’re telling, and the audience you want to tell it to. As Sven Birkerts writes in The Art of Time in Memoir:

“If the memoir is to be something more than a thin reportorial digest of events, if it is to matter, then the writer must create her identity on the page, making it as persuasive and compelling as that of any realized fictional protagonist. In other words, the memoirist’s ‘I’ must be an inhabited character, a voice that takes possession of its account.”

But some writers are so naturally outgoing, charming, or intimate that speaking as a narrator is, for them, as easy as walking. For such writers, there’s often a flip-side challenge: presenting yourself as a character. Natural narrators often benefit from stepping back to remember who they were in the “then” they’re recounting, and to remember the reader doesn’t know all the things about your former self that you take for granted. You might also need to see things about yourself then that you hadn’t yet recognized—and make sure to depict them for the reader.

Getting the distinction between “you” as a narrator and “you” as a character in personal writing can allow you to play more with perspective and time. Especially in memoir, the “you” telling the story now sees from a vantage point that the “you” as a character in the story could not. The energy of your story sparks in the difference and dynamism between the two “yous.” When creative nonfiction writing starts flattening, this is often because the writer has not stepped back to make that separation between “you” in the story and “you” telling it. This applies whether you’re telling the story from the vantage point of a few years, a few months, or even just a few days.

Put in a less theoretical way, this is all to say that in creative nonfiction, “you” as a narrator must work towards tremendous powers of distance and perspective from the events you’re relating. You have to be—and one of the great rewards of writing is that on the page you get to be—superhuman. If you were whiny or bitter at that Thanksgiving dinner with your annoying mother-in-law three years ago, you see that about yourself now. Maybe you laugh at yourself about it. Your character in the scene can still be whiny or bitter, but your narrator knows it, acknowledges it, and is honest about it. Even if you didn’t see that you were being whiny and bitter until you wrote the scene and re-read it.

Creative nonfiction asks a lot of us writers in this way. It’s always tough to critique a memoir or personal essay and say, “the narrator seems to be a little bitter here,” or “the narrator still seems angry about this.” It’s tough because so often in life, we have every reason to be bitter or angry or resentful or naive—we’re human. But in creative nonfiction, your narrator must be superhuman. That’s the hard work and the payoff.

Equal Parts Criticism and Praise?

Meghan Ward — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 06:23:00 +0000

In the comments section of my post on How to Critique Other Writers’ Work, a debate ensues. When using the sandwich approach (two slices of positive feedback with a glob of criticism in the middle), do the positive and critical parts of your sandwich need to be equal? If a manuscript needs a lot of work, is it still important to give it as much praise as criticism? If a piece is ready to publish, should you still give it as much criticism as praise? If you answer “No,” please explain in comments. Thanks for participating!

How to Critique Other Writers’ Work

Meghan Ward — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 23:51:24 +0000

A post by my friend Sierra about her toxic critique group inspired me to remind people how to give critiques of other writers’ work in a writers’ group or workshop.

The sandwich method always works best: Start by saying something positive, followed by your constructive criticism, and then end with another positive comment. The reason for this? It’s important to give the writer something she can work with (”I found myself losing interest at the bottom of page 3″) without making her want to give up writing altogether (”YA fantasy novels don’t really interest me.”)

Writing groups and workshops take on different formats. Typically, a group of people (anywhere from 3 to 12) agrees to meet every week or two at which time they will critique a chosen number of works—usually two or three for a 2-3-hour meeting. The works are handed out a week beforehand (either in person or by e-mail), giving the readers a week to read (preferably twice, once straight through and once while marking up the ms) the works.

The night of the meeting, the format could go a couple of different ways.

In my former writers’ group, there were about six people, and we met every other week. We worked in a circle, taking turns giving our verbal critiques while all the other writers, including the writer being critiqued, remained silent. After everyone had spoken, the writer being critiqued could comment and/or ask questions. The reason for the writer being silent during the critique is that writers tend to get defensive about their work and want to explain why they did this or that. The point of a critique, however, is not for you to defend the choices you’ve made, it’s for you to hear the opinions of others and then decide whether or NOT to take their advice. The more experienced the writer, the better she is at distinguishing which advice to take and which not to take. A good rule is that if several people agree about something, you should probably take the advice seriously. That does NOT mean they are right (40,000 Frenchmen can’t be wrong, but five writers can be). At the end of the verbal critiques, we all handed over our written critiques, some a couple sentences written in chicken scratch and others a one- to two-page typed analysis of the plot and characters. That was left to personal choice.

In my MFA program, we had twelve people in a workshop and we met every week. Rather than work in a circle, however, everyone just jumped in when she had something to say, everyone but the writer being critiqued, who remained silent. This format allowed for back and forth discussion: “I loved the scene in chapter one when the protagonist knifed her boyfriend in the neck,” “I totally disagree, I found the violence in that scene gratuitous,” etc. Some of my professors (but unfortunately not all) required that we start with the positive aspects of the manuscript, which was great until ONE person said something negative. Then suddenly the floodgates opened and everyone pounced on the opportunity to give negative critiques. Why? Because it’s SO much easier to give negative critiques than positive ones. SO MUCH EASIER. Whether a piece is magnificent or terrible, the flaws tend to be glaring. It’s much more difficult to articulate what works about a piece than what doesn’t. SO, the minute someone says that first negative critique, it’s all over. The writer is lucky if someone throws her a positive comment at the end. Once the pack of hungry dogs have been corralled back into their den, leaving the writer to lick her wounds, written critiques are handed over, this time with a minimum one-page, preferably typed, critique. (A copy of the critique goes to the teacher and counts toward the critiquing student’s grade, so they’re usually fairly thorough.)

Whether in a group/workshop with format one or format two, it’s important to leave the writer with some positive feedback to take home. I knew one woman who, while being critiqued, marked a check for every time she heard a positive or a negative comment. Her “negative” column was four times as long as her “positive” column, and it had nothing to do with her writing. (By the way, I DON’T recommend this practice. It’s terribly destructive to your self-esteem.)

The job of a critiquer is not to decide whether the writer should give up writing, and not to tell the person what she should write. It’s not her job to REwrite any portion of the person’s work either (not even sentences or phrases). It’s simply to tell the writer what works, what doesn’t, and what are some suggestions for improving the manuscript. If a person doesn’t like the genre at all, that person has to 1) Critique the piece as objectively as possible 2) Consider moving into a writer’s group that includes only the genre she does like. For example, if everyone in your group is writing sci-fi and you’re a literary fiction writer, maybe you need to change groups. If not, you’d better learn to critique sci-fi without being biased toward the genre.

What about you? What experiences (good or bad) have you had with writers’ groups? What did you learn from those experiences?

12 Ways to Overcome Writer’s Block

Meghan Ward — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 08:37:16 +0000

Many people think they never get writer’s block. They see writer’s block as this weird disease that only people like Hemingway got once they had published ten books and had run out of things to say. But almost every writer I know has days when she sits down at her computer and doesn’t want to write, or doesn’t know what to write, or hates everything she writes, or worse yet, doesn’t bother to sit down at the computer at all. She goes to the gym, reads a book, does some research, goes for a hike, knits a scarf, and the next things she knows, six months have passed and she hasn’t written anything. That’s called writer’s block. So, how do you get around it? Here are ten methods that work for me:

1. Aim to write a bad book (or bad story, or bad chapter). This will eliminate your fear of writing crap. It will shut off your internal editor and allow you to just sit down and write, no matter what comes out.

2. If you’ve already written a bad book (or a so-so book, or a good book), and you’re in the revision stages, aim to make this draft just a little bit better. Don’t expect this draft to be the final draft, or a great draft, or even a much better draft. Just aim to make it a little bit better than the last draft.

3. Break your big goals into bite-sized, manageable tasks. Make them so small you will eliminate all your fear and resistance. For instance, if your goal is to write 1000 words today and you really really really would rather clean the gutters, try writing just 100 words. Still want to clean your gutters? How about 50 words, or even 25? Once you get started, you’ll find yourself writing much more than you expected.

4. Write in a journal. These could be morning pages à la Artist’s Way, or they could be typing on your computer about how sick you are of your book, how much you’d rather be outside, how you have a million things to do, how you need to make more money, etc. Just get it all out so you can move on.

5. Find the fun in writing again. Remember why you first started writing? It was fun. And reading was fun. You loved it and thought it would be much more fun to write for a living than to clean gutters. Now that you’re finding yourself applying for gutter-cleaning jobs, think back to when writing was fun. What was fun about it? Inventing bizarre stories? Getting revenge on ex-girlfriends by turning them into villains in your novel? Take a break from your WIP to write something fun. It could be a poem, a sci-fi story, a children’s story—anything. Fall in love with writing again.

6. Put your WIP aside for a while and write something else. Work on a short story for a while, or an essay. Don’t set it aside for too long, but sometimes you need a break. I did this last week. I started a new book and about half hour into it, I missed my WIP. I closed the document and went back to work on my book.

7. Take a break from writing for a while. Give yourself a chance to miss writing. Don’t set goals; there’s no point in feeling bad about yourself if you really need to take a break. Give yourself a finite amount of time—a week, a month, whatever you need. Use that time to do some things you’ve been missing out on. Take a vacation, get some exercise, cook some gourmet meals. Then get back to work.

8. Research. Spend some time researching your WIP. Gathering information is a fun and easy break from writing and will serve you when you sit down to write. But limit your time researching so that it becomes a means to get excited about writing again and not as a means to procrastinate.

9. Eavesdrop. Spend sometime sitting in cafes eavesdropping on conversations and taking notes. This is a great way to learn to create authentic dialogue and it gives you an excuse to drink tea and eat chocolate croissants.

10. Reread your WIP. I find that reading my book helps me in three ways. 1) I find myself automatically editing and before I know it, I’m working on my book again. 2) It makes me realize that my book is good and WILL sell one day. 3) It helps me stay connected to my work in a way that is resistance-free. There is NOTHING scary about reading, so I can put in a few hours on my book without much effort at all and, like I mentioned in 1), before I know it, I’m writing again.

11. Read other books. Underline/highlight when you read. When you come across great passages, fabulous descriptions, apt metaphors, take notes. Reading good books will help you to become a better writer, and it will get you excited about writing again.

12. If all else fails, check out Jerry Mundis’ methods for fighting writer’s block. He has an audio seminar and an out-of-print book that this writer raves about. I asked Sean Miller, by the way, whether he still thought Mundis’ strategies for fighting writer’s block worked now that three years have passed, and here was his response: “Three years gone, I still wholeheartedly endorse Mundis and his method. Without it, I don’t think I would have finished my doctoral thesis in a timely fashion with a minimum of stress.”

Your Writing Props

Meghan Ward — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 15:00:59 +0000

Two posts, one in which Christi Corbett asks What Inspires You While You Write? and one in which Christine Lee Zilka asks What is your writing uniform? got me thinking about what rituals people perform before they settle down to write. One writing colleague of mine wears tape on his eyebrows when he’s writing. I’m not sure why. I should ask him. I’ve heard of others who play music, do a little meditation, write some morning pages, etc. I do none of those things (maybe that’s my problem). I don’t wear special clothes (period clothes in Christi’s case; pajamas in Christine’s), perform any rituals, or have a bulletin board covered with photos of my character (since my character is me, that would be a little weird). I do have a visualization board next to my desk, but I rarely look at it. And, when I work from home, I often don’t bother to change out of my pajamas until I have to be at a doctor’s appointment or run an errand. But most of the time I’m just there in my jeans and my sweater, typing away—no music, no votive candles, no talismans—just me, a cup of rooibos tea, a pile of dark chocolate, and the blank page.

What about you? Do you have any writing rituals, favorite outfits, or props?

Link Love

Meghan Ward — Mon, 31 May 2010 08:24:52 +0000

It’s been three weeks since I posted links! So here we go …

In random tech/social media news: Here are 10 Tips for being awesome online, a post on how to get more Twitter followers, and the best book editors on Twitter.

In all things iPad: From the New York Review of books, the iPad vs the Kindle. From Fast Company,10 essential iPad tips. For people who have an iPad and use Dropbox (like moi), DropBox has come to iPad. And from this past weekend’s Hacks/Hackers Unite Conference, a list of iPad media app ideas.

From SF Gate, three Bay Area authors use the Internet to get their books out.

In other news, agent Janet Reid foresees a publishing revolution in the arrival of the enhanced e-book.

Alan Rinzler hypes the benefits of creating an iPad app for your book.

Nathan Bransford had a great post on voice a while back and another on how to write a one-sentence pitch. Also, if you missed it, the one sentence, one paragraph, and two paragraph pitch.

Samuel Park sings the praises of wrieaders and answers the question we blogger writers ask ourselves every day: Does blogging help?

Intern deconstructs the novel.

Eric at Pimp My Novel says you don’t need an MFA to write literary fiction.

Agent Kristen Nelson answers the question, does age matter when you’re trying to get published?

Guest blogger for Rants & Ramblings, Mary DeMuth says writers must be three Ts in order to succeed: tenacious, talkative, teachable.

And in case you missed Betty White on SNL on May 8, you can see
here.

Happy Memorial Day to everyone!

101 Ways to Avoid Writing

Meghan Ward — Wed, 26 May 2010 17:00:26 +0000

All writers, particularly when they are faced with a difficult scene/chapter to write, have their favorite ways of procrastinating. But for those of you who are tired of procrastinating the same way all the time, and need some new, fresh ideas, I’ve compiled a list to help you in your times of need:

1. Blog
2. Do your laundry
3. Read a book
4. Do the dishes
5. Go running
6. Make some tea
7. Get something to eat
8. Check your e-mail
9. Balance your checkbook
10. Shop online
11. Read/comment on other blogs
12. Read the newspaper
13. Walk your dog
14. Take care of your kids
15. Go to the bathroom
16. Watch TV
17. Clean the house
18. Organize your desk
19. Call a friend
20. Go shopping
21. Clean out the basement
22. Take a nap
23. Take some photos
24. Download those photos
25. Organize those photos
26. Upload those photos
27. Look at Facebook
28. Twitter
29. Update your website
30. Sync you iPod/iPhone/iPad
31. Do some yoga
32. Bake some cookies
32. Eat some cookies
33. Start a photo album
34. Send a birthday card
35. Do your taxes
36. Go out for dinner
37. Check the mail
38. Pay your bills
39. Write a To-Do list
40. Respond to an e-mail
41. Water the plants
42. Make a doctor’s appointment
43. Go to the doctor
44. Go to the dentist
44. Browse for books
45. Return something to a store
46. Go grocery shopping
47. Cook something
48. Go to the dry cleaners
49. Buy someone a gift
50. Send someone a gift
51. Meditate
52. Feed your cat
53. Play with your kids
54. Donate to a charity
55. Go for a walk
56. Go out for coffee
57. Plant a vegetable garden
58. Take out the trash
59. Start a worm compost bin
60. Plan your next vacation
61. Think of ways to save money
62. Look at stocks
63. Listen to a podcast
64. Research baby products
65. Research cars
66. Book a camping trip
67. Take your cat to the vet
68. Plant some flowers
69. Knit
70. Wash the windows
71. Skype with a friend
72. Call your Mom/Dad
73. Kill a spider
74. Watch the sunset
75. Splash in a puddle
76. Backup your documents
77. Read a magazine
78. Iron your shirts
79. Change a lightbulb
80. Go on a vacation
81. Go for a hike
82. Go to the beach
83. Go for a bike ride
84. Give your dog a bath
85. Put flea drops on your cat
86. Make homemade gifts/cards
87. Make candy
88. Go to a movie
89. Google exes
90. Look up gradeschool friends on Facebook
91. Learn a new language
92. Download some apps
93. Play a video game
94. Play with your Wii
95. Play Farmville
96. Change your profile picture
97. Go out late and sleep in late
98. Take a long, hot bath
99. Host a dinner party
100. Restock your disaster bin
101. Write a list of things you are grateful for

What about you? Can you think of any more ways to procrastinate?

Self-Sabotage Report

Meghan Ward — Tue, 25 May 2010 07:55:38 +0000

Okay, who did their homework? Did you keep track of the times you sabotaged your writing and the times you almost did, but chose not to? Here’s my report from Monday and Wednesday of last week and Monday of this week:

Monday
1. Went running instead of writing, but compromised and did a short run.
2. Resisted writing e-mails, balancing checking account, and blogging during writing hours.
3. Almost stopped writing to edit, but then resisted and continued writing.
Self-Sabotage Level: 1

Wednesday
1. Decided to work from home to avoid commute and get more done.
2. I wanted to look at a preschool website, and I did.
3. I wanted to make a haircut appointment, and I did.
4. I wanted to run to the bank and to get lunch, and I did.
5. I wanted to balance my checkbook, and I did.
(I realized at this point that I was really tired, and that when I’m tired, I can’t focus on writing and instead do everything to sabotage my writing. The smart thing would have been to take a nap.)
6. I wanted to do more banking, but I did not.
7. I still wanted to do more banking, and I did.
8. I received a long e-mail from a friend but resisted reading it.
(Finally started writing at 2:42 p.m. and wrote for 1.5 hours.)
9. Checked e-mail and then was about to look at Yahoo groups, and I did.
10. Was about to send an e-mail to everyone in a group, but I didn’t.
11. I wasn’t going to post to my blog, and then I did.
12. I wasn’t going to comment on other blogs, and then I did.
13. I wrote just 1.5 hours today, but I did make my weekly goal of 10 hours.
Self-Sabotage Level: 8

What I learned from last week’s experience was that when I’m well rested and consciously logging my self-sabotage, I get a lot more done, but that when I’m really tired, I just don’t care that I’m sabotaging myself and do it even when I’m aware of it. I also noticed that I lose motivation to work more hours than my pre-set goal, which makes me want to rethink my goals.

This week my experience was a little different. I was in a “poor-me-I-never-had-time-to-myself” mood over the weekend. I also had a little epiphany about happiness while tutoring a student on writing an essay about happiness. (I’ll share that later). So I decided today to run some errands and go to the gym, things I knew would make me feel better, before I started writing. By the time I ate lunch and wrote for an hour, I was so tired, I lay down to take a nap and didn’t get up for two hours. The result? My workday was over, and I’d only written for one hour. But instead of beating myself up about it, I vowed to make up the hours after the kids went to bed, and I did. Often, though, what happens when I allow myself to indulge is that I don’t get a chance to make up the hours, and I fall behind my goals. The answer, I think, lies in the comments section of my last post: balance, balance, balance. We all need breaks to get fresh air, watch a movie, go out to eat, whatever it is we like to do. But we’re smart people. We know the difference between the things that really improve our lives (like exercise) and the things that are time wasters (like TV and surfing the Net). It’s by being really honest with ourselves that we can identify when we’re sabotaging our writing and when we’re taking a much needed break that will bring some new energy and a fresh perspective to our writing.

How about you? When do you sabotage your writing? Do you do it consciously or unconsciously? And, if you did the homework, what did you learn?