Writers in the Storm

Tasha Seegmiller

I started playing around with writing in 2010. I joined a critique group about a year later, and with a few exceptions for LIFE, we have met every two weeks to exchange pages. In that time, three of us signed with agents (myself included), one of us self-published three books.

The two who also have agents have published two stand-alone MG novels with a YA to come out 2021, and the other has published a YA historical fantasy trilogy with a stand-alone also coming out 2021 (yes, I secretly hope they have the same release date…). I still linger in the status of agented.

If you have been on social media at all in the last few weeks, you’ve likely seen either “the decade is coming to an end, how will you finish?!?” or “share the great things you did this last decade!” conversations. While they can be fun and inspiring, if you aren’t quite where you wanted to be, it can be frustrating. Demoralizing. Self-doubt inducing. Somehow, I don’t think this is a just me situation.

So, as you are looking beyond the holiday season, however you celebrate, I would like to encourage you to block out some time away from loved ones, some time when you can sit, on your own, and do a couple things:

1.    Go find a piece of writing as close to the beginning of the decade as possible.

Read it.

How far did you get before you could see things you could make better? Why do you think you see that now when you might have thought it was pretty good before?

My friend, it’s because your understanding of writing has gotten better, deeper. You understand nuances of the craft you didn’t know then. Just like we often have to put marks on the wall to show our children they are growing, we need to let ourselves see where we were before to see how far we’ve come.

2.    Jot down the projects and pieces you have worked on throughout this decade.

I don’t care if it won a contest, got you your agent, if that piece initiated a relationship with a publishing house, or if it won awards. Everything you have written counts.

On a piece of paper, write what you learned while writing that piece. Did you think you were a YA author and started writing and realized the voice felt wrong (this was me)? Did you learn how to write a new POV, how to draw out the emotional potential of a scene or chapter or book? Did you learn about pacing and how to make the reader lean in? Did you learn a new form of organization? If you learned it, write it down.

3.    Imagine chatting with someone who is just starting their writing journey.

Pretend they just asked you how it all works. Can you outline what CP and POV and beta readers are? Do you know about query letters and synopses and what R&R means? (if you don’t, I’m giving you some hints.) Did you know what this was a decade ago? Who are you following and interacting with on social media that you didn’t know a decade ago? What advice would you give to this person about how to start, what to expect?

Did you realize you knew as much as you did?

4.    Identify things you don’t know or don’t practice like you’d like to.

One of the funny things about the writing world is there are people who can’t wait to have an agent, an editor, a deadline. And there are authors with all those who sometimes yearn for the days they weren’t writing with deadlines. The grass is greener and all that.

If you are not as dedicated to your craft as you’d like to be, what might you do to make those changes? If you are dedicated to your craft, are you still having fun with the creation?

If not, why? This isn’t to say you will go from a person who staggers out of bed at 7:00 to a member of #5amwriters overnight (seriously, you’ll make it three days. Don’t try this). And this isn’t to say that you dismiss contractual obligations because that book just got hard (they are ALL going to get hard).

But it is a good time to ask yourself how this whole thing would look, in an ideal world, for you. A couple of 20-30 minutes sessions of writing? Two dedicated hours? A “dessert” thing you dabble in when you have met your obligations for the day?

Now, here’s where it gets really tricky…

5.    What is the ONE thing you can do to start toward that goal.

Prior to WWII, the word priority wasn’t plural. Ever. You didn’t have a priority list, you had a priority. You didn’t have your top priorities, you had a priority.

Flip to a new document or a new piece of paper and write down where you’d like to be. Then work backwards. If you have lots of projects you’ve started but never finished, you may have the goal of finishing. But you aren’t going to do that in a day or a week or likely even a month.

What do you need to do in order to finish? What has prevented you from finishing before? What modification can you make to allow yourself time and space to get a little closer to that goal? What do you need to do during January 2020 to help you do this? What do you need to do January 1–4 to help you do this? What do you need to do today to help you do this? What can you do right now to help you do this?

And so on. You go smaller and smaller until you see the one thing that will help you start toward your goal. It might be watching a show AFTER you’ve met your writing goal. It might be gradually guiding yourself toward being a morning person (15 minutes earlier, 3-4 days at a time, please). It might be that you stay at work 30 minutes later, or go to work 30 minutes earlier.

As someone who lives in the real world, I know this isn’t going to ideally happen every single day. It just won’t. So as you are striving toward your goal, you have to give yourself some grace and remember you are striving, working on, practicing. And when a setback happens, see if it was preventable, and if not, que sera and try again tomorrow.

You have done amazing things. You will go on to do amazing things. Remember to set goals you have control over (this basically means don’t say sign with, publish with, have books made into ... you don’t control that), go backward until you find the one thing, and then keep at the practice.

What did you realize you have learned this last decade? Do you know what you are thinking about for your big goal in the upcoming year? What is the one thing you can do to baby step toward that goal?

About Tasha

Tasha Seegmiller believes in the magic of love and hope, which she weaves into every story she creates. She is the president of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association and studying in the MFA in Writing Program at Pacific University, and teaches composition courses at Southern Utah University. Tasha married a guy she’s known since she was seven and is the mom of three teens and co-owner of a cotton candy company. She is represented by Annelise Robey of Jane Rotrosen Agency.

Laura Drake

Description, run-on words, similes and metaphors are all ways to get your meaning across to your reader. I got the first two, but metaphors and similes....they were a bit fuzzy (school was a looooong time ago for me). Until I watched this scene from Renaissance Man, with Danny DeVito (if you've never seen it, you're missing out). I'll never confuse them again. Watch. We'll wait.

https://youtu.be/UBlMLlfJrRc?t=45

Simile = "like" something—comparing one thing to another. Metaphor = this IS that. Got it? Okay, but how can all this junior high English help strengthen your writing?

If you've read WITS much, you know I have a theory that extra words water down a scene, rather than strengthen it. I espouse "write tight." Comparisons are a shortcut. If you want something to hit home, but you need to do it fast, this is how. But the right comparison can do even more; it can add life to your scene. It puts the reader in the scene, because they've experienced the comparison.

This is from my WIP, The Road to Me. Nellie is an 84-year-old grandma.

Nellie is perky today, leaning forward, hands on the dash like a little kid going to McDonalds.

I could have described the look on her face, her movement, or her body language. But in comparing her to something disparate, can you "see" her excitement? Instead of telling you she's excited, the simile shows that she is. And the fact that it compares her to a child adds a tiny hit of humor, punching the power to a higher level.

I glare at Nellie, the picture of innocence. Her mouth is a machine gun with a hair trigger.

Metaphor: her mouth IS. And comparing it to something dangerous shows that the POV character fears what Nellie will say. This is making your words to double-duty, and it makes your text rich—meaty.

Speaking of, Margie Lawson taught me another comparison short-cut: Eponym – to substitute a name for an attribute. It takes some thinking, but it's a very short shortcut, and it can be powerful. You have to be careful to choose references all readers will understand though, or it flies over their heads.

Her dad’s Atticus Finch to Junior’s Vinnie Gambini.

Those are the basics. But here's where the fun comes in. You can pile up comparisons to move the character forward; to show their train of thought, that ends at a station of epiphany (see how I snuck in that comparison? God, I love this). Here's another example from The Road to Me:

It’s terrifying to think of going back to ground level where everything I’ve built is teetering over my head.

But I’m beginning to believe that’s exactly what I must do. 

If I can muster the courage. But if I swept all I have into a pile, would it be enough? If it isn’t, what then? Like at the edge of the Grand Canyon, where the ground crumbled away from my feet, vertigo slaps me. Leaving the science behind would be like leaping off that canyon wall, trusting that I had wings, in spite of the mirror, telling me I don’t.

A leap of faith.

It terrifies me. 

But so does failure. 

I still have to work on it a bit—I like the shaky building comparison, but it's just a bit off from the vertigo comparison. But the point is, these pile up and take her to the letting go and flying, which is exactly where her journey has led her, and what she MUST do to get everything she wants. My hope is that I've taken the reader to that edge and had them look over—they're experiencing the fear that the character is. Only you can tell me if I succeeded.

But can you see the advantage of using comparison as a shortcut to make your writing stronger?

If so, my job here is done.

Have you found this device to be helpful? Would you share a comparison from your work or others'?

About Laura

Laura has a new website! Check it out, and sign up for her newsletter. If you're looking for a new website, you can't go wrong with Authorbytes!

by John Peragine

As authors, we become, over time and reputation, an ambassador of the written word. It is a place of honor, but not one we always ask for or seek.

To readers and new writers, we appear to have these mystical powers. We are these wise sages that can move words around into a magical combination with seemingly little effort. As masters of our craft, we are sought for our wisdom and help, and here is where the carefully built castle of cards falls down.

How do we give our honest assessment in a way that will help and inspire if what we read is not inspiring? In fact, it could be considered bad.

Different Responses

As a new writer, when I met editors, agents, and the like, I thought they were standoffish, guarded, and unsociable. In a couple of cases, they were downright aggressive and rude. But as they became friends, I realized it was merely my perception. They are pleasant human beings and very sociable once they determined one crucial thing: I was not going to ask them to read anything or to represent me.

Agents receive hundreds and even thousands of queries a month from writers asking them to read their novel. It is overwhelming, and so they make it a point to keep people at arm’s length. It is a pure survival reflex.

Other industry experts decide to monetize what they know. They do workshops, get paid to speak at conferences, and offer coaching packages. For the right price, you too can learn from a master. Again, this is a fair way to handle people’s need for assistance. Most legitimate coaches have spent years and perhaps thousands of dollars to hone and master their craft. They should be paid for that time and experience.

These coaches might answer a simple question or two, but then suggest you sign up for their next seminar. They’re not willing to give all their trade secrets away for free. For newer authors this can be frustrating, especially if they don’t have the funds to pay for the help.

I fall somewhere in the middle.

A client of mine helped me shift my way of thinking about my writing knowledge. As a finance and investment professional, he often conducted free seminars or would talk to you about anything he could help with.

When I asked why he did that, he responded, “I give away my knowledge. That costs me nothing, as it is already all out in the world anyway. I charge for what I do. If I am working, I am being paid for it.”

What an excellent concept. I do get paid to do some classes at conferences. But I tell people all the time that if they have a question or need to bounce off some ideas, they can contact me. I will even read something if it is short.

Here is what I have learned:

I can tell someone how to write all day long, but that does not mean that they don’t need help. They may still hire me as a ghostwriter or a coach. Why? Because I have already demonstrated my depth of knowledge, my generosity and, most importantly, my value.

The Contract

Wouldn’t life be so much easier if everyone had skills in what they were passionate about? It's such a thin, delicate line between impossible and improbable. I am not the judge of a person’s ability to write or not. I genuinely believe no one has that power or right to make that determination.

I spent 10 years studying music, and the last five I was in a music conservatory. When I was about to graduate, the man I had seen every day, whom I respected, loved and worked my ass off for, broke my heart. He said, “John, you are a good flute player, but you are not a great one. You will never play professionally, so you might want to find a different line of work.”

I was devastated. Then I was angry. And finally, I was motivated. Within two years, before I had even graduated from college, I auditioned and made it into a symphony orchestra.

I got into my car and drove two hours back to my old school. I found my old instructor teaching a master class and interrupted. After I shook his hand, I showed him my contract. I said for his ear only, “Thank you for not believing in me; it forced me to believe in myself.” I walked out and we never spoke again.

The Talk I Dread

We know as authors that words have power and that we must choose them wisely.

If you are a writer for long enough, you will have at least one (but probably many) persons send you their manuscript and ask what you think. You will read the first page and shake your head a little and turn to the next page. Now your heart is racing, and you’re sweating as you turn to the next page, and you stop. You can’t go on and you are having a panic attack because you will have to say something to the author.

Often that early writing is terrible, and you are not sure of a fix because they don’t really have a grasp on any conventions of writing. They don’t seem to have any talent based upon what you are reading, and you are not certain classes on craft will necessarily help.

I get that text: “So, what do you think?”

I think my stomach might strangle my throat in a mercy kill. How can I be honest while at the same time not breaking their spirit? How can I tell them all that is wrong and yet be positive and inspiring?

The answer is, I am honest. I tell them where they need improvements, where they can find resources, and I use the term “good first effort.” I tell them that, like all authors, there is still so much work they need to do.

The response is mixed—excitement, inspiration, and even utter devastation. I have learned not to take it personally, because they asked me for my opinion. I am careful to sandwich—a compliment, a critique, and end with a compliment. Just a spoon full of … well, you get the point.

It is a dreadful conversation, but a necessary one.

They have a choice. Do the work, give up, or hire someone to help them. That is their choice to make. I want them to come to me someday, with their contract for their soon-to-be-published book in hand. I hope they thank me for my kind, yet honest help. 

Be a mentor. Be generous and kind. But always be authentic and truthful. You are writers, pick the right words, and you can help another author, who was just like you, to grow.

Who was your mentor? Who made the difference between newbie and published writer? What advice would you give to "newbie you?"

About John

John Peragine has published 14 books and ghostwritten more than 100 others. He is a contributor for HuffPost, Reuters, and The Today Show. He covered the John Edwards trial exclusively for Bloomberg News and The New York Times. He has written for Wine Enthusiast, Grapevine Magazine, Realtor.com, WineMaker magazine, and Writer's Digest.

John began writing professionally in 2007, after working 13 years in social work and as the piccolo player for the Western Piedmont Symphony for over 25 years. Peragine is a member of the American Society of Journalists and Authors. His newest book, The No Frills Guide to Book Marketing, will be released in Summer 2020.