What a reader can do

Email from my writing partner:

I had a note from the woman I pitched Embattled to. She said:

I bought your friend’s book, Embattled.  I had to start the book over when I hit page 14.  I was very confused.  Think I am over the hump now…

I wrote back. I said that this was a problem you had tried to deal with right from the beginning but if she could get past the first part she'd enjoy it and that your other books in the series don't have that problem and that I admire your writing. I told her you paint pictures with words.

This was not good, not good at all. I thought I’d solved the problem, but if readers still couldn’t get through the first few pages of Embattled, they’d never finish it, let alone go on to read the rest of the series.

My dilemma now is how to fix it. Do I rewrite the first few chapters? Do I rewrite the whole book? I’m finished the series and my new work in progress is something entirely different. At the moment, my head is not back with Embattled and I don’t know what to do. I can’t see any fix in this.                     

Email from my writing partner:

She wrote back:

Darlene might want to revise her book and add a prologue…

That was my thought when I returned to the beginning.  All confusion could be remedied with a short prologue with the male character and his sister giving a bit of what is going on before you reach that page where it makes sense.  There does not have to be much…She might be losing a lot of readers by not grabbing them at the get go… 

OMG! Why hadn’t I thought of that? This could be a simple solution to what seemed to be a complex problem.

Email to my writing partner:

I'm struggling with a “fix." I’m not keen on a prologue as some readers skip those. And as Robert Sawyer says, “Start where the story starts.” Maybe I could add this as the first scene of chapter one. Trouble is, I'm not quite sure how to do it. 

Here's what I've come up with so far - pathetic attempt, but a start ... maybe. 

Email from my writing partner:

Yes! That works.

Encouraging words, but we’ve both worked on the book for such a long time, I’m not sure we’re seeing this as clearly as we should.

Email to my writing partner:

Do you think the lady who's reading my book would take a look and say if she thought it would help or not? 

Email from my writing partner:

Do you want me to send this to her? I'm sure she'd be thrilled to think you cared about her opinion.

I ask her to please send it. I’m so wrapped up in this now that I don’t just want to know her opinion; I need to know her opinion.

Email from my writing partner:

She says:

That is perfect!  What works is that now you know when Em starts bouncing that it makes sense…  One suggestion:  Change it from Chapter 1 to Prologue.

Hope this helps!

Yes! It helps. Actually, it’s a minor miracle for this author.

Thank you to this reader and all who are so helpful to authors.

What a reader can do

Email from my writing partner:

I had a note from the woman I pitched Embattled to. She said:

I bought your friend’s book, Embattled.  I had to start the book over when I hit page 14.  I was very confused.  Think I am over the hump now…

I wrote back. I said that this was a problem you had tried to deal with right from the beginning but if she could get past the first part she'd enjoy it and that your other books in the series don't have that problem and that I admire your writing. I told her you paint pictures with words.

This was not good, not good at all. I thought I’d solved the problem, but if readers still couldn’t get through the first few pages of Embattled, they’d never finish it, let alone go on to read the rest of the series.

My dilemma now is how to fix it. Do I rewrite the first few chapters? Do I rewrite the whole book? I’m finished the series and my new work in progress is something entirely different. At the moment, my head is not back with Embattled and I don’t know what to do. I can’t see any fix in this.                     

Email from my writing partner:

She wrote back:

Darlene might want to revise her book and add a prologue…

That was my thought when I returned to the beginning.  All confusion could be remedied with a short prologue with the male character and his sister giving a bit of what is going on before you reach that page where it makes sense.  There does not have to be much…She might be losing a lot of readers by not grabbing them at the get go… 

OMG! Why hadn’t I thought of that? This could be a simple solution to what seemed to be a complex problem.

Email to my writing partner:

I'm struggling with a “fix." I’m not keen on a prologue as some readers skip those. And as Robert Sawyer says, “Start where the story starts.” Maybe I could add this as the first scene of chapter one. Trouble is, I'm not quite sure how to do it. 

Here's what I've come up with so far - pathetic attempt, but a start ... maybe. 

Email from my writing partner:

Yes! That works.

Encouraging words, but we’ve both worked on the book for such a long time, I’m not sure we’re seeing this as clearly as we should.

Email to my writing partner:

Do you think the lady who's reading my book would take a look and say if she thought it would help or not? 

Email from my writing partner:

Do you want me to send this to her? I'm sure she'd be thrilled to think you cared about her opinion.

I ask her to please send it. I’m so wrapped up in this now that I don’t just want to know her opinion; I need to know her opinion.

Email from my writing partner:

She says:

That is perfect!  What works is that now you know when Em starts bouncing that it makes sense…  One suggestion:  Change it from Chapter 1 to Prologue.

Hope this helps!

Yes! It helps. Actually, it’s a minor miracle for this author.

Thank you to this reader and all who are so helpful to authors.

Authenticity

As writers, we’re told:

            Write what you know.

            Draw from your own experience.

            Research.

We do all of that and then … we receive a note like this from a reader.

This question has to do with your last book, EMBROILED (I'm still reading it). Emily's character intrigues me. Do you happen to know anyone who's visited a shrink before? I ask because Emily's sessions with David are vivid. Engaging. I can't help but feel that this goes beyond the imaginary. But then, that is what a wonderful writer does, right? Carry the reader along.

No, I don’t know anyone who’s been to a shrink. No, I’ve never been to one myself. So, if I’ve truly created an authenticity for my readers (as this one assures me I have) where did that ability to do so come from?

Perhaps the portrayal of a patient with her psychiatrist is influenced by memories of such events in books I’ve read or movies and television shows I’ve watched. I think that could be an explanation, but I believe that would be only a partial answer.

Then this conversation occurs.

Discussing a favorite movie, one of our friends commented on a key scene. “Then the character said exactly what I expected her to say.” For him that was a defining moment, the key to the character and the plot. If she had said anything else, it would have thrown him out of the scene and back into his theatre seat.

What does it mean to create an Emily, a character that readers find so real?

What does it mean to have characters that “stay in character” like the one in the movie?

How do we create the characters who take the reader into other worlds?

We can describe physical features. We can show their reactions to the world around them. We can have other characters react to them.

But, I believe the most powerful tool the writer has is dialogue. What characters say, how they say it, their tone and body language show the reader who and what they really are.

To create that kind of perfection, the author must know his or her characters intimately. The motives that drive them, their fears, their dreams, all of their idiosyncrasies, as well as the more mundane details of birthdays, family relationships, childhood experiences, teen traumas, friends and lovers. Most of this the reader will never know, but the soul of the character, as the author knows him or her, will leach into the novel and into the hearts and minds of the reader.

Working with Emily through four novels, I’ve come to know her intimately. I know how she would react in most any situation. I know what would make her angry or sad. I know what would set her on the offensive and when she’d cower away from danger. I know that she’s a passionate advocate for education, that she abhors war, that she’s a chocoholic … And I know that her choice of a psychiatrist wouldn’t be random. She’d walk out on one if she thought he was a quack, or his personality clashed with hers, or he lacked compassion. Emily would want an upfront, no nonsense kind of person and that’s what she’d get.

So now, I’m not only intimately connected with Emily, I’m familiar with her doctor and that’s what the scenes are built from. That’s what creates a situation that does not allow for a false note and provides a credible story for the reader.

Knowing their characters as well as they know their friends and family allows the author to create authenticity through the actions and dialogue they engage in.

Authenticity

As writers, we’re told:

            Write what you know.

            Draw from your own experience.

            Research.

We do all of that and then … we receive a note like this from a reader.

This question has to do with your last book, EMBROILED (I'm still reading it). Emily's character intrigues me. Do you happen to know anyone who's visited a shrink before? I ask because Emily's sessions with David are vivid. Engaging. I can't help but feel that this goes beyond the imaginary. But then, that is what a wonderful writer does, right? Carry the reader along.

No, I don’t know anyone who’s been to a shrink. No, I’ve never been to one myself. So, if I’ve truly created an authenticity for my readers (as this one assures me I have) where did that ability to do so come from?

Perhaps the portrayal of a patient with her psychiatrist is influenced by memories of such events in books I’ve read or movies and television shows I’ve watched. I think that could be an explanation, but I believe that would be only a partial answer.

Then this conversation occurs.

Discussing a favorite movie, one of our friends commented on a key scene. “Then the character said exactly what I expected her to say.” For him that was a defining moment, the key to the character and the plot. If she had said anything else, it would have thrown him out of the scene and back into his theatre seat.

What does it mean to create an Emily, a character that readers find so real?

What does it mean to have characters that “stay in character” like the one in the movie?

How do we create the characters who take the reader into other worlds?

We can describe physical features. We can show their reactions to the world around them. We can have other characters react to them.

But, I believe the most powerful tool the writer has is dialogue. What characters say, how they say it, their tone and body language show the reader who and what they really are.

To create that kind of perfection, the author must know his or her characters intimately. The motives that drive them, their fears, their dreams, all of their idiosyncrasies, as well as the more mundane details of birthdays, family relationships, childhood experiences, teen traumas, friends and lovers. Most of this the reader will never know, but the soul of the character, as the author knows him or her, will leach into the novel and into the hearts and minds of the reader.

My daughter hates my book

“Argh! I hate this!” It’s my daughter speaking.

My heart sinks. She’s reading my first novel. Surely, it’s not that bad. “Why?” I ask. Do I really want to hear the answer?

“It’s a great story, Mom. I’m totally into it and then, bam, I read a part and I see you. Jolts me right out of the book.”

Well, that makes sense, I guess, since this reader knows me so well. But I start to worry a bit when I hear similar comments from close friends. Oh, no, I think. I’ve done something terribly wrong.

Or have I? My daughter’s comment gets me thinking. If we knew the authors of the books we read, would we be saying the same thing? To what extent do authors reveal themselves in their fiction? Can authors completely distance themselves from their writing? Would we want them to?

Recently Jim Ainsworth wrote a piece on Venture Galleries (http://ow.ly/kNT4c) about the importance of making connections with others. He quoted Professor and writer John Dufresne  who says, “A book should offer hope. It should lift up the reader. It should give the reader a reason to live—should he need one. Life is not easy for any of us, but the pain of loneliness is often unbearable. The writer is saying, among other things, ‘You’re not alone.’”

And what better way can a writer say, “You are not alone,” than by imbuing their stories with the strength and gift of their presence?