Your friendly neighborhood storyteller.
Hello, hello! We are due to get back on schedule here in a minute. Upcoming, the next in the Hintlord series will be on characters who are not you, and how to craft them! A request from a regular reader! So look forward to that. But before that:
Click here to read my new story over at Crack the Spine.
Impossibly Tender by yours truly is about a man who negotiates fatherhood in the worst possible way. :)
There’s a couple milestones for me when I’m on a new project.
50 pages - a testing of the waters. Does this idea suck giant monkey dick? Well, you’ll know it within fifty pages, trust me. Some things just won’t be able to be smoothed out or over and if things don’t work out, best to cut the losses. But if I do make it here and feel strongly or stronger, that’s a good sign to keep going. Around this spot is when the world of the story starts opening up, I can see my way forward and realize some things I did wrong in the beginning.
100 pages - woo! A real save point if there is one. Now I’m really into it and trying desperately to keep momentum going. If I were to stop here, for any amount of time, it would probably go downhill like if I stopped rolling a boulder up a mountain and tried to take a breather. Just got to push.
Right now I’m on that second milestone. My new project is breathing steadily and I’m working everyday with a minimum word count of 2k. See, here’s the thing.
I was talking to a budding young writer yesterday and she asked me how I draft, as she was having trouble managing drafting one chap at a time. I don’t know how they do it elsewhere and, to be honest, I don’t care. Don’t edit chapter by chapter, you’ll be driven insane. It sounds like a lot of work.
As I told her, I write out the whole first draft, ugly bumps and plot holes and all and I really don’t care how bad it is. Everything comes out in the wash. The first big edit, I start from the top and smooth out plot holes, missing scenes, all the big stuff. When that’s done, the third paving is for texture and smaller faux pas. When I say how many times I tend to go over things, it sounds like a lot of work but it’s waaaay less work than attacking it piecemeal.
The best part about considering the manuscript in save points and drafts is that it’s like standing at the summit, surveying the mountain trail you just climbed. There’s a clarity about it. Next save point is at 150 pages. See you there.
I wrote more when I knew fewer writers. That’s just the truth of it.
I’m not saying that knowing writers or communicating with them is bad (well, I am kinda saying that but) but for me personally it makes me forget why I even started writing in the first place. Because it sure as hell wasn’t so some jumped-up MFA grad boy can shout “CRAFT!” at me every two seconds, or even so I could edit other peoples’ work or even to give talks on writing at all. I’ve touched on it before, but the only reason I ever picked up a laptop was to harass people. That’s the point, that’s the juicy spot. If I’m not harassing anyone, then the goodness of writing is lost on me.
Florida nostalgia from my recent trip down south.
All this to say that knowing writers and being around them overmuch drains the point. Because really, the common man is where it’s at. The guy who couldn’t tell first person plural from third person omni is the guy I wanna talk to about my writing.
“Tell me, Common Man, why isn’t my plot working? What’s going on with this character?” I ask him over a steaming plate of fries at Steak n Shake.
And Common Man will sniff it out every time, more reliable than a trained hog after truffles, and more straightforward than Craft McSentence Level on why he should be up for a Pulitzer. I miss my friend, Common Man. I don’t know him any more.
Back when I was in undergrad, when I was the DEFINITION of prolific, Common Man was my constant companion. That’s not to say Common Man was never knowledgeable in his own field—he could be a biologist or a waiter or a hostess or just a soon-to-be college drop out. He saw my blind spots. He sees yours too. He may not know what to call it, but I could always count on him to do a better job in talking light and straight than the average writer.
And I look on Twitter and cringe sometimes. I see these hashtags and this fucking DISCOURSE. Why the fuck do we have to have discourse? What does it have to do with writing? With storytelling? The writer’s head is so far up their own ass that they NEED Common Man to pull them out again, to gently wipe the shit from their eyes.
I remember going to Waffle House at 1 AM and looking at Common Man over coffee and pecan waffles.
“So, what’d you think of the story?” I asked him.
“The main character’s trying to fuck his friends.” Common Man inhaled a sausage link. “Sounds gay to me.”
“Yes, you’re right,” I said, tears in my eyes. “You’re so right.”
I love him. I miss him. I’m fairly lost without him.
Look. I’m gonna make this short and sweet. I’m currently on each side of the submission game: writer and editor, so I get that every time you send something out there’s this ITCH to tell the faceless noodnik on the other side of the screen that yes, this is the piece you’ve been waiting for, and no, you’ve never seen fiction/poetry/nonfiction like THIS before. Like, I get it. But submitting is like dating. Don’t put your heart in the game and fuck everyone you can, raw.
Here’s some rules of thumb from your friendly neighborhood pervert:
Don’ts:
Don’t tell me your life story. Cute facts in your bio is one thing but I don’t need to know your 3rd grade teacher thought you were a Stephen King in the making.
Unless the mag specifies to give a summary of the story, don’t give one. You’re gonna make the story sound boring.
DON’T TELL ME YOUR AGE. Seriously, this will never go well for you! If you’re 15, I’m gonna be like, “Welp, this is gonna go great.” And if you say you’re 95, I’ll probably be looking out for slurs.
Don’t brag about how you’ve edited your piece to perfection because WHEN I find a typo, hoo boy.
Don’t say anything controversial in your cover letter. Come on, man, you have no idea who’s reading this, and if you paid money to submit, you’re wasting it by pissing people off. If you didn’t pay, I guess, then whatever.
Don’t try and shame editors into publishing you because you’ve had a rough life. Seriously, what the fuck.
Dos:
Open your cover letter with the editor’s name! It makes us pay attention at least a little more!
Tell us your story’s word count, name, and if it’s out on submission with other places. This is standard but sometimes people just leave that out in lieu of telling us their cat’s name.
KEEP IT BRIEF. I’m not gonna read a two page cover letter anyway so you’re wasting your air.
ACTUALLY WRITE A COVER LETTER. Don’t just send shit with no preface, that’s rude!
Include your website, previous publications, etc. Hell, couldn’t hurt, right? Unless you’ve linked to questionable porn. Plus, if you don’t plug yourself, no one else will.
Include contact info!
For your pleasure, I’ve included a template that I’ve made and always use! I get rejections just like everyone else, but I also get acceptances, so it can’t be too awful, right?
Dear [editor],
My short story, [TITLE], is complete at [X] words for your consideration. I have most recently appeared in [PUBLICATIONS]. This is a simultaneous submission.
Thank you for your consideration.
Robyn Ritchierobynritchie.com
[CONTACT INFO]
Nice and painless. Try out these tips!
Also, a short story of mine is forthcoming in Crack the Spine so be on the look out!
Here’s a secret about yours truly: I’m kind of a shy writer. Not like the “No, I can’t bear for anyone to look at my work!” way but more the “Maybe other writers won’t like me so I’ll just kinda sit over here,” way. I’m a lurker. I’m a creepy perverted lurker and I’m in your forums, judging you and keeping myself out of it. So I’ve been creeping and lurking, as I do, and the thing that really has come to my attention is this new obsession with redeemable characters.
More secrets about me.
Ugh. And who knows if it really is a new obsession; it could be I’m just behind the times which happens more often that I’d care to admit. But I’m seeing this from people who don’t write a lot, like maybe they only do it at Nano or they’re working on their first stab at a book or something like that. They seem to get caught up in asking people, “Is this character still redeemable?”
And people (of the same type) have the nerve to tell them, “No!”
No?!
Okay, first of all, I’ve seen this asked about the villain, which, if you want your villain to pal up with the hero at the end after many a hardship and battle (channeling Pokemon, I suppose) then… okay, that can be hot too, I guess, but then these aren’t typically the villains/rivals who are mass murdering people or setting off on raping sprees or hurting animals. Typically they steal something or like, I dunno, call the hero a naughty name.
Villains, real villains, don’t need to be redeemed. The best book villains I can think of off the top of my head: King Haggard, Humbert Humbert, Patrick Bateman, Leland Gaunt, Annie Wilkes, none of them needed redeeming to be satisfying, and two of those are also protagonists and this brings me to my next point!
If you’re asking if your protagonist is redeemable, this tells me two things:
Your protagonist has done maybe some bad things while also trying to make his way in the world and get what he wants in the novel, which makes him cool and hopefully well-rounded and go you, babe, go you.
But you’re trying to nuke him by possibly watering him down the first time some person who may not even be your prospective audience tosses a bitch fit.
(Sidenote: Yes, your prospective audience matters. Your stories are not for everyone. Mine certainly are not. Nor should they be. When you pick people to look at your story for mishaps and pink gaping holes, you have to pick someone who’s aesthetic lines up at least a bit with your own or else they might tell you to lose necessary parts for the story you want to tell. At the end of the day, who are you telling this story for? Who are you telling it to?)
So, your protagonist has done some nasty shit, but haven’t we all? Haven’t the people who’re looking down their noses at your protag in the forums? But, okay, for the sake of exploration, let’s give this some leeway.
Your character is irredeemable.
To who?
There’s only two answers; he could either be deemed irredeemable by the characters in his story or by the reader. If it’s the characters, that sounds like it has branches. His best friend can’t forgive him for fucking his grandmother? For quitting his job, ditching responsibilities just as the economy collapses, and joining a tribe in Papua New Guinea? For stealing his winning lottery ticket? Sounds good to me. Then if you want them to fix their friendship by the end, how does he make up for being a colossal douche? Or if you want them to go separate ways and live to be terrorized by the memory of what happened, that’s great too. You could do almost anything with characters who can’t or won’t forgive or want to forgive but don’t really know how.
If he can’t be redeemed by the reader… uh. SO?!
I mean really, who gives a fuck? As long as the reader is entertained and moved in some way, who cares if it doesn’t fall into this hippy-dippy we-are-the-world redeemable and everyone lives happily ever after schlock? I’ve had it! Officially!
…
Zen.
Okay, okay, okay. Look, here’s the thing. I just get so worried. In a forum the other day, I saw a girl describe her main character, and he was a total dick. He was a blond twink dick who thought the world owed him everything and was a bit ditsy to boot. And that sounded magnificent. I was literally salivating. But then you have these people popping up who are literally just random assholes telling her, “I dunno, he may be too unlikable.” Or, “Well, okay, but how’s he going to be redeemed at the end?” Filling this young girl’s head with NONSENSE.
And I wished I could take her aside and tell her her story is good and her character is boss and as long as she writes well, as long as each sentence makes me want to read the next, and as long as her blond dick of a protagonist fights like hell to get whatever his spoiled little heart desires, then those people in the forums can redeem this dick.
So I just joined Sundog Lit as an Assistant Fiction Editor and boy are my arms tired.
I’m kidding, but it’s been really fun so far! And I don’t even like work. I’ve been part of a magazine before, but a smaller one, when I was in my early twenties, as a reader. Back then Submittable was still Submishmash (a way better name, by the way) and things looked a lot different.
Readjusting to an editor mindset takes me right back to Emerson and grad school because I haven’t really looked at anyone else’s fiction with an eye towards YES or NO since then. And of course, I wasn’t rejecting my fellow students’ work for anything, I was just in my head reading and like, “That’s a choice.”
I’m actually living right now, getting to be immersed in writerly things because I had divorced myself from them for a good half a year this year due to depression, anxiety, hiding in other activities like drawing and binge-watching and generally being very potatolike. But if I keep this energy up, working like I’m in the cotton fields over my own novel, editing for the magazine, continuing to interact with the few writer friends I have AND also continuing my yoga teacher training, I feel like I can rock climb my way out of impending mental doom. And there is ALWAYS impending mental doom.
So if you’re a writer and you dabble in fiction, come submit! Even if your thing isn’t fiction, we also accept poetry and nonfiction as well, so try your luck before Dec. 31st, babe.
I wonder where she went? you ask yourself, staring up at the cloudless sky of a new November. At that exact moment, your phone trills—and there it is, the familiar sight of my icon blowing up your Insta, your Twitter, your various online havens. I have arisen from the grave and I smell just as bad as I should.
Read More