As an experiment, I’ve decided it would be interesting to track my research for my current projects on the Blog. My aim is to create an ongoing conversation about those topics that affect the plots, characters, and settings of my current writing projects. If this experiment works, it will hopefully lead to more depth in understanding my writing subjects, both for me, and my readers. My guess is this will be more helpful after the fact, i.e., after someone has read a short story, to provide further informational sources. But one can never tell.
December 10, 2010
December 8, 2010
The Value of Physical Books
The Publishing in the 21st Century blog has recently posted an article about Oprah Winfrey’s current Oprah Book of the Month, a twin Edition of Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities, and Great Expectations, available as e-books for a price on Amazon, sold at bookstores, and available for free (for the kindle only) at the publisher’s website.
There has been a lot of back and forth about why books are priced as they are. Penguin, the publisher of this edition, claims the e-book is enhanced from the free versions offered directly from them. This seems to be a reasonable assertion considering how much effort goes into designing and editing the additional contents of an e-book, and editing the source material for the new format to begin with.
For physical editions, the cover price has to pay for, in addition to the editing costs of the new supplementary materials, printing, binding, shipping, and the labor of the folks at the bookstore in displaying and handling the books. In this case, the bookseller also has to deal with getting additional signage up and promoting the new edition in newsletters and advertisements.
But why a physical edition of this book? From my own personal perspective, e-readers have now matured sufficiently to allow markups, i.e., taking notes, directly in the text and those notes are effortlessly synchronized to the computer, so papers can be researched entirely electronically without paper and pencil. The only other reason for owning a physical copy, in my mind, is to get the author’s autograph.
But with this edition of Cities/Expectations there is one other factor. Oprah will be leaving the airwaves shortly, which means that her impact on the industry by selecting a pick of the month will also disappear (although she may continue this in her magazine). For the sake of continuity, or perhaps for the sake of collecting, many readers will purchase a physical copy for the sake of completing their Oprah Book Club Library.
Assuming you owned a current e-reader model, is there a reason you would want the physical book instead of the e-book?
December 7, 2010
November 25, 2010
Real World Settings, or Don’t Just Pick a Town for the Fun of It
I’ve just finished reading a collection of short stories whose author and title shall remain nameless, except to say that they were all set in one manner or another in my home state. Now, I’ve read many stories set in rural New England, some period, some modern. Some, like H. P. Lovecraft’s, evoke place in such a concrete manner that I can’t help but see myself in those places. A very fine example is Pickman’s Model, where the feel of Newubry Street and the North End of Boston is visceral to the point that I can imagine the smell of veal scalopini cooking in the background. Another good example is Brunonia Barry’s book, The Map of True Places which evokes Salem to the point that I could see myself on Derby Street near the House of the Seven Gables looking up at the widow’s walk of her fictional house, smelling the salt air.
So, it pains me to no end when I read something so uninformed in setting that I not only can’t picture the town it’s supposedly set in, but realize the story could be set anywhere in the rural northeast by simply changing the name of the town in the story.
This leads me to consider what the true purpose of setting is in story. Books on writing generally say the same things about setting, which is that it should reflect the story in some manner, and that it should also reflect the action. I don’t feel that this really goes far enough. In my view, setting should be considered carefully from two perspectives. Those are: how it serves the story; and authenticity.
Serving the Story
The setting for a scene, as well as the overarching story setting, should support the story in two ways.
First, it should reflect the mood of the main or viewpoint character in the scene. By this, I don’t necessarily mean that if the character is gloomy, they should be in a darkly lit circus tent, although if the story involves dark and lonely side show performers, that would work. Instead, make the setting gloomy to match the character’s inner turmoil: an early February evening on a wind-swept beach, with darkness closing in, not even the sound of a seagull to pierce the scattering sound of sand.
Second, the setting should match the action of the scene. If the scene is a confrontation between two characters, conflict can be heightened by placing them in an active environment. For instance, an argument resulting in a major break between characters can take place at the entrance to a department store downtown, the Salvation Army Santa ringing his bell loudly while shoppers and commuters hustle by, nearly knocking the characters over, cutting between them, and punctuating the disagreement with street noise. Similarly, if the scene has a character reflecting over another character who loves books, a quiet spot, such as the cafe at a book store, or the reference room at a library might work, with the announcement of the book store closing, or the grandfather clock in the library chiming to break the end of the scene, respectively.
Authenticity
If a setting is being used for a reason, it needs to be described authentically. Simply by stating that a character walks into a store can be fine if the point is to bridge two other scenes. But if something substantial happens in that store (and something substantial had better happen in that store: scenes should never be included unless it furthers the plot) the store needs to be described in a way that is authentic, especially if it is a real non-fiction environment. This doesn’t mean it has to be described physically, but it needs to at least have an emotional component authentic to the store. Things like how the florescent lights bleach the walls, the fragrance counter exudes ambergris and vanilla, the grey carpeting chafes rubber soles underfoot, are all details that can build emotions like coldness, sexuality, or irritation, respectively. But if the store doesn’t have carpets or florescent lighting, or sell perfumes, don’t include it for effect.
Similarly, towns, neighborhood, or other real locales shouldn’t be used for a setting just because it happens to be a famous spot, or a place the writer always wanted to visit. A lack of authenticity in describing a real locale rings of amateurish writing skills, and is insulting to those readers familiar with the real world place who don’t recognize it in the writing.
Which brings me full circle to the reason I wrote this in the first place. The piece I read was insulting to me because I have been in many of the places it claims to be set in, but it rang false for two different reasons. One was the lack of description of the actual setting. Because of this, I remained unanchored to the story — it felt like it could have occurred anywhere. The other was the stories’ descriptions of landmarks that didn’t exist in the setting — the story not only didn’t happen where it claimed to have happened, but most definitely occurred somewhere else.
How did this change my experience of the stories? I found the attempt at anchoring the stories to a place distracting at best. At worst, the disconnect between the described setting and the actual setting undermined the authority of the writer, and made me turn ahead to see how many pages were left in the story. In a case like this, the story probably would have been best served by using a fictional place name, or altogether leaving the name out.
November 24, 2010
The Name a Character Contest
I’ve been ruminating on the next book for a while, and delaying drafting it. The plot is essentially complete, although I know from experience that there’s no such thing as “complete” until the final edit, and even then it might not be.
The new book is a bit of a cross between The Matrix meets The Office. I don’t want to give too much away, but the working title is “Mark Ix”, after the main character who finds himself the target of bizarre attacks by the office’s mail-delivery robots, and an invisible protagonist named “Smike”, who would like nothing more than for Mark to be sacrificed to the gods of computing. Mark’s department has been moved so often that his boss now occupies Mark’s outer office, and the staplers keep disappearing from everyone’s desks. Mark’s been falling for the girl in the next office, Lillian, a passive-aggressive software engineer who refuses to talk to anyone except her plants. Most alarming of all, however, are Mark’s frequent blackouts, leaving him with missing memories and a door tag with a new last name every time.
So that’s the basic gist of it. Now, I have a few minor characters I’m developing who need good clever names. So, as a kind of contest, I’m putting this out there for whoever wants to join in. Help me name one of these characters!
1: He works as the company archivist. I picture him as reserved, gaunt, and so introverted and high strung that if he snapped, there’d be nothing left to bury.
2: The maintenance worker, lethargic, and resistant to any kind of interaction with anyone, except to complain about how much work he has, and how much the conversation is setting him behind.
3: The secretary, who is always backtalking, even to her boss. Her primary goal is to offload as much of her work onto others as she can. She is also a passive-aggressive type, and knows how to use office equipment as weapons in order to defend herself.
4: A security officer. This character is stoic to a fault, like the crack running across his/her jaw from being wound up so tight. He/she isn’t very smart about much, but those areas that he/she knows he/she is an expert in, in fact hyperintelligent.
So, there are the four characters up for naming. Anyone who would like to help name these characters can submit a name by responding to this post. The best name will be used in the manuscript, and I’ll thank the winning contributor by name in the acknowledgments. Good luck!
November 9, 2010
New Lectures by John Quincy Adams
Alright, the lectures aren’t new, per se, but the text is.
I have begun the task of editing all of John Quincy Adams’ Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory out of frustration for not having a legible and accurate copy available anywhere other than a scarce hardbound copy of Volume II on my living room shelf. Since this work is in the public domain, I am sharing it freely and asking for feedback to improve it. It can be found on my web site here.
Why, you might wonder, bother with an obscure volume like this? I would argue that Adams’ eloquence alone is worth the reading. But more than that, writers can benefit from the piece as an example of how to match form to message. Not only are his lectures on rhetoric illuminating, they are themselves rhetorical genius.
May 3, 2010
Development of FileMaker-Based Writing Tools
Having recently purchased the new copy of FileMaker Pro 10 (actually one version older than the newest since I’m still running on OS 10.4…), I’ve now converted the old tools to FileMaker databases. One of the things that’s made this much easier is that instead of requiring separate files for relational database, FileMaker now contains multiple tables in the same file (which it didn’t as of version 5 — the last one I owned).
So, I’ve got two tools I’m developing. The first is a plot-card style system that uses Vogel’s Writer’s Journey, and Campbell’s Hero’s Journey to track where the holes in the plot are. It also allows me to quickly change scene order, insert new scenes, and delete scenes without losing them.
The second is a character database that helps track the full array of character information from multiple sources. More on this at a late time, though. It’s time to get to work…
2010 Muse and the Marketplace
This weekend was the big Muse and the Marketplace conference at the Boston Park Plaza Hotel. Last year I focused more on the marketing end of things, since I had polished my manuscript to a high shine (more on this later), so this year I attended sessions focusing on the craft. Here are some of my thoughts on the workshops:
• Creativity and a Sense of Place, with Brunonia Barry — This was a terrific workshop focused on treating the setting as a main character of the story, and recognizing that the manuscript can benefit from understanding the environment as intimately as you understand your protagonist.
• From Circumstance to Plot: Creating Narrative Drive, with Jessica Shattuck — The workshop was a hands-on session where random characters and settings were combined in an introductory paragraph. Several “What if?” questions illicited creative responses. It was a good brainstorming tool to find the story.
• The Art of the Query Letter, with Sorcha Fairbank — Sorcha gave a great candid talk about what she and other agents want to see in a query letter, and what they most definitely don’t want to see.
• The 10 Worst Legal Mistakes That a Writer Can Make, with Zick Rubin and Brenda Ulrich — The focus was on overall pitfalls, as opposed to contract-related problems, and in addition to contractual problems, also addressed problems and issues surrounding copyright and trademark laws, and collaboration and collaborative contracts.
• Writing Suspense: You Know It When You Feel It, with Hallie Ephron — Hallie is the author of “Writing and Selling Your Mystery Novel: How to Knock ‘Em Dead WIth Style” (as well as several mystery novels) and brought her knowledge to bear on dissecting the structure and tension in specific examples of suspense fiction.
• Ten Elements of a Great Thriller, with Joseph Finder — Finder, a former Harvard English professor, shared ten tips that define, and can improve a thriller.
• The Dreaded Synopsis, with Joanna Stampfel-Volpe — The best workshop I’ve ever been to about boiling a manuscript down to a synopsis. Joanna illustrated with an exercise where Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was quickly dissected to discover the central characters and plot to create a very brief synopsis that she, as an agent, would be interested in.
• Write the Great Beginning, with Michael Lowenthal, Scott Heim, and Kim McLarin — This ended up not being as useful as I’d hoped. After the session covered one basic tenet about writing the beginning of a story, it deteriorated into disparaging comments about genre fiction writers and readers, although McLarin did say that there was much that could be learned by literary writers from genre fiction, since it sells better that literary fiction. My thought on the matter is this: while it’s admirable to want to raise the bar of quality for the reading public, one can only attract converts to the philosophy through positive example, and not through cajoling. After all, with limited spending money, why would the consumer want to read something that talks down to them?
In addition to the sessions, I had my manuscript evaluated again. This time, the query letter would have enticed the agent, but the manuscript, she felt, needed additional polishing. THe specific comments were small things I had heard before, but discounted as a matter of preference, such as my characters’ cursing. Previously, since the story was narrated by my main character, curses of the four-letter variety peppered my narrative. I subsequently removed them, but now those curses in the dialogue, which was not removed, triggered a comment that while it was probably true to the characters, it had the appearance of being lazy writing. She also felt that my dialogue, which I felt was my strong point, was the weakest part of the manuscript because it didn’t sound realistic. I think it may be due to some artifacts of previous drafts that I skimmed over during the last revision — the section I provided for review was one of the first scenes I wrote way back when, and I’ve been a little too married to the dialogue.
So, what does this mean for the completed manuscript and where I go from here?
Well, I’m still plotting out the new novel, so that hasn’t changed. But I feel the need to do a bit more hands-on work before I revise the completed novel again. So, now is the time for a few short stories. These will probably be literary fiction, or perhaps fall in the category of Magical Realism. We’ll see.
As for conferences, I’m burnt out. Although I said the same thing to myself last year. Unless and until something really inexpensive comes along. Instead I’ll focus on writing groups and critiquing groups. Maybe I’ll take a class or two at Grub Street, or some other place.
But for now it’s time to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and write.
April 6, 2010
Back to the Cork Board, or A New Stab at an Old Project
It took two weeks of fretting and hair pulling, but I’ve finally laid to rest the one-page synopsis of my last project. As so often happens when I’ve completed a work, I became unfocused for a while after hitting the Print button. In the past, I’ve had other activities to prolong the birthing process, such as casting the play I’d just written, or submitting the script to producers, finding a director, working up a set and production schedule, and so forth. This time around, I don’t have that luxury of gently sliding off the steep side of the project onto a feather cushion.
Instead, while I edited the last novel manuscript, I doted on previous projects and picked one that had a special appeal to me. But the thing I pondered most about it was this: How do I go about picking up an essentially dead project and breath new life into it?
Now, a few points about what I’ve discovered my writing process to be. The completed manuscript I just finished began as a series of scene studies, about five fully written chapters, one and a half discarded chapters, and around twenty pages of notes spanning over four years. I had deconstructed and re-plotted it based on the character studies suggested by the completed chapter, and drafted it based on the new plot.
What worked in this case was creating the first five chapters as a set of character studies, then figuring out the plot, then rewriting the whole thing. Did rewriting those first five chapters feel like a wasted effort? Sure. Was it worth it? Hell, yeah. In the end, maybe about one paragraph remained wholly unchanged from the initial sketch to the final draft, and about a dozen in the same chapter remained mostly the same. (I checked this using MS Word’s Compare Documents feature…)
I am now faced with a similar conundrum. How do I get started again? I currently have about 20 pages of notes and ideas, five chapters and a prologue (which are not the greatest, but they were a first draft,) and a basic idea of a cast of characters. Where do I go from here?
The first step was to mount a foam-core board and pull out the pushpins. I’ve found I don’t have space enough currently for a really large cork-board, so I keep the board strung over the front of a bookcase. Next, made a series of markers on sticky notes — the names of each stage of Campbell’s Hero’s Journey. I don’t really know what direction the story will take at this point, but I need to suggest some sort of structure without imposing it in the plot. The Hero’s Journey seems to be a good jumping-off point, since this seems to be a quest and a love story.
The next step is to meticulously go through the previously written chapters and notes and cull out all of the plot points and story ideas. I’ve already begun jotting each one on its own index card and pinning it to the board somewhere within the Hero’s Journey. All of the cards are the same size and color at this point, to give them equal weight. As more are added, they’ll be shifted around until they make a semblance of plot.
The very act of writing the notes and moving the cards around on the board has already helped me begin to synthesize a new plot. There are a couple of surprises I didn’t expect, and realizations of what needs to be worked on next come to me in flashes as I rework the cards. This is a case of physical activity leading to mental breakthrough. This is one of the reasons why some writers get ideas going for walks, taking showers, or even taking pen to paper (as opposed to typing.)
Do I know what the next step is? No. Am I worried? Not on your life. After the first manuscript, I now know that the answers will be found when I need them, and that worrying about finding them can drive them away as fast as scaring the muse by looking her in the face.
March 18, 2010
Taxes, and Chasing the Rabbit Down the Hole
April 15 is just about here. Once again, the better part of a week has been spent shuffling together receipts and organizing them for the tax accountant. The remarkable thing about this exercise is not just the discovery of what can’t be taken as a deduction, but what can be taken as a deduction.
First, a quick disclaimer: I am not, nor have ever been a tax consultant or attorney. The following is my experience. Any tax questions should be addressed to a tax professional. Milage may vary.
While writing may not currently be my primary source of income, it is certainly my primary occupation. I don’t get paid enough for the work I put in, and I’m working toward changing that. It is not a hobby either. I’ve invested uncounted hours at the keyboard and lost numerous hairs that might have turned gray at some point over the craft.
In this argument lies my claim for writing expenses to be used as itemized deductions. But tax code is never as clear as it should be. I’ve been confused by what the IRS and the Massachusetts Department of Revenue (DoR) will allow for deductions. I have learned, basically, one must err on the conservative side. As long as ongoing work for a project can be demonstrated, expenses can be itemized and deducted.
So the real question becomes, how much can I deduct in writing expenses? The basic answer is anything up to my income, as long as it can be justified as writing-related. I’m allowed to have more writing expenses than income as long as it can be shown that work is ongoing, and not just a hobby.
This comes with a caveat. Certain research materials may not be deductible, because they weren’t used in any works. If I purchased a book, say, on 19th century ice cream manufacturing, and didn’t use any of the material in my writing, it becomes very difficult to justify the expense as writing-related. Other books, however, like fiction works by other authors like Kurt Vonnegut could be argued to be legitimate expenses for keeping my skills up and being aware of the field, but it’s made easier when I write commentary and post it on my web site for all to see, since my web site is also a marketing tool for my career (which, by the way, is also entirely deductible, including the software I use to design the graphics and the web hosting fee I pay each year.) The point is to try not to purchase more material than you think you’ll use in that year. And if someone knows that trick, please tell me.
Last year I deducted a research trip to Omaha. That means I was able to take the gas expenses, hotel expenses, and museum admissions off my taxes. Theoretically I could have taken my meals as well, but only listed those that I knew I had conducted business at, such as interviewing people over coffee, etc. At the same time, I wouldn’t have been able to deduct anything from the trip if none of my experiences made it into my manuscript. To prove use of the trip as a business expense, I’ve saved a copy of a pre-trip manuscript, and a copy of the post-trip manuscript, complete with descriptions of the midwest, the perfume counter at Dillard’s at the Crossroads Mall, and the varieties of pie at the Village Inn. (This was a cinch, since I keep electronic copies of all versions of my work.)
Another example is last year’s Muse and the Marketplace conference. The cost of the conference, the parking at the train station, and the ride in on the train can all be deducted in my case, because I work from home, and therefore any travel expense is conference-related. The key is keeping the evidence that the trip is work related. I took extensive notes on the sessions I attended, saved all the handouts with markups, put contact names into my address book, and bound the whole package and filed it away. Further evidence is that the meeting I had with the agent, and her feedback, were incorporated in my manuscript, and I’ve kept all email correspondence with her, as well as a developed query letter that benefited from further markups.
Other expenses that can be taken as deductions include things like books used as research, museum admissions, office supplies, office equipment, repairs to the equipment, and postage. And my $35 copyright fee from the Library of Congress.
Things that I decided not to press my luck on, although I understand I could justify them as writing expenses, include the haircut I got right before my presentation to the agent, since I was also partly courting her to represent me; the square footage of my office, and associated utility costs, because although I use the desk, computer and space as my only space for writing, it’s in my bedroom, and I also pay bills and sleep at it; a percentage of my vehicle maintenance and gas costs, because I haven’t really calculated what percentage of its use is for research and marketing. (The exception to this was the Omaha trip, because I knew the whole trip was for writing research.)
So, for preparation during the course of the year, it’s important to retain every last receipt. Mark up copies of utility and phone bills with the percentage of cost used for the business. And keep everything filed away neatly for reference for April 15.
The tax lessons continue as time goes on. Many of them I already knew from running a theater company in Boston for 4 years. Some are new, like how to keep careful track of every receipt, catalog them, and store them in case the IRS or DoR decides to audit, for the undetermined future, because unlike the rest of the law, the revenue code has no statute of limitations, and once one year’s taxes are audited, several others are likely to follow.
In the meantime, I’ll continue to develop this web site as a marketing tool for my writing, and write reviews and comments on books for the blog, and deduct those costs as well. Now, can I deduct the cost of a massage for tax-related stress relief?