Writers in the Storm

by Fae Rowen

To say that social media is not my strong suit is a lie. I'm not playing with a full deck; the social media suit is missing. And I don't care.

I prefer to call someone rather than text them. Why? Because I want to hear the pitch, the inflection, the tone of their voice.

As writers, that's what we do for our readers. We give them the subtleties of human interaction. And I want that in my everyday life. I want to live life, not check a little screen.

I know that we need to "put ourselves out there" for our readers. Readers want to know about their favorite writers and their lives. But where does that desire to know personal facts, private likes and dislikes cross the line?

As a person who would rather not be recognized, would rather not share the details of my daily life, I am not going to share that I'm traveling to Bucket List #42 destination next week then on to take a week-long class from the world's leading chocolatier in Paris. What if I walk into a hornet's nest on vacation or give myself food poisoning in my cooking class? I'll admit that to my closest friends, but expose my personal foibles to the world on a format that will last longer than my bones?

If you've been reading my posts for any length of time, you know that I don't paint a rosy picture of my life. I share what I believe to be appropriate to share, given why I'm communicating. My readers deserve to know when the next book in the series will be available. They deserve to know when I fall behind, and maybe a bit of the reason I'm not on time. Tidbits about how a character came to life or how I got a plot idea—those are fair game for "the public." The time I was afraid I would become an international incident is not.

Missing a production deadline happened to me for the first time in 2018. I'm not going to detail all the drama behind the deadline failures, though I have no problem sharing the new and improved production schedule, along with my apologies.

What does this mean? I'm willing to share pictures from my day or my trips—after I've returned. I'm willing to comment about my rescue cat, because I know that if I hadn't brought her home with me, she wouldn't be alive today. I share about writing, life lessons, the things that make me the writer I am today.

I wish I could be funny, or warm-and-fuzzy heart-warming, or find amazing pictures to post. Sometimes I wish I had the desire to spend hours instant messaging and responding immediately to likes and comments on my Facebook feed or Instagram account. But I don't have the time. Between writing and my daily schedule, I just don't have the time.

In the last five months of 2019, I'm looking at publishing three books. I've already talked to my publicist/marketer friend about ramping up the social presence during the spring. To me, that means I'll post a short story somewhere, check into my Instagram and Facebook accounts more than once a week, and schedule time to comment and share more.

Marketing myself and my books is not what I want to spend time doing, but then, I don't think that's why any of us are writers. I do, however, want my stories to be read. I want my ideas and my future societies to be thought about, talked about. And to do that, I have to make people aware of them. So I will use social media, because it is an amazing marketing tool for the average person like me.

Who knows? Maybe after a handful of years of more involvement with social media, I'll tolerate it better. After all, ten years ago I didn't enjoy posting on Writers in the Storm much. Who am I kidding? I felt like Joan of Arc being dragged to the fire. But now, I enjoy reading your comments to articles and your responses to other readers' comments. And I enjoy writing back with my own comments. I feel like I personally know many of you from your sharing. And surprising as it is for this introvert to admit, I treasure the community we've built.

Is dealing with social media like a trip to the dentist? Would you rather sit in a math class than sit down to an hour of social media interaction?

ABOUT FAE:

Fae Rowen discovered the romance genre after years as a science fiction freak. Writing futuristics and medieval paranormals, she jokes that she can live anywhere but the present. As a mathematician, she knows life’s a lot more fun when you get to define your world and its rules. P.R.I.S.M., Fae's debut book, a young adult science fiction romance story of survival, betrayal, resolve, deceit, and love is now available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Our Writers in the Storm team chose single guiding words in 2016, and 2017, 2018. Here are our words for 2019.

Fae Rowen

My word for 2019: Plan

2018 slipped away from me. All the projects I'd planned to complete, didn't get done. I didn't "fritter away" my time, I just found other things to do. Things that seemed to matter as much as my writing. I was wrong.

I've never been a proponent of New Year's resolutions. Or goals. Or lists. But I do play chess. In fact, my mother used to talk about how she argued with my father to let me win an occassional game because I cried real tears when I got frustrated with years of loss. My father, a really good player, didn't relent. And now, I thank him for that. He taught me perseverance, attention to detail, and how to plan many steps ahead.

So I'm looking at 2019 like a chess game. Life will make surprise moves. I'll have to counter them and adjust my game plan. I've already made loose "open" plans that give me choices to complete for short term (daily), mid-term (several days), or long term (one-to-two weeks). I've tried out my opening moves for the past couple of days and they worked. Better yet, I feel good about them and what I accomplished.

Horror of horrors, I'm even considering making a list. On paper. I've heard checking it off is quite the dose of positive reinforcement.

Jenny Hansen

My word for 2019: Bravery

Be brave, my friends.

Be brave in your writing. Don't worry about who will read it, or what your mother/brother/co-worker will say. This book of yours is written for an audience of one during the first draft. The next draft can work out any kinks. But if you aren't happy with your book, you will never be brave enough to send it out into the world.

Be brave in your submitting. I have promised two of my books to two people I admire, and they go to them early this year. It's a big deal for me to submit anything, but I shall be brave. :-)

Julie Glover

My word for 2019: Marketing

I know, I know. How could I possibly choose such an unsexy word as marketing to guide my next year of writing! Well, here's the thing: I hate marketing. Or have hated marketing — as in I was the little girl who, tasked with selling fundraising items, did everything she could to avoid selling to anyone who wasn't blood-related and thus beholden to me. Knocking on doors and asking people to buy stuff? You might as well have asked me to be a live voodoo doll and get poked with a hundred pins.

But while I can be a writer without ever marketing, I cannot be a career writer without getting far more comfortable with sales. I've taken steps in that direction, but it's time to embrace the whole experience and get on board with marketing myself and my stories. After all, I believe in the product! So 2019 will involve me learning and practicing marketing approaches to reach potential readers, while remaining true to my desire not to pummel people with sales pitches. Plenty of authors pull that off, so I know it can be done.

Laura Drake

My word for 2019: Enjoy

My first book came out in 2013. 5 years later, I have 10 books out. I'm proud and thankful. But I'm also approaching burnout. I want to recapture the joy of writing just for myself, even as I'm writing for others. While I still have deadlines.

Yeah, impossible goals - they're my superpower. (Making them, not necessarily achieving them).

Now we want to hear from you! What one word will guide your writing life in 2019?

by Laura Drake

I chose this month's submission to help explain how to show a tense scene from within the character, instead of telling - as if we're watching a movie. This scene has the potential to be edge-of-your-seat stuff, but it has several problems.
 
Thank you, brave soul, for trusting me with your work. I hope you find this helpful.
 
Here we go:
 
My edits:
Black = original
Red = my thoughts/comments
Purple = text I added/altered

Original

Tobias Baker drew his fingertips across eyelids that longed for rest while descending in the elevator. He celebrated his tenth anniversary working for the Palmer accounting firm three months ago. His job presented him with endless paperwork during tax season. He lumbered out of the building and over to a kiosk outside of the parking garage. Raychel, his six-year-old daughter, would be expecting a treat, candy or gum. The vendor had gray hair, a toothless smile, and tissue paper wrinkles on weathered brown skin. He was dressed in his customary pair of green coveralls worn thin around the knees. Tobias’ eyes roamed the selection of goodies and landed on a pink package of bubble gum

A rustling noise inside the entrance to the garage caught his attention. Two boys, not more than fifteen, fidgeted in the shadows. He paid for the gum and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. The boys ducked a little deeper inside keeping an eye on him as he approached the garage entrance.

“Hey man,”one of them yelled.

Tobias stopped beside his car. Intuition told him this would not be a good situation.The boys swarmed in on him. One of them was smaller than the other and looked to be younger. His complexion was darker, wore short braids with red beads woven in, and stood slightly behind the taller older boy. Their eyes roamed the room like a puppy cornered in an ally and their bodies twitched and shifted from side to side. The smaller boy repeatedly looked over his shoulder,watching for someone or something. The older boy looked down at his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You got any money, man? We haven’t eaten in a while. Just enough for a burger or something.” His voice was weak, slightly louder than a whisper.

Tobias, a tall man, leaned forward and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

 “Sure. I can help you out.”

 “We hadn’t eaten all day. Man, we’re hungry,” said the younger boy becoming increasingly agitated.

Many people in the community needed money these days. Poverty had become a common problem since the big auto industry moved out several years ago. The older boy leaned in close to Tobias. His warm breath wafted across his face.

“You know...”

The boy reached deep into the pocket of his soiled hoodie. He fumbled with something then shoved it up against Tobias’ chest. Pop! Pop! Tobias could smell the discharge from the gun. His chest burned. Blood pumps rhythmically from two holes directly above his heart.

Do you see how the POV shifts - from within the main character, to almost an omniscient (narrator POV?) I'll point out where in my edits. 

Edits

The elevator descended. Tobias Baker drew his fingertips across eyelids that longed for rest while descending in the elevator. He celebrated his tenth anniversary working for the Palmer accounting firm three months ago. Don't slow the critical beginning with details we don't need.His job presented him with endless paperwork during tax season. He lumbered out of the building and stopped at over to  a kiosk outside of the parking garage. Raychel, his six-year-old daughter, would be expecting a treat, maybe candy or gum. You tell us what he buys, farther down. We can tell by the context she's young. We don't need to know exactly how old yet. The vendor had gray hair, a toothless smile, and tissue paper wrinkles on weathered brown skin.Great description! He was dressed in his customary pair of green coveralls worn thin around the knees. Tobias’ eyes roamed scanned the selection of goodies and landed decided on a pink package of bubble gum.

You only want to sketch bare bones in the beginning - enough to anchor the reader in time, place, and character. Then jump to the tension - that will build reader empathy, and peak interest.

A rustling noise inside the entrance to the garage caught his attention. Two teenage boys, not more than fifteen, fidgeted in the shadows. He paid for the gum, and stuffed it into his shirt pocket, and walked toward the garage entrance. The boys ducked a littledeeper inside inside what? the building? the shadows? keeping an eye on him as he approached the garage entrS

            “Hey man,” one of them yelled.

            Tobias stopped beside his car, senses on alert. See how this shows, instead of telling? Intuition told him this would not be a good situation. The boys swarmed in on him. 'Swarmed sounds menacing to me. What does HE think? A taller, older boy stood in front of a darker one with red beads woven in his hair. One of them was smaller than the other and lookedto be younger. His complexion was darker, wore short braids with red beadswoven in, and stood slightly behind the taller older boy. more important than all this - what expressions are they wearing? Open and sincere? menacing? Their eyes roamed theroom like a puppy cornered in an ally I wouldn't use 'puppy' to describe them - he knows they're a threat. Their bodies twitched, and shifting ed from side to side. The smaller boy repeatedly looked shot looks over his shoulder,watching for someone or something. we know. The older boy looked down at his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets.

            “You got any money, man? We haven’t eaten in a while. Just enough for a burger or something...we haven't eaten in a while.” His voice was weak, only slightly louder than a whisper.

            Tobias, a tall man, leaned forward and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.  Okay, I have several problems with this. telling us he's a tall man isn't his thought. So you've shifted out of third person POV to omniscient - a narrator's voice. But even more important - what is Tobias feeling?  Because he recognized the threat earlier. WHY would he take his wallet out now? Isn't he the least bit concerned? I'd think Van Diesel would be wary in this situation! If you want the reader to follow your character, you have to build a solid basis for why he'd do something so stupid. Was he homeless or hungry as a kid? Does he donate time to work with the homeless? See what I mean?

            “Sure. I can help you out.”

            “We hadn’teaten all day. Man, we’re hungry,” This is all a repeat. I'd have him say something else. said the younger boy becoming increasingly agitated. Instead of telling us he's agitated show us. He's on drugs, right?

            Many people in the community needed money these days. Poverty had become a common problem since the big auto industry moved out several years ago. This is preachy, and not what I'd think he'd be thinking right now. If he has reason NOT to be afraid, explain it here. The older boy leaned in close To Tobias. His warm breath wafting across Tobias' face.

            “You know...” Who says, this, and why? There's not enough here for us to guess.

            The boy reached deep into the pocket of his soiled hoodie. He fumbled with something then shoved it up against Tobias’ chest. Pop! Pop! Tobias could smell the discharge from the gun. His chest burned. Blood pumps rhythmically from two holes directly above his heart.   Okay, if he was shot twice in the heart, he'd be dead almost immediately. No time to smell the discharge. Instead of telling us - put yourself in his situation - what would you feel/see? I'll try to show you:

Pop! Pop! 

His chest exploded in blood-tinged agony. His legs dissolved and his head cracked the concrete. Black spots swarmed from the corners of his vision and the face rimmed with red beads faded...to nothing. 

Okay, that's not good, but see how it's a closer POV?

A witness standing between the kiosk and garage watched the scene unfold and told the police, “The boy didn’t hesitate. Pulled the gun, shot twice. Right in the center of that man’s chest. This is an abrupt, jerky shift of POV - and not even into the bystander, really. And it's repetitious - it doesn't tell us anything new.  I'd end the scene at the high point - Tobias dying. 

What do you think?

Do you ever have problems staying anchored in POV?

Laura's December release, The Last True Cowboy, was chosen by Amazon's Editorial Board as one of the Best Books of the Month!