Writers in the Storm

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.

Barbara Linn Probst

Ten ways to raise the stakes in your novel.

Six steps to making your protagonist more likeable.

Twelve questions to ask your beta readers.

Much of the writing advice we encounter is offered through lists and steps. It’s not surprising; sequential formulations pervade our culture. We have shopping lists and bucket lists, rosters and schedules and manuals that provide step-by-step instructions. We’ve gotten so used to sequential formulations that it may seem as if that’s the only way to organize knowledge.

For about thirty percent of us, however, life is processed spatially, not temporally—not as a linear progression but as pattern, network, array. We see mosaics, parts in relation to the whole. If you’re not sure which kind of person you are, think about how you “know” how to get somewhere. Do you rely on a series of routes and turns or on landmarks?

Awareness of visual-spatial processing goes back to 1981, when psychologist Linda Kreger Silverman coined the term to explain the challenges—and gifts—of youngsters whose “upside-down brilliance” made it difficult for them to learn in traditional ways. Despite the work of Silverman and others, the sequential approach still dominates our educational system. That’s true for adult learners as well. Writers seeking to improve their skills—who happen to be visual-spatial processers—may find much of the available “advice” difficult to implement. They need other tools.

In fact, we all need visual-spatial tools! Some aspects of writing do lend themselves to checklists but others—e.g., organizing the relationships among characters—are best served by non-sequential techniques. A well-stocked toolkit needs both. The strategies below are for all of us, regardless of our primary learning style, and can provide an important complement to the plethora of sequential strategies that are already available.

Ironically, the only way to offer sample tools is through—you guessed it—a list!  However, the tools themselves aren’t based on lists.  Here are some examples.

Relationship Mapping

Stories have characters, and characters have relationships to each other and to the novel’s protagonist—relationships based on affinity, aversion, power, vulnerability, motivation, history, temperament, age, gender, and so on. As the author, you need to understand and keep track of these relationships, which can be quite complex—too complex to be conveyed by a list.

Social work has a tool called an ecomap, developed by Ann Hartman in 1975, that can help. The ecomap is a diagram that shows an individual in relationship to the people and social systems in her environment. The person is placed in the center, at the hub, with people and systems arrayed around her and connected—to her, and to each other—by arrows and lines. The lines can be thick or thin (strong or weak), solid or hatched (positive or negative), with arrows indicating the flow of energy (mutual or one-way).

Writers can adapt the ecomap by placing the novel’s protagonist in the center of a circle, with other characters arrayed around her, at varying distances. The lines between the characters will illuminate patterns of isolation, alliance, dependence, and power.

A quick note: While there probably are computer programs that can help you do this, there’s something to be said for drawing a diagram by hand.  If you google images for “ecomap,” you’ll find a dozen templates to choose from.

Ditto for the other techniques below.  Colored marking pens, images cut from magazines, yarn, movable post-it tags in a variety of colors—make it fun!

Territory Mapping

As your story opens, your protagonist is at a particular time and place (psychological as well as geographical) on the map of her life. She journeys outward from that starting point, into territory that may be familiar or unfamiliar, zigzagging, backtracking, leaping, spiraling.

On her journey, she encounters other characters who are on their own journeys. Their turf may intersect, merge, compete, move closer together or farther apart during the course of the story.  Drawing their overlapping territory maps—in different colors for each character—is another way to help you visualize the evolving relationships within the story.

The idea of a journey may call to mind the linear journeys depicted in classic board games like Candyland or Chutes and Ladders. A territory map is not necessarily “flat” or linear, however. It can have additional dimensions. For example, a “place” on the map (a literal place or a kind of experience such as jealousy or disappointment) can have third-dimensional depth as it evokes and connects with similar experiences at earlier times in the protagonist’s life. It’s a spot of special intensity on her map.

Thematic Webs

Structurally, stories contain elements or motifs: emotions like jealousy, ambition, fear, regret; concepts like sacrifice or the power of secrets; narrative movements like choices, reversals, and betrayals. Some elements are central, serving as hubs from which secondary motifs radiate. These motifs intersect, like crisscrossing trails, to thwart, divert, or reinforce each other. 

To capture the interplay of these motifs, each can be drawn in a different color as it moves across the linear story. A motif can have peaks, valleys, and plateaus. Overlaying the “journeys” of several motifs will reveal their connections. When one element peaks or intensifies, another may have a valley or a corresponding intensification.

Scene Grids

Other visual-spatial tools use grids or spreadsheets, with “cells” formed by the intersection of elements along two axes. These “cells” show you where elements occur.

For example, you can list each scene along the horizontal axis. Then, along the vertical axis, you can list the elements you want to track—who is present in the scene, where it takes place, weather, mood, key (symbolic) objects that are mentioned, and so on. That way, you can quickly see when and how often certain elements appear. You may decide that you need to spread out the occurrences of a particular element (a phone call, wind, a sudden departure) or replace an overused location. Do your characters spend a lot of time sitting at the kitchen table? Does it always seem to be dawn or dusk?

You want to look at the variation in scene openings. To do so, list the type of scene opening along the vertical axis: dialogue, a statement indicating a change of date or setting, a sensory detail, a bit of exposition, and so on. Or you might want to look at scene endings: an upturn, a setback, a surprise, etc.

A grid can give you a visual overview so you can see, at a glance, if (and where) certain devices are overused and ought to be varied.

What Else?

These are just some examples of ways to think about your story that don’t rely on a list or linear outline. There’s no need to use all of them—but do try the ones that spark an aha. 

The best novels tend to be both sequential and spatial, of course. They’re sequential because the story moves forward, horizontally, in a chain of cause-and-effect developments. But they’re also spatial because each point in the story has multiple layers, a verticality or “thickness” composed of the elements in relationships to one another.

Now try some of these tools on your own story. 

Which visual-spatial strategies helped to illuminate elements of your story that you’d like to understand better? 

When you mapped these elements, did you encounter any surprises?

Did you adapt the tools or come up with additional tools?  If so, please share your discoveries!

An earlier version of this article appeared on Writers Helping Writers in July 2018.

About Barbara

Barbara Linn Probst is the author of Queen of the Owls, coming in April 2020 from the visionary, award-winning She Writes Press. Queen of the Owls has been chosen by Working Mother as one of the twenty most anticipated books for 2020 and will be the May 2020 selection of the Pulpwood Queens, a network of more than 780 book clubs throughout the U.S. To pre-order or learn more, please see http://www.barbaralinnprobst.com/

Julie Glover

My name is Julie, and I'm a recovering plate-juggler.

And by "recovering," I mean I couldn't even get my 30-day chip in this program. I have serious trouble with taking on far more than I can handle, and my list of ideas and projects rivals St. Nick's naughty-nice list.

Are you in the program too? How well are you doing?

Why We Need to Say No

Most writers have more story or marketing ideas than they have time for. If we don't intentionally prioritize, the urgent or the easy or the involves-others projects will weed out what we most want to accomplish.

Last week, I was excitedly talking to someone about a new opportunity, and it wasn't until a day or two later that I realized I needed to pass. As cool as their idea was, it would take time and effort away from other projects I'm doing—projects that are more meaningful to me.

We simply have to say "no" to some projects so that we can say "yes" to others.

Take Inventory

Do you even know how much is on your plate? You may not realize how many projects you've taken on if you haven't taken stock.

Take inventory of what obligations you currently have, what projects you're working on, what you have planned, and what you'd like to do. You can make a list, a visual map, or a spreadsheet—whatever works for you. Also consider what other daily activities engage your time.

Are you spending time where you really want? What could you offload? What could you add from your "like to do" list instead?

Get a clearer picture of where you are now to figure out where you want to go.

The Principle of One In, One Out

For the last few years, I've tried to follow the principle of "if one comes in, one goes out." So to take on a new project, I must push an existing one off my plate. That could involve finishing a current project—book published, conference over, etc.—or letting go of something I'd planned to do.

We have finite resources. There's only 24 hours in the day, 7 days a week, and you have to sleep, eat, and groom yourself in there somewhere. (Though grooming may be optional when up against an immediate deadline.) Unless and until you figure out how to clone yourself, you have to work with what you have.

If you're already up to your eyeballs, one more project will drown you. Commit to the principle of One In, One Out.

Or, for some us, it should be One In, Two Out. But let's start with a step in the right direction.

Set Priorities

How do you decide what comes in and what goes out? What if you love all of your current projects AND the one that's just come up?

Ask yourself: What's my your overall writing goal? Why am I writing?

Not every potential idea or project will meet your goals equally. For example, if you want to make X amount of money in the next year, you prioritize tasks that could bring immediate sales—like more books out the door, marketing new or existing books, redesigning your website. If you want to publish traditionally, you might prioritize polishing your best manuscript, attending events with agents and editors, getting submissions out. If you want to develop your craft... Well, you get the point.

Look at each project honestly and ask how it furthers your primary writing goal(s). If something sounds good but doesn't make the cut in this analysis, cut it for real. Make space for what matters.

Involve Your Peeps

If you still feel overwhelmed and don't know where to say no, ask the people who support you—family, friends, fellow writers, therapist. Whoever has your back in this writing gig, request their feedback on where to focus your efforts.

My husband has been invaluable to me in this. I will often go to him and say, "Hey, I have this great opportunity!" Almost before the words leave my mouth, he's smiling but asking, "So what you going to give up to do this new thing?" Hmm. Good question, sage fellow.

Then I process through my options with him, close friends, siblings, or whomever is the best one to ask on that particular project. But I'm forced to think through the pros and cons while hearing their great advice, from a perspective often more objective than my own.

So if you're on the fence, involve your peeps. They'll help you land on one side or the other. (Even if they have to push you.)

Do you have too many projects up in the air? How do you decide what to keep and what to quit?

About Julie

Julie Glover writes mysteries and young adult fiction. Her YA contemporary novel, SHARING HUNTER, finaled in the 2015 RWA® Golden Heart® and is now on sale! When not writing, she collects boots, practices rampant sarcasm, and advocates for good grammar and the addition of the interrobang as a much-needed punctuation mark.

Julie is represented by Louise Fury of The Bent Agency. You can visit her website here and also follow her on Twitter and Facebook.