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Mimetic Writing

Mimetic writing is a literary device that simply means having your writing match the pace of what you’re describing with how you’re describing it. Let’s go into a bit more detail here.

mimetic writing, descriptive writing, creative writing, fiction writing,
This isn’t the vibe you want for a tender, vulnerable moment.

This is a point that I tackled in slightly different terms in my Making Your Writing Exciting at the Sentence Level post from late 2009. I’ve been seeing opportunities for this literary device a lot more recently, and so I wanted to delve into it again.

Mimetic Writing Makes Sense

Writing should strive to be mimetic of the action it’s describing. As with the example of a character being chased in the older post, the short burst sentences portray the feeling of being chased, even as the words describe a chase scene. In the language falling in love example, the long, flowing sentences portray the languor and lush feelings of infatuation, even as they describe it. So while the term feels like a literary device, the idea is really quite simple.

When you’re writing, not only should you strive to match your writing and syntax to what you’re describing, but you should also put yourself in the situation in a physical, emotional, and, above all, logical way. Doing all of this will not only work to make your readers feel like they’re part of the situation on a conscious level, but on a subconscious one as well.

As always, you should strive to make writing work and blend, not stand out or pull the reader out of the story.

Your Level of Description Needs to Make Sense

I’ve been reading a lot of scenes that just don’t make syntax sense or logic sense (more on character logic). For example, I find an action sequence unrealistic if your character stops to describe the scene, the characters, the mood, or any of the action in too much sensory detail. Why? Well, imagine fighting some baddies Matrix-style. As bullets zoom by you, are you really stopping to reflect on a character’s sleek black trench? Or describe the marble hall that’s currently getting blasted to hell? No.

Action and danger spike adrenaline and tunnel your vision and senses. Or they make one persistent detail stand out. How many times have you heard grief-ridden or traumatized people/characters say, “And for some reason, I remember looking out the window and seeing this random kid crossing the street, and that’s all I remember from that time at the hospital when Dad passed.” (Even more advice on writing descriptions.)

You’re only paying attention to the things you need to survive, or sometimes your conscious mind isn’t working at all. So not only does superfluous description during an action sequence seem unnecessary and slow the pacing, I also just don’t buy it. That’s the crux of mimetic writing.

Avoid Generic Descriptions

The inverse is true, too. If your character is paying really careful attention to someone or something, vague description just isn’t going to cut it. If she’s looking into his eyes (is there a bigger cliche?), she most likely wouldn’t find them just “beautiful” or simply “captivating,” but she’d go into detail. This is an easy consideration, and perfectly logical, but it’s just one more small thing for writers to keep in their heads when they’re writing.

Mimetic Writing Means Directing the Spotlight

Whenever we describe something, we draw the reader’s attention to it. This doesn’t just apply to how we describe something, it counts for what we describe, too. We are the story’s curator, using all the tools in our storytelling arsenal to guide the reader through the tale. Mimetic writing — imitating the action of what’s being described — is a subtle way to do just that. Description is another related skill. Lately, I’ve been noticing a lot of description missteps, so this literary device is something to keep in mind.

What you describe and how you describe it are two very important considerations of writing voice. As your freelance book editor, I can help you hone your style so that your work stands out.

 

Writing Character Description in First Person POV

What’s a great way to accomplish character description in first person POV? I want to talk about something I’ve been noticing a lot: third person-style narration in the first person.

character description in first person, writing a character description, character description
How does your protagonist describe him or herself? Don’t fall into this common trap when you’re writing a character description.

What to Avoid With Character Description in First Person

Character description in first person POV (and what to avoid) is easier to illustrate than to explain. It goes, for example, like this:

My gaze shifted to the corner of the room. A shadow seemed to move. It hadn’t been there a moment ago. My heartbeat quickened and my pupils contracted with fear. I leaned back against the wall, the muscles in my torso tightening, my mouth drying out, my legs ready to spring into action. With my breath coming in short, shallow gasps, I prepared myself to attack.

Now, this is a subtle one to pick up on, I think. Can you figure out, from this sample, what I might mean? I’m referring to a style of narration that is more commonplace (and appropriate) when writing a character description in the third person.

When you’re writing in the first person, you are immediately inside your character’s head, heart, and body. When you’re in third person, even if you’re in very close third, you’re on the outside of the body, seeing it from a bit of a bird-eye view.

External Character Description

Passages like the one I’ve written above are first person character description (within the body) but seem oddly outside of it. This most often happens with physical descriptions/actions. I fear I’m not making a whole lot of sense, so I will try another approach. Imagine you’re telling an anecdote to your friends.

You’ve got them wrapped around your finger as you’re describing a scene, say, the last time you were thrown a surprise party. When you’re writing a character description about yourself, do you say, “My gaze shifted to the corner and my mouth dropped open to discover Uncle Eddie wearing a party hat”?

That doesn’t sound very natural to me. If I were telling a story to a group of friends at a party, I would say something like “I looked and saw” or, if I’m feeling really fancy, “I glanced over.” When I’m writing character description in first person, it feels oddly distancing to say, about myself, “my gaze shifted.” I also wouldn’t say “my mouth dropped open.” I’m not watching myself on a video tape and narrating what’s happening. “To my shock” or “shockingly” would be more first person-appropriate.

Character Description in Third Person

To further illustrate the differences when you’re writing a character description, let’s put the above passage in the third person:

His gaze shifted to the corner of the room. A shadow seemed to move. It hadn’t been there a moment ago. Jake’s heartbeat quickened and his pupils contracted with fear [I have problems with writers relying too heavily on physical symptoms and gestures to convey emotion, but that’s another post for another day…]. He leaned back against the wall, the muscles in his torso tightening, his mouth drying out, his legs ready to spring into action. With his breath coming in short, shallow gasps, Jake prepared himself to attack.

Now, it’s not a perfect paragraph, and it still has a lot of no-nos in terms of how to describe emotion, but it sounds much more natural in third to my ear because we’re observing the character from the outside.

Sure, we can’t see his muscles tighten or his heartbeat quicken from a true bird-eye view, but the tone of this piece is that of an outside observer. That same tone doesn’t work when you’re writing character description in first person, when the protagonist is talking about their own body.

Writing a Character Description That Sounds Natural

This note about character description in first person is more subtle, but I’ve found myself giving it a lot lately. Sure, it’s probably less fancy to adhere to true first person tone when describing physical events (the boring “I glanced” vs. the sexy “my gaze shifted”) but I think it’s more authentic. On a related note, I’ve also been giving a lot of writers pointers about overwriting, making things more complex than they should be, and showing off. This is one example of prose where I think we should all strive for a bit more simplicity.

Do your character details sound authentic? Are you writing in the right POV? Hire me as your book editor and let’s talk characterization!

Writing Tense in Young Adult

Wondering about writing tense in Young Adult fiction? This post is actually more question than answer, because Lynne did such a great job of summing up the issue and, to be fair, answered most of this question herself. But I wanted to post that process and contribute to it! What’s the issue? Present tense.

writing tense
Present tense lends immediacy to your YA manuscript, letting the reader feel like everything is happening now now now. But is this desirable?

For my WD seminar, every writer got to ask me a question and I was guaranteed to answer it. Roughly a tenth of all the questions were about writing tense or POV. Someone even asked about the tense that should be used in a query letter. What?! I’d never thought about that for a second in my life. I have written about POV a few times before, like in this post about POV in writing. Tense? Not as much. So here we go.

Young Adult Present Tense Is So Hot Right Now

I’ll start with Lynne’s question about young adult present tense:

Lately when I’ve perused the YA section at Barnes & Noble, there seem to be awful lot of new releases written in the present tense. Several have been fabulous and very successful (e.g., Suzanne Collin’s HUNGER GAMES trilogy, Ally Condie’s MATCHED). Others are less well-known, but ten minutes in the YA section and you’ll have an armful. There’s been some buzz about the “trend” of present tense writing. Some authors don’t like the use of present tense and suggest its a fad (see Phillip Pullman’s take in The Guardian).

Others question whether it’s a trend at all, and conclude that in the end, it doesn’t matter because if the writing (in any tense, present included) doesn’t work for you, you can always just put the novel down. (see Laura Miller’s article in Salon). Another article or blog I read recently mentioned the appeal of present tense to young readers is its immediacy; that current teens are so used to a culture where everything happens at breakneck speed that younger readers today aren’t jarred by the use of present tense and may even gravitate toward it.

My question is two-fold: First, do you feel there a trend toward present tense writing (especially in a first person POV) in YA lit right now? Are you seeing more of it in your slush these days? And second, if so, what do you think about it? Do manuscripts written in the present tense intrigue you? Turn you off? Or are you neutral, and just wait to see if the writing lives up to the challenge? And are editors seeking books in present tense or are they wary of them?

In the end, I would think it all comes down to the story and more than anything, the quality of the writing. Present tense presents different challenges than past tense, and the immediately of the tense can be exhausting for the reader. Also, the stream of consciousness filter can be tough, so can the effort not to mix tenses. It’s still not the norm– but is it a trend?

Does The Tense Fit the Book? That’s The Only Consideration

To tell you the truth, I felt lazy with my short answer to such a long question, but so it goes. I think that tense really doesn’t matter as long as the book works. There is a trend of young adult present tense out there right now, for sure. But do I gravitate toward or away from a piece because of present tense writing? No.

Also, I haven’t really heard an editor talk to me about young adult present tense in particular. We talk about story and hook and character. Sometimes POV comes into the picture, but the most I usually hear from editors about POV is a thought on really polarizing POV, like second person direct address (YOU by Charles Benoit is an example of that, and comes up often in discussions). It seems like us literary types should spend more time discussing tense but it really does fade into the background for me when I’m reading, as long as the writing, story, character, and voice are there.

Long story short: I think young adult present tense writing is hot (for the immediacy reasons Lynne mentions, which I also always cite), but it’s not really a consideration for me. I’ve read present tense. I’ve written in present tense. I don’t know if I’ve represented present tense yet. (See? I can’t even remember if my clients’ books are in present tense…although I do know WILDEFIRE has sections of present tense second person direct address, because Karsten Knight is crafty like that…)

Writing tense is very low on my list, in other words, of things I care about when I’m reading/considering. Hope that takes some of the, ahem ahem, tension out of the issue for you all!

Voice is crucial to writing YA but a lot of writers take years to find it. Bring me on your team as a developmental editor for personal, intimate manuscript feedback geared toward the young adult market.

Writing Character Growth: Characters in Denial

Writing character growth if the character is in denial is a tough proposition. This is a very nitpicky post that I’ve been meaning to write for a while.

character growth
So what if my paramour doesn’t like daylight and is suspiciously pale? He couldn’t possibly be a vampire…

Examples of Characters in Denial

One of my biggest pet peeves in fiction is characters in denial. What do I mean by that? Examples:

Something about the way Rolf looked at me chilled the back of my neck, but he was just so darn cute that I followed him down the darkened alley.

Morgan firmly believed that she would never, ever get her first kiss.

The new girl gave me a pained, significant look but I just turned away and rushed off to class. She was probably trying to cry out a contact or something.

These types of little moments of denial in a book are understandable. A fiction writer’s job is to create “the fictive dream,” and to entice a reader to suspend their disbelief and jump into a completely fabricated world and story.

Plant Seeds Without Being Too Obvious

Often, a writer needs to work in events and people that will be significant later, but they don’t want to seem too obvious about it (learn more about foreshadowing.) Since novels are all about weaving in details that should grow in significance over the course of the plot, you have to jam this stuff in there somewhere and somehow.

But characters in denial in the face of Something That We All Know Will Be Important Later is just not the way to go. My examples above are purposefully bad but I think we all know what’s going to happen. Rolf and his dimples probably aren’t leading our narrator down the dark alley to show her a box of puppies with big red bows around their necks. Morgan gets snogged breathless. And that new chick is giving Narrator #3 that look because she’s got bad news/is a demon/can read his aura/is his long lost sister/whatever.

Let the Character Be Perceptive

Readers want to follow a character who is smart and perceptive (check out this related post: active protagonist). But putting characters in denial so that you can layer in Something That We All Know Will Be Important Later is not the way you’ll earn sympathy, character growth, and respect for your fictional people. Readers see right through that. If anything, you’re damaging your protagonist’s credibility and creating an unreliable narrator. (The unreliable narrator isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but you don’t want to unintentionally create this kind of character.)

So what do you do? Don’t have your characters say never. If someone says in chapter one that they’ll never fall in love, I know I’m most likely in for an “unlikely” love story. (One issue I had with the upcoming DELIRIUM by Lauren Oliver is that there’s a lot of time spent reassuring the reader that the protagonist has bought society’s anti-love propaganda hook, line, and sinker…despite having a family predisposition for love sickness…and even after she meets Obvious-and-Rebellious Love Interest Dude. Riiiiiight.)

Don’t Be Obvious About Important Details

If you need to introduce significant details that will lead to further character growth and make sure that the reader, not the character, notices them and understands that they’re looking at Something That We All Know Will Be Important Later, here’s an idea: don’t call the character’s attention to it in such an obvious way. Describe the new girl, then leave it at that until she pops up again.

Don’t describe the new girl and then make a point of describing how the narrator doesn’t notice the new girl. Plus, that’s a lie. You have to notice something to be able to describe it.

If you need to make your character do something stupid or dangerous because it’s part of your plot, but what they have to do is out of character, like going down Rolf Alley, don’t try and justify character actions with denial, and don’t have them lie to themselves. Characters are always smarter, more interesting, and more believable when you give them layers. (Learn more about writing believable characters.) So to make these types of character growth moments read as authentic, don’t be afraid to put a little doubt in the character’s head.

How to Fix Stunted Character Growth

For example:

I didn’t want to follow Rolf down that alley but Meghan’s snarky comment from last week, calling me a prude in front of everyone, rang in my head and I set out to prove her wrong.

That’s realistic, flat-out denial isn’t.

The art of fiction is the act of making the implausible seem plausible and relatable to readers. Writing characters in denial is very often one of the cheapest and laziest ways to do that, and I never fall for it.

(Please feel free to point out that the agent who said “never say never” just said “never.” Looks like there’s going to be some pretty convincing denial in my future!)

If you’re working on characterization and wondering if your protagonist is coming across as an unreliable narrator when that’s not your intention, hire me as your developmental editor. We can dive into your manuscript together.

Should You Revise and Resubmit To The Same Agent?

Estee came up with a really interesting question about whether or not you should revise and resubmit to the same agent:

I’m curious if you remember the slush. I mean, if someone submits something that isn’t good enough, revises it and re-submits it at least six months later, do you recognize them?

revise and resubmit, writing agents
Oh YEAH! I totally remember Zolten the Zebra!

Submission Deja Vu

Other comments joked about writing agents and their all-remembering powers. Since we see thousands of submissions a year, it’s a funny idea that we’d remember them, right? Well, I have news for you. I remember submissions pretty well, considering the circumstances! I can’t really remember what I had for dinner a few days ago or to pick up the one thing I really need at the grocery store, but I do start to get submission deja vu when reading something I’ve seen before.

For me, and I don’t know about other agents out there, it’s always a turn of phrase or a description that triggers my memory. In cases where the query or submission had a really focused premise, the premise will jog my memory if I see it again. The same goes for other random tidbits: funny character names, strange author names, jokes, exotic locations that the author is writing from, random connections we have that they might have brought up in their queries, etc. There are a million different things that catch my attention, of course. And I probably wouldn’t recognize everything I’ve ever seen if it was presented to me again, but my memory has been pretty accurate so far.

Always Be Upfront About a “Revise and Resubmit” Scenario

If the question was asked in the context of whether to mention a “revise and resubmit” scenario in the query, I say you should always mention it. If you’re writing agents again, don’t count on them to forget your previous submission. Most of us who use email can search for your previous correspondence. And it’s not a bad thing if you’re resubmitting to a literary agent. We all know that writing is a craft and that writers end up revising, sometimes days after they send their first query, sometimes months or years.

What To Say

How about something simple along the lines of:

Dear Mary,

You saw this query and passed with some really insightful feedback (Ha! My fake letter is laying it on a bit thick, but if you did get a response after writing agents the first time around, don’t be afraid to mention something about it…). I’ve since revised the project and am hoping you’ll be interested in taking a second look. To refresh your memory, the story goes like this:

And then you launch into the meat of your query again because, as good as my memory may sometimes be, I’ll always appreciate another pitch to remind me of the key points of your project.

If you’re unsure how to handle your own “revise and resubmit” scenario, hire me as your query letter editor. I’ll help you pinpoint what you should include in your query.

Beta Readers and Online Critique Groups

Reader Melissa asked a question about beta readers and online critique groups:

What’s the best time to start submitting work to a critique group? Should you wait until it’s finished or submit chapters as they’re written? Also, are beta readers the same as a critique group?

online critique groups, beta readers
Don’t underestimate the value of good writing critique groups.

This made me think, as I frequently do, about the glory of critique groups and readers. All writers need them, no matter if you’ve never thought so or had unsuccessful situations in the past. Good critique partners and beta readers are worth their weight in gold, truly.

The Function of Online Critique Groups

The point of critique of any kind is to get other eyes (ideally, eyes that belong to writers who know what they’re talking about) on your work. How do you do that? First, there are critique partners or a critique group (the name isn’t important). These are other writers who you exchange work and commentary with, ideally on a regular basis. Some writers love working with local groups, but you don’t have to know your crit partners in person…these groups work well over the Internet or the phone, too.

When to Involve Writing Critique Groups

Critique partners or a writing critique group work best when writers convene regularly and are committed to one another, so that a core group can stay together over the course of many projects. Critique partners become intimately familiar with your writing, your stories, your strengths, weaknesses, and goals. This kind of continuity lets you get down to business and really get into the nitty gritty of the writing (ideally…follow the link to read more about what makes a great critique group or partner).

Some groups all want a writer to have a completed manuscript, others will be open to seeing work in progress…sometimes literally as it comes hot off the press (or printer). You should talk this over with your critique partners and make a decision that appeals to everyone.

It can be useful and exciting to get feedback on a project while you’re still creating it. It is even more useful, I think, to finish something, revise it on your own for a few passes, and then bring in your critique partners. A novel changes so much during the writing process, that it may be more helpful for you to work it out and get it written first, before even thinking about feedback and revision.

Writing Critique Groups vs Beta Readers

There is a small distinction, in my mind, between critique groups (or partners…I’ve used both terms interchangeably here) and beta readers. When I think of critique partners, I think of a group that meets regularly, will read whatever you give them, and really drill into it. That could mean reading an entire manuscript, or it could mean reading twenty versions of one chapter as you try to get it right. Critique groups should be very hands on and intense. Beta readers are people who read the whole manuscript and give feedback, but who may not give as much writing/revision/craft advice as your regular critique group. Beta readers are great if you want new eyes on a project, or if you want to hear from someone who doesn’t already know the story (like if you’re writing a murder mystery and really want to see if your red herrings work, but you’re worried whether your critique partners, who already know the whole story, will be able to judge after a few revisions).

Most of the professional writers I know have a regular critique group and then a few beta readers who they reach out to after the manuscript has been revised and polished, just for some quick feedback and a last minute read before it goes to their agent or editor, just to make sure the book is working.

For New Writers Looking for Critique Partners

But if you’re just starting out, don’t worry about having a pocketful of beta readers and a five-person bi-monthly, dedicated critique group. Maybe find a partner online (through the Verla Kay Blueboards, or the SCBWI) or at a writer’s conference. If that partner doesn’t work, find another one. I just did a Critique Connection post a few weeks ago, so that might be a place to search. The point is, start finding some critique opportunities and getting comfortable with the practice of giving, receiving, and incorporating feedback from a supportive community of writers (some constructive feedback examples here). Hone your revision skills. Take it one step at a time. You’ll find the right mix that works for you.

If your at a stage in your work where you’re ready to invest in an expert set of eyes, my book editing services will build on the work of your critique group.

Including Illustration Notes in Your Children’s Book Manuscript

This easily answered question about writing a children’s book manuscript and illustration notes in picture book manuscript format comes from longtime reader Siski:

I’ve got a story that absolutely requires illustration notes but I feel amateurish including them because I’ve read you shouldn’t do it when writing a children’s book manuscript. Should I try to rewrite the story without them?

children's book manuscript, illustration notes
Less is more when it comes to illustration notes in picture book manuscript format.

Children’s Book Manuscript Format

Just so we’re immediately clear, I’ll talk a little bit about picture book manuscript format. When you’re writing a children’s book manuscript, you’ll typically have your text on the page, with line breaks or white space to indicate page breaks as you envision them (extra tips about creating a picture book here). Like this:

I am writing a picture book story.
I think it’s very fun.

I’ll include a page break in it,
So the lines don’t start to run.

You can even dictate page breaks in parentheses, like this:

(Page 1)

I am writing a picture book story.
I think it’s very fun.

(Page 2)

I’ll include a page break in it,
So the lines don’t start to run.

Well, when you’re writing and you want to convey something about how you see the page illustrated, you include illustration notes, usually in parentheses and italics. This is what we’re talking about:

I am writing a picture book story.
I think it’s very fun.

(Illo: Mary cradling her MacBook Air, beating out the meter of her story with her fingers.)

Writing a Children’s Book Manuscript: Illustration Notes

If you write picture books, you’ll hear a lot of opinions about illustration notes. Some people say they’re a no-no, others say to add them in. I’m in the middle of the debate on this one. The reason so many people advise against them is this: too many writers use illustration notes to micromanage.

For example, you’ll see illustration notes like:

(Illo: Sally has brown hair, glasses, and a blue skirt. She is skipping down the street with a red backpack in one hand, a lunch sack in the other, by a house with a green mailbox, while her braid swings to the left.)

Or the note will be too detailed in other ways. Or the writer will include an illustration note for every page. The list of illustration note misuses goes on and on.

Do’s and Dont’s

The point of an illustration note isn’t to jot down every single thing that’s in your imagination. It’s also not to micromanage the potential illustrator. The point of an illustration note is to convey something to the children’s book manuscript reader that is not obvious from the text.

Only use illustration notes in your picture book manuscript if there is something integral to the plot that you want the illustrations to convey, but it’s not described or alluded to anywhere in the text. In other words, if I will be blind to something from just reading the text, use an illustration note to describe it, but really do keep them simple, spare, and few in number. The average picture book text will only need one or two, tops. An example of an effective picture book note:

I am writing a picture book story.
I think it’s very fun.

(Illo: Mary typing, blithely unaware that a monster is sneaking up behind her, claws bared.)

If you’re interested in a picture book editor with over ten years of experience, hire me to dig into your children’s book manuscript.

Why Manuscripts Are Rejected: Guest Blog by Chuck Sambuchino

Today’s guest post digs into why manuscripts are rejected, and comes from the fantastic Chuck Sambuchino of Writer’s Digest and Guide to Literary Agents blog and book fame. He’s celebrating the recent release of this fabulous book, HOW TO SURVIVE A GARDEN GNOME ATTACK: DEFEND YOURSELF WHEN THE LAWN WARRIORS STRIKE (AND THEY WILL). Here, he shares the reason that you have a rejected manuscript on your hands, and I wholeheartedly agree. While I have posted on this topic a few times (like this post that addresses the question, I wrote a book, now what?), maybe Chuck’s take will finally make folks listen. 🙂

why manuscripts are rejected, rejected manuscript
Don’t give in to the “frustration submission.” Chip away at those problems until they’re corrected — THEN your work will be ready for agent eyes.

Why Manuscripts Are Rejected: Three Reasons

why manuscripts are rejected, rejected manuscriptWhen agents review pages of your manuscript, they may reject you for one of three reasons.

  1. They may realize that the story they’re reading is in a genre or category outside of what they handle. Rejected manuscript.
  2. Poor writing skills: grammar, punctuation, sentence structure, etc. Rejected manuscript.
  3. A writer’s story just plain isn’t ready yet. In other words, it’s good—but simply being good doesn’t cut it. A piece of fiction has to be great to catch an agent’s eye.

Is Your Work Ready?

One of the main reasons why manuscripts are rejected is that writers turn in their work too early. As a writer myself, this is a problem I sympathize with. We work on a story for what seems like an eternity and then you get to a point where you just say, “If I read this darn thing one more time, I will KILL SOMEBODY. I am so sick of looking at this thing that my eyeballs hurt. I am going to send it out and take my chances.”

So you’ve decided to send it out. But is it ready?

When is your work really ready? By that, I mean: When is your manuscript edited enough and polished to the point where you can confidently submit it to agents? I used to think there was no answer to this question, and that each project was so vastly different that it would be misleading to address the subject. But I was wrong.

If You Think It Has a Problem, It Does

The best answer I can give regarding why manuscripts are rejected is this: If you think the story has a problem, it does—and any story with a problem is not ready. When I have edited full-length manuscripts (some for SCBWI friends and others on a freelance editor basis) and then met with the writers personally to discuss my thoughts, a strange thing happens. When I address a concern in the book, the writer will nod before I even finish the sentence. What this means is that they knew about the problem and suspected it was a weak point in the story. I have simply confirmed that which they already knew.

For Example…

  • “This part where he gets beat up—it doesn’t seem believable that so many kids just took off school like that.”
  • “If the main character is so stealth, then how come he gets caught by the bad guys here?”
  • “The story starts too slow. We need more action.”

A Manuscript With a Problem Isn’t Ready For Agent Eyes

In my experience, writers all seem to know many of their problematic issues before anyone even tells them. So all this brings me back to my main point: If you think your work has a problem, then it more than likely does—and any manuscript with a problem is not ready for agent eyes. If you find yourself saying, “Hmmm. I think the map just being there in the attic is kind of too lucky for the kids,” other readers will likely agree with you—and that is a great example of a typical problem. And every problem needs to be fixed before you submit to agents — or you’ll end up with a rejected manuscript.

This shows the importance of engaging beta readers for a manuscript critique—friends who will review the work once it’s written. They will come back to you with concerns, both big and small. You address the concerns in your next revision and send the work to more readers. Once readers stop coming back with concerns, you’re starting to get somewhere. If you think you have issues, or multiple critiquers agree on a problem, then you’re not ready for Querytime. When you and your readers can look at a book and say that all concerns are adequately addressed (and it therefore lacks any major problems), then and only then will you be ready.

My manuscript critique services will help you resolve problems in your work so it’s ready for agent eyes.

Should You Mention Using Freelance Editors and Hiring an Editor

Today’s question about hiring an editor and mentioning using freelance editors from Zoe is a quick one:

If a writer decides to have an MS professionally edited by a reputable editor known in the biz (I dunno, think freelance editors like Alan Rinzler or a Lisa Rector perhaps), should the writer ever mention it in the query? How do I go about hiring an editor?

freelance editors, hiring an editor, book editor, manuscript editor, freelance novel editor
Hiring an editor is a great way to get a second set of eyes on your project, but do freelance editors belong in your query letter?

It’s totally up to you whether you choose to mention hiring an editor in your query letter. There are a few thoughts that spring to mind for me when I read in a query that a manuscript has been worked on by freelance editors. (Note: I have worked as a freelance editor for the past five years, but this answer is largely colored by my five years as a literary agent.)

Agent Reactions to Freelance Editors

On the good end of the spectrum, I think: Oh, great! This writer is used to working with someone else in an editorial capacity and has probably had to revise this manuscript quite a bit. They may be more savvy that some others in my slush about the whole process. I’m about to read a polished piece of fiction.

On the not so good, these are the thoughts that can also come up: Freelance editors always improve a manuscript, but how much did this one improve and, more importantly, at what level did it start? Did the writer hire an editor to put some professional polish on the project, or because it had gotten rejected all over the place and they needed serious help? Does this writer belong to a critique group or do they rely solely on freelance editors?

I know that lots of writers work with freelance editors. There are pros and cons to this, as well as to mentioning it in your query. (You can read some more freelance editor thoughts from me here.)

Hiring an Editor, But Make Sure It’s the Right Editor

If you’ve managed to work with big name freelance editors, my ears might perk up, of course. The bigger the name of your editor, the more selective they can afford to be. They tend to vet their projects and pick the most promising writers to work with. But this is not always the case. So while a freelance editor’s name may trigger good associations for me, or lift my hopes, it’s not going to be the deciding factor in whether I want to represent you or not.

It always comes down to the work. And, in the back of my mind, I always want to know that you have arrived at your work in large part because of your own writing craft. So if you have used or continue to use a freelance editor, I will want to know about it at some point, whether it’s in the query or later, as we’re discussing representation. I’ll want to make sure that you actually have the chops to create a great, skillful manuscript on your own, as well.

If you’re thinking about hiring an editor, let me make my case for my editing services. Learn more about my services now that I’m on the other side of the desk and helping writers toward their goals every day.

Writing an Antagonist Character in Contemporary Fiction

Reader Rachael asked the following question about writing an antagonist character, and she brings up an interesting point:

I’ve been wondering if a lack of one clear antagonist character is a problem if you’re writing YA contemporary (which I am). It seems like it would be a huge problem for fantasy, sf, mystery, etc., but for contemporary, I just don’t know. I can think of several YA contemporary books that don’t seem to have one clear big bad antagonist. Don’t get me wrong, they’re packed with conflict, but the antagonists change throughout the book (usually it’s some combination of the MC’s best friend(s), boyfriend(s), family, and the MC his or herself). So, does that mean it’s okay?

antagonist character, writing an antagonist, antagonists, writing a villain, villains in fiction, antagonists in fiction, creative writing
You want to spend almost as much time writing an antagonist character as you spend on your protagonist. Surprised? Read on to learn why.

Writing an Antagonist Character Is Important Business

Antagonists in today’s fiction can take many forms. Lord Voldemort (yes, I said it) in HARRY POTTER is a traditional antagonist character. He’s a big, bad villain and the entire series is spent tracking Harry as he clashes with Voldemort and his supporters, the Death Eaters (read more tips about writing a protagonist and antagonist). And Rachael is right. In a lot of fantasy, adventure, and sci-fi, there usually are villain characters who you can point to and name. This is usually a person, and they are usually as multi-faceted as the main character (or they should be), which gives the story more tension and raises the stakes.

But what do you do if you don’t have a villain in mind? If there’s no shadowy baddie behind the curtain, always threatening danger and doom? Do you still have a story?

Writing an Antagonist If You Don’t Have a Villain

I’d say you do. For another complex and fascinating villain, check out Lia, the main character of Laurie Halse Anderson’s WINTERGIRLS. She’s also our point of view narrator, and the hero of the story. But she’s suffering from anorexia and the demons of the disease, not to mention the guilt she feels when her best friend and partner-in-dieting, Cassie, dies. The hero and the villain here are one and the same.

In the highly-anticipated MATCHED, by Allie Condie, there are individual people who are antagonist characters, but one might say that the villain itself is the big, bad government (a popular theme in dystopian fiction), which seeks to control its citizens and uses that control for nefarious purposes.

Antagonist Characters Generate Conflict

Instead of thinking about this from the is-it-or-isn’t-it-a-villain perspective, I want you to consider your story in terms of conflict. Every story needs a balance of external and internal conflict. Internal conflict is what the character has going on inside them, basically, character’s inner life vs. the world. The story must also have external conflict. In other words, character’s outer life vs. the world and/or character vs. other characters.

An example of internal conflict: I am eating lunch under a table in the library because I am so different from everyone and I feel so alone.

An example of external conflict: Now I’m headed to the principal’s office because the librarian found me. The principal is going to call my parents and I’m going to get in so much trouble.

If your story lacks a central antagonist character in the style of Lord Voldemort, don’t fear. Even if your story does have a baddie with all the evil fixin’s. Your focus should be on developing a rich and complex balance of internal tension and external tension that still carries all the tension and stakes of a story that has a centralized antagonist.

Think About Your Antagonist’s Contribution to The Conflict

Would HARRY POTTER still have its oomph if Lord Voldemort vanished from the storyline? It would lose a central story engine, sure, but there is still enough going on for Harry internally and externally that the series wouldn’t be totally sunk. I think that’s key.

Even if you do have a Lord Voldemort in your cast of antagonist characters, that can’t be the only source of conflict. It’s much more important to look at all your sources of conflict and make sure they’re balanced and come into play throughout your plot, not just at the beginning and the climax.

If you forego the villain route, study writers like Sara Zarr, David Levithan, John Green, Lauren Oliver, and many others. Their worlds are populated by kids who lack a mortal enemy, per se, but who still have plenty of internal and external conflict to give the story fireworks and momentum.

Plot is extremely difficult to do well. Hire me as your novel editor, maybe for a Reader Report service, where I will read your entire manuscript and comment on all of its key components, including plot, conflict, tension, and pacing.

Copyright © Mary Kole at Kidlit.com