Writers -- There's support on Twitter!

I often feel isolated as a writer. I’m not one of those people who can write with a lot of noise going on around them. I don’t need—or want—music playing in the background. When I sit down to write, I usually seek out a quiet corner of the house and immerse myself in my story, with my characters as my only company. It works well for me.

I live in a VERY small town and there are no writers’ groups near me. I’ve been part of one writers’ group, a long time ago, and I enjoyed it and believe my writing benefited from it. But I don’t have that option anymore where I live. I’ve considered joining an online writers’ group, but there’s something about the idea of sharing my WIP with people I’ve never met that gives me the shivers. I’ve never done it; I don’t know if I ever will. (I would welcome input from anyone reading this on that subject!)

When I finish a section of my book, I have a few family members that I share it with, and I value their input. They’ve offered insight and opinions that have helped my stories evolve, and I appreciate that so much. They will continue to be my first beta readers. But they’re not writers. We’re not sharing each other’s pieces as you do in a writers’ group.

For all these reasons, I feel rather isolated. And sometimes, I’d like a compatriot.

What I’ve discovered is … you’re out there. Writing compatriots exist and share and vent and enthuse and support online, and I’m finding more and more of you on Twitter. I’ve found so many people on Twitter who seem to be so much like me. You’re pouring your hearts into your writing, you’re working it as well as you know how, and then you’re taking deep breaths and you’re offering your books to the world. Just like me.

Some of you are so generous with your insights and your knowledge and your experience that you share in blog posts and then post to Twitter. I’ve been learning through those posts, and I appreciate your willingness to share these tidbits with the rest of us. I’m truly hoping that, even though I don’t get many comments at all on my blog, people are finding my posts and getting something out of them.

It is with this hope, and in the spirit of reciprocity, that I continue to blog about my writing and my experience in self-publishing. I like to share, and I like to learn. I’m grateful for what I’ve been learning through others’ blogs, and I hope to be helping others.

If you’re a writer and you haven’t been paying much attention to other writers’ posts on Twitter, I encourage you to do so. As writers, we try to evolve with each piece. Sharing and learning from others—as well as from our own experiences—are ways to encourage that growth process.

Keep writing. Keep sharing. Keep learning and growing. That’s my plan. 

Ask your editor: EVERYTHING! I mean it, ask your editor everything.

I have a new, young client who has hired me to edit her dystopian YA novel. This young woman impressed me from the get-go when she explained that she wrote her first book to help engage her history students more with the material she was introducing to them in the classroom. Her level of commitment and her enthusiasm for learning in general really reeled me in. I wanted to work with her!

She sent me a sample of her book—a few pages from the beginning—to give me a feel for the story and her writing style and abilities. (I always appreciate this.) In turn, I edited the sample and returned it to her so that she could see how I would work with her book. (There are many editors who believe you should never provide a free sample. I am not one of them. If I feel a writer is generally interested in working with me and not out to scam some free services, then I totally understand their desire to see what I would do with their “baby.” They need to feel they can trust me and that I’m not going to butcher the book—unless it needs it!—and that I’m out to help them make their book the best it can be. How are they going to really know that if they don’t get a taste of what I’ll do with it? But I digress ….)

After she reviewed the sample, she let me know she was really happy with what I had done and she had some questions for me based on my edits. Most of her questions where technical—why a comma here and not there, etc. I answered them and encouraged her to send me more when she had them. At this point, she hadn’t technically hired me; we hadn’t signed the contract yet. But she was eager and wanted to learn, and I trusted we would end up working together.

She took my advice and used the feedback I had offered her on the sample and revised the WHOLE manuscript before she actually hired me and sent it to me. She benefitted from that advice, I benefited from that advice (as she fixed problems I hadn’t even seen yet), and the book benefited from that advice. She has asked me to leave as many comments as possible as I perform the first round of editing to let her know what I think is working, what isn’t working, what affected me, what didn’t affect me, etc. Essentially, she wants to peer over my shoulder as I work and see my reaction to her words.

I love working with people who want to learn. It’s the teacher in me. I welcome their questions, and I love to see them grow and succeed.

My point to this blog is this: As a writer, never be afraid to ask questions of your editor or your beta readers. Don’t be afraid to hear negative criticism—in that, this isn’t working, that doesn’t sound true to that character, etc. Isn’t it better to have your editor and your beta readers find those problems and help you fix them than your readers pointing them out after you publish your book?

Give your editor and your beta readers encouragement and license to dissect your book. If there’s something you don’t understand, ask for it to be explained. Be open to learning and hearing different points of view. You will grow from it, and your book will be better.

Rush to self-publish? It's hard not to, but I'm waiting.

I’ve noticed that people who self-publish often impose on themselves “launch dates” for their books without allowing (what I would consider) enough time to properly prepare their books. I blogged about this a while ago in more detail, so I’ll try not to repeat myself here.

When we self-publish, we have no one looking over our shoulder to offer advice or pull back on the reins if we’re rushing headlong into launching a book that looks less than professional, whether that’s because it lacks a well-crafted cover, it contains formatting problems, or it reads as though we’ve never been introduced to an editor—let alone spell check. Everything is up to us.

I’m getting ready to self-publish my first book (third novel written, first to throw out there to the world), and it’s incredibly exciting and nerve-wracking. I’m beginning to understand why people rush. I can’t wait to go to Amazon and search for my name and have my book pop up, ready to buy. I can’t wait to read the reviews. I’m chomping at the bit, anticipating how many people will discover my book—people I’ve never met and may never meet.

And no one is telling me, “Sharon, first you need to do this, and then you need to do this, and then you HAVE to do that.” If I wanted to upload my book today, I could do it and the waiting would be over. I would soon know how many people will find it, and how many people will like it.

But my book’s not ready. Not yet.

For one thing, my cover isn’t done. I’m so excited by the concept my brother has shown me, and I’ll likely get a chance to see the first draft of it this week. If I sign off on it, he tells me it won’t take him long to finish it. I could create something else quicker, using CreateSpace’s cover designer, but it wouldn’t be as good, and it wouldn’t have my brother’s input. It’s worth it to wait.

My formatting isn’t quite done either, but it’s close. I basically need to double-check (and I’ll probably triple-check) the guidelines to ensure I haven’t missed anything. I don’t HAVE to do this, but I know it’s wise to take my time. I know (as an editor) how easy it is to miss the little things. Would these little things impact the readability of my book at this point? Probably not. But if I can find them and fix them, why shouldn’t I?

I also want to spend some time here on my blog introducing you to the history behind my novel The Dragon’s Daughter. I have some chapters to share here to give you a little insight into where these people came from and why they are the way they are. I hope by doing this that I’ll be building in you some interest to read the book. I hope these backstories will make you curious about their world and their lives and that you’ll want to pick up The Dragon’s Daughter after reading these little chapters. It’s not quite time to share those, but it’s getting close. And I definitely don’t want to publish my book until I’ve done this.

We live in a world where we want everything now, now, now. And for the most part, we can get just about anything now, now, now (or close to it). I just don’t think that’s always a good thing.

I understand, now better than ever, the desire to rush to publish. But my book will get only one introduction to the world. I want it to the best introduction it can get, and that, to me, is worth the wait.

I don’t have to rush.

So what if agents don't want my book ... I'm self-publishing!

As I mentioned in my previous post, self-publishing makes me nervous. But it also makes me very, very excited.

Have you gone through the querying process with agents? Have you labored and labored over your book, revised your book, sweated your query letter, revamped your query letter, cussed and fumed and cussed some more as you wrote (or tried to write) your synopsis?

Having done all of that, have you then sat on pins and needles (actually, sitting on pins and needles might be more pleasant), waiting to hear back from those agents? Have you jumped as if poked by one of those pins every time a new email comes in, knowing it’s probably not an agent, but if it is an agent … good lord if it IS an agent … Will she hate it? Will he love it? Will she offer any advice at all if she hates it? Will he just send a form rejection that says, “Although we believe your story has merit, we don’t believe it’s a good fit for our list right now. Other agents may feel differently, though, and we wish you the best with your book.” (No, I didn’t copy and paste that. I’ve gotten enough of them, I know how they go.)

Have you gotten that much anticipated, can’t-believe-it’s-in-my-inbox response that says, “I really liked these first three chapters. Could you send the full manuscript?” Have you gotten up and done a little jig after reading that—and after squealing like a tween who just saw her pop-star idol? Have you then waited in breathless anticipation, barely sleeping, barely eating, checking your email every two minutes whether you’ve heard the notification or not, just hoping, barely daring to hope that the agent will get back to you and say, “I’d like to talk to you. When can we speak on the phone?” (I’ve never had that happen, so I don’t know how that goes for sure.)

Have you ever had to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and convince yourself to keep trying because yet another agent said no after reading the full manuscript? Have you wondered, “Why am I still trying to put this book out there? No one wants it. Maybe it really does suck.”

I’ve done all the above with three books, The Dragon’s Daughter being the last one that went through the process. I corresponded with some really amazing agents, some people who were very generous with their time, both in reviewing my book and in offering me advice and insight regarding what I could do with it that (in their opinion) would make it stronger. I appreciated that. I took much of their advice to heart and believe the book is stronger for it. However, at the end of the day, I’m still in possession of a book that no one wants to represent.

Except me.

And this is where self-publishing gave me a whole new perspective. Once I decided I wasn’t going to go the traditional route (or, more accurately, once it became clear I wasn’t going to be able to go the traditional route), but I was going to self-publish, a weight lifted.

All of the sudden, a door opened and I knew that my book was going to make it out into the world. All my books that I have yet to write are going to make it out into the world. I will sweat them. I will revise them. I will seek feedback from others, from beta readers, and I may even decide to query the next one too … just to see. But my words are actually going to have a home and a place in the world. I’m not at the mercy of New York City anymore. I have the power to do this on my own.

If that’s not exciting, I don’t know what is.

Self-publishing gives me butterflies. But most of them are the good kind. I’m looking forward to sharing my book with you.

I'm going to self-publish. Here's why.

After a lot of thought and research, I’ve decided to self-publish my third novel, The Dragon’s Daughter. It’s a coming-of-age story about Mariah Baxter, the 16-year-old daughter of a Ku Klux Klan grand dragon, and it caught the interest of sixteen agents with impressive client lists, some of whom suggested revisions and read it again after I’d revised. The results, sadly, were the same. No one wanted to take a chance on me. I’m not famous. I don’t have a huge platform or a ready-made audience. They all said no.

When I started writing novels about ten years ago, I decided I would publish traditionally or not all. Now, granted, ten years ago self-publishing was not what it is today. But even after I finished querying the agents I felt were best suited to represent The Dragon’s Daughter and been turned down by them all, and even though self-publishing no longer bears the stigma it once did, I still felt like it wasn’t for me.

Self-publishing scared me. Hell, I’m going to do it and it still scares me.

I’m scared to self-publish because it’s all up to me. I have to make sure I do everything I absolutely can to promote my book. I have to try and reach as many people as I can and introduce them to my book. I have just shy of 300 Facebook friends and fewer than 50 Twitter followers. My blog gets sporadic interest, but I definitely need to be writing more here. I hope more than 350 people buy my book. But whether they do or they don’t, it’s up to me.

Gulp.

I have to worry about the technical issues: Is it proofed to within an inch of its life? Is it formatted correctly? Do I want white pages or cream pages? (White.) What do I do about a cover? (I ask my amazingly talented brother to design one.) Should I let Create Space assign me an ISBN or should I buy my own? (I’m pretty sure I’m going to buy my own.)  Should I create my own “publishing company”? (I put “publishing company” in quotation marks because I do believe I am going to do this, but I have no intention of publishing anyone’s book but my own.)

But when all of this is said and done, the biggest concern for me is the quality of the story. Did I write a book that other people will enjoy? Did I create characters that seem real, that seem like people you might actually meet one day, people that you will think about long after you’ve finished reading my book? Is the story believable? Do you care about it and about (at least some of) my characters?

I believe in my book. I believe in my characters. I believe in my story. And that, my friends, is why I’m self-publishing. I want to give my book a chance to see the world. I want to introduce you to Mariah, Chloe, Jeremy, Justin, and the dragon himself, Craig Baxter. I want you to sympathize with the struggles these kids go through, and I want you to hate the dragon—and his blackhawk, Jimmy Burns, Jr.

And I think you will, on all counts.

My brother is designing the cover as I write. I’m still sorting out ISBN and publishing company details. I’ll keep you posted on what I learn and what I decide.

And I’ll be sharing little stories about Mariah’s family before I release the book, stories that go all the way back to the Civil War.

Please come along with me on this wonderful, scary, adventuresome ride of self-publishing. And if you have stories of your own, please share them. 

Blackfish and The Cove: My challenges to you

When it comes to the natural world, we humans are some of the most selfish creatures God put on this earth. I am tired of trying to saying this nicely. I’m tired of trying to be politically correct. There aren’t a whole lot of “issues” I get on a soapbox about, but people, we have to stop supporting dolphin and orca shows (and other similar exhibits). We have to.

A couple years ago, I watched The Cove, a documentary about how marine parks of all types and sizes acquire the dolphins they use in their shows. Ever gone to one of those? Ever had a “dolphin experience”? Well, “your” dolphins were there (in captivity, remember) because they were stolen from their home—oh, and their friends and families were murdered in the infamous cove.

So here’s my first challenge: Be human enough to watch The Cove. It will take less than two hours of your time. It will cost you MUCH less (in dollars) than it would cost to go to a dolphin show or participate in a “dolphin experience,” and it will change the way you look at those parks for the rest of your life. I guarantee it.

Tonight I watched Blackfish, a documentary about orcas—killer whales—in captivity for our enjoyment. Here’s what I learned in Blackfish:

(1) Orcas are very social creatures. That’s why they strand themselves in huge numbers on beaches. They refuse to leave each other’s side.

(2) Females live as long as human females—sometimes even beyond a hundred years. Males live at least fifty or sixty years. Sea World will tell you that when the orcas in their custody live to be twenty or twenty-five or even thirty, they’re living longer than those in the wild. Sea World lies.

(3) A female’s offspring remains with her for ALL OF ITS LIFE. All of its life, that is, unless it is stolen by captors working for Sea World and other groups like them.

(4) An orca trainer is never really safe with the orca. After decades in a small pool (compared to the ocean where they can swim a hundred miles a day if they want!), being deprived of food, being contained with other orcas who can be aggressive and cause physical injuries, some orcas get frustrated and take that frustration out on their trainers. How happy would you be after spending twenty-five years in a bathtub?

So here’s my next challenge: Watch Blackfish. It will take much less than two hours of your time, and you will be a better person for it. You will think differently about what we as “the intelligent species” do to those other species who are “less intelligent” (except orcas feel emotions more deeply than we do and in ways we aren’t capable of).

My third, final, and biggest challenge is this: Stop supporting these places. Stop going.

See, here’s the thing: Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should. Your kids don’t HAVE to see those shows. Your kids don’t HAVE to swim with the dolphins. They will not grow up to be better people for having done so, but you will have contributed to the early deaths of these amazing creatures by supporting the companies that put them on display. Thousands of dolphins are killed every year off the coast of Taiji as new dolphins are caught and sold for these shows. Orcas die many decades sooner than they should after living horrible, sad lives in tiny little fish bowls. Why? So you could have an hour’s worth of entertainment?

We need, as the human race to be different and better than this. It should matter to all of us. Instead of taking your kids to these shows, educate them about these animals, about  amazing creatures with whom we get to share this world. Rent videos. If you can afford to do so, take them on a whale-watching tour. Teach them to respect the natural world, to stand in awe of it, not to try to manipulate it for their own enjoyment. Then they will be better people. 

We're the only ones who can end these shameful, harmful acts against nature. It's up to us. What are you going to do?

In the Time of the Butterflies: Required reading

I should begin this review of In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez by confessing I am not the greatest history student. I remember little from what I was taught in high school, but some from what I learned in college. I was an English major, so I took only what I needed to meet my requirements for my degree, but I don’t believe I was ever taught that the Dominican Republic—such a close neighbor of ours—was ruled by a savage dictator for more than thirty years.

I know it now—and will never forget it—because I read Alvarez’s book. You should read it too.

In the Time of the Butterflies is a novel based on real sisters—the Mirabal sisters: Patria, Minerva, MarÍa Teresa, and Dedé—three of whom were active members of the resistance against the Trujillo dictatorship. Dedé was the only one who refused to be part of it, and she was the only one who survived it.

I’m giving away nothing by telling you this; that part of their story is clear from the beginning. In fact, that’s part of what makes this story so heart wrenching. You know they’re going to die, and then you grow to respect them, to be inspired by them, and ultimately—if you’re like me—fall in love with them, taking them into your heart as if they were family or friends you wished you had known.

Alvarez came to this story because of her own family history. Her father was a part of the Dominican resistance and fled to New York in 1960 to escape death. Alvarez had grown up hearing stories about the “mariposas” (the butterflies), as the Mirabal sisters were known, but she wouldn’t fully understand their story until she was a young adult and back in the Dominican Republic for one of her many visits. Alvarez was able to interview Dedé and Minou, Minerva’s daughter. She visited the museum where many of the sisters’ personal belongings are on display. She researched their lives, she began to imagine them as real people, and then she gave us the gift that is In the Time of the Butterflies.

Yes, it’s historical fiction. Yes, she took some liberties as novelists do. But I challenge you to read this book and not be moved by what the people of the Dominican Republic endured. I challenge you to forget these sisters and everything they stood for, everything—and everyone—they loved. I don’t think I ever will. I don't think it's possible.