Showing posts with label revision. Show all posts
Showing posts with label revision. Show all posts
Friday, May 22, 2015
Heckuva week: A new #kidlit blogging gig and 3 story sales!
It's been a crazy few days. And I mean crazy in a good way (for once). Here's the scoop:
1. I've been named the first-ever Children's Lit columnist for a wonderful website called Eat Sleep Write.
2. Dreaming Robot Press will publish my middle-grade sci-fi story "Leafheart" in the 2016 Young Explorer's Adventure Guide. I'm especially pleased about this, both because I was also in the 2015 edition, and because the folks at Dreaming Robot are outspoken advocates of diversity in kidlit.
3. Urban Fantasy Magazine will publish my weird, funny tale called "The Duchess of Fitzrovia," which I wrote a couple of years ago during a trip to London.
4. Strange Musings Press will publish my story "Motherlode" in the anthology Alternate Hilarities 2: Weirder Science. If you're a fan of my Webrid books, you'll enjoy the style of this space mining caper.
Items 2 and 3 are made especially sweet because both were revisions requested by the respective editors. This maintains a stat of which I am exceptionally proud: I have a 100% acceptance rate on stories I've been asked to revise. That's a darn good skill to have in this biz.
Labels:
acceptance,
anthologies,
blogging,
Eat Sleep Write,
good news,
revision,
submissions
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Fantasy writer Gail Z. Martin shares her secrets for getting a book written
Writing is a very personal activity, and we each do it in our own, idiosyncratic way. My guest this week is fantasy author Gail Z. Martin, whose newest book, Ice Forged: Book One in the Ascendant Kingdoms Saga (Orbit Books), launched in January 2013. Gail is also the author of the Chronicles of the Necromancer series (Solaris Books) and The Fallen Kings Cycle (Orbit Books). Here she offers some candid thoughts about how she writes.
* * *
A Method to the Madness
Anne asked me to write about my process for writing.
Which made me stop and think: Do I have a
process? And if I do, can I explain it?
Here’s where I wish I could launch into a detailed
explanation of my very cool, very “literary” (you have to say that word with a
bit of a British accent and separate the syllables so it sounds very upper
crust) process of wandering through the woods, listening to classical music and
reading philosophy.
Ah, yes. Ahem. Except that I don’t really work that way.
Well, sometimes I listen to classical music.
The reality goes more like this. I get an idea. I noodle on the idea while I walk the dogs
and do the dishes and drive in traffic.
The idea expands. I write an
outline, which tends to make my agent and editor very happy.
I noodle on the outline and revise it. I start
writing, and visualize the scene, so when I’m typing, I’m just transcribing the
“movie” I see on the inside of my eyelids.
I keep on going this way, asking, “and then what?” and typing away,
often with a glazed look on my face.
Family members complain that they can walk in front of me, speak to me,
wave their hands and jump up and down and I don’t notice. (This used to freak out my college roommates.)
This is especially true when I’m working on
something new, like my new book Ice Forged, the first book in a brand new
series. It took a lot of noodling to get
to the point where I was clear on where I was going in a whole new world!
I start out each day reading what I wrote the day
before and making minor tweaks. I ignore the outline until I get stuck. Then I dig it out and noodle on it some
more. I print out the first hundred or
so pages and read over them, which usually gets me unstuck. Every couple hundred pages, I’ll read from
start to end point, which generates ideas, identifies continuity errors and
reassures me that the project is actually turning out well.
Once I reach the end of the first draft, I’ll print
it, read it, and mark it up. Then I give
it to my husband, who goes over it again and marks it up some more. Next, I’ll sit down at the computer and make
all the changes, then print it out again and start the reading/mark-up process. We’ll do this seven or eight times.
Then I’ll turn it in, my editor will read it over
and mark it up, and send it back. I’ll
revise. Then the copy editor will do the
same thing. And I’ll revise. Finished!
Every writer I talk to has a different process. Some write in absolute silence, while others
need to be in the middle of a busy coffee shop to focus. Some never read anything they’ve written
until the end, others second-guess themselves at nearly every paragraph. Some writers share their work-in-progress
with a writing group or their beta readers. And judging by the acknowledgements in the
front of many books, some writers consult a huge team of experts, researchers
and supporters in the process of birthing their book.
So how do YOU write?
There’s no right or wrong—it’s whatever works for you and produces a
good outcome. Does your writing process
make you happy, or increase your stress?
Does it improve your productivity or slow you down? The good news is, if your writing process
isn’t working for you, there are lots of other processes you can try on for
size until you find the combination that is perfect for you.
* * *
For more about Gail’s books and
short stories, visit her website. She's on Twitter @GailZMartin.
Read an excerpt from Ice Forged here. Purchase Ice Forged at Amazon, BN, and many other sites.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Revision Vision
Today I'll finish proofreading revisions that my editor requested for my science fiction novel, Green Light Delivery. Doing these revisions has been a fascinating experience, and the first time I've revised a novel under editorial instructions, rather than in the pre-submission stage.
The editor asked me to flesh out a character who doesn't actually show up until the end, yet on whom the story hinges. Therefore, although the bulk of my changes were in the last fifth of the novel, I needed to prepare the reader better to meet this character by leaving hints and stepping stones throughout the earlier chapters.
At first I worried that inserting and changing elements all the way through would be like wiggling bolts and nails in a building structure: it could make everything fall down. But instead, it made me rethink every sentence with this new purpose in mind and make changes that shored up and strengthened the work overall.
At least I hope it did! Currently I'm at that stage where I've stared at it so long that it all looks ridiculous.
How do you feel about the process of novel-revision?
The editor asked me to flesh out a character who doesn't actually show up until the end, yet on whom the story hinges. Therefore, although the bulk of my changes were in the last fifth of the novel, I needed to prepare the reader better to meet this character by leaving hints and stepping stones throughout the earlier chapters.
At first I worried that inserting and changing elements all the way through would be like wiggling bolts and nails in a building structure: it could make everything fall down. But instead, it made me rethink every sentence with this new purpose in mind and make changes that shored up and strengthened the work overall.
At least I hope it did! Currently I'm at that stage where I've stared at it so long that it all looks ridiculous.
How do you feel about the process of novel-revision?
Monday, August 9, 2010
Tripping Over the First Step
I'm beginning to understand why, once he's completed a novel, Richard Peck summarily tosses out his first chapter and rewrites it. I'm at that stage of revision now, and find that my first chapter does not have the strength to support the rest of the story.
I don't seem to have the nerve to throw the entire opening chapter in the trash, but I'm very willing to do some serious surgery on it. Here's hoping the bone structure will hold the new shape.
I don't seem to have the nerve to throw the entire opening chapter in the trash, but I'm very willing to do some serious surgery on it. Here's hoping the bone structure will hold the new shape.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Try, Try Again, Then Stop for a While
I have a personal rule that, after five rejections, a piece should be shelved. That doesn't mean it will never see the light of day, but it does indicate to me that something is fundamentally wrong with the work and will need rethinking after it's lain fallow for a time. I find (to my surprise) that I'm not too proud to do a gut-renovation on a story.
The number five is arbitrary, but has felt right so far. By five rejections, I've usually figured out what's wrong, if not exactly how to repair it, thanks to my own contemplation and the comments of editors when I'm lucky enough to get any.
I may be making an exception soon, however, to the rule of five. One story that's been making the rounds keeps coming back with reactions along the lines of, "We really enjoyed your story. Good luck publishing it elsewhere." Everyone likes it, so I can't imagine how to fix it.
The number five is arbitrary, but has felt right so far. By five rejections, I've usually figured out what's wrong, if not exactly how to repair it, thanks to my own contemplation and the comments of editors when I'm lucky enough to get any.
I may be making an exception soon, however, to the rule of five. One story that's been making the rounds keeps coming back with reactions along the lines of, "We really enjoyed your story. Good luck publishing it elsewhere." Everyone likes it, so I can't imagine how to fix it.
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