Authors' Blog

Friday, May 7, 2010
Getting Published - Part 1

Are you dreaming of becoming a well-known writer, or have you actually written a book and now want to get it published and into bookstores? It's not impossible, though I'm not going to kid you - it is difficult. However, if you follow the ten steps below, your job of writing and publishing your first book will be much easier.

1. Finish the Book. If you're trying to get a fiction book published and you're a first time novelist, i.e., no track record, you're going to have to finish the entire book before any agent or publisher will even consider your work. Editors might like your idea, but they want to make sure you can deliver the goods - on time and extremely well written.

2. Target Your Book to a Specific Audience. We've all heard of "crossover" books. Books that are "literary science fiction" or a "horror romance." This might work for established authors, but first time authors will have to have a clearly defined audience in mind when either they or their agent markets their book. Be aware that editors will definitely want to know who your intended readership is. If you can't answer that question, editors will infer that you simply don't know enough about publishing to be published yourself. Try to define your book in one sentence.

3. Do Your Homework. This one applies whether you have an agent or not. Various agents and editors tend to specialize in various types of books. Some agents specialize in literary fiction, some editors in mysteries and thrillers. Whether you're searching for an agent or a publisher, know what each specific agent and editor wants. You can find this information in books like Writer's Market or Literary Market Place.

4. Send an Agent/Editor What He Asks For - No More, No Less. Some agents and editors want to see only a query letter first. Others initially want to see a query letter and the first three chapters. Others want an outline. Still others want the entire manuscript. If you're bypassing an agent (and I don't recommend that), there are some editors who will read manuscripts submitted by the author, and there are editors who will only read manuscripts submitted by an agent. Your job, in marketing your work, is to know exactly what an agent or publisher wants and then to submit that - no more and no less. Not until someone asks you. So, where do you find who wants what? Again, Writer's Market and Literary Market Place are two excellent sources.

5. Make Sure Your Submission is Professional. The best way to make an initial bad impression is to submit a poorly or unprofessionally prepared manuscript. You must print (laser printers only, no dot matrix) or type your manuscript on very high quality white (nothing else but white) bond paper. Never use onion skin or erasable paper. If you do, you can count on your work not even being read no matter how good it might be. Make sure you double space your manuscript and leave one-inch margins on all sides. Don't justify your right margin, however. Number your pages (what if a busy editor drops your manuscript?), and for goodness sake, use spell check. Use a 12-point font in either Courier or Times New Roman (I love Times New Roman). Never mix fonts and don't use boldface or italics unless the words are supposed to be in bold or italics in the printed book. The Writer's Digest Guide to Manuscript Formats will tell you all you need to know about preparing a professional manuscript. Several agents and a few editors will allow you to submit your work electronically, but don't count on this. Most are going to want a hard copy. Take a leaf from the Boy Scouts and be prepared.

(To be continued)

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Thought by many to be William Trevor's greatest work in a lifetime of great works, Felicia's Journey centers around eighteen-year-old Felicia (of course), an Irish girl adrift in the English Midlands searching for Johnny Lysaght, the young man who abandoned her in a rural Irish village, leaving her not only heartbroken but pregnant. Although Felicia's very patriotic father believes Johnny's run off to join the British Army (and Irish boys, he tells Felicia, should remain in Ireland), Felicia chooses instead to believe Johnny, despite the fact that he's never sent her a contact address as he promised to do. Believing he's working in a lawnmower factory in the Midlands, Felicia packs her bags and sets out across the Irish Sea. She's convinced that once she finds Johnny, he'll make things right — for her and for their baby.

Finding Johnny, however, is proving to be a far tougher job than Felicia counted on and her cash, never much to start with, is rapidly running out. Enter Mr. Hilditch, the catering manager in one of the factories in which Felicia goes searching. Middle-aged, a little overweight, and terribly alone and lonely, Mr. Hilditch, who seem quite innocuous at first, eventually offers Felicia his help. Although Felicia trusts him (she says he "isn't a man you can be alarmed about for long"), the reader soon realizes that being alone and pregnant is the least of Felicia's worries.

In some ways, Mr. Hilditch seems the most mild-mannered of men. He takes great pains to make sure the food served to the workers is pleasing food, food that is more than just nourishment. As he tells a salesman who wants him to automate the company's kitchen, "food should be served with caring hands, so that people feel loved."

The preparation and serving of food is something Mr. Hilditch knows quite a bit about. His late mother, Gala, was, in her prime, a TV chef and local celebrity. Mr. Hilditch, who has a lovely home complete with large, gourmet kitchen, routinely watches Gala's TV show videos as he prepares his own dinner, following his mother's instructions to the letter as he stuffs turkey and trusses up lamb.

Trevor, who loves writing about those on the fringes of society, has created a masterpiece of characterization with Hilditch. Although it slowly becomes clear to the reader that he's so much more than the helpful, genial catering manager he at first appears to be, Trevor has given us so much of his background, and has plumbed his depths so completely that we can only hate Hilditch's crimes. We find it rather more difficult to hate Hilditch, himself. In fact, at times, I found Hilditch even more sympathetic than Felicia, herself, who is not only naïve, but rather stupid as well. This did not mean, of course, that I wanted any harm to come to her. I didn't. But though I was rooting for her safety, I sometimes found myself thinking how foolish and risky her actions were and how blindly she trusted Johnny and romanticized their relationship.

While Felicia's Journey is a thriller in the sense that we're constantly on edge, worrying about the fate of this totally clueless but rather nice Irish girl, it's also a first-rate psychological study of the effects of child abuse, something that Trevor writes about masterfully.

Trevor's trademark irony is also evident in this novel as well. Hilditch, a master of the lie, manages to make Felicia ashamed for the few times she didn't trust him completely. "No one else had been so concerned" about her well-being, she muses. And shockingly, shamefully, we come to realize it's true. People in the Midlands have been anything but concerned.

Felicia's Journey is a beautifully layered, beautifully written, very emotionally restrained novel, like all of Trevor's work. Yet it is profound. Trevor works his by now familiar magic in making us not only understand, but feel sympathy for a madman. We understand how and why he does the things he does, and while we certainly don't want him to do them, we know it's not his fault that he does. Mr. Hilditch may, outwardly, be the very personification of evil, but we see, not only that evil, but also the pain that's causing it. He's an incredibly complex and complicated character, one of the finest Trevor's ever created.

Like almost all of Trevor's work, Felicia's Journey explores the workings of fate and chance. Felicia's life and Hilditch's life would, of course, have been different had fate not thrown them together. But from their initial meeting, however, it seems clear that life meant for their paths to cross. Both have something to give to the other, and both have something to take from the other. Both leave their indelible imprint on the other's life.

Also characteristic of Trevor's work are the marginalized characters, in particular, Miss Calligary, a "Bible gatherer," who, to a certain degree, both befriends and abandons Felicia, and annoys Mr. Hilditch. In some way, Miss Calligary and those like her are more tarnished than Hilditch. Hilditch at least has a reason for acting the way he does, a very good one. Miss Calligary apparently does not.

Trevor heightens the suspense in Felicia's Journey by giving us information only on a "need to know" basis. For example, we don't immediately learn that Felicia is pregnant, though astute readers might certainly suspect it, and it's certainly not a plot spoiler to know this information before you read the book. And though it's pretty clear from the get-go that Mr. Hilditch has an evil card or two up his sleeve, we really don't know for sure until the book is well underway and we're hooked.

Trevor's prose is as it always is: spare, unadorned, understated, and devastating. This is a case where "less" really is "more." Quite a bit more.

Felicia's Journey is a book (and a film starring the brilliant Bob Hoskins as Mr. Hilditch) that's impossible to forget. It gnaws at you. It begs you to read it "one more time" for the subtext alone, just to see what you've missed. Is it William Trevor's very best work? In my opinion, it's certainly among the top five, but for me, his masterpiece is still Two Lives, the book that contains the gorgeous Booker shortlisted Reading Turgenev and the very imaginative My House in Umbria. Choosing which of William Trevor's works is his masterpiece, though, is like choosing which chocolate truffle is most delicious. All are so good, that singling one out is really an impossible task.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

The Grammar Curmudgeon: Colons and Semicolons

I've been reading Hilary Mantel's masterful Booker winning Wolf Hall, and in it she makes extensive use of both colons and semicolons, punctuation that seems to confuse just about everyone from time-to-time. In this blog entry, we'll try to make things clear.

Uses of the Semicolon:

The semicolon is used to join independent clauses in compound sentences that do not have coordinating conjunctions (and, or, but, nor, for, so, yet) and commas as connectors. However, please note that words like "however," "moreover," "thus," and "therefore," and often used as connectors in compound sentences. These connectors still require the use of a semicolon.

I bought her clothing for Christmas this year; however, I usually buy her an accessory, like a bag.

Steven and John played very quietly today; both boys behaved themselves very well; therefore, both boys will get ice cream.

We saw fields of bluebells on our trip through Wales; bluebells are one of my favorite wildflowers.

Semicolons are also used to separate a list of long or complicated items in a series that already includes commas.

Representatives included Dr. James McCormick, Scotland; Dr. Peter Walsh, England; Dr. Sean McCoombs, Ireland; and Dr. Gustave Petit, France.

He was recommended for a promotion because he communicates well with customers, managers, and other wait staff; because he is prompt and courteous; and because he demonstrates the ability to organize people, materials, and time.

The semicolon is used to separate two long or complex independent clauses joined by a coordinating conjunction if confusing would result from the use of a comma.

Ishmael, the narrator in Moby-Dick goes to sea, he says, "whenever it is a damp, drizzly November" in his heart and soul; but Ahab, the captain of the ship, goes to sea because of his obsession to hunt and kill the great white whale, Moby Dick.

By the end of the workshop, participants will have learned how to structure their novel, create memorable characters, and how to bring their prose to life on the page; and if they complete all requirements, they will have wonderful writing tools at their disposal.

Uses of the Colon:

A colon is used after an independent clause that precedes a list.

The following are all common names in Ireland: McCourt, O'Dell, Tully, and O'Leary.

The community theatre will be producing the following plays: A Winter's Tale, May 10th; Waiting for Godot, June 16th; and The Glass Menagerie, August 20th.

There are three people here named Anne: Anne Stephens, Anne Tully, and Anne Kendall.

A colon is used to separate an explanation, rule, or example from a preceding independent clause.

After a sleepless night, Barbara made her decision: she would not take the job in Paris.

Poetry is more than an arrangement of words: it is an expression of deep and timeless feeling.

Use this easy reminder to remember which way to move the hands of a clock when changing to or from Daylight Savings Time: spring forward, fall back.

Use a colon after the salutation of a business letter.

Dear Mr. Patterson:

Dear Faculty Members:

Use a colon in the heading of a business memo.

TO:

FROM:

SUBJECT:

Use a colon between the hour and minutes.

5:30 a.m.

:30 p.m.

Use a colon between the chapter and the verse in the Bible, in citations from some literary works, and between the volume and the number of some publications.

Genesis 1: 12-20

Part 5: 421

Vol. 2: 89

A colon can properly be used as part of a title.

Green Power: A Primer on Recycling

A colon should be used between the place of publication and the name of the publisher.

New York, New York: Henry Holt, 2009

And there you have it. It's really not so difficult once you start using both the colon and the semicolon properly. We hope this helps.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Want a Different Perspective On An Old Legend?

When the dry leaves of autumn began to crumble into dust, when the winter wind began to howl through the bare branches of the giant maples on the front lawn, and when the first snowflakes began to fall, I wanted something really different to read, something very atmospheric and in keeping with the dark, gloomy days and long, seemingly interminable nights. I pulled one book after another off my shelves, but nothing filled the bill until I started reading Bram Stoker's Dracula.

I've seen so many movie versions of the Dracula legend and none of them, absolutely none, begin to do this book justice. It's so rich, so haunting, so tragic, so supremely human that once I picked it up, I just couldn't put it down. Even though I knew how things would work out, I didn't know how we'd get there, at least not in this book, and I got totally caught up in the story, totally involved with the characters.

Surprisingly, Dracula isn't Dracula's story. In Stoker's book, the Count spends most of his time "off-stage." This book really belongs to a small group of courageous victims who band together to defeat the forces of darkness.

Told in a series of letters and journal and diary entries, with the occasional newspaper clipping, the book opens when Jonathan Harker's small law firm sends him from London to Transylvania to complete a real estate transaction at Castle Dracula. Although the Count, on the surface, seems to be a charming and most accommodating host, Jonathan soon becomes suspicious, and after a long and unscheduled delay, follows the Count back to London.

In London, Harker and his bride, Mina, are drawn into the quest to end the Count's bloody reign of terror when Mina's dear friend, Lucy Westenra, falls victim to Dracula's inevitable bloodlust. They're joined by Lucy's fiancé, Lord Godalming, Godalming's friend, the psychiatrist, John Seward, and Dr. Seward's friend, the fearless Dutch vampire hunter, Abraham Van Helsing. Rounding out the group is a brave and gallant Texan, Quincey Morris, also a friend of Lord Godalming.

The story belongs to everyone in this group, and the point of view constantly shifts from one to the other depending on whose letter or journal we happen to be reading. Stoker really didn't work hard enough on giving each of his narrators a distinct voice (other than Lucy and Mina), but this didn't stop me from enjoying the story thoroughly. The one exception to this was Van Helsing. Van Helsing's extremely broken English, though easy enough to understand, started to grate on my nerves a bit once I passed the book's halfway point. By the time I reached the end, he started sounding just plain silly, and though he was good and brave and honest and kind, I began losing sympathy for him. Occasionally, other minor characters speak in an almost indecipherable dialect, but fortunately, their appearance in the book is limited to a paragraph or two, and their speech does nothing to stop or slow the book's momentum.

Dracula is, of course, a 19th century book, and because of that, some people are going to find the language stilted. For example, Lucy begins one of her letters to Mina with "Oceans of love and millions of kisses...." I doubt any woman would write to another in this manner today, but rather than feeling stilted, I felt it enhanced the book's atmosphere. It really gave me a terrific sense of time and place, and without that sense of time and place, the Dracula legend, at least for me, would have suffered.

So many people think of Dracula as "just" another horror story, or "just" another vampire legend, but nothing could be further from the truth. For me, this book was more of an adventure story, a very atmospheric adventure story. It was, of course, quite Gothic, something I really loved, and something I was really looking forward to. It certainly did not disappoint.

Bram Stoker was a prolific writer, but only one of his works, Dracula, is still widely read today. There's a good reason for that - the book is truly superb.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

William Trevor is an author who, I suspect, is talked about more in the US than he's actually read. Not that he doesn't have his fans here. He does. And they are fiercely loyal. I should know. I'm one of them.

Often called the "Irish Chekhov," Trevor, who was born in Mitchelstown, County Cork, Ireland on May 24, 1928 certainly shares many qualities with Chekhov, but his stories, at least in my opinion, are more scrupulously crafted. Chekhov turned his back on the well plotted story, preferring instead to make use of narratives that mirrored life, so were, more often than not, random and inconclusive. This inconclusiveness is, to me, what makes a story Chekhovian in nature. Chekhov, himself, once wrote to a friend, It is time writers, especially those who are artists, recognized that there is no making out anything in this world. In keeping with his view of life, Chekhov never judged his characters, and more often than not, he refused to explain their actions; he simply stated things "as they were."

Like Chekhov, and like Thomas Hardy, whom Trevor greatly admires and by whom he was influenced ("That's where all my tragedy comes from," he says), the Irish master's stories are filled with random happenings and small, dark, often violent, acts that instead of being forgotten, influence a life forever. But even with all the randomness in Trevor's stories, the thoughtful and careful reader will see how meticulously these stories are crafted, how every event, every word even, is chosen to make a point. No, Trevor doesn't tie up every loose end in a neat-and-tidy package, but his stories do say something significant, something other than "life has no point" and this is, to my way of thinking, very anti-Chekhovian. It is, as author William Boyd put it, "Trevorian."

Though William Trevor has won just about every prize literature has to offer (only the Booker and the Nobel still elude him, though he's been shortlisted for the Booker three times, longlisted once), I think he's often given short shrift by the public because of the "quietness" of his stories. There's no doubt that Trevor's novels and stories "stay with" the reader and resonate long after the final page is read, but there's also no doubt that this is an author who leaves the pyrotechnics of writing to others. Trevor's prose is gorgeous, but yes, it is subtle, so subtle that a less-than-careful reader might not "get it." Even his descriptions of his characters are spare — Their clothes were not new but retained a stylishness: her shades of dark maroon, her bright silk scarf, his greenish tweeds, his careful tie. — but oh, so precise. With William Trevor, "subtle" does not, in any way, indicate "vague."

And Trevor's prose is rather old-fashioned as well. Some readers have told me they find it difficult to empathize with Trevor's characters. I understand that problem. Trevor rarely (to be truthful, I can't recall one instance) uses the first person singular "I" so popular in modern writing, when telling a story. Instead, he takes an omniscient point-of-view, and, again as pointed out by William Boyd, this is something we'd expect to see more often in 19th century literature. But that doesn't make it bad or wrong. In fact, the omniscient point-of-view is the perfect point-of-view for the telling of Trevor's quiet, yet quietly devastating, works.

I remember a lively discussion that took place in one of the book groups to which I used to belong regarding the significance of the black monk is Anton Chekhov's story, "The Black Monk." It was a very divided discussion and one I'm sure would not take place regarding the motivation and manifestations of any of Trevor's characters.

Like Chekhov, Trevor refuses to judge his characters. Also like Chekhov, Trevor seems to lavish a great deal of love on the people he creates. He understands them. He knows what makes them do the things they do. And by the time we reach the end of one of his novels or stories, we understand his characters, too. Many of them, we may not like, but it's really near to impossible to misunderstand a character created by William Trevor or feel at least a twinge of sympathy with his plight. I've never read a work by William Trevor in which a reason for forgiveness, no matter how heinous his or her crime, can't be found.

While Chekhov loved to leave much to the reader's individual interpretation, Trevor does not. He has a point to make, and he makes it. His stories have a definite conclusion that he doesn't want the reader to miss. Consider these two ending sentences: Time would gather up the ends and see to it that his daughter's honoring of a memory was love that mattered also, and even mattered more. And in another, Silent, she had watched an act committed to impress her, to deserve her love, as other acts had been. And watching, there was pleasure. If only for a moment, but still there had been. Chekhov never made his point so clearly, nor did he want to do so.

Returning once more to William Boyd's article on William Trevor, Boyd stated, "Trevor is not the Irish Chekhov." This is true, and while the appellation is certainly meant as a compliment by those who bestow it, it's really unfair to both masters. Chekhov was Chekhov, and he was one of a kind. Those who come after him and resemble him in several ways are Chekhovian. Trevor is Trevor, and, like Chekhov, he's an original, and he's created a very personal and unique way of telling his stories. A way of storytelling that's so good he's often referred to as "the greatest person writing in the English language today," a statement I totally agree with. William Boyd got it right: Those writers who come after Trevor, if they are talented enough, and lucky enough, will no doubt be known as "Trevorian."

Sunday, October 11, 2009

By now, most of you know that the wonderful, and in my opinion, until now, underrated, British author, Hilary Mantel won the 2009 Man Booker Prize for her lovely and intricate novel Wolf Hall. Of course, my personal favorite was the longlisted Love and Summer by my favorite author of all time, the great William Trevor. Though Love and Summer isn't Trevor's finest novel (Reading Tugenev and The Story of Lucy Gault are Trevor at his very best), it's still "vintage Trevor" and it's a quiet, devastating "little gem" of a novel that deserves a far wider readership in the US. But enough of my choice for the Booker. Let's talk about the winner.

Wolf Hall chronicles Sir Thomas Cromwell's rise to power under King Henry VIII. Yes, it's a historical novel, but if you're thinking of Phillipa Gregory, get those thoughts out of your head. Mantel is a very literary writer, one who concentrates on richness of character more than on plot. And Mantel's prose is luminous and incandescent. She often weaves her plot strands together into one gorgeous braid. Wolf Hall can be a demanding book, but it's one that will reward its reader on every page. And Mantel gives us a new way to look at Cromwell, presenting him a far more positive light than heretofore.

Wolf Hall will be released in the US on October 13, 2009. If you haven't reserved or ordered your copy yet, do so today. This is a book, and an author, that can't fail to disappoint.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

I used to belong to a literature forum, and one of the burning questions there was always, "What is poetry?" The consensus among the forum members was that poetry was determined by beautiful language, but I can't agree with that. If language were the determining factor in what makes poetry poetry, then Irish novelist Edna O'Brien's lush, gorgeous prose would be poetry, and it's not. It's lush, gorgeous, poetic-like prose, but it's not poetry.

First, I think it's important to realize that poetry is the most compressed and unified form of literature, and the lyric poem is probably subject to more rules and constraints than any other form of writing.

I don't agree that beautiful language makes a poem because a poem, even a great poem, can be constructed from plain, everyday language, e.g., "The Purple Cow" by Gelett Burgess.

"I never saw a purple cow;/I never hope to see one;/But I can tell you anyhow;/I'd rather see than be one."

This is a poem, yet it uses no lyrically beautiful language. It's very conversational. And, like I've already mentioned, Irish novelist's Edna O'Brien's prose is poetically beautiful, but it's still not poetry.

The answer as to what distinguishes poetry from any other form of writing is - patterns. Patterns of sound. The patterns of sound are what distinguish poetry from other forms of literature, what gives the language its music. Free verse has rhythm and patterning, too, they just aren't as obvious or as regular as those found in more formal, lyrical poetry, but the repetitions of consonant and vowel sounds give free verse enough of a pattern to transform it into poetry.

Many people who write poetry but don't read poetry tend to write "rhyming verse," instead. It rhymes, but the lack of unity usually precludes it from being real poetry. I think these people need to study Federico Garcia Lorca's concept of "duende," - the emotional patterning that turns rhythm and sound into real poetry.

To sum up, I think, and this is only my opinion, it is the intertwining of sound patterns - of consonants, vowels, and rhythm, that makes poetry, poetry. Life is made up of patterns, and poetry, more than any other form of writing, delves straight to the center of life.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

If you've ever submitted a short story to a magazine for publication, you know how easy it is to just give up when the rejection slips start coming in, and they will come in, even if your story is magnificent. Still, new writers are being published almost every day, and with a lot of dedication and hard work, you could be one. But, you have lots and lots of competition, so your story's going to have to be very, very good.

First, do your research about which publications are right for you and your story. Grab a copy of the current Novel and Short Story Writers' Market. This indispensable book lists thousands of publications and gives you enough relevant information about each so you can make a decision as to whether your story is likely to find a warm welcome or a rejection at the magazine you've been considering.

It's also imperative you read as many literary magazines as possible that publish work similar to your own writing style. Why? Because you need to stay abreast of what's being published, and because you don't want to submit a story, no matter how good, to a magazine that's just published one very similar in plot or theme to yours.

If you're not determined to see your story printed on actual paper, you might want to try an online literary site. The upside of this is that there are a lot of online literary journals, and most of them consider novice writers. The downside is that though you'll be published, your chances of being read won't be nearly as great as if you'd been published in a traditional magazine, instead.

If you really, honestly, truly believe your story is stellar, but you lack publication credits, you might consider entering it in a contest. You'll have to pay an entry fee in the range of $10 - $20 per entry, and the prizes will probably range from nothing but publication to $5,000. Just make sure the contest is legitimate because there are a few bad apples out there that can spoil the whole barrel.

Whatever you decide: Happy writing and good luck.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Often, the success or failure of a screenplay will depend on the success or failure of its logline.

A logline conveys the dramatic core of a screenplay in the most compact manner possible. It presents the story's throughline without the intricacies of character and subplot. The best loglines are only one sentence long, though two sentences is acceptable, especially for films with complex plots, such as Robert Towne's Chinatown.

Most writers have a very difficult time extracting the core of their story and creating an effective logline, and crafting an effective logline does require a thorough understanding of dramatic structure and more than a little practice. I know experienced writers who write one hundred or more loglines before finding the perfect one.

To those just beginning their study of screenwriting, it might seem absurd to sum up a 120-page screenplay in only one or two sentences. Loglines, however, are an integral part of the screenwriter's craft, and until Hollywood devises something different, loglines will remain an integral part of screenplay marketing.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Working together yesterday, Mark and I managed to complete the second draft of our screenplay adaptation of Graceland. We've whittled it down from about 170 pages to 119 pages and neither of us feels we've sacrificed any of the story's integrity. We're just telling part of the story with visuals now, rather than with words.

Working on Graceland continues to be a real labor of love for both Mark and for me, and it's so much fun

Thursday, June 11, 2009

In his workshops and classes, Mark always stresses the importance of detail in order to add authentication, richness, and texture to our work. As a student of Mark's, I learned to make proper use of detail in my own short stories. The first story I wrote in one of Mark's workshops was detailed, but it was the wrong kind of detail. It was sappy, sentimental, and despite the detail, vague.

Mark usually doesn't have to tell me the same thing twice. I took his advice to heart, and the next story I wrote was much improved. The detail I used in that one worked and worked well. And it worked even better in the next story, which Mark described as "mesmerizing from beginning to end."

If you'd like to read how to effectively use detail in your writing, read Mark's article here: http://bit.ly/iV9Zm

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Many novelists say they just begin writing and see where that writing takes them. Others say they "let their characters write the novel." (I've never really understood that one since the characters are the creation of the writer and not real people.) However, when writing a novel, whatever works, really works, for the writer, is the method he or she should employ. Writing a screenplay is different, though. In a screenplay, we only have 120 pages in which to tell our story, so that story has to be very tightly focused. Viewers know, within the first ten minutes of a film, whether or not they're going to like that film. (Don't believe it? Try it the next time you watch a film and see.) In order to write an effective and compelling beginning for your screenplay, you first must KNOW YOUR ENDING. This is something screenwriting guru Syd Field stresses over and over again, and its importance can't be ignored.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Adapting a novel for the screen is somewhat different than writing an original screenplay. Which is easier? It's impossible to say. Some people excel at writing original screenplays, while a few excel at adaptation. The late Anthony Minghella was a genius at adaptation. Personally, I feel the films he adapted for the screen – "The English Patient" and "Cold Mountain" just for starters – are much better than the books.

Graceland presents its own special problems and rewards in adapting it for the screen, but Mark and I are up to the task, and as with the writing of the novel, working on the screenplay is also a labor of love.

Monday, June 1, 2009

An agent has requested the full manuscript of Graceland, so Mark and I are hoping this agent will see the "specialness" of the story and decide to represent the novel and us. Of course, if it's not this particular agent's cup of tea, then we'll move on. We know Graceland will find a home – a good home – sooner or later, though we'd rather have it be sooner.

Working on Graceland has been a special time for both Mark and me because it's been so much fun as well as being a complete labor of love.

The screenplay still needs some rewriting and polishing, so we've still got some work ahead of us - which is fine.