First Draft Feedback, & What I Learned

I finished my first draft in early March, and sent it to several friends and fellow writers for comments. I wanted some feedback before plunging into the rewrite.

I had some big picture questions—i.e., is this part explained enough? Do I need to show more of that?—and got some useful suggestions, and mostly positive appraisals.

I told people, “Don’t think about being kind. Kind is when everyone gets a medal just for showing up. If something sucks, tell me.”

Then I got a response from a good friend and writer. Her opening:

I’m going to be honest with you — it reads like a TV writer. It took me YEARS… to lose my obvious TV writing chops. Your writing is crisp, clean, factual. You lay it all out requiring as few words as possible. It’s apparent from the opening sentence. You are more focused on the setting, the plot and the tricks than you are on your character.

Ouch! The adage, ‘be careful what you wish for,’ came to mind. After feeling sorry for myself for a day or so, I began to take a good look at what I’d written. She was right. I was so eager to plunge into the events of my story, I’d forgotten about getting into the head of Alex, my main character.

She had recommended a couple of YA authors to look at, so I read their books (FYI, Rogue, by Lynn Miller-Lachman, & Everybody Sees the Ants, by A.S. King).

Ouch! More feeling sorry for myself. These were so good, I despaired of ever even approaching such excellent quality.

It took me another day or so to realize where I’d gone off the track: to familiarize myself with current Young Adult fiction, I’d been reading whatever was cheap or free online (I had a free trial subscription to a book club, and my Amazon Prime account provides 3 at a time).

The books & my friend’s comments were a wake-up call. I’d been lazy, falling back on stuff I already knew how to do well, and quickly. The Story Store is going to be better than that.

The moral is, if you want to write crap, read crap. if you want to write better, read better.

I’ll let you know how the 2nd draft is going.

Outline or no outline, part three

After a long absence (almost a month), here’s the last bit on outlining.

As I mentioned, I’m determined to have an outline before I start writing “When We Dream…” That doesn’t mean that I won’t write scenes, events, chapters, character biographies – another topic for here, maybe! – while I’m outlining.

I think that, with most or all writers, it’s would be impossible NOT to jump between parts of a project. Many writers, myself included, jump between projects all the time. If I get stuck on one, I can turn to the other.

But I feel like I spent too much time writing things that aren’t going to be in the final draft, the one that goes out to agents and publishers. A scene came to mind, it seemed like a cool idea, so I wrote it, not knowing where or even if it would fit into the story.

Sometimes that worked, often it didn’t. My first draft suffers now from a kind of uneven progression in the “rising action” part of Freytag’s Pyramid,

Freytag's Pyramid

which you can learn about in college drama class or here. A few friends have pointed this out, and I’m addressing it in my revision.

Something about the innate human need for stories includes (I think) the need for suspense, complications, and reversals to build as the story progresses. Writing in out-of-order chunks can undercut that. Sure it’s easy to fix: I moved some chunks around and cut others. But I think it’ll be easier to get the story in order first.

I’ll let you know how that goes.

Outline or no outline, Part Two

Here’s the “weird reason” I wound up writing The Story Store without outlining. To begin with, the title came to me in a dream.

In my dream, I was sitting across a desk from Mindy Kaling (The Mindy Project) in what I guess was her office. She put down a script of mine she was reading, turned to me and said, “This is pretty good. Did you write it?”

I got all snippy and replied, “No. I got it from the Story Store.”

Many people don’t know this: a question writers are often asked, is, “where do you get your ideas?” Writers sometimes answer, “why, where everyone else gets them. The Story Store,” or “the writers store,” “the idea shop,” or somewhere similar. It’s a gag, not a real place.

Still half-asleep, the story of The Story Store started to fill my head. I got up and wrote fifteen pages of notes. The next day, I wrote more notes. Alex, my main character, popped up in my head as if he’s always been there. Sara, Mr. Crumley, and Benedict the writer, they all just came to me, like unexpected but welcome guests.

I couldn’t NOT start writing it.

Still, it felt like driving at night with no headlights. I got nervous, especially on days when I couldn’t think of what to write next. I wrote endless notes, started two or three outlines, created timelines for my characters, and made lists of events as I thought of them.

Nothing worked.

Lacking an order for my events, I often wound up writing a scene, or several scenes, as separate documents. It was like designing my own jigsaw puzzle, but without having the complete picture. I’d decide where they were supposed to fit in later.

Some of them fit into the Recycle Bin.

But, in the end, I had a book, and a lot of outtakes for the director’s cut. And 35,000 words of notes.

The book I’ve started writing now – working title, “When We Dream, Where Do We Go?” – is beginning life as an outline. I’ll see how it goes.

Outline or no Outline?

Here’s what I know about outlines:

In television writing, I learned that outlines were a must. The episodes had to fit into a one hour or one half hour time slot, which meant about 49 minutes or 22 minutes of show exactly (It more like 44 or 18 minutes today).

The story editor or producer needs to know if the story you pitched that sounded so wonderful was actually going to work as an episode: you know, the three-act structure, beginning, middle, end, a cliffhanger act ending to bring your audience back after the commercials.

There is no way to tell if your story is going to fit without an outline that describes the “beats,” or events in each act. If one event in, say three of Act II is “the rebels destroy the Death Star,” it ain’t gonna fit.

Less obvious are things like, do your characters act and speak (outlines include a few dialog snippets) as they do in other episodes? Is there a main story–the “A” story–and a “B” story?

So, I always wrote an outline. As a story editor, I always read outlines carefully for the things that would tell me if a story was going to work or not.

The financial end of things is: if a story doesn’t work, the writer is “cut off at outline,” which means he doesn’t see the big payday that comes when he hands in the script. Saves the budget for stories that do work.

Writing non-fiction books, an outline was essential. The publishers want to see chapters and an outline. My books with Ted Pedersen were all method books: how to do stuff on the internet. They had to be simple, step-by-step descriptions of what to do first, second, third.

My solo book, The Rosenberg Espionage Case, (in the Famous Trials series) was history. First this happened, then this happened. While this was going on here, this was happening over there. Outline a necessity.

Despite my very long experience in writing an outline, for some weird reason, I decided to write ‘The Story Store,’ my first (not-yet-published) novel, without an outline.

I’ll tell you how that worked next time.

What To Do When the Well Runs Dry

If writing were easy, everyone would be doing it. So, even though it’s like working out at the gym or running (the more you do it, the more you can do), each day can be a new challenge, a new test of your commitment and skills.

Some days it just ain’t happening. You get up early (or whenever your writing time is—did I mention you need to have a regular time to write?), sit down, crank up the computer, and… nothing. You’re tempted to Facebook, read email, clean your desk.
Resist the temptation.
Write. Write something else.
if you’ve hit a dry spell in your current novel, start making notes on your next one. More than once, I’ve found that writing down ideas for my next book (working title: “The Dreamers”) somehow, magically, generates ideas for my current one. Even if that doesn’t happen, you’re not wasting your valuable, never-to-be-retrieved, writing time. You’re creating not just a book (or poem, or short story or screenplay), you’re creating a career.
Too many would-be writers I’ve met pour their hearts and souls into their one project, then, if they finish it, spend all their time trying to get it read and published. It’s as if they only have one idea, and they’re stuck on it.
That’s not how you create a writing career.
Sometimes I feel like making notes, or even writing a chapter in my “next” book is just a way of putting off writing my current one. I worry that I’ve run out of ideas. Maybe yes, maybe no. What I do know is, writing is better than pissing away time not writing.

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