Editing: The Art of Self-Surgery

editingYou know that scene in Master and Commander where Dr. Maturin has to fish a bullet out of his own belly?  That’s about how I think of self editing.  It’s messy, painful, and exhausting, but ugh, it’s gotta be done.

Between smugly typing THE END and hyperventilatingly clicking SEND, you will (or at least should) spend many many hours self editing.  How these hours are spent varies from person to person, like all other aspects of writing.  After a nice long rest of at least a month, here’s how my editing process usually goes down.

First, I set a deadline.  I, my father, my children, and all of my brothers absolutely require a non-negotiable deadline to do anything at all.  If it’s not pressing, it’s not happening.  I give myself enough time to get through the thing (typically a two to one ration of editing to drafting time), but not much wiggle room.

As part of my deadline setting process, I start with a fast read-through.  I try to finish in just a few days, at about the same pace I would read a really engrossing novel.  This allows me to take a big picture view of what I’m working with, making it easier to see any plot holes, dangling storylines, sudden changes in eye color, whatever.  I take detailed notes throughout this reading so I know exactly what the problems are.

Once I have my list of issues, I set a realistic deadline and get to work.  Working outside of chronology, I usually start with the easier problems first, the things that I can already see the answers for.  This allows me to work- and again immerse myself in the world- while still devoting a large portion of my brain power to thinking about the problems that I don’t have the solutions for yet.  As I did when compiling problems, I write down any and all solutions I can come up with- no matter how stupid they may seem.  Eventually, I can usually sift through enough pyrite to find a few good nuggets.

Hopefully, by the time I work my way through the simpler problems, I’ll have come up with the glorious, surprising, satisfying solutions to the trickier problems, too.  But the reality is that I typically spend about a quarter of my editing time fixing the easy issues, another quarter of my time sprinkled here and there just trying to work my way toward the harder solutions, and then a quarter on the bigger issues once I have those solutions, and the final quarter on the clean-up at the end.

This ‘final’ cleaning process is done chronologically, starting at the beginning and working my way slowly toward the end.  I tend to require the same tweaks in everything I write, and so I’ve developed a to-do list that doesn’t vary much from MS to MS.

Fix spelling and grammar.  Bit of a no-brainer, but when I’m pounding out a quick draft, I apparently have no brain.

Skim out crutch words.  Your list of crutch words will be different, but mine includes: suddenly; up; again; back; and like a bazillion others.  The internet is rife with lists of words to seek and destroy in your manuscript, so if you’re still not sure, just run a Google search and get that Find function ready.  (Also, Scrivener has a really cool Word Frequency thing under the Project -> Text Statistics tab, which makes it super easy to know exactly what words you use the most.)

Assess adjectives and adverbs.  I’m a descriptor junkie.  My speech is peppered with them, as is my writing (especially these informal blog posts you all suffer through).  In drafting, nearly every sentence has some useless fluff about exactly why this character was squinting, or exactly how shiny that character’s hair is.  Most of these get snipped, so those of you who have read my work and seen how many get left behind have some idea of how many start out. (Yikes!)

Beautify language.  In drafting, I am a huge fan of SVO.  She- kicked- his face.  He- ate- a sandwich.  These sentences- bore- readers.  Readers don’t want to see the same structure over and over and over.  So I take pains to vary sentence structure and length.  I clarify.  I remove unnecessary descriptions and add the parts I missed.  I read prose and dialog out loud and fix up the awkward tongue-twisters that somehow sneak their snickering way into my stories every single time, blast you silly sibilants!

And the newest addition to my final clean-up:

Change all double spaces to single spaces.  I know, I’m very late to the party.  But if there’s anybody else out there who has terror-laced nightmares of Mrs. Hardman in the fourth grade standing over your shoulder as you tentatively tap out your book report on- I kid you not- the typewriter, let’s all just take a deep breath together and move on into the 21st century.  Edit -> Find. Replace. Simple.

Once I’ve completed this cleaning process, I do another quick-as-possible reading.  If something isn’t up to snuff, I go through all the same steps again until it is.  Once everything is to my satisfaction, I start lining up beta readers, with the understanding that I will be going through the whole document again once I get notes back from everyone on all the bits I missed.  Ah, what joy.

Personally, I’m not a huge fan of editing, but I understand the appeal.  You get to massage your ugly draft into something beautiful; you can tune the language and deepen the meanings you only hinted at in draft mode; you can work in the foreshadowing and setup for that killer plot twist you came up with three-fifths of the way through the novel; you can seem like an intelligent person who actually knows how to spell.  Editing can be awesome!  So grab that red pen with ruthless delight.  As fantastic as your draft is, you’re about to make it a thousand times better.

Happy writing!

(PS- While editing this post, I nixed over a hundred words in adjectives, adverbs, and descriptive clauses.  Haha, I have a problem.)

Growing Up

We are deep in the bowels of winter, with the weather dropping fast to  -30°F/ -34°C.  At times like this, I pretty much become a hermit; I mean, I’m already a hermit, but now I don’t even go in my yard.  And one of my favorite things to do in my hermitage is start planning for spring.  (Kind of pathetic, I know.)  I plot out my garden.  I contemplate plans for the property.  And I think about livestock.

One of the best things about spring is going down to the feed shop and bringing home a madly peeping cardboard box of pine shavings and baby birds.  Gosh, I love chicks.  They’re terribly fragile things, all hunger and hollow bones and soft down, but they’re unbelievably cute little buggers.chick

Last year, since we knew we’d be gone for the summer, we only got two little pullets instead of our usual haul of two pullets (read: egg birds) and a dozen or so Cornish cross (read: meat birds).  I get a visibly different breed of pullets each year so that I know at a glance how old a bird is, and this year we went with the red sex-links.  They came home as freaking adorable little ginger powder puffs.

But hardly more than a week later, I started to notice pin feathers coming in, rimming their wings, their nubby little tails.  By the time we left on our trip, they were well into gawky adolescence, and then three months later, I came home to this:


Bwah?  What happened to my powder puffs???

But my shock quickly turned into delight when just a few weeks later, they started pooping out eggs.  I cannot eat cuteness.  Eggs are much better.

I’m not saying that pets like cats, which provide me no eatenings, aren’t wonderful.  But these birds are not pets.  As much as I enjoy them, they are stupid, smelly, evil-eyed neo-dinos and the whole point of my keeping them is for meat and eggs.  Chicks provide me with neither.  Growth and change, as in so many aspects in life, are good.

The early life of a manuscript is much like the early life of a chicken.  Just as I wouldn’t really want my chicks to stay chicks forever, I don’t really want my early drafts to stay immature forever.  Assuming your literary goals are anything beyond the personal catharsis of writing (which is a totally legit goal), a story must change and evolve for it to reach its full potential and achieve those goals.  A story that stays in first draft mode forever, adorable and joyful as it may be, will never make it off your desk.

I used to make only the most superficial of edits to my beloved manuscript.  (Yes, there was only one at the time.)  I might alter the dialog a little, or clean up the prose a bit.  But I would never have considered anything deeper than that.  If I found there was a plot hole, I’d patch it over with even more bad writing, seaming it up with poor motivations, unrealistic character actions, and nonsensical ‘traditions’ designed expressly to prop up the rest of the stagnant mess.  If I found one of my characters was only there because I thought they were cool, or a scene didn’t need to happen but I really liked the setting in which it took place, or any of a thousand other instances of self-gratifying excuses for hack work- then I’d find some reason, any reason at all, to double down and dig that grave a little deeper.  I spun wheels in that rut for ten years, actively stunting my own story’s growth in a stilted homage to fear and nostalgia.

It shouldn’t be that way.  The first draft is an opportunity to get all thoughts down on the page, no matter how stupid.  The second draft should be the opportunity to start hammering the stupidity, and all the glittery bits in between, into something lovely and coherent.  Growing pains are to be expected.  Sometimes you won’t feel sure if you’re making the poor thing better or worse.  But the change is good.  The change is necessary.  Editing is what makes takes a bad (or mediocre or even good) piece and makes it better.

Growth in a chicken takes time and energy, and the careful instructions coded over four billion years of trying new things.  Plan the changes; cull; experiment; be brave.  And then give your beautiful manuscript the time and the work needed to be its very best.

Do you find yourself stuck in an editing rut?  Picking endlessly at the same sentences without really changing anything?  Next week, I’ll talk about my editing process- how I plan it, what I look for, how I decide I’m done- and I’d love to hear about yours as well.  Join me next Monday, and until then, happy writing (and editing)!

Receiving Negative Feedback

critiqueA few years ago, I sent a novel out to some beta readers, smug in its excellence.  Normally, I’m a total mess when I have novels out, but I was pretty sure this one was flippin’ fantastic.  In another week or two, the raving praise would start rolling in.

Not quite.  One beta liked it, another was meh, several didn’t even get back to me- and one darling boy tore it apart, front to back.  He said it was cliché and meandering, the characters petty and unrelateable, and that I was lazy.  Lazy.  But thank goodness he told me.  After a few weeks of smarting, I realized he was right.

Giving someone negative feedback isn’t the funnest thing you’ll ever do, and neither is receiving it.  We get awfully attached to our stories and sometimes a critique of our work can feel like an attack on ourselves.  Rest assured, it’s not.  As we talked about last week, it’s important to know when there are problems with our story, especially the kind of problems that we don’t notice ourselves.

When someone gives you feedback, any feedback good or bad, it’s the greatest kindness they can do your story.  Letting you know what works helps you figure out what your strong points are, and by extension, how to strengthen the whole document.  Letting you know what doesn’t work gives you a heads up to problems before the stakes are high.  Remember, you only get one shot to impress an agent/editor/reader/whoever.  Once they decide to put your book down, they likely won’t pick it up ever again- or anything else you’ve written.

Still, favor or not, it stings a bit.  Here are three tips that might make taking criticism a little easier, and help you to use your feedback to its fullest.

Don’t argue.  Especially don’t argue if you just got the feedback two minutes ago and are hot to defend your honor.  Negative feedback takes a little more time to process than positive, so be sure to give yourself ample opportunity to do it.  Thank the readers graciously for their time, take a little time yourself, and then address the feedback directly only if you need clarification- if you’re not sure what a note means, if you have specific questions that the reader didn’t address, if you think the reader missed something important that would change their opinion.  Explain things, if you must, but learn to accept that some parts of your story just won’t tickle every reader’s fancy, and that some parts just suck (temporarily!).

Listen carefully.  Listen especially carefully if multiple readers are saying the same thing.  I know that all of us writers are sensitive introverts and unappreciated geniuses and all that, but we goof up sometimes.  We rely on clichés, or we mess up a fact check, or we get too focused on a neat world mechanic or a fun side character, or we hinge our entire plot on a choice that completely flies in the face of all our character development to that point.  It’s far easier for an unattached reader to pick up on those oopsies than the person who wrote it over and over so many times they want their eyeballs to fall out.  So when your readers have a problem with something, especially more than one of your readers, give it the attention it deserves.  Because chances are, editors and paying readers would have the same problems.

Trust yourself.  Remember that you are the author and you know your setting and your characters and your story better than anyone else in the world.  If a reader insists a change be made that you just aren’t comfortable with, don’t feel like you have to do it.  Authors get things wrong sometimes, but so do readers.  Don’t let your story become somebody else’s in an effort to please them.  Be pliable enough to recognize and accept good advice (even if it means a ton more work, oh my gosh), but strong enough to be true to your own vision.  Work to clarify the point, massage the prose into better form, whatever you need to do- but don’t warp your work into something you don’t love.

Negative feedback can hurt like the dickens, but so can exercise.  Exercise with an actual training coach is often more painful- but also a lot more effective.  Let the coach do her job, and get your sore butt to the gym.  You’ll be better for it in the long run, just like your story will be better if you accept the help your beta readers are willing to give, and then put in the work to make your story the very strongest it can be.  If you can do these three things, contradictory as two and three may seem, you’ll be well on your way to whipping your story into its very best shape.

How about you, lovely readers?  What do you do when you get negative feedback?  Any tips for the rest of us?

Writing Events!

I wanted to recap on a couple writing events I participated in earlier this year, but they were both small enough that they didn’t quite merit a full length post.  So rather than taking the time to expound meaningfully on each one and really dig into it, I’ve decided to be lazy and crowbar them together!  (Plus this is my last full week before we take off for our three-month-long roadtrip through the Lower 48.  Oy, so much to dooooo.)

Panel Poster



Earlier this year, I helped to organize an author panel and workshop in Fairbanks Alaska, riding on the coattails of the statewide librarian’s conference taking place that same week.  The panel featured Carole Estby Dagg, author of The Year We Were Famous and Sweet Home Alaska, and local authors Cindy Aillaud, Lynn Lovegreen, Jen Funk Weber, and Marie Osburn Reid.

The turnout was pretty small, so we all managed to wedge in around a few large conference tables, and it was all very snug and casual.  The panel was more of a round robin, with the authors- or anyone else present with writing or publishing experience- sharing tips and advice.

Here I’ve picked out the best advice for you!  (Ain’t I sweet?)  Common core, at least in Alaskan school districts, has upped the need for informational stories for children, so there is a high demand for fic-informational (also known as faction).  National SCBWI conferences are awesome, and check out savvyauthors.com for even more networking opportunities.  SCBWI itself is very helpful for non-agented writers, but agents can get a much better deal than an unrepped writer can.  Take your time, and write what you love.

Following the panel, I ate too much candy and then Carole Estby Dagg presented about the stages of writing, from selecting an audience through writing and editing, and on to publication and marketing.  She approached the topic through the lens of her own work as a writer of historical fiction.

While I love a gal who plugs research so heavily (because research! I love it!), I think the most relevant thing that I pulled out of her presentation was the Shrunken Manuscript technique.

Shrink your manuscript to the tiniest print you can read.  Cut out all the open spaces: paragraphs, section breaks, everything, until it’s crammed onto as few pages as possible.  Then get three highlighters.  Everything with high emotion, highlight in red (or whatever).  Everything with high conflict, highlight in blue.  Every major plot point, highlight in green.  Then lay your whole manuscript out.  No matter how much you love them, any spots without color need to be either cut out or amped up.


AWG Reading

Just a few days after the SCBWI stuff, I attended an AWG meeting.  It was actually one of the meetings I usually skip- a chance to read some of your own work and get feedback.  But I had a short story competition coming up and I wanted a test audience for the piece I was planning to submit.  So why not?

I’d never done a critique group thing like this before, so I wasn’t sure what exactly to expect.  I managed to position myself in the seating circle so that I went dead last, which afforded me the perfect opportunity to chicken out, or for the meeting to run out of time, or all kinds of exciting possibilities.

None of which materialized.

I took my turn in the hotseat and read a short story I’d been prepping for a writing competition.  Historically, I have always been a terrible reader when it comes to my own works.  I stumble on words, read too fast, too quiet.  I get nervous.  But I knew this going in, so I had read it through several times out loud.  I find it’s harder to suck at reading when you memorize the piece instead. 😛  So the reading didn’t go as terribly as I’d been anticipating.

After I finished my reading, I whipped out my notebook.  The others in the group had lots of excellent questions and suggestions that really helped me zero in on what was working in the story, and what could use a bit more tweaking.  It was great to get some alternative perspectives on the piece, since I’d so thoroughly exhausted my own.  But on top of that, they were all very encouraging, and meaningful encouragement is sometimes had to come by in this line of work.

In the end, though, the critique must have done something right, because the piece took first place in the competition, leading to many a happy squeal.  So maybe consider trying a live critique some time, even if you never have before.

Until next time, happy packing writing!

The Five Phases of Querying

QueryingAhhhh, querying… What else can throw a writer into such a frenzy of excitement and terror? For those of us on the hunt for a literary agent, a solid query packet can make or break our plans for publication. So imagine how excited I was at the conference to attend not one, but three breakout sessions on snagging the attention of that most coveted of business partners.

After cramping my hand with hours of feverish note taking, I give you the combined wisdom of these literary sages- and my plan of attack on getting the attention of an agent. (For those of you not after an agent but still looking to traditionally publish, just replace the word ‘agent’ with ‘editor’ and proceed.)

Phase One- Edit your manuscript.

As much of a pain as editing can be, it is absolutely crucial to selling your manuscript. Although some agents are willing to work with authors on heavy editing, getting a book submission ready is completely and solely the author’s responsibility. Don’t count on an agent being willing to spend a ton of time editing your work- after all, agents only get paid when you do. Expecting them to put in a ton of free work just because you can’t figure out how to clean house on your own isn’t fair.

Your first page will be your most vital, but the agents all agreed that your first three chapters (about fifty pages) should be pitch perfect before querying. Eliminate anything that slows the reader down. Remember that agents are busy, busy people. If you lose their interest for even a moment, you seriously risk losing it forever. Make that manuscript sing.

Phase Two- Research your market.

Once you have your belle all ready for the ball, figure out where it has to go. We all think our manuscripts are lovely, unique creatures, but odds are pretty darned low that they are so unique as to be uncategorizable (which is most definitely a word, no need to look it up, shhhh). This category is your specific genre.

Think about where your book would rest on a shelf. The chances are pretty slim of Barnes and Nobles putting up a new set of shelves and placing just your book there. So where would they put it? And make note of the same books in that section- these are your comp titles. (But when searching for comp titles, don’t find big names that don’t really compare, and don’t use books that just generally similar. Find books similar in a very specific way- whether that’s style, theme, audience, whatever. And keep notes on all this for your query packet later.)

Think also about all the kinds of people who would be buying your book. Maybe you’d rest on the YA fantasy shelf, but if your book also prominently features mammoths in prehistoric Alaska, also consider mammoth fans or paleontologists or Alaskans or anything else. Go deeper than just a genre. Know your exact audience and pinpoint precisely what would make them shell out fifteen bucks for your book. Not only will you need to know this for future marketing adventures (wheeee!), but it will also help you find the most perfect agent on the planet for this specific book.

Phase Three- Research the proper agent.

For pity’s sake, do not blast the same query packet to every human who comes up on a Google search for ‘literary agent’. Since you already researched your perfect market back in Phase Two, take the time to find out your perfect agent as well. Laurie McLean’s rule of thumb is ten percent- spend ten percent of the time you spent on a novel researching agents.

The nice thing about this day and age is that all the information we need to figure out our best agent is online. Check out agency websites, querytracker.net, agentquery.com, Publisher’s Marketplace. Look at an agent’s client list, what kind of books they’ve sold, who they sell to.  Follow them on Twitter, read their blogs.

(But seriously, don’t stalk agents, digitally or otherwise. They want to only be queried with those projects best suited to them, so that sort of info is probably pretty available.  You’re not going to find the secret chink in their armor by hacking into their private Facebook page and looking at pictures of their daughter’s third birthday. Just don’t.)

And if you find you have the time and money to do so, definitely try online events, webinars, classes, conferences. Anything that gets you interacting with agents (in a good way!) will help you sort out whom to query with what, and how to best do it.

Phase Four- Assemble- and check!- your packet.

Once you have your dream team of potential agents post-it noted over your writing desk, carefully ready their submission requirements. Not all agents ask for the same stuff! A query packet can include many things. The most common is a query letter, but the packet might also include a proposal, a synopsis, sample pages, a marketing plan- basically whatever the agent finds necessary to assessing your viability as a client. The most important thing here is to know exactly what the agent wants to see, and give them exactly that.

In the words of Andy Kifer, “Put together a packet designed to intrigue.” Make the query letter personal and interesting- butter up the agents about their list, about their talks, tout all the research you’ve by telling them how perfect they are for this manuscript. Sell your book, and sell yourself. Don’t make a synopsis that sounds like a fifth grade book report- inject the voice of the narrative, keep statements brief and powerful, prove that you can write an absorbing story from start to finish. Be very clear on what you have, and what you’re looking for. In each facet of the packet, make every sentence fascinate.

And then go back through it with a magnifying glass. Read it out loud. Get your friends to read it and give feedback. Edit. Reread. Make sure you spelled the agent’s name right. Eliminate all mistakes. And then send it through another round of beta readers. Do this as many times as necessary to get it just right.

Phase Five- Click send and get to work on the next project.

After all that work in phases one through four, Phase Five should be a cinch. You’ve done the legwork- now give that packet a kiss for luck and send it off.

But don’t just wait idle in the time it takes to receive a reply. Agents don’t want to work with a one trick pony- they want an author who can provide top notch work time and again. So get to work on your next masterpiece! If nothing else, it will keep your mind off the agony of waiting, and it just might produce your next best seller.

Best of luck in your querying adventures!

As mentioned throughout, this sagacity came from literary agents Danielle Smith, Laurie McLean, and Andy Kifer, all of whom are fun and nice and not at all terrifying demigods! Who’d have thought?

A Thousand Dollars to Blow

This hypothetical situation brought to you by a kind donation from Uncle Scrooge.

This hypothetical situation brought to you by a kind donation from Uncle Scrooge.

I don’t know about you folks, but I’ve got about three dollars to spend on a good day. That said, one of the best things about being poor is being able to torture your partner with all the cool stuff you can’t afford. A typical conversation may go something like this:

“If you had a thousand bucks to blow, what would you spend it on?”

“Uh… food.”

“No, we already have food.”

Good food.”

“Pick something better.”

“Dental care.”

“No, something fun.”

“Having teeth is fun.”

No. Something fun.”


This is what I call “The Caveat Stage”. This is where we get down to the particular genre of things we would spend money on. Last time we played this game, my husband asked what writing stuff I would buy. I talked about different writing software I wanted to try out, but I decided I wanted to revisit the question once I had a little more time to think about it.  So here it is, my well-thought-out spending extravaganza.

Thousand Monies o’ Stuff:

≥600: Light editing for Dead Timmy

≥200: Cover art for Dead Timmy

≥200: Writer’s Digest University

Remainders: Various writing competitions

So. Give what research I’ve done into it, these actually seem like viable numbers. Dead Timmy is hardly more than half the word count that City of the Dead is, putting premier editing costs at about $1200. But I don’t need premier. I figure half that rate is fine if I hunt around for someone willing to go at it for a smaller cost- someone without many projects at the time, someone new to the business and looking to pad the resume, someone I can blackmail and/or bribe with baked goods, etc.

I haven’t looked too deeply into the costs of cover design, but from what I’ve read on other sites, this can actually happen at a much lower cost than what I initially anticipated. Much of the actual designing can be done on one’s own (after tons and tons of research- seriously, if you’re going to cheap out on money, don’t cheap out on time, too). But since I’m not a good enough artist to do make pretty pictures on my own, I’d want to hire a professional, even if that pro is, say, an art student still in college somewhere, or a gal/guy painting on the side. Some places I’ve heard that are good for finding a cover artist on the cheap include Tumblr, DeviantArt, Twitter, and Fiverr. (If you know of others, PRETTY PLEASE let me know in the comments! My ignorance knows no bounds!)

Classes, webinars, and tutorials. I picked Writer’s Digest because they’re widely recognized and have a reputation for quality, but I could really spend this money on any class anywhere. (Except at UAF. I looked up a writing class at my dear ol’ alma mater, but the $800 they wanted for one class wasn’t exactly a steal. Thanks, mater.) A skim through the WD class list cropped up lots of classes that I would very much like to be a part of. Unfortunately, the ones I most liked were pretty far out of my price range (looks like mater wasn’t as pricey as I first thought- I’m just cheap.), but there are a few in the range that I thought would be interesting. (I even managed to squeak into a free webinar recently that I enjoyed. I’ll write about it in a few weeks.)

Anything left over (unlikely, haha) would be put to good use entering writing contests. I’ve never done one with an entry fee and I’d be very interested in seeing what that narrowed pool would do to the playing field.

So after looking all of this up, I realized anew that I’m a chintzy little penny pincher, about as glad to part with money as I am with a pulse. (Also, I’m not allowed to put the money in the bank. I checked.) But since this is pretty much Monopoly money I’m playing with here, why not make things really fun? In fact…

Revised Thousand Monies o’ Stuff:

1000: Wicked awesome book trailer with explosions and lens flares and stuff

Boom, baby. Gonna be SWEET.

PS- A couple of quick reminders!  If you wanted to participate in the Bio Bash, we seem to be meeting up for the Twitter portion on Monday, February 23; longer formats will be posted here at jillmarcotte.wordpress.com the following day, February 24, with critiques from there on out.  If you wanted to participate in the writer-blogger idea exchange, that can be found here– lots of people have been looking at the page, but only two have commented so far. 😦 Remember to give as well as take!

The Other Side.

Hi. Jill’s husband here.  Jill asked that I do a post for her on her birthday!  So I’ve sent her to bed and am writing this in her stead. I think this will be useful but first you have to step into my world for just a second.

I love games. In particular, I voraciously play a certain card game that involves two players, each with a deck of cards. Many people become attached to their deck, and see it as an extension of their persona. It has been carefully crafted.  It is their tool for defeating opponents. It contains rare cards that they own. In short, people want to play with their deck. So it came as a surprise to my opponent at a tournament yesterday when I asked if we could switch decks (during a non tournament game).

The reason I do this is to lean how my deck operates from the opponent’s perspective. Some cards may not seem powerful, but when played against you are quite brutal and visa versa. This made me realize that I was a good person to talk about living with a writer and focus on the other side.


actually i just needed an embaressing picture

Being stranded on a park bench in a flooded lake may hinder writing time…

Living with a writer is an interesting study in the use of time. There is never enough to go around. I take way more time in our relationship, and with more immediate specter of income, we both agree that my career time constraints have priority over Jill’s. I thought that her time writing could be truly flexible, but it has come to my attention that she is more productive at certain times of the day or has a routine that she prefers to work within. I don’t always realize when I’ve disrupted that routine.

Alpha/Beta Reading

Usually I have the role of reading material as it is generated. Or at the very least ideas are reviewed off me. In many instances I am just awed at what Jill can produce. I am not a writer nor do I enjoy the process, but I have read quite a bit. To quote that one guy: “I may not know much about [writing], but I know what I like.” My comments are often like that. I may have a minor complain about a character or how the story is laid out, or I may just express my love of how similar situations were treated in my favorite books. Jill is the one who has to mold that whimsical desire into her storyline in a literarily appropriate manner. In a similar vein, some of my proudest moments come from giving ideas to her stories that actually come to fruition.

Moral Support

yep, they're cute alright!

Moral support is about all they can do to help…

The biggest influence I think I have on Jill as a writer is as moral support. Full disclosure here: sometimes I think that all this writing stuff is useless unless its getting a paycheck. But then I realize that my schooling and unpaid internships are generating just as much money. And I truly believe in the skills my wife possesses and the material she produces. I think it is amazing and people should pay to read her work. Besides, even if her current novel fails to every publish it is still not a “failure”. It’s a piece of good writing, of value for her, and to all who do read it.  Is a painting useless is if no one buys it? No. Writing is clearly an art, and there is something beautiful and inspiring about the creating of art. There is not a way to really put a price on that.

Other Other Side

I just want to end my note here by reiterating my example of the card game. In the game, there is always a single clear opponent. From what I gather of the writing business there are a number of people who have an important opinion of what a writer does. The spouse is at the bottom of that list in many ways. I think this blog has many examples of how to gain the perspective of the agents, readers, publishers, editors, and reviewers.

I hope we can all get a little more understanding of each other by “switching decks” as often as possible.

Thank you Jill for being so wonderful, and happy birthday!