Questions and Answers with a Cynical Devil and an Understanding Angel

By Aaron Michael Ritchey

So the PPW blog editor suggested we answer some newbie questions on publishing and I realized, almost immediately, that I have two very distinct voices in my head. I figured I’d answer some questions using both voices because the truth is probably somewhere in the middle.

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Where do I begin my book?
CYNICAL DEVIL:  You are new. You don’t know a thing, so just write.  Once you pull your head out of your butt, you’ll figure out where you should start your story. Most likely, you’ll be like everyone else and spend five chapters getting ready. That’s fine. Just write your book, the whole thing, and don’t look back.  f you stop and try to edit along the way, you’ll be like every other person who wants to write a book and never does.

UNDERSTANDING ANGEL:  There are numerous books on plotting, and I’d recommend Robert McKee’s Story. Really, the first chapter should be as close to the inciting incident as possible, if not the inciting incident itself. Really, the seeds of the main conflict should be in the first chapter, but don’t worry too much. Most likely, you’ll have to re-write the opening quite a few times. Look at other books that are similar to yours and see what they’ve done.

Should I include a prologue?
CYNICAL DEVIL:  If you do, no agent or editor will look at it twice. Prologues are despised by everyone in the industry. And why not just start with the story? What? Are you trying to be all fancy? You think you’re better than me?

UNDERSTANDING ANGEL:  The best use of prologue I’ve seen was in the pilot episode of Firefly, the TV series. It set up the whole series. In the end, if the prologue works, include it, and if it doesn’t, start with Chapter One. The nice thing about this industry is that there are no rules. Do what you think makes sense and again, take a look at your favorite books, with and without prologues, and decide what makes the most sense for your story.

How do I know when a book is done?
CYNICAL DEVIL:  Your book is never done. If it’s your first book, finish it, and then burn it. Write your second book. It will be far better.  Edit until your eyes bleed ink and your fingers fall off. Then write the next one.

UNDERSTANDING ANGEL:  This is a hard question because you can chase critiques for years and with a novel in process, everyone is going to offer up their opinions on how to make it better and how to change it. Generally, a novel will take two or three drafts to take shape. Scenes will have to be juggled or cut. Additional material might be needed. Characters might be scrapped or added. But I’m talking two or three major drafts. Again, there are no hard or fast rules. Some books have needed to be rewritten from the beginning, while others were hardly touched. If you read the whole thing, and you can’t think of anything to add or change, then it’s finished. For now. Once you start working with an editor on that final, final draft, well, that’s when you’ll know. Until you start thinking of what you want to add to the second edition.

I’ve finished my book.  Now what?
CYNICAL DEVIL: You’re not finished. Go back and fix it. If you think it’s finished, query agents and editors. Once they all reject you, and they will, write the next one. If you think you have the guts to self-publish, do that. But keep writing, editing, and shopping your work around. If you aren’t doing that, you’re not a writer, and you are wasting everyone’s time. Life is short. If you don’t have to write, don’t. If you need to write, you have my sincerest condolences.

UNDERSTANDING ANGEL:  Talk to other writers and authors and get a feel for their careers and what they have done. Some writers are driven to get traditionally published, and so they will craft query letters, write synopses of various lengths, and they will reach out to literary agents. If you find a literary agent that thinks they can sell your manuscript, they will shop it around to editors at publishing houses. Some writers have found success by approaching editors at smaller presses, at writer’s conferences and other venues. And some writers have self-published their work and have loved the process. You’ll need to hire a cover artist and an editor because self-publishing still requires the cleanest, best manuscript you can deliver. It’s so nice that we have so much freedom and so many options. But it all goes back to writing the best book you can.

Final thoughts?
CYNICAL DEVIL:  Get out while you still have a soul, newbie.

UNDERSTANDING ANGEL:  At every part of the game, there are aspects of the writing process to enjoy and to celebrate. From writing that rough draft, to editing, to querying, and to publishing and the sales and marketing you’ll have to do once the book is out in the world. Holding your finished book in your hands is immensely satisfying. You have done what few others in the history of the world have ever done. You have written and crafted a book. It’s not easy, there is heartbreak and consternation around every corner, but in the end, what we do is a noble endeavor and I wish you all the courage and the luck there is. One last piece of advice; try to avoid the CYNICAL DEVILS inside and outside of your own head.  n the end, they aren’t that helpful and they mostly only offer fear and hate anyway.  They also tend to smell bad.

About the Author:  Aaron Michael Ritchey is the author of Long Live the Suicide King, a finalist in the Reader’s Favorite contest. Kirkus Reviews calls the story “a compelling tale of teenage depression handled with humor and sensitivity.” His debut novel, The Never Prayer, was also a finalist in the Colorado Gold contest. His forthcoming works include a new young adult novel from Staccato Publishing and a six-book sci-fi/western series from WordFire Press. In shorter fiction, his G.I. Joe inspired novella was an Amazon bestseller in Kindle Worlds and his story The Dirges of Percival Lewand was nominated for a Hugo. He lives in Colorado with his wife and two goddesses posing as his daughters.

For more about him, his books, and how to overcome artistic angst, visit www.aaronmritchey.com. He’s on Facebook as Aaron Michael Ritchey and he tweets - @aaronmritchey.

Breaking the Rules: Game of Thrones

By Deb McLeod

So I’m reading A Game of Thrones.

I'm behind, I know. And I'll get to the TV series but not before I read all the books. Kudos to George R.R. Martin; it’s a rare book that sweeps me up and lets me forget I’m a writer. I swear I’m reading this book like I read books when I was nine or ten and was truly transported into another place and time.

When I put Thrones down for a breather, Writer-Me has to look at how he did it. How did he write such a good book, with characters I care about and in a structure that delightfully goes against the rules?

I’m reading the book twice as I go. Once to gobble it up and then back to analyze. I wanted to know how he hooked me so quickly with his characters and story. So I’ll share some observations about the first eleven pages, the prologue, which is another no-no we writers all hear about.

When we’re all famous we can write prologues but until then, it's the fastest way to say amateur. Well, I say, when we write them as well as this one is written, that’s when we get to write prologues.

****SPOILER ALERT – first eleven pages!****

What follows is an analysis of the eleven pages of prologue. I’ll break it down into its three scenes and look at the events and how he made me care about these characters.

The Scenes of the Prologue

Scene One: I’ll call it Dead Wildings. It’s roughly 1500 words long (four pages at approximately 375 words per page).

The characters: Three men of the Night’s Watch are outside the wall looking for a group of people called the Wildings. Ser Widmar Royce, the young leader of the group (the lordling) is on his first mission with something to prove. Will, the point of view character, who is known for his stealth and shows his common sense and Gared, the old soldier, forty years on the Night’s Watch.

What happens? Will has seen the dead bodies of the Wildings, but Ser Widmar needs proof. Gared thinks they should go back without proof but when Ser Widmar questions Will, it’s obvious they need to see the bodies rather than go back.

How does he make me care? The scene is in Will’s point of view. Will is the neutral party in the struggle between Ser Widmar and Gared. Ser Widmar is not someone the men respect or want to follow. It’s hard to take orders from a lordling you secretly laugh at. Gared claims the voice of experience when he gives his opinion that the Wildings froze to death. So we start out identifying with the common man against the boss.

But then Ser Widmar questions Will about what he saw and Will realizes he can’t say how the Wildings died. Gared insists they froze, but Ser Widmar’s questions force Will to see they couldn’t have frozen. And since he didn’t see any blood and it didn’t look like their weapons were used, maybe something else happened.

If you look where Martin places the reader here and how he shifts loyalty with the character dynamic in the first four pages you can see how he makes the reader care.

We’ve all had fools for bosses with something to prove, haven’t we? (It can’t just be me!) Ser Widmar is young, dressed in finery the soldiers laugh at. They call him the lordling. We identify with these men who are really cold and who feel they’ve completed their mission and only want to go home. They have a long journey ahead. Eight or nine days ride in the winter.

We have been Will in situations before. He doesn’t really want to get involved in the quarrel but when Ser Widmar questions him, as Will’s opinion of the man giving orders changes, so does ours. We see that, young as he is, the lordling is right and we respect Will for having enough of a mind of his own that he can change his opinion about someone.

And so the order is given to press on.

Props and devices:

• Description of Ser Widmar’s clothes, especially his “crowning glory”, a cloak of “sable, thick and black and soft as sin".
• The title Lordling
• “Hard to take orders from a man you laughed at in your cups.” Will’s thoughts about Ser Widmar. 
• Gared’s warning that an ice storm might be coming so they should go back.
• Ser Widmar contradicting Will that dead men tell no tales. He needs to see the dead and know how they died.
• The knowledge that Will had been a poacher before he was drafted into the Night’s Watch. It was either that or lose a hand.
• Will has a talent for sneaking.
• The twist that Ser Widmar turns out to be right.

Scene Two: See for Myself. This scene is three pages at about 1125 words.

What happens? Ser Widmar says he needs to see the dead for himself, so the three characters head towards where Will found their bodies. When they have to go on foot, Ser Widmar leaves Gared with the horses and orders that he light no fire. Gared almost argues but acquiesces. When Ser Widmar and Will get to the scene, the dead bodies are gone.

How does he make me care? The scene is set up so that Gared and Will know something is wrong. They can feel it in the night. Will says he’d never been so afraid. But Ser Widmar laughs at them. Then he orders Gared not to build a fire and in Gared’s frustration, he almost argues, but he acquiesces instead.

Ser Widmar’s horse is exactly wrong for the job and when the lordling complains that they should be going faster, Will grumps at him and asks him if he’d like to lead. Will’s common sense and worth to the mission come through here. Tensions are high between the men and the lordling’s inexperience is showing. Will dares to say that the longsword Ser Widmar carries might get tangled in the trees but Ser Widmar snaps at him. So they keep going.

When Will and Ser Widmar are on foot, Will sneaks silently toward the bodies, but Ser Widmar makes noise with “the soft metallic slither of the lordling’s ringmail” and his curses as the branches tangle with his longsword and cloak. Then comes the twist that when they get to the camp the bodies are gone.

We are immersed in the dynamic between the men and surprised when the bodies are gone. And we know that both Will and Gared sense something is off.

Props and devices:

• Again Martin uses the wardrobe and Ser Widmar’s inexperience. The longsword with jewels at its hilt, shining steel and brand new. Both his horse and his blade are ill-suited to what they have to do.
• But the brilliance of this scene is in the suspense.
• Gared insists there’s something wrong here and Ser Widmar scoffs.
• Will admits to the reader that he’s never felt so afraid.
• A wolf howls.
• The trees press close.
• When Ser Widmar orders no fire, Gared complains about all the things you want to keep at bay, though he acquiesces and we leave him behind in the darkness.
• Will sneaks toward the scene and Ser Gared makes enough noise to wake the dead.

Then, of course, the bodies are gone.  

Scene Three: Duel with The Others. This scene is also about three pages long at approximately 1125 words.

What happens? When Will sees the bodies are gone, he says to get down. But Ser Widmar laughs and orders him to get out from hiding, though Will can see the weapons haven’t been taken. Now there's really something wrong. Ser Widmar orders Will up a tree to look for the Wildings fire. Will climbs the tree and someone comes. Will watches Sir Widmar fight one of The Others, a ghost-like creature and Will doesn’t call out when he should. Ser Widmar is killed and after a long time Will comes down from the tree but Ser Widmar rises from the dead and wraps his dead hands around Will’s throat.

How does it make me care? We see the wisdom Will has to be afraid, and feel his frustration of having to obey Ser Widmar again. Will admits his fear and his hesitation to warn Ser Widmar when he thinks he sees something but isn’t sure. He doesn’t want to be laughed at again and the reader can sympathize with that. It’s getting colder and shadows begin to emerge. Ser Widmar puts up a valiant fight that is doomed from the start. Will fights with himself but chooses to stay silent and we might wonder what we would do in a situation like that. We watch as Ser Widmar is overwhelmed by The Others and killed. We wait with Will and creep back down the tree, only to have Ser Widmar rise from the dead. We care about Will by this point and at the end of the prologue he dies.

Props and devices:

• Ser Widmar laughs at Will so Will is hesitant to call out when he thinks he sees something.
• Will’s fear.
• The silence of first Other when he comes
• Ser Widmar’s bravery when he says, “Dance with me then.” And lifts his sword to fight the apparition.
• More Others come out to surround Ser Widmar and Will never calls out to him.
• When Will picks up Ser Widmar’s shattered sword, he will finish the mission and bring back proof.
• The last reference to Ser Widmar’s wardrobe in the final sentence of the prologue after his long, elegant hands brushed Will’s check, “then tightened around his throat.” “They were gloved in the finest moleskin and sticky with blood, yet the touch was icy cold.”

Martin has made the reader care about these characters and killed them off in the first eleven pages. Why read any further?

Because it's brilliant writing, that's why!
We read to know what happens to Gared and what The Others will do. In the opening sentences, Ser Widmar asks Gared and Will if they’re frightened of the dead and Gared says “Dead is dead… We have no business with the dead.” And Ser Widmar says “There are things to be learned from the dead.”

The reader can only assume that the thousands of pages that come after the prologue show just what business we do have with the dead, along with the intrigues of the living, in A Game of Thrones.

Of course the obvious reason to read on is the writing. Notice how each scene ends with a twist. How the suspense builds to the shock of identifying with a character only to have him die. Clearly, this is a fearless writer and we read to see what else he will do in a story that’s already caught the imagination and emotion of the reader.

In the next blog I’ll trace the prologue with a technique I just read about this morning (thank you Facebook) from Charlie Jane Anders: One Weird Trick for Cutting Down Your Novel where she suggests you take a scene and outline it backwards to check cause and effect by connecting each event in the scene with the word ‘because’. I thought that an interesting process for the revision place I’m in with The Julia Set, but decided to try it on an expert first. Stay tuned for that. 

About the Author: Deb McLeod, is a writer, creative writing coach and founder of The Writing Ranch. She has both an MFA and a BA in creative writing. She has been teaching and coaching for over ten years. Deb has published short fiction in anthologies and journals. She has written articles and creative nonfiction. Deb has been a professional blogger, tech writer, graphic artist and Internet marketing specialist.  

On Accepting Advice

By Donnell Ann Bell

~ No enemy is worse than bad advice. ~~ Sophocles

Every once in a while, people offer advice that really works. E.g., Look both ways before crossing the street, read warning labels on products and exercise three to five times a week to maintain a healthy weight. Those kinds of input I can use and appreciate. But some of the advice I’ve received of late leaves me shaking my head.

Two weekends ago, I attended my local library’s workshop in which a marketing guru offered authors and aspiring authors advice for today’s market. She said the days that authors sit alone in their offices and devote long hours to writing are gone. As a matter of fact, she added, authors should be focused ten percent on writing the book and ninety percent to its marketing. Twenty-four/eight, she insisted. Market your book twenty-four/eight.

This weekend I attended the Pikes Peak Writers Conference where the age-old subject of prologues came up again. An editor told the audience how much he hates prologues and that he skips right over them. Once again people who had paid good money to attend wrote furiously in their notebooks, most likely taking this man’s words to heart and perpetuating this controversy further. While I was thinking of Sandra Brown’s Envy or Robert Crais’s Two Minute Rule and two of the best prologues I’ve ever read in commercial fiction.

There’s a lot of lousy, subjective advice floating around out there—what’s more the experts are touting it.

If I have to devote ninety percent to marketing my books, I might as well hang it up right now. I didn’t get into this writing gig to market my wares like a gypsy in a caravan; I got into writing to tell my stories—to sit in my office alone a lot more than ten percent of the time.

Robert Crais once told me, “Sure you can write a prologue, just don’t write a bad one.”  If a book needs a prologue, it needs a prologue, and how a few paragraphs at the start of a book can cause such a vitriolic response is beyond me.

So because there’s so much misinformation and bad advice out there coming from people I should otherwise respect and rely on, I’ve decided to break down the ways I will accept advice in the future. One, if it doesn’t make sense, I will completely disregard it. Two, if it doesn’t save my life, refer back to rule number one.

About the Author: Donnell Ann Bell is the author of The Past Came Hunting and newly released Deadly Recall from Bell Bridge Books. Both books were nominated for the prestigious Golden heart from Romance Writers of America. As published novels, both books became Amazon Kindle Bestsellers, The Past Came Hunting reaching #6 on the overall paid list, Deadly Recall reaching #1. Her website is www.donnellannbell.com.