12. Tools

A poor workman may always blame his tools, but a good workman always makes sure he has the right tools for the job. I mentioned in the third post, Plotting out a Story, the character tool I use. Perhaps you might be interested in knowing a little more about tools.

Perhaps of course, you won’t. For some writers, the idea of tools is anathema. If you follow a format, they might say with some justification, the writing will become mechanical – it will impede creativity. Such writers enjoy the roller-coaster ride, hanging on for dear life as their characters and their subconscious lead them through a winding plot.

The counter-argument would be that if you’re not sure where your story is going, or who your characters are, you can spend months writing a 100,000 word first draft that doesn’t hang together, and lacks continuity. It’s worth remembering that, since millions of whatever currency they work in are at stake, screenwriters and film directors never trust their work to whims of the Muse, and to the vagaries of their memories.

There’s absolutely no reason why you should use any tools at all, but, if you don’t, be prepared for some pretty savage editing after your first draft.

So let me talk about tools. I said in an earlier post that, for me, the elements of good story-telling are the plot, the characters, and the quality of the writing. I’ve already written about the tool I use to keep track of my character, so let me talk about plot. Perhaps in a later post I’ll talk about tools that can help good writing.

There are lots of theories about what makes a good plot structure. A story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. After a set-up, tension should rise to a climax and then be resolved. This is the basis for the Three Act Structure, much used in screen-writing. The first act sets the scene, introduces the protagonist, and contains the inciting incident, which drives the rest of the plot. The inciting incident poses a problem. The screenwriter, Michael Hauge in his book Writing Screenplays that Sell, says there are five possible goals that flow from the set-up:

  • To escape
  • To stop something from happening
  • To deliver something of value to where it’s needed
  • To retrieve something of value and return it to the right people or place
  • To win something (a contest, love, respect etc.)

The second act, is one of rising tension as the protagonist struggles to solve the problem posed by the inciting incident. In this, he or she is usually added by others, and foiled by an antagonist. Conflict is an essential part of tension. The author, Randy Ingermanson, creator of the Snowflake writing method (http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/articles/snowflake-method/), is a great believer in combining disaster with the Three Act Structure. He believes in a “three-disasters-plus-an-ending” structure, with the first disaster at the end of Act 1, the second in the middle of Act 2, and the third at the end of Act 2. You can buy his tool as software, but you can just as easily create it yourself on a spreadsheet.

The third act, the ending, provides the resolution to the problem.

This, of course, is only one way of thinking about plot. Joseph Campbell, in his book, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, said that all stories were variants of one “mono-myth”. George Lucas followed Campbell’s recipe in the making of Star Wars, and there is another writing method that is built on this basis – the Agile Method (http://agilewriters.com). I used my own variant of the Agile formula for the book I’m working on now, The Golden Illusion. Just to see what would happen, I plotted the story arc into four phases:

  • Set-up
  • Discovery and growth
  • Decline and despair
  • Climax and dénouement

It worked pretty well for keeping track of the story, though it escaped the boxes in every direction. You’ll notice this structure only gives me one major disaster, where the Snowflake method advocates three. The protagonist was thwarted in his drive to the goal, and lost his girlfriend and best friend into the bargain. But there were, of course, other minor setbacks as well as triumphs on the way there.

Other people disagree vehemently with Campbell’s mono-myth idea. Critics have argued, for example, that he was oblivious to the stories women tell. As I mentioned above, Michael Hauge believes there are five basic stories. Christopher Booker, influenced by Jung’s psychology, believed there were seven basic stories. Vladimir Propp analysed Russian fairy tales, and claimed to have identified 31 different plots, while Georges Polti advocated for 36 fundamental dramatic situations. You pays your money and you takes your choice.

However you design your plot. It helps to plan (or at least record as you write) the essential elements. You need something that will keep track of your timeline, so you don’t get jumps in sequence, or time of day, or sequence. You need something to keep track of where the action is going – particularly if you have several threads interwoven in your story. This is my master story-board template for The Golden Illusion

storyboard

I took out the details, so there are no spoilers when the book finally, if ever, sees the light of day. But, you can see the grid is divided horizontally into the four elements of the arc, with an associated time-line, and vertically into the main plot, and the three sub-threads (A, B, and C). These sub-threads were: the protagonist’s search for the secret of an ancient Egyptian magic trick, which he believes will be a “Golden Illusion” that will make his fortune; the unfolding story of a group of nineteenth century villagers that seems to be connected to the Golden Illusion; and the protagonist’s problem in emotional commitment. There is also a column for characters, so the main events that happen to each character can be tracked.

For my next book, the sequel to A Prize of Sovereigns, I have modified this template and added two new elements. The first is a summary of the whole book. There are two summaries: a one sentence summary, which is the pre-cursor of the elevator pitch (see post 4: After the writing is over – publishing), and a one-paragraph elaboration of the elevator pitch. Previously I have written these only when the book was finished, but Randy Ingermanson advocates doing this at the beginning in his Snowflake method, so I thought I’d give it a try. At least I now know exactly what the book is about, and am half way to the pitch and synopsis. The second new element is a scene list, again a suggestion from Ingermanson, with a one sentence description of each scene.

I have used a version of scene lists before. In the past, I’ve written one paragraph summaries of each chapter, but only after I’d drafted the chapter. This made it easier to keep track of where I had got to if there was a break in writing, as well as vastly simplifying the writing of the synopsis. What is new this time is that I’ll write the scene descriptions before I draft. I’m curious to see how that works out. In theory, it should make writing the first draft much quicker.

11. Some more encouraging numbers

Twelve wasn’t a great number, but I got some more encouraging numbers today. Today I asked for viewing figures on the serialisation of A Prize of Sovereigns. The first four chapters have appeared now, with the fifth due out tomorrow. There have been 262 unique views in the month since the first chapter was published. Which is still not 20 million, but it’s not unrespectable. The publishers seem pleased.

I haven’t said much about A Prize of Sovereigns yet. Which is remiss of me, since a major point of writing a blog is to promote my writing. One of the promotional pieces I wrote for it runs like this.

War is coming to the kingdoms of Ceweth and Lorrador. Byrom, King of Ceweth, is a bad man. But he hopes to be a good king. Aurthur of Lorrador is a thoroughly nice man, but a weak prince. The fate of both realms depends on the decisions they make. Told from multiple viewpoints of princes and peasants, statesmen and storytellers this is a tale of intrigue, betrayal, war, and revolt. As the story develops, it assumes a strange familiarity; in the end, it is our own, and asks the eternal question: what does it mean to be a good person?

I wrote it to explore that question about goodness, and once I had decided to locate it in a medieval setting, I began to add elements. I was in the middle of reading George RR Martin’s Game of Thrones series then. I loved the story, and the way he used what he calls “historical mash-up”. I adopted “historical mash-up” with glee. I created the main aristocratic characters by amalgamating several real people. I created the events of the war between Ceweth and Lorrador out of real events in the Hundred Years War between England and France, but not necessarily in the precise sequence in which they really happened. Unlike Martin though, I was interested in exploring the strategies rulers employ, and how they may have unintended consequences. And, also unlike Martin, I wanted to explore what ordinary people felt. The ordinary people, called smallfolk in Game of Thrones, barely appear. I guess you could say I wrote the Game of Thrones I would have liked to have read. Or you might say, A Prize of Sovereigns is George RR Martin meets Ken Follett.

Actually, that’s not bad. I might use that line with the next agent I talk to.

10. Social media – 19,999,988 to go

I guess the one major thing in a writer’s bag of tricks I haven’t commented on yet is the use of social media. These days, every author needs a blog, a Goodreads account, a Facebook page, and a Twitter account to network with readers and build a following. It’s not that I don’t do these things, or some of them, it’s that I’m not very good at it yet.

Take this blog for example. I started it on May 17, 2015. It’s not a unique idea, but it seemed there ought to be quite a lot of interest in how a tyro writer negotiates his way into publication (or not, of course). So I’ve posted away for two weeks, and waited for the world to come to me. But of course they haven’t. I don’t mean you, you’re reading this. I mean all the others. It has been viewed 90 times, by 30 distinct visitors – 82 of the views were from the UK, and 5 from the US; the other 3 were untraceable. I have 3 followers, 5 likes, and only one view led to a click through to my book.

Early days, I tell myself. I’ve mailed all my friends in my writing groups. Now I need to work my other networks. An author needs, as I said, several online networks. Facebook and Twitter are the big ones. I still don’t have a Facebook account, I’m not sure why. I will one day. Two weeks ago, I didn’t have a blog. I do have a Twitter account, but I never tweet. I’m verbose. I can’t think why I’d want to express myself in 140 characters or less. So that’s why I started to blog instead.

There are some other key social networking sites that authors should know about. And I’m on them. Goodreads (https://www.goodreads.com) is probably the most important. Goodreads is the world’s largest site for readers and book recommendations. I’m not sure how many members it has. It reported 20 million in 2013. So you can potentially connect with over 20 million readers. Of course I don’t.

I have four friends, four people have liked book reviews I’ve posted, and four people have added my book to their lists and two people rated it. That’s not too many out of 20 million. Yesterday I only had three friends. I made the fourth one by joining a couple of Goodreads groups. This is going to be harder than I thought, but I seem to be on the right track. Of course you don’t just join Goodreads (or any other social networking site) and say “hey guys, you need to read my book, it’s awesome.” Nobody appreciates being marketed at like that. You get respect by being a member of the community, posting reviews of books and joining in discussions.

The other site I joined is Wattpad (http://www.wattpad.com). It’s basically a site where writers can connect with readers who want to read free stuff. There are stories of authors having their work ripped off from there, but nothing more than rumours. I posted the first three chapters of A Prize of Sovereigns there, and then provided a link to the site where it’s being serialised. I’ve got 4 followers, 7 people who rated it, and 6 who left comments.

Apart from the Facebook page, I’ve got a presence on the right social networking sites. You should probably get all of those. So, I’ve got three followers for this blog, four followers on Wattpad, and four Goodreads friends – 12 down 19,999.988 to go.

9. Lying to your readers

Should you ever lie to your reader? Yes, of course. All the time. That’s what a plot twist is – you lead your readers’ expectations down one path, and then flip them. The mechanism is somewhat similar to a joke, which also leads the hearer down one path only to flip it. The physiological response to a joke is the explosive outbreath we call laughter.

sex

Especially with short stories laughter is often our response to a good plot twist.

There are some standard devices for doing this. The most obvious is the Red Herring, and the closely-related McGuffin. Detective stories are full of red-herrings, clues that seem to lead to the solution but are in fact illusory or mistaken. The term “McGuffin” I think originated with Alfred Hitchcock. A McGuffin is a plot device, some object, person or goal that the protagonist pursues. The McGuffin is often illusory or recedes into the background in the course of the story.

The book I’m currently working on, The Golden Illusion, has the protagonist, a stage illusionist, chasing the secret of a 4,000-year-old illusion performed by the Egyptian magician, Djedi, for the Pharaoh Kufu. It is a McGuffin. I’m still struggling with making the real ending, as spectacular as Djedi’s decapitation and re-animation trick.

Other common devices where you lie to your readers are the False Protagonist and the Unreliable Narrator.

The False Protagonist works by leading the reader to believe that a character is the protagonist of the story. This character then vanishes, often by being killed. This has huge shock value. George R R Martin used it to great effect in Game of Thrones by killing Ned Stark at the end of the first book of the series.

The Unreliable Narrator isn’t so much about lying to your readers as leading them to doubt the version of events given by your narrator. You might do this from the outset, by having your narrator character make a statement that is plainly false or delusional. Or you might leave this reveal until later in the story. If you leave it until the end, it becomes a plot twist. William Riggan, in his book Pícaros, Madmen, Naīfs, and Clowns: The Unreliable First-person Narrator, suggests there are five types of Unreliable Narrators:

  • The Picaro, or braggart
  • The Madman, who may be experiencing psychological defence mechanisms, or deeper insanity
  • The Clown, who does not take narration seriously, and plays with convention, truth, and the reader’s expectations
  • The Naif, a narrator whose point of view is limited through immaturity or ignorance
  • The Liar, a narrator who deliberately misrepresents himself, often to cover up misdeeds

I’ve never yet had the courage to use the Unreliable Narrator device. But I should. I’m fascinated by the way different people read the same situation so differently. Perhaps it’s my academic training that leads me to be so unadventurous with the truth. I did write a short story in which the protagonist is autistic, but that’s as far as I’ve dared go so far.

8. How do you know what agents and publishers want? Some key websites.

Let’s say you’re writing a vampire novel (please don’t, it’s been done to death). How do you find out whether this is what the market is looking for? Are you spending hours writing a dark mystery novel when what everyone wants right now is spy thrillers? One editor, for example, fourteen hours ago was looking for “original fantasy! No elves, no orcs, no dwarfs, no euro-centric worlds. Give me something new!” and “non-military space opera! Well-developed characters, intriguing plot, original world building”. A day ago, another was looking for “a romantic comedy featuring hockey players! Bonus points for an enemies to lovers conflict”.

How do I know this? The Internet of course. All this information, and loads more, is on a website called MS WishList (http://www.mswishlist.com/). It is one of several such sites. Another is Agent and Editor Wishlist (http://agentandeditorwishlist.tumblr.com/). And then there’s the twitter frenzy of #mswl. Agents and publishers post their interests on these sites. There’s even an online pitching party four times a year on twitter at #pitmad (short for pitch madness) where you can pitch your completed manuscript directly. The next one is on Thursday 4 June from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. Eastern Standard Time (1:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m. UK time).

Of course, the agents and publishers who use these sites are generally the smaller ones. But some of the larger companies also periodically indicate what they’re looking for. Agents at Curtis Brown, one of the largest literary agencies, recently published a list of books they loved and what they would like to see more of (http://www.curtisbrowncreative.co.uk/blog/the-last-book-i-loved-recommendations-from-the-curtis-brown-agents/)

And then there’s the industry trade magazine, the Bookseller (http://www.thebookseller.com/) if you want to keep up with what’s hot and what’s not. You’ll find a lot of articles there about how the publishing world has been transformed by the e-publishing and self-publishing technological revolutions, and arguments about whether power in the industry has been transferred from publishers to readers, or to authors.

When I discovered all these websites, in addition to those of agents, publishers and magazines I had researched as being of interest to me, my heart sank. Were there really enough hours in the day to keep up with them all, and leave the odd minute here or there to do some writing? Of course, if you’re diligent you will keep up with them all. However, if you’re indolent like me, you’ll want something more digested. I confess the only thing I read regularly is the weekly (free) newsletter from Authors Publish, which I mentioned in a previous post. They highlight different publishers and magazines you can approach. That’s how I found the publishers to whom I submitted A Prize of Sovereigns. They have a really useful overview of publishers you can approach directly (http://www.authorspublish.com/the-top-20-publishers-for-new-authors/).

You do have to somehow keep tabs on what the market wants. Going to talks at Literary Festivals can be the sluggard’s way of doing this. The Winchester Writers’ Festival is coming up in a month’s time, and I’ll be there. I have one-to-one meetings lined up with an agent and a publisher. I’ll let you know how I get on.

7. Tinkering

With this week’s edit of A Prize of Sovereigns out of the way, I’ve resumed working on my short story route to literary fame. I have sent off 23 stories in the last 12 months with an acceptance ratio of 6.23%, according to my Duotrope (https://duotrope.com) control panel.

I’ve been tinkering with the two stories that almost made the grade. One, you will remember, was rejected for having a beginning, and a middle, but no end. The story, Zhuang Zhu’s Dream, deals with a character who starts to have memories of a life that isn’t his. Zhuang Zhu, by the way, was the Chinese sage who woke from a dream in which he had been a butterfly and wondered whether he had been a man dreaming he was a butterfly or was now a butterfly dreaming he was a man. I had ended the story with the main character waking to a terrifying memory of having killed someone. He considers and rejects the ideas of running away, and of confessing to the police. So he simply goes to work as normal. I had been satisfied with the idea. This, after all, is how most of us have to deal with the frightening and the inexplicable. We keep calm and carry on. But the editor was kind enough to give me this feedback.

“I very much liked the style in which this one was written, which was clear and entertaining, with a nice pace and all the elements in balance, and really my only criticism is that I felt it fizzled out a bit at the end. I’m left none the wiser as to what the significance of these false memories might be. The whole story seemed like a lead-up to a denouement that was never reached”

I understand his point. So I tinkered with the ending. It wasn’t easy. I really didn’t want to give any definitive explanation of where the memories came from. Definitive explanations don’t belong in literary fiction, I decided. Perhaps they were just dreams, incorrectly identified as memories? Or perhaps they were something more mysterious? Eventually, I decided on the device of presenting both resolutions, and leaving the reader to reach her own decision, depending on her proclivities. The main character is referred to a neurologist, who tells him that this is perfectly normal, and that he happens to lack a particular fold in his brain which makes it more likely he will confuse reality and imagination. The neurologist enrols him in a research study, where he meets another subject who seems to be living the life he has fragmentary memories of. What’s more, this subject describes having memories of a life that may be that of the main character.

I arrived at this ending having considered various alternatives. Might his memories simply be, as the doctor suggests, part of the normal process of confusing imagination and reality? Might his memories be portents of the future, with the ending being that he kills the neurologist?
I felt up-beat enough about the ending I had written that I submitted the story.

The magazine to which I had sent the first version is currently closed to submissions. So, in a fit of hubris, I submitted to a magazine with a 0.22% acceptance rate. I have already had five rejections from this magazine, so you’d think I would have learned. But belief in my story burned bright enough to take the risk again. I’ll let you know when the sixth rejection slithers into my in-box.

The second story I’ve been tinkering with has proved more complicated. This story, Interstices, was described by the editor as a “polarising story” – some of their readers really liked it and others didn’t. He said, “although everyone recognised it had the kernel of something interesting it ultimately could have been delivered better and with fewer clichés.” What? Me? Clichés? I devoted some time yesterday to hunting for clichés. I really only found one, though I did find some other bits of lazy writing. I showed the story over the weekend to a friend in my writing group. He was on the “don’t like it” side of the marmite polarisation, but he was kind enough to suggest that perhaps the story needed a more dramatic crescendo. I’m still tinkering with crescendos and worrying about where other clichés may be lurking.

Meanwhile, to reassure myself that tinkering is an appropriately adult form of play, I wondered what others might have said about the process. I came across this interesting slide from John Seely Brown (https://usergeneratededucation.files.wordpress.com/2011/12/2011-12-11_1127.png).

Tinkering

So that’s okay. I’m deep tinkering, not just messing about.

6. Two cultures

Winston Churchill said that the UK and the US were two cultures divided by a common language. As a Brit working with an American editor on the serialisation of A Prize of Sovereigns, I’m experiencing that first hand. Yesterday I received the edit of Chapter 8, and we ended up having a dialogue about the phrase “heavy horse”. My editor had made this plural, changing it to “heavy horses”.

In Medieval times, armoured knights on horseback were the shock combat weapons of war. A charge by hundreds of them could smash through an enemy’s lines. Collectively, they were known as “heavy horse”. The singular was used in the same as we might use “armour” today to collectively describe a brigade of tanks. “Heavy horses”, on the other hand, would mean a group of plough horses, not the fearsome threat of a mass mounted charge.

Of course, phalanxes of armoured knights on their terrible horses never thundered over the prairies of the United States. Not unreasonably, my editor said “heavy horse” meant nothing to her, and suggested we change it to “cavalry”. The problem is the word cavalry only began to come into use in the mid-sixteenth century, and A Prize of Sovereigns is set in the fifteenth century. Cavalry, for me, has the resonance of men armed with sabres, not broadswords.

In fact, to be fair to my editor, this isn’t just an issue of Brit and Yankee usage of the language. It’s also about vocabulary past and present. The same issue came up in Chapter 2, where Reuven, one of the main characters, wonders whether the leader of a peasant revolt has “treated” with the King. Reuven does not know at that point that the King has, rather ignobly, had the peasant leader shortened by a head while they met under a flag of truce. The verb “to treat” originally meant to negotiate. My editor persuaded me that nobody knew this anymore and to change it to “treatied”, which isn’t really a word at all, but hey ho! Reuven is only a peasant, and doesn’t speak proper.

It’s a new and pleasant problem for me, trying to decide when to stick to my guns, and when to yield. The writer is the custodian of the story’s interests, and the editor that of the reader’s interests. Once you publish, of course, the story belongs to the reader. On the “heavy horse” issue, we compromised on “detachment of heavy horse”.

The meaning of words, and how they change over time and place, is fascinating, and part of an author’s stock-in-trade to convey not only meaning but atmosphere. Even the word “word” carries new resonances today. It comes from old English, in which it means both an utterance and a truth. The second of those meanings, as in “my word is my bond”, has migrated into US street lingo.

“I got a new car.”
“Word?” [i.e. Really?]
“Word.” [i.e. I’m telling the truth]

However carefully you select your words and pin them to the page, they live lives of their own and will escape eventually. Nevertheless, we must try, as William Carlos Williams reminds us in Paterson:

“It is dangerous to leave written that which is badly written. A chance word, upon paper, may destroy the world. Watch carefully and erase, while the power is still yours, I say to myself, for all that is put down, once it escapes, may rot its way into a thousand minds, the corn become a black smut, and all libraries, of necessity, be burned to the ground as a consequence.”

5. Rejection hurts – the dark night of the soul, the light at the end of the tunnel and other clichés

J.K Rowling, with sales of 450 million copies of her Harry Potter series, received 12 rejections before she got the deal with Bloomsbury. The judgements of agents and publishers aren’t infallible. They’re just informed opinions about what is likely to sell. They can be wrong.

You tell yourself this when the rejections start coming in. The first one or two I was able to deal with as disappointing. As it got beyond five or six, I began to wonder “Can they all be wrong?” Maybe, I thought, my book isn’t as good as I believe it is. Maybe it’s the wrong book. Maybe I need to wait until I’m a better writer, and I’ve learned more.

By the end of 2014, I really felt that the book just wasn’t good enough. I stopped submitting to agents. Friends in my writing group tried to console me, but they were friends after all. I stopped listening to them. I said that until someone in the business told me I had a good book, I wasn’t going to believe. I weighed up my options. Option one, I could abandon A Prize of Sovereigns, and start work on the new book that was taking shape in my subconscious. Option 2, I could go back to a literary consultancy for some work on the book. Option 3, I could just tough it out, and continue to try to place the book, pretending that I believed in it.

I think most writers go through such times. People like to tell us it’s character-building. Really it’s just shitty.

In the end, what I did wasn’t completely any of the options I’d worked out. I did start work on my new book, but I didn’t completely abandon A Prize of Sovereigns.

At the same time as submitting it to agents, I had also been entering it for novel competitions. I didn’t win any prizes either. More rejections. But it was a small step from the competitions to try offering it to publishers who accepted un-agented submissions. So I was mixing option 1 and option 3. And then I realised there was also an option 4. If I started submitting my short stories to literary magazines I would increase my chances of success, which might make me feel better about my writing ability, and I might also built up some literary credentials with which to impress agents more.

I had submitted a few stories to magazines in the past, rather desultorily. I had 100% rejection rate there too. But I had never approached short stories as strategically as I had novels. I didn’t really know anything about what made for success.

Here’s another top tip coming, if you’re interested in placing short stories. There’s an amazing website called Duotrope (www.duotrope.com). For a relatively modest subscription it puts all sorts of strategic information at your fingertips. It’s a listing. You can look up what sort of stories different magazines are interested in, and what genres they publish. Now of course you can get that information from the magazines themselves. What you can’t get from them is their acceptance rates and their response times. When I looked up the magazines I had submitted to in the past, I almost slapped myself on the side of the head. Every single one of them had an acceptance rate of less than 1%. Unless I was better than 99% of other writers, of course they weren’t going to publish me.

At the beginning of 2015, I began to make a list, and started more rationally targeted submissions. I selected a group of magazines with acceptance rates ranging from the virtually unattainable below 1% all the way out to under 50%. I decided that submitting to anything that accepted more than half of what was sent to them wasn’t going to help me get those much needed literary credentials.

The new strategy paid off quite quickly. I had a story accepted in February by Alfie Dog, an online site with a 47.5% acceptance rate that sells stories in much the same way that iTunes sells music (alfiedog.com/fiction/stories/neil-macdonald/). It wasn’t a high prestige publication, but it was an acceptance. It did wonders for my self-confidence. And then the following week, an online publisher, Big World Network, offered to serialise A Prize of Sovereigns. Publication began on a weekly basis in May (bigworldnetwork.com/site/series/aprizeofsovereigns/).

At last, I could begin to believe in my novel again. Someone had seen merit in it. I didn’t abandon the short story strategy but began to send stories to magazines with tougher acceptance rates. I also began to tailor stories for particular magazines. Up until the present, all I’ve had is rejections, but some of the rejections have been very cheering. A magazine with an acceptance rate below 30% liked the writing so much they asked me to submit other work, as did one with an acceptance rate below 20% and one with an acceptance rate below 3%. I haven’t broken through yet into the literary firmament, but finally I have some reason to believe it can be done. Instead of blank rejections, some editors have taken the trouble to give me critiques and explanations of what made them decide against publication this time. You never get that from an agent.

That pretty much brings you up to date with where I’ve got to. Except for one last thing. A well respected publisher to whom I sent the first 30 pages of A Prize of Sovereigns liked it and asked in April to see the whole manuscript. They’re still looking at it. My fingers are firmly crossed.

This ends the historical section of the blog. I can stop relying on memory. From this point on, you’re along for the ride with me. I may make it, I may not. Whatever happens, I’m sure I’m going to learn new things along the way.

4. After the writing is over – publishing

So, you’ve written the definitive novel of the twenty first century. What do you do then? Sit back and wait for the plaudits to flow in? Well, no. So far nobody knows you’ve written it, apart from your friends and your writing group.

You’ve had to think like an artist when you wrote the first drafts of your novel. You’ve had to think like an editor, when you revised them with a readership in mind. Now you have to make another mind-switch – you have to get your manuscript in front of a publisher, and to do that you have to think like a marketer. Nobody said it was easy being an author!

Who would your book appeal to? What makes it different? You’re competing with an awful lot of other manuscripts. There were almost 305,000 books published in the US in 2013, and 184,000 in the UK in 2011. And in the Internet era, we can all be publishers – in 2012, around 391,000 books were self-published in the US. Sounds good, right? However, these are the tip of the iceberg. Literary agents receive around 1,000 manuscripts a year, and select only a handful of them. Most manuscripts simply aren’t good enough in their judgement, and even among the good ones, they will only choose the ones they think will make them money.
So, in my case, I’d finished the manuscript of A Prize of Sovereigns. I was sure it was as good as I could make it without input from a professional editor. I was upbeat. I was proud and confident. I researched what I had to do to get it published.

You can of course, as I noted, self-publish. The Internet has shaken up the publishing industry. It’s very easy for anyone to publish now, through sites like Amazon Kindle and print on demand companies like Lulu. But it’s not so easy to self-promote and distribute. That’s, at least in theory, where traditional publishers with their distribution networks and marketing departments still have an edge.
I decided I wanted to publish traditionally. Then came the next hurdle. Most of the big publishers will not accept unsolicited submissions from authors. To get to a publisher, you generally need to go through a literary agent. There are exceptions to this. A number of smaller publishers will look at manuscripts from un-agented authors. You can find out who these are by signing yourself up to the free newsletter produced by Authors Publish (www.authorspublish.com). Signing up to this newsletter is another one of my top tips.

Undaunted, I set about finding myself an agent. You can find agents’ details on a number of websites or in the Writers and Artists Yearbook. Look carefully at what they say they’re looking for, and who they already represent. I made up a list of agents who seemed to have an interest in my kind of book, and then worked my way through them. Some I e-mailed, some I saw face to face. Literary festivals are good places to meet agents. The annual Winchester Writers’ Festival is one of my favourites, because it has a reputation as an event where agents and publishers are actively looking for new authors. You get 15 minute sessions with agents, publishers or authors of your choice as part of the entrance fee. By the end of 2014 I had amassed 10 rejections.

One agent told me that A Prize of Sovereigns lacked the historical accuracy to be classed as history, and lacked the magic to be classed as fantasy. Another agent said no, it would appeal to both markets, but she didn’t relate to the characters.
When you submit to an agent you usually need a few sample chapters, a synopsis, and a query letter. Usually the synopsis has to be a page or less, though some agents want something different. Make sure you understand clearly what your agent of choice wants. I became quite adept at writing the synopsis for a complex story with seven point-of-view characters. Clearly, in a page, you can only outline the major elements of the story arc, so you need to make sure you know exactly what they are. Don’t get bogged down in detail. Something that helped me was writing a one paragraph summary of each chapter and then paring this down to the essential elements.

There are some dos and don’ts I’ve discovered about synopses.

  • A synopsis should normally be one page.
  • It is a simple and factual summary of what actually happens in your story. So avoid temptations to write as if you were creating the back cover jacket. Never use promotional language, such as describing your book as “heart wrenching” and never ask teaser questions like “what is the terrible secret Emily is hiding?” Give the answer, not the question.
  • It should be written in the present tense. So, “Emily hides the terrible secret” and not “Emily hid the terrible secret”.
  • The first paragraph should contain a statement of the main point of the book. This is your “elevator pitch”. An elevator pitch is the short 30 second description of your book that you would give if you suddenly found yourself face to face with your most desired agent or publisher in a short ride up in a lift.
  • Subsequent paragraphs should add more detail
  • The query letter is a business letter. Don’t put in lots of detail about how you came to write this book. They don’t care. The letter tells the agent what your book is, who it is for, how long it is. Simply state the title, the word length and the genre.

Don’t under any circumstances say that you don’t write to a genre. That will just make you seem like an amateur who doesn’t know anything about your market. The letter also includes any detail about your life and your writing credentials that may be relevant. For example if your book is set in a restaurant kitchen and you are a chef, this is relevant. If you have been published elsewhere, or have won any writing competitions mention these. Finally, it should give an indication of what it was about this particular agent that made you approach them.

I learned all these things, and put them into practice. I chose my agents with care, but I still got 10 rejections. Rejection hurts. Don’t let anyone tell you different. It eats away at your self-confidence. I’ll tell you about how that affected me in the next post.

Snoopy

3. Plotting out a story

Different people seem to write in different ways. Some people develop quite a detailed plan before they start writing, others have only general ideas and let the story develop as they write. I’m still learning the way that works best for me, trying out different approaches.

Whatever I do, it always starts with a core idea, something that I’m interested in exploring. The book that I’m telling you about, A Prize of Sovereigns, started with a musing about what we meant by goodness. We associate goodness with a quality of a person. I wondered then whether a bad person could do good actions, and also whether a good person could do bad actions. The book grew from there.

I didn’t set out to write a historical fantasy. In fact, the initial sketch was set in the real present world. But I soon realised that the dilemmas would be much more dramatic if the central characters were absolute rulers, whose personal decisions affected millions of people. The decision to set it historically emerged quite early on. I wrote it in the same way I wrote the second novel, but quite differently from my first novel or the one I’m currently writing. For A Prize of Sovereigns I wrote what I call a “cartoon”, a 10,000 word extended short story. I mean a cartoon in the same way that artists do simplified sketches of their final work, not in the Disney sense of the word. In the shortened version, it’s easier to sketch out the overall arc of the story.

“Arc of the story” is one of those technical terms I learned. It’s really just a fancy way of saying what change happens. There are lots of ways of thinking about arcs, but the simplest is often the best – a story has to have a beginning, a middle, and an end.

In the beginning we meet the main characters (or most of them anyhow) and we see the situation they are in.

Something precipitates change, taking us into the middle of the story. In the middle, the main character encounters challenges, there is conflict, and there may be mystery or a quest. The story builds towards a climax, with dramatic reversals for the main character on the way.

In the ending, the conflicts are resolved, and any mysteries explained.

Freytag

Sounds simple doesn’t it? But I recently had a short story rejected by a literary magazine for having a beginning and a middle but no end.

Anyhow, I sketched the arc of the story with my 10,000 word “cartoon” and then I elaborated it into the novel. A colleague in my writing group asked me, when I described this method of writing, whether it wasn’t boring since I knew what the ending was. Well, actually it isn’t. The cartoon really only had five main characters – two rival princes, a scheming chancellor, a peasant archer and his sweetheart. I added three more major characters as I wrote – an itinerant story-teller who rises to become a medieval spin-doctor, an abused queen who plots her revenge on her husband, and a religious girl who hears voices, telling her to save her country from invasion. The plot lines became more numerous and the weave thicker. The characters, with more interactions open to them, began to do things I hadn’t expected, and take me to places I hadn’t planned. So, no it wasn’t boring at all. It was a joy. As soldiers are fond of saying, “no plan survives the first engagement”.

Different authors seem to be very different in how they relate to their characters, but a successful character will always become partially autonomous of you. That’s the problem, or the pleasure, of being a Creator, without being omnipotent or omniscient. Sometimes they whisper their stories in your ear, sometimes you have to release them and leave them to show you what the story is.

As the tapestry of your story starts to become more complex, you’ll probably need some tools like I do. I usually develop at least a timeline to keep track of the sequence of events including backstory that isn’t fully developed in the book, and character sheets to record what I learn about my characters, so I don’t inadvertently contradict myself about their age, or appearance, or whims and habits. You can buy author software that does this and more for you, but you can do it just as easily with pencil and paper, or on a spreadsheet.

At a minimum you probably want to make sure you know and record the following things about your main characters:

  • Name
  • Age
  • Origins (including family and background)
  • Appearance
  • Characteristics (positive and negative) and flaws
  • Distinctive mannerisms
  • Likes and dislikes
  • Goals
  • Key relationships

You won’t necessarily use all of these things in the writing, but you should know them, if you want to know who they are and how they might react in the situations that develop.