This holiday season has been a first for me: the first time I had neatly-stacked anthologies with my name on the back cover under my tree. There I sat with a pile of Dark Bits on one side of me and Steamed Up on the other side as I wrapped presents for family and friends.

My parents and parents-in-law were an easy buy this year. I autographed copies of Dark Bits to my dad and father in law, and Steamed Up to my mom and mother-in-law. A copy of each went into my parcel to my best friend. I was so proud to be able to put paper copies in their hands in thanks for their support and encouragement for all this time. In fact, I couldn’t wait to go home and show everyone my books.

I was in the process of autographing a copy of Dark Bits to my grade school friend when I realized I had to be careful here. These were books I’d purchased (at the author discount, but still, purchased by me). Purchased to sell at conventions and to people I met. If I gave them all as gifts, I’d be out a good chunk of change, and I’d have to save up and make another order before I’d have hard copies to sell again.

I believe my books are good reading, and I can’t afford to just give them all away.

So I took another look at my holiday list, and my stacks of books, and resisted the urge to sign a book to everyone I knew.

I now have a book-gifting policy:

1. I will gift books to friends for whom I would ordinarily buy a present, in place of that present, if I feel they would genuinely like the book. No money lost, as I’d have bought them a gift anyway. Some of my friends aren’t readers, and that’s okay–I’ll buy them something else.

2. I will gift books to friends who want to read my stuff and can’t afford to buy it. I remain, to this day, dazzled by the generosity of a friend of mine who mailed me a copy of her latest hardcover, for free, shortly after its release date, because she knew I was out of work and tight on money. She could have waited for me to get a job; she didn’t. I’m paying this forward.

3. I will gift books to my parents, my parents-in-law and my best friend, for being my closest supporters.

For everyone else, my friends and extended family members, I’m happy to sell them a book.

I felt more than a little anxiety going home for the family celebration with copies of my books in hand to sell. On one hand, I’d written those stories and purchased those sale copies; I deserved to see some profit in exchange for my labour. On the other hand, I was afraid I’d sound greedy, or naggy, or selfish. I vowed that I wouldn’t pester anyone, but I reminded myself that it isn’t reasonable for anyone to expect copies for free. People who were willing and able to support me, and interested in my stories, would do so with a book purchase. I was very pleased by how many of my cousins and friends offered to buy copies–who were willing to support me with a purchase, rather than expecting a book for free. My anxieties had been for nothing.

One of the greatest gifts a writer can receive is the support of a book purchase, and I’d like to thank everyone who’s been willing to give this gift to me.

One Saturday with Sean

December 24, 2013

Tristan Brand

2011 was the year I first started writing in earnest. I made it my goal to write a new novel every three months. I wasn’t trying to produce finished products but rather to prove to myself I could write a novel start-to-finish, as well as to experiment with different writing styles and genres to see what worked for me.

I spent seven years in school learning math. One of the nice things about a subject like mathematics is constant and (mostly) objective feedback. A professor will grade your homework assignments and exams, the results of which serves as data to help you improve your process. You learn when you’ve done something right and when you’ve done something wrong.

Not so, in writing. You can spend days hammering away at a piece and end up with something that isn’t clearly good or bad. That’s where I found myself. After writing three practice novels, I was left frustrated. Some days they’d seem promising; other days, hopeless. I don’t mind doing things wrong as long as I know what I’m doing wrong, but with writing I couldn’t always tell the difference. I hated not knowing. I’d approach each writing session with a feeling of dread, no idea if I was moving forward or backward.

Fortunately, I had my best friend Sean.

Sean’s not a heavy reader and didn’t know a ton about the fantasy genre. He was running his own business at the time and worked so many hours I don’t know how he stayed sane. Despite all that, during one of his rare free weekends right around when I was finishing that third novel, Sean chose to spare the time to fly up and visit me. We didn’t go to a movie or play video games. Instead, we spent an entire Saturday in front of a white-board while I went through everything I’d done in trying to write that novel.

I went through my plot in excruciating detail, talking as much about my process as I did my characters. I talked about what I wanted for the novel, an epic fantasy story about a human and dragon raised as foster brothers. About how a promising start fell apart in the third act because I didn’t know what to do with half my side-characters. I talked about my struggles with dialogue and action sequences, and how my plan for a really cool revelation toward the end fizzled because I couldn’t come up with anything even remotely clever.

Throughout it all, Sean asked questions, made comments, gave me his take. Some things he liked, others he didn’t. He’s got great intuition for when something doesn’t feel right, and with his help we were able to pinpoint some missteps I made along the way. In particular we figured out that Coren, one of the main characters, didn’t have clear goals much of the time, which left some key conflicts vague and important scenes weak. I was too close to the novel to see that, but when Sean pointed it out things became much clearer. Yeah, I had made some mistakes, but now I knew why, and I knew I could fix it in the future.

Now, I need to mention, Sean didn’t come up and spend his day talking about my failed novel because I begged him to. It was all his idea. He wanted to come. He knew how important writing was to me and wanted to support me. He didn’t just critique my ideas, he told me which ones he loved. Actually being able to see the excitement in someone else’s face as I described a particular character or conflict felt amazing. It showed me that even though the novel hadn’t worked as a whole, at least it had potential.

That Saturday took me out of my mental rut. It gave me the fuel I needed to move on to the next project, and it helped me remember that no matter how lonely writing sometimes feels, as long as you have good friends, you never truly have to do it alone.

Feedback is a Gift

December 23, 2013

Jace Killan

Jace Killan The Writing Life 1 Comment

I participated in a writing group where we’d take turns submitting a few chapters of our work for critique. I submitted a portion of a novel I had been working on, excited for the group to see my talent.

During the feedback session they started with the good. Most stated that they loved my dialogue and two pointed out the beautiful imagery of a particular scene. Then came the bad. I had misspelled some words, my punctuation was a mess, and I brought a number of things into the story that I didn’t use, but the worst was my misuse of point of view. In one chapter, I switched POV seven times.

My first reaction was to give up. I obviously was not the writer I thought. But as I read and reread the comments I began to comprehend and see what my friends were pointing out. As I applied their suggestions, I could see that my writing ability increased.

I have had several similar experiences over the years. As I accepted and applied the feedback I was given, my craft became stronger. I love receiving helpful feedback; it really is a gift. Winston Churchill said, “Criticism may not be agreeable, but it is necessary. It fulfills the same function as pain in the human body. It calls attention to an unhealthy state of things.”

The following is a list of thoughts in receiving and giving feedback.

In receiving feedback:

Actively solicit feedback. I have learned that everyone has an opinion. The smart ones don’t usually share that opinion unless they’re asked.

Check your ego at the door. Sometimes criticism can be tough to swallow. The worst thing I can do is to argue with feedback, especially if it is solicited. Besides looking like a dope, arguing closes the receiver’s mind but may also shut down a valuable source.

Be grateful for good feedback. Over the years of soliciting feedback, I’ve gotten the impression that many tread lightly, not wanting to hurt my feelings. As I’ve shown my gratitude, I’ve received more than criticism; I’ve been given greater feedback and encouragement.

Not all feedback is good advice. I spent some time, sharing my work on a website known as Absolute Write. They have an extensive critique section, and most of what I received there was good advice. Some however was not. I’ve learned not to take every critique as if it were coming from a qualified source. I’ll often research the source to determine the value of the feedback. If there is advice that I don’t agree with, I’ll research it or solicit other opinions. By doing this I’ve usually been able to conclude whether the advice is sound or garbage.

In giving solicited feedback:

State your qualifications. This will help the receiver know how to value your feedback.

Start with the good. I have learned just as much from the positive feedback that I have received as the negative. In my example above, I studied what it was that made my dialogue good, then worked to improve on it and incorporate those techniques in other aspects of my craft. Praise can also help settle the receiver’s insecurities and soften any criticism.

Be honest and specific. There have been times where I have softened my solicited feedback in fear of hurting another’s feelings. I’ve since realized that by doing so, I probably did more harm than good. People will respect honesty and those that are honest. Also it doesn’t help to just say something is good or bad, instead indicate why with specifics.

Offer some solutions. The group that evaluated my work pointed out the problems I had with point of view. They took the time to go over specifics with me, showing me each of the seven POV changes in the chapter and then they referred me to several sources where I could learn more about the subject.

The greatest gift that I have received as an aspiring writer is the time others have taken to help me learn how to improve my craft through good honest feedback.

The Impact of Mere Words

December 20, 2013

Gregory D. Little

Gregory D. Little Motivation The Writing Life 1 Comment

Growing up, I was never a fan of English class. It’s not as though I didn’t have some great English teachers, because I did. It was the curriculum. I can appreciate grammar for the sake of what it brings about, but I’ll never love it for its own sake. And as for the literature side of things, for every The Count of Monte Cristo (Murder! Betrayal! Intrigue!) there were three or four nightmares along the lines of The Old Curiosity Shop (Walking! Talking! Dying of natural causes!).

It’s therefore safe to say I didn’t hold out much hope for AP English in my senior year of high school. I figured it would net me some credits that would get me out of what would probably be an even worse class in college, and that would be that for my formalized English education. Earlier in the week I talked about a crisis point where I nearly gave up writing. Today, because I apparently enjoy working in reverse chronological order, I’m going to talk about how critical my AP English teacher was to my decision to become a writer. Because while I’d learned I could enjoy writing two years prior (as detailed in this old post), she was the person who convinced me I was good at it.

I’ve never been a particularly self-confident person. It’s a problem that persists to this day. In high school I was a very good student but never top in my class, and I was content to let the truly elite students grab all the embarrassing attention that came with all that confidence and all those As. But my teacher in twelfth grade ran a different kind of English class. She postponed tests on a whim. She let us play croquet outside once the AP exam was over in the spring. She would regularly trade examples of Simpsons trivia with me. She was a lot of fun, and she enjoyed her job. When a teacher cares about what she or he is doing, it’s always obvious.

Now because the senior reading curriculum was a little more flexible we were able to tackle books that had more complex themes. I found these more complex ideas interested me. Her writing assignments held my interest and weren’t just a rush to put down on paper what I thought the teacher wanted to hear as quickly as possible. I was really analyzing the stuff I read, thinking hard about how I interpreted books like Heart of Darkness and The King Must Die.

Which brings me to another thing my teacher tended to do that would prove significant. When she’d hand back essays, she would mention aloud the one or two she thought ranked among the best in the class. Just rattle off the names to give a little public praise, always a good thing. And because I’d been going to school with the same group of kids my whole life, those names were rarely surprising. Until one day, getting near the semester break. Our teacher listed off the same one or two students who, as usual, had produced sterling essays analyzing whatever book we were reading at the time. And then she said “but Greg is really turning out to be a dark horse candidate for best writer in the class.” I’d known she liked my writing from her comments on my papers all year up to that point. But I remember being startled to hear it spoken aloud and phrased in such a fashion. Not just good, but one of the best? I’ve never forgotten that comment.

I learned to like writing my sophomore year. But I started believing I could be good at it my senior year, thanks to Mrs. Whitten. And however good a writer I was then or have become now, I doubt I can ever fully convey my gratitude in mere words. So please keep in mind, whether you’re in the position to influence a young mind or not, how much of a positive impact your words of praise can have on a person. I know I count these particular words among my greatest gifts as a writer.