Sunday, April 7, 2013

Writing and Video Games: The Plot Connection

I am a gamer. This is no secret. I'm also a writer, and a reader, and so many other things.

But, at a glance, it seems to many people-- particularly those who don't play many games, and even to those who only play certain types of games-- it seems particularly unlikely that what I most enjoy about video games is, in many cases, the plot.

There are people who argue that, for video games, you don't need plot. The gameplay is what's most important.

And that's fine. There are games like that. I doubt most people playing Grand Theft Auto do it for any sort of story. Super Smash Bros is completely about beating up your friends. Halo multiplayer is widely popular.

But there are also movies where the plot doesn't matter. You always know that, in a James Bond movie, there will be explosions, high adventure, and a beautiful woman. I think my father would watch a James Bond movie just for those, and the fight sequences, even if there was nothing else involved.

There are books where the plot doesn't matter. Sounds really odd, doesn't it? It falls into two categories: literary fiction-- something that many college professors failed to pound the importance of into my skull-- and erotica, or literary porn.

Go on, take a few minutes. Think of some movies, some books, where you really didn't care for the point of it all. The Three Stooges. Fifty Shades of Gray. There are more. Think of some.

Just like you can think of those books and movies, I can think of games without plot. And yes, there are times when there's nothing else to shine through but the gameplay; when all I do, upon turning on a game, is play, and not think about evil-doers and people to protect. But usually, it's more fun with them.

In coming weeks, I'll be looking at a number of games from my own collection and discussing their plots, or lack of, in detail. Don't worry; due to my own limited budget, as well as a personal desire not to spoil things, I'll try to only review games from 2008 or earlier. Like books and movies, there's a limit to how long surprises can stay surprises.

I'll also try to connect these games to other medium: books, movies, tv, and so forth. Let's see how games measure up.

As a note, there will be no blog post next week; I have a full work schedule and will be out of town for two days. It's more important to write than to blog, if I have to make the choice.

Happy Writing,

-Alaina

Sunday, March 31, 2013

The Writing Commitment: Beta Readers

Beta readers are the first people, other than yourself, to read your work. Typically, these are people you trust. You give them your completed manuscript and a deadline, and they return it to you with comments.

This is harder than it sounds, for a large number of reasons.



The first time I sent my work to beta-readers, I sent it to six people, and asked for feedback in four months. Two got it back to me on time, one got it back to me a month late, and the other three didn't return it at all.

This is an issue; if you're counting on six views, and you only get three, it can be a problem. More is better, to a point. This can be more or less a problem depending on who you send your work to and what sort of environment you're sending it to them in.

If you're sending it to a writer in a critique group used to giving critiques, you'll probably get it back on time. If you're sending it to your friend who does fanfiction, it's a bit more iffy. If you're sending it to someone whose aunt has cancer, who just lost their job, who... I think you get the idea. When you send your work out, try to know the people you're sending it to for their ability to get it back. No point in sending it out and never getting it back.



When you send your work to beta-readers, you want people whose opinions you trust, but who you can ignore safely.

Four years ago, I let my family read my writing. They had been bothering me about it regularly for years, and I figured that would shut them up. I told them, very specifically, that it was an old story I was no longer working on. I did not need comments about it. And yet, my father criticized the subject matter, my mother told me she got confused at every third chapter, and to this day my sister still brings up how she would have written that plot. They are very difficult to ignore.

Now, some people's parents and relatives will be great beta-readers; they'll be able to shut up. But if your parents are like mine, or if your mother's going to do nothing but gush about how wonderful it is... you may want to pass.

Most of my beta-readers are fellow writers from an online writer's group. I have known all of them for over a year, and have read their writing, so I know their comments will be accurate, and I trust what they say. One beta-reader I had once suggested that the story would be better if I changed it from 'Woman finds lost child' to 'Zombie Apocalypse'. Not helpful; they don't beta-read for me any more, and I don't trust their opinion one bit.



You always want more than one beta-reader, but quantity is not always better than quality.

Here's the thing: by the time you send this out to people, it should already be edited. You'll want to argue with their comments. No, I'm not talking about spelling errors, I'm saying someone might find the love interest a bore. When this is published, you can't follow the reader around, yelling at them that they just don't get it, but it's easy to ignore the advice of one person.

If you have two beta-readers, and one of them loves the love interest, and the other finds him a bore, you can ignore the advice... but if they agree that it's stupid for him to turn into a mouse after his first kiss, listen. These are people you trust, remember. Agreeing.

If you have three people, and the third doesn't make any comment at all on the love interest, but also finds the mouse thing stupid, you really need to fix it.

And, of course, all of them will find at least one problem that the others missed.

The thing is, after a point, too many views can be confusing. Most of my beta-readers put their comments right into the computer document and send them back to me; I've compiled-- sometimes by hand-- all their comments into one document to read simultaneously. When two people disagreed on the very first sentence, I spent at least an hour trying to figure out if I should fix it, and if I should, whose advice I should agree with-- they both wanted it changed, but in different ways. The third didn't comment on that. If I had four comments on that sentence, all disagreeing, would it be easier? How about six? Eight? Sometimes, less is more.



There are more reasons for good beta-readers, but those are the first to come to mind for me. You'll find more as you go.

Happy Writing,

-Alaina

Sunday, March 24, 2013

The Writing Commitment: Editing

There are as many ways to edit as there are people; while different techniques will no doubt help, everyone will do it just a little bit differently. However, no matter what way you plan to edit, keep two things in mind.

One: There are dozens upon dozens of different editing techniques, and you should try as many as you can find or conceive of and have the resources to do. You may discover that doing it one way will allow you to catch one type of problem, and doing it another way will help you find another type. Try everything, try anything, once.

Two: Yes. You need to edit.

Some people are looking at point two and wondering why it's there, and others are looking at it and saying 'No. I don't need to edit. My manuscript is absolutely flawless, a best-seller, and editing will remove every bit of luster it has.'

To people in the second camp: calm down. Take a breath, a sip of water, and listen.

Nothing is ever as perfect as you remember it. If Stephen King, JK Rowling, and other literary greats need to edit, so do you. At the very least, you'll find typos; words spell check didn't catch, the time it accidentally turned your ellipses into a list, formatting errors. At worst, you may find that you wrote 'Chapter 16: I'm not sure how yet, but they kill the dragon and Brent loses his left arm. Chapter 17.' And I guarantee you, there is at least one published author who skipped a scene or a chapter in similar fashion and forgot about it. Sending that off would be a little embarrassing.

Besides, here's the first tip I'm going to give you, something recommended by Stephen King and supported by lots of others: put your story away and don't touch it for six months.

Yes, you heard me. And I'm a complete hipocrite, because I've never followed this advice in my life. By the time I finish a story, I've already got a little list in my head of things that need fixing. Clear Cut, which has had partial requests, has a character whose identity is a secret and unknown for half the story. I didn't figure out how key that identity was until almost 20,000 words in. My first edit, I added clues to that identity, so people would be able to spot it. I added foreshadowing for all the evil events that would occur later. I made sure my characters were doing things, not just talking heads, in scenes with a lot of dialogue. I tried to add senses to scenes: instead of just seeing the place, they were smelling the burning torches, wishing the stew had more salt, and trying to touch the dirty floor as little as possible.


Typically, here's how my editing process goes:

I finish the story... we'll say it's done at 100,000 words (100k for short). I celebrate, eat a candy bar, and relax.

A week later, I read through it and fix everything. This means typos and things I've already thought about. I may decide to cut something or add something, but all told, the story will finish this edit around where it started: 98k.

I double-space it and print it out. Then, on the kitchen table or my desk, kneeling next to my bed or lying on the floor, I read it. You would not believe how different things look on paper. Clear Cut had cross-outs and insertions, mostly cross-outs, on the first 96 pages... and page 97 was five lines long. Entire pages, and chapters, were crossed out.

Then I type these up on the computer again. My insertions, on paper, are usually no more than a sentence; when they're longer, they tend to be messages such as 'You need Harry and Ron to have a conversation about cookies' or 'Foreshadow the upcoming death', where I get creative. However, I cut far more than I add in; by the end of this, it's probably at 80k, and I've been doing this for about two months.

This is when I send it out to friends to beta-read and try to forget about it; typically, I'll give them a time limit of 3-4 months to return it in. I try to forget about it, but honestly, this is when I typically read it over and over again, trying to write queries and a synopsis. (More on beta-reading in another post.)

When I get their comments, I compile their comments into one document and read through it, reading all their comments side on with it. This inevitably leads to-- guess what?-- more changes. Again, usually cutting. That 80k document will probably end up at 79k now.

Last time through, I read it aloud. Here's my rules for the read-aloud: I can't do it while listening to music, or anyone's around to make me feel self-conscious. I also have to stop whenever I realize I'm tuning out my own voice. Usually, there are dozens of 'That sounds so stupid! It should be said like this!' moments, and almost every time, it cuts words out. By the end, it's dropped to 75k.


Those four techniques-- things I've already thought about, printing it, beta-readers, and reading it aloud-- work well for me. I've been 'nitpicking' it for quite a while now, and currently-- under the advice of writer friends-- I'm not allowed to open my current manuscript again until July, so I can (hopefully) have an impartial view of it.

Keep in mind: these four techniques are good to start with, but you can look for others. The first thing is something no one's ever told me to do, but I find my other edits are less effective if I'm constantly distracted by comon speling mitsakes. The other things are widely recommended. Also, I don't outline my stories before writing them.

But you will likely have a shorter story after editing. In Stephen King's On Writing, he mentions that-- early on, before he was published-- an editor told him a second draft is a first drat -10%. As soon as he followed that advice, he had far more success. I'm willing to admit that, at my current stage of writing, much more of what I write gets cut than what he'd do, but that's okay. What's left is better than before.

And sometimes, putting a piece of work aside and ignoring it really is the best thing to do.

Happy Writing,

-Alaina

Monday, March 18, 2013

The Writing Commitment: Synopsis

I'm just going to start off by saying, right now, that I don't know what the plural of 'synopsis' is. I've seen synopsi, synopsises... I just know that spell check doesn't like any of them. Feel free to tell me what it is, if you know, in the comments.

Anyway.

The synopsis is important... and it's not important. It all depends on a huge number of factors.

IF YOU WANT AN AGENT... Synopsises may or may not matter at all. Nelson Literary never asks people to submit synopsises. If you read that agency's blog for a period of time, Kristin Nelson will mention that it's rare to see a well-written synopsis. However, BG Literary wants to see a synopsis with the query letter. Both of these agencies represent a large number of clients, including many award-winners and best-sellers, so you can't say anything about agency quality by their requirements. However, you should have one ready to go. My first synopsis was written in a panic shortly after my second partial request, when the agent wanted to see 50 pages and the (nonexistent) synopsis.

IF YOU WANT A TRADITIONAL PUBLISHER... Synopsises will probably matter. Agents will help you write and polish them, if you have an agent, but the overall synopsis will be your work. Synopsises are useful tools that allow even people who haven't read the book to have ideas about who the characters are and what occurs in it, which means they'll have easier times when discussing, marketing, and selling your book if you have a good one.

IF YOU ARE SELF PUBLISHED... A synopsis likely won't matter. In fact, many readers-- myself included-- will likely consider a full synopsis to spoil the book.

None of this, of course, answers the key question you may be wondering about right now:

WHAT IS A SYNOPSIS?

To put it bluntly, a synopsis is your book if it were two pages long. Actually, two pages might be pushing it; the most common request I've seen is for a one-page synopsis. Some are fine with two page, and before I started actively researching synopsis-needing agents, I heard of agents who would be okay with five-page synopsises... but I have a list of 50 agents I can submit to, and none of them would be okay with 5 pages.

Now, writing a synopsis is hard. I've found a lot of advice on doing it, but here are the key things you need to know.

First, decide who your main character is. If you have multiple viewpoints, many characters, choose one. Just one. Trying to do otherwise will give everyone involved a headache.

Try to start with a quick description-- maybe two or three sentences-- of who that character is. Then dive into everything else. Go in order-- I don't care if your story is written in flashbacks, start at the first event and keep going. Write in present tense. Name all of the key characters. Mention every major event. Include how it affects them.

This is all harder than it sounds, and will be doubly so because you're no doubt attached to your story. Try writing one or two synopsises about other stories to practice: the first Harry Potter, The Wizard of Oz, or even a movie like Avatar. Something you know really well. For examples, go to the following link; that has lots of practical advice, as well as a number of sample synopsises... but it may not be the most useful link, in many regards.


For more solid, practical and condensed advice, I'd recommend going here: http://www.stellacameron.com/contrib/synopsis.html

And, to be perfectly honest, the advice that helped me most was not about synopsises. By the time I found it, I had six or eight bad drafts, so I knew what I was doing, but this helped me put it to practical use. I'd recommend you start with the one-sentence pitch. http://blog.nathanbransford.com/2010/05/one-sentence-one-paragraph-and-two.html

That's all from me for now.

Happy Writing,

-Alaina

Sunday, March 10, 2013

The Writing Commitment: Query Letters

A query letter is a one-page letter to show your interest. You have 250, 300, at most 350 words; 400 is really pushing it. In that letter, you have to include the following:

A nice greeting
Your name
Some information about you
What your story is about
Why anyone cares
Story title
Story length
Story Genre
A nice closing

Doesn't sound so hard, does it? At least... until you try to write one.

I'll be blunt. I suck at query letters. I have at least forty drafts for one story's letter, and even the best is somewhere in the mediocre territory. So instead of giving you much of my own advice, I'll give you advice from other people.

Miss Snark was an anonymous literary agent and blogger. Her advice is old-- some of the things she says about electronic queries and e-books can be safely disregarded-- but most of it is still sound. I'd love to link you to the specific place she said this, but alas, only the quote remains in my 8-page file of query advice. “Give me six sentences of no more than ten words each of WHO is doing WHAT to WHOM and WHY I should give a rat's ass.”

Miss Snark is probably in one extreme on query letters; I'm physically incapable of writing that. I've tried. Try it yourself a few times. Here's the most important thing, though: you need to make them want to read it.

There are dozens upon dozens of formulas out there; there are millions of guidelines; there's advice. Try it. Follow it. If you know the rules, you can break them, but it's good to know how much agents hate receiving colored paper and necklaces in with their letters.

Why do you want a good query letter, though?

See, a lot of agents only want the letter. Some get the letter and 5-10 pages of the story; some get the letter and a short synopsis; but all get the letter.

Nelson Literary Agency-- with several New York Times bestselling authors as clients, and only two agents-- got about 32,000 of those letters last year. Between the two of them, they took 17 clients. (Their full stats for 2012 can be found here: http://pubrants.blogspot.com/2013/01/2012-year-end-stats.html )

What do you think your odds are?

Now.

Half of those query letters weren't even in the running, really; they were people who didn't read the guidelines. Every agent has standards. If you wrote an erotic mystery, and you send it to an agent who represents picture books, you'd deserve that rejection, and yes, that DOES happen. Other people included in those half didn't put enough effort in.

Remember, there are 31,999 other people trying for the same agent. If you can't spell, don't follow directions, or prove to be annoying, why should that agent accept you? There are enough others out there.

Step one: do more research than just me.
Step two: follow the directions.
Step three: make it interesting.

The rest is up to you. Good luck.

Happy Writing,

-Alaina

Sunday, March 3, 2013

The Writing Commitment: What Do Agents Do?

A literary agent is a very, very valuable person to have on your side. You can get published without an agent.

An agent is someone who knows the editors at a lot of different publishing houses, and can call them up and say, “I think you'll like this.” And they'll say, “Cool. Let me set aside these eighty books written by complete strangers to read yours, because I trust you.” Without an agent, your book is one of those eighty.

And then the publisher says, “We'd like to buy this. We'll give you three pieces of string and a muffin.” Only they put that in sixty pages of contract. And the agent is used to reading those contracts, and calls them up and goes “A ha ha ha ha no. You're giving us cash, buddy.” And they do. But when you get that contract.... good luck.

Let's say you found it and you're getting money. The publisher goes, “We'll give you a $5,000 advance.” The agent goes, “No way buddy, we want $30,000.” And so do you. The difference is, the agent gets $15,000 and the unagented writer gets $10,000. And yes, it's been proven that agented writers get better deals, everything else being equal.

The cover art for your novel is a bare-breasted chick. You call the publisher and go, “This is a middle-grade fantasy novel!” And they tell you, “We know what sells. You don't. Go away.” The agent calls them up and goes, “Do you think this is appropriate for a middle grade fantasy? Children that age want swords and sorcery. Why don't you look for a cat, since this has talking cats?” And the agented author winds up with a cover of a spooky castle, but that's okay, it takes place in a castle.

I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

There are good agents, and there are bad agents. For a list of bad agents, scam artists, and warning signs, check out Writer Beware ( http://www.sfwa.org/for-authors/writer-beware/ ). However, here's your most basic clue: if they ask you to pay anything-- ANYTHING-- run. 99% of the time, if they want you to pay, they're a bad agent.

Agents get paid when you do. Remember that $15,000 advance I mentioned earlier? Agents, on average, get 10-15%. They'd get $1500-2250 of that. Still more money than you get unagented.

So how do you get an agent?

There are several steps. Not all agents go through all the steps; on average, though, you can expect to do one or more of these things-- which I'll cover later.

Expect future posts on:
Query Letters
Synopsis: What It Is, Why It Matters
Rejection Letters: The different Types
Partial and Full Manuscript Requests: What They Mean
and maybe more!
 
Happy Writing,

-Alaina

Sunday, February 24, 2013

The Writing Commitment: The Difference Between Self- and Traditionally-Published

Imagine you and a group of friends are are in a strange city on a holiday. Every restaurant is closed for the holiday, and you can't find anywhere to eat. It's almost noon. You remember seeing signs earlier for some sort of event in a park, so you go there... only to discover there are two events. Due to annoyances of timing, there are two cooking competitions scheduled for the same park at the same time, and you pause between them, taking them in. They don't open for another hour, so you have plenty of time-- as your stomach starts to growl-- to choose.

On the right are twenty tables in a neat square, each with two people standing behind them, tending to their hugely over-sized pots and adding last-minute ingredients. The cooks are all wearing aprons, have their hair tied back or otherwise out of the way, and are very nicely dressed. A quick read of the sign posted by the entrance tells you that these are the recent graduates from Hungry Harry's Cooking School. For $20, you can sample a cup from each of their chili's, then fill out a form on your favorite. The person with the most popular chili will get $5,000 towards opening their own restaurant.

On the left are at least a hundred tables, arranged in haphazard squiggles. Some tables have one person standing behind them; others have five or six. The cooks range from teens to grandmothers, some with hair tied back, others in hats, some with it loose; they range from wearing three-piece-suits to bathrobes. Each table has one or two pots on it, some very professional, others chipped and cracked but still holding. A quick read of the sign tells you that every entrant paid $1. You'll be given a mug for $5, and then you can wander the rows, sampling chili at will. Some people are giving away their chili, others are charging a nickel or even a quarter a ladle. When you leave, write down the name of your favorite chili, and the most popular person will get half the profits towards opening their own restaurant.

Which cook-off will you go to?

For those who haven't guessed right now, yes, the cook-off is a metaphor for the publishing industry. Right now, there are two main forms of publishing.

Traditional Publishing is when an author gets a publisher to publish their book. This is a long process, involving many negotiations. In the end, the publisher pays the author for the privilege of publishing that book, puts it in stores everywhere, and-- in return-- gets a large cut of the profits.

Self Publishing is when an author goes it alone. This is a much faster process. The author either pays someone to help or does every step themselves, advertising, creating cover art, getting it into bookstores, and covering the costs of doing so on their own. However, the author gets 100% of the profits, and can be published in a matter of days or weeks, not years.

Which of these is better?

A lot of people are saying the publishing industry is dead; I am not one of them. Yes, self-publishing is alive and well; however, the problem is the lack of gatekeepers.

If you went to the cook-off on the right, you were guaranteed to get a chef who had been to cooking school. Of those 40 chefs, one or two is probably lazy-- used canned ingredients, found a recipe online, didn't practice-- but the vast majority are good. To get there, they went through several classes, pleased several people, and spent a lot of time cooking.

To get traditionally published, you must do much the same. None of the major American publishers will accept unsolicited manuscripts, so most authors have an agent; an agent is a person that publishers trust to have good taste. Without an agent, when you submit your manuscript to any publisher, it will have to go through roughly six rounds of editors to get approved, and if any one rejects you, you get no further. With an agent, you still have to please one or two editors, but getting an agent is a challenge. A professional will edit it again for you (or suggest improvements to your recipe), a professional will do the cover art (or make sure you have an apron and your hair is out of the food), and a professional will advertise for you (or make sure they know you went to cooking school).

If you went to the cook-off on the left, you have no idea what you're getting. Everyone who couldn't get into cooking school is there. Sure, some people were just too young, too poor, or just didn't want to go to cooking school... but most are the cook-school rejects. Still, there might be some good chili in there.

If you self-publish, there is no way to let anyone know your manuscript is better than anyone else's. Everything, and everyone, is out there... and there's no way to know who's who. Some people have good presentation, good cover art, good grammar and spelling (they didn't need to be taught about aprons and hair). Some people are really good cooks, but only cook traditional Chinese food (you might have a great story, but if the publishers don't think they can sell it and make money, they won't buy it). And there might be some wonderful stories, but the author doesn't understand grammar or spelling very well (chili with hair in it, anyone?).

In amidst all this stuff, there are a few handfuls of people who could get published traditionally, a few chefs who went to cooking school years ago but couldn't afford their own restaurants. But, on average, 1/1000 self-published books are good quality. On average, 950/1000 traditionally published books are good quality. There may be accounting for taste, or genre, or anything else... but if you go traditional publishing, you are more likely to get somewhere.

And both places have the same eventual goal, don't they?

I'm trying for traditional publishing. If you're not, that's okay, but I'm going to talk about it now.

Future posts will cover query letters, synopsizes, and other minutiae.

Are you trying to get published yet, either the traditional way or self-publishing? Why? If you're not, are you planning to in the future?

Happy Writing,

-Alaina