What does a good editor do?

Why do I need a book editor?

If you plan to submit your manuscript to traditional publishers, you should eliminate all possible errors in advance. Manuscript submissions may be rejected for the simplest of reasons. Likewise, you could be unknowingly committing major errors. You have only one opportunity to make a first impression with a publisher; a professional edit will maximize the impression you make.
If you plan to self-publish, you’ll want your printed book to compare favorably with traditionally published books, all of which are subjected to thorough edits; that’s what assures consistent quality from one book to the next. To maximize your self-publication experience, have your manuscript professionally edited and avoid potential embarrassment by correcting all errors prior to printing. Some self-publishing or POD companies include a full edit in their publishing package, but if you can show your book has already been professionally edited, they will usually waive that fee.

What can I expect from a book edit?

Using motifs in writing fiction is one of the most powerful and evocative ways of getting across your themes in your novel. Few authors use them, and few use them well. My favorite novels of all time are ones that use motifs beautifully throughout their novel, and these elements weaving through their stories tend to stay with me for months and years after I've read the book. Why is that, and just what are motifs and how can they be utilized effectively in fiction?

Two definitions of motif in Merriam-Webster's give a good feel for what a motif is: "a dominant idea or central theme; a single or repeated design or color." Think about a motif as a splash of color that you are adding to your story palette--a very noticeable, specific color that appears from time to time and that "blends in" beautifully with the overall picture you are painting. As an example, you could say that I just introduced a motif in this discussion by using the concept of color to emphasize my theme.

Motifs can be an object, an idea, a word or phrase, a bit of speech--and you can combine these in your novel to create richness. I like to have at least two or three motifs woven in my novel, and I'll give you an example by referring to my contemporary drama/mystery Conundrum.

In Conundrum, my protagonist, Lisa, is searching to uncover the truth regrading her father's bizarre death twenty-five years earlier. Her interest and effort is prompted by her brother's suicidal bipolar condition, which she believes is exacerbated by the myths and burdens surrounding their father's death. So as Lisa embarks on this journey, I brought into play a number of motifs. the first is obvious--the word conundrum, which is the overall theme and serves as the title. The best use of a motif is in your title, and a great title will tie in to your book's theme, often as both a motif and a double meaning. for example--Jodi Picoult's book titles often do this, as seen in Saving Faith ("faith" being both the girl character's name and hinting at her need of being saved) and Plain Truth (where "plain" refers to the Amish people by that name as well as the book's plot wherein the plain truth needs to be revealed in the case of a mysterious murder among the Amish). So, in Conundrum, I open the novel with an actual word conundrum, one that has great symbolism to Lisa's quest. She tells of how she and her brother told conundrums through their teen years, and then I introduce a specific conundrum that serves as another motif in the book.

Lisa's father's speciality was in boolean algebra. Lisa discovers a conundrum based on that algebraic formula of "and, or, or not." What I did, then was take two motifs--the conundrum and the father's profession, and found a way to tie them together--which is a great thing to do. Throughout the novel, Lisa comes across clues that make her think "and, or, or not." Her quest is one big conundrum. and the next motif comes from the actual conundrum she found--where two guards each stand in front of a door, each claiming they guard the door to enlightenment, but one is lying and one is telling the truth. The conundrum requires the puzzle-solver to figure out which door really does lead to enlightenment. You can imagine why I was so thrilled to run across this conundrum, as it represented Lisa's search for truth (enlightenment) but with the confusion of not just many doors but many guards claiming they were telling the truth.

I hope you can see here the motifs at work and how, throughout a novel, these can surface to bring cohesion to a story. You can use an object, like a balloon for example, to symbolize important qualities. A balloon could represent freedom, the need for release. A slow-g

When I started my fast last week, I really hadn't spent any time researching fasting from a biblical standpoint. Years ago I used to fast for six days every few months as a healthy way to clean out my "system" and it always felt great.

But this fast was begun out of desperation. I needed to hear God in my situation, and needed serious intervention. All I could think of was I needed to show God I was downright serious about getting his help now and urgently. I didn't know if what I was doing was right or wrong; I felt a bit like I was giving God an ultimatum--that if he didn't help me, I would continue to fast and either he would step in and show he cared or I would eventually waste away and die.

Okay, I know that sounds immature and ridiculous, but when you are faced with an unbearable need and feel your prayers are hitting the ceiling of your house and falling splat on the ground like dead birds, it can affect your faith. My faith felt shattered and puny. I'm just being honest here.

It wasn't until last evening that I sat down and did some research about fasting as to what the Bible says about it. I found some amazing articles and looked up a lot of Scriptures and it was only then, five days into my fast, that I saw how God's spirit had led me into this intense period of devotion.

Without going into pages of information, I will just make a list of the amazing things I learned about fasting. I will not cite the Scriptures, but these things are with biblical precedent. But I was amazed to see the power of fasting and its uses.

One thing, though, that stuck out to me is something I was already aware of. That Jesus said, "When you fast ..." and proceeded to tell his disciples how they should behave. He didn't say "if." He also said before his death that after he was crucified his followers would fast. And there are numerous accounts in the NT of the apostles and disciples fasting for various reasons. Obviously Jesus felt fasting was an important part of worship. He wants us to do it. But it is important to know why and how you do it. I 'm not going to get into the logistics about how to fast and how to break a fast and all that. That's a whole other topic. But here's what stuck with me:

• Many people believe that fasting is to move the hand of God, when in actuality it is to make Satan turn loose the things he is holding. I felt this keen sense that my family was under some sort of demonic hold, a spirit of lies that we could not break.


• When we fast, we undo the heavy burden and break every yoke of the enemy. Fasting is an important key to getting the victory over a hard situation that does not seem to respond to normal prayer. This hit home, big-time for me. We had been praying years about certain issues and could not break free through all the hours of agonized prayer we had sent heavenward.


• Fasting builds our faith. When Jesus said a particular demon couldn't be cast out except through prayer and fasting, he implied fasting has a particular power over demonic holding. And then he chastised those around them for their lack of faith. Fasting, then, builds that faith.


• Fasting is a form of afflicting our souls. It suppresses the flesh and heightens our spiritual sensitivity.


• Fasting stirs up zeal and renews dedication and commitment to God.


• Fasting produces spiritual results, breakthroughs in the spirit or in personal life, like in relationships and finances. Somehow God imbues power in fasting, a power that can break through intense obstacles and barriers.


• You fast when you want a breakthrough in understanding a situation, an answer to a problem, divine directi
  2 Comments on Life in the "Fast" Lane, last added: 7/5/2011
  Display Comments
  Darla said, on 7/4/2011 10:05:00 PM
  

  Your post has been a answer to my prayer. I've felt like I was suppose to fast but knew nothing about it! THANK YOU!

  Harry Kraus said, on 7/5/2011 3:53:00 PM
  

  I'm glad for your blog. So many people fast, thinking they will "purchase" an answer from a silent God. But grace doesn't work that way, does it? God's posture of grace doesn't change towards us. It is love if we fast and love if we don't. Fasting isn't a way of bargaining with God, or twisting his divine arm. Fasting is like tuning a radio that has gotten a bit off the exact number of the station. Fasting is to change me; not God's posture towards me.
  Grace!
  Harry

  Add a Comment

No, that's not a typo. Since Father's Day is approaching, I thought it might be appropriate to discuss fathers. Two of my recently written novels center around the theme of fathers. I didn't really realize that until I started thinking about this post. Since I grew up without a father, it's interesting how God put this topic in my heart in a big way. Both Conundrum and Intended for Harm are hugely about the experience of having or not having a father in one's life. Yet, the truth is, growing up, I hardly ever thought about it. Not having a father around was very normal for me. When I went to my friends' houses, I rarely saw their fathers, who were either away at work or sequestered in a quiet room in the house far from the noisy kids. So fathers, to me, were fairly nebulous, absent figures.

In earlier posts, I talked about how God gave me the assignment to write Conundrum--which is nearly an autobiography about my father's mysterious death in 1961. To me, it's an unsolved mystery, and although I even researched into it and visited my uncle, whom I hadn't seen since I was ten, I learned nothing that could shed light on how he had died. (You'll have to read the book to see how strange the circumstances were.) But throughout the book, my protagonist, Lisa, explores feelings foreign to her--what having a dad must be like, and what she missed out on. By the end of the book, she comes to feel she finally knows much about this man, but in my life, I draw a big blank.

Which leads me to my latest book: Intended for Harm. I had thought all I was doing was telling a modern-day story of Joseph from the Bible. I had planned to explore the effects of merged marriages and favoritism and abandonment. But God kept pulling me to pay attention to something else. And that was the role of Jacob as a father, in light of his mistreatment by his own father, Isaac. And all this comes front and center in the book as Jacob (Jake) cannot fathom the concept of a father God who cares about him.

I spoke to many who had been raised by absent, abusive, or mean fathers. I began to learn that many people, men especially, have a very hard time accepting God as a father because their own father represents a negative figure. When I talked to a good friend about how she could always be so trusting and positive that God loved her so much and cared about her life, she told me she was raised by an amazing father--one who loved, accepted, and encouraged her throughout her childhood. Transferring that concept over to our heavenly Father was no problem for her. Her trust comes naturally. but it doesn't for many of us. All I had was a critical mother who betrayed and emotionally battered me and my children. She was not a father figure, but she was a parental figure, and so I found that much of my insecurity and sense of unworthiness in God's sight came from her mistreatment of me.

If you were raised by a loving father, give thanks. Tell him how much you love him, and realize he is precious. I wish I had a father I could say those things to. You, in essence, have a "father along" as you journey farther along life's path, which is a sweet gift. Now, at this time in my life, I feel the absence of a father more than I did as a child. I do believe I will see my real father in the next world, as I understand he accepted Jesus right before he died of leukemia, which in itself is an amazing story (for a very devout Jew in hospice in a Catholic hospital). I learned a lot through this exploration of fathers and God as Father. I hope that the deep, troubled feelings my characters process as they deal with their fathers or lack thereof will bring encouragement, enlightenment, and gr

We just covered a few sessions on first scene structure, and there is so much more to that. However, since I'm gearing up to start teaching workshops at conferences this summer and fall on screenwriting-related topics, I thought I'd share some of the techniques I'll be teaching on. In particular, how to utilize camera direction in your novel to make it dynamic and physically "moving" as opposed to static, which is often the case in scene structure.

Having been raised by a prominent screenwriter/TV producer, I was surrounded by piles of scripts in my house. Even though I read a lot of books as a kid, I probably read just as many screenplays. My mother was often story editor on TV shows (like Mod Squad) or the principal writer/producer/creator (The Rookies, Flamingo Road, The Doctors, Peyton Place, and the list could fill a page). My first job at age ten was collating my mother's Doctors' scripts, which required my pulling out the messy sheets of carbon papers from between the typewritten (yes, using a manual typewriter) pages of script. Each half-hour episode would be about thirty pages, and I had to put the four final copies together for five shows a week, month after month, for my mother to mail to NY from CA.

The first proposal I submitted was at about age twelve, with a story pitch for the show called The Woman from U.N.C.L.E. I still have the rejection letter from the producer--my first of many to come over the years. Although I worked on projects with my mother in developing ideas for TV Movies-of-the-Week MOW) and series "Bibles" (6-12 months' plotting for the show) for which I actually got paid, I never did write a script that sold. My brother went on to become one of Hollywood's top TV screenwriters and will go down in infamy as the man who "shot JR" the years he produced and wrote for Dallas. (Yes, he came up with the idea and wrote the script, never thinking it would become such hot stuff.)

I say all this as a preface to the following material. When you are raised on TV sets and reading scripts your whole life, your writing is greatly influenced by this visual medium. I once had my high school English teacher tell me, "If you can visualize what you are writing as a movie, you will write well." Sol Stein says in his book On Writing: “Twentieth-century readers, transformed by film and TV, are used to seeing stories. The reading experience for a twentieth-century reader is increasingly visual. The story is happening in front of his eyes."

So, writers today are being told "show, don't tell." Those long pages of narrative we used to see in best-selling novels are a thing of the past. You will still see some impressive narration in literary novels today, and a terrific writer can paint evocative and gripping images that tells rather than shows, but for most writers, their books are going to flop if they cannot create scenes that are visually stirring, visceral, emotive, and dynamic. One of the main ways to achieve this is by using camera techniques in your writing.

Since I've used up quite a bit of space just in the intro here, I won't go too deep in this first post about camera technique, but what I plan to do is explore some of the camera angles used in film and show how you can translate that into your novel in a visual way. We are going to look at stationary angles like close-up (CU) shots, establishing shots (ES), Insert, montage, series of shots, and long shots (LS). We are also going to look at moving camera directives such as zoom, pan, angle on, follow, find, and pull back. Once you learn to see your scenes as if you are the director and you specifically choose camera angles and techniques to play out your scene, you will have a whole new perspective on writing.

I often have people say to me, "I could just picture your book as a movie the whole time I was reading it." That doesn't necessarily mean it's a great book when someone says that. But for me, it validates the way I write and the deliberateness of how I write. Before I write every sce

To briefly review what I introduced last month, I'll mention the first important elements again (and if you want more elaboration, retrieve that blog entry and peruse it).

Some of the main points discussed involved picking just the right starting place to begin your book. This means the story starts in present action, in the middle of something happening, with your POV character right in the situation and revealing her (or his) fears, dreams, needs, or goals and the obstacle that is in the way and presenting a problem. The visible "goal" of your protagonist needs to be revealed in some measure in the first few pages, and what we'll explore today is the need to establish both the plot question and the spiritual question your book is raising.

You may not have a deeply themed book, but there must be some reason you are writing this story. What is it about? If you were asked, "Why did you write this book?" (and spend months, maybe years of your life doing so!), how would you answer? Hopefully, there is a specific thing you want to say to your readers. It doesn't have to be a "message" or sermon on life, but every story deals with themes on one level or another, and your views as a writer will come through the story, sometimes whether you intend it or not. Better to begin a book with intention--intending to say something and leave your readers with that "take-home" thought when they read the last line and close the book. This ties in with your MDQ or major dramatic query.
I've never seen in any book on writing a novel the importance of setting up your dramatic query or question regarding plot alongside the protagonist's spiritual question. This is something I gleaned from Davis Bunn's intensive workshop at Mount Hermon two years ago. Learning this was a revelation to me, and took my writing to a much higher level. Now, with every novel I write, I begin with this.

The MDQ or major dramatic query is a yes-or-no question you ask at the start of the book. It's a question that MUST be addressed in the first scene, as it sets the stage for the entire novel. It is also called (by Michael Hague) the "visible goal" or plot goal. Your question may be "Will Mary save her brother before he kills himself?" or "Will Frodo destroy the ring and save Middle Earth before Sauron gets his hands on it?" or "Will Dorothy make it back to Kansas or be stuck with those munchkins for the rest of her life?" You get the idea. The are only a few variations of this plot question and they involve the character either getting something or somewhere, saving someone, finding something, or escaping something. Now, the answer that you reveal at the end of the book can be either yes or no. Maybe Dorothy will, after all, end up living in munchkin land, but she might enjoy it, and find her true path to happiness there. You're the writer; it's your choice.

But now we turn to another MDQ, and that's the spiritual question. It's a little harder to pinpoint, but it reveals the heart of your character and the heart of your story. Without it, you might have an exciting plot but will anyone really care about the story, or even read it to the end? Without a spritual question for your protagonist, the answer may be no. When I say "spiritual" question, I am not talking about faith or faith-based stories. Every good story has one. A question that involves the character's spirit--her heart--is what we're concerned with.
Think about Frodo. His MDQ spiritual question might be: "Will Frodo be able to live with himself and his world by the end of the book if he makes the choice to undertake his journey?" or "Will Frodo find peace and inner joy through his journey to destroy the ring, even if it kills him?" Dorothy's spiritual question might be: "Will Dorothy find her place in the world, feel she fits in, feel at home somewhere?" Think about how these spiritual MDQs are raised at the start of the stories, alongside the plot MDQs. Now, what it crucial to realize is that BOTH questions get answered AT THE SAME TIME AND IN

Because I read hundreds of first chapters of novels a year as a writing coach and copyeditor, I've been compiling my list of essentials for a first scene. When you think of all you have to accomplish in the first few pages of a novel, you really understand how writing a great first scene requires numerous hours of study, practice, and concentration. It takes examining successful, long-lasting novels to see how that first scene was constructed. Have you ever read a first chapter that took your breath away? Made you cry? Shocked you? If you can accomplish an emotional reaction in your reader that quickly--hopefully by a quick attachment to your protagonist--half your battle is won.

Without sending you into cardiac arrest by listing nearly twenty important items you need in that first scene, I'm going to concentrate on some important ones--the ones that really need to be considered. Some of them are essential "do-nots." And the first one you may already know (but often feel so tempted to fall back on): No back-story.

Okay, we've heard that forever. But it's true. In order to start your story with a punch and draw your reader in, you need to construct a scene happening right here and now (or with something in the past, like a historical, right then and now). Regardless of the semantics here, you get the point. Some writing instructors say things like "no back-story in the first fifty pages." Some editors will be so bold as to say they would be happy if they saw NONE in the entire book. Maybe that won't quite work for your book, but it's safe to say that countless scenes start with a line or two in the present and then, whoosh! There you are reading about the character's early life or marriage or something she did right before the scene started. Which should make you ask...

Are you really starting your story in the right place? More often than not, the answer is no. That's what second and third drafts are for--throwing out your first scene or two. Most of the books I read don't "get going" until page twenty. All that up-front explaining, narrative, setting up the scene, etc., was all great back in Dickens's time (A Tale of Two Cities, for example). But we don't do that anymore. TV, movies, and video games have changed the modern reader's tastes and they want cinematic writing (so says Donald Maass in The Fire in the Fiction).

So how do you avoid the dreaded info dump and back-story? Think about the emotion, feeling, or sensation you want to evoke in your reader. You want to put them in a mood right away. You want to be specific to generate that mood, which means bringing in all the senses and showing your character in the middle of a situation, right off the bat.

And that's the next essential element: establishing immediately (did I say immediately?) the drives, desires, needs, fears, frustrations of your protagonist. Not only do you need to show her in conflict, in the midst of an inciting incident, but you need to reveal her heart, hint at her spiritual need, show her vulnerability, and what obstacles are standing in her way. In the first scene? Oh yes. Yes.

On top of all this, you must give the reader some idea of what the book is about--the theme or point--what they are getting into and why they should care. A tall order? You bet. But think--why are you writing this story anyway? What is the one thought, message, idea, conclusion, or feeling you want your readers to take home with them when they finish reading your book and set it down? Whatever that is should be set up in the first few pages, even if just a hint of a promise of what to expect. If your book is about forgiveness, then something about forgiveness or lack thereof must be an important element of your opening scene.

So, once you have all this in mind, think what scene would best set up your premise, plot arc, character arc, theme, and mood. You may have to write a bunch of different first chapters, as I sometimes do. Sometimes it's not until you near the end of writing your book do yo

As I begin the upward climb to the big finale of my latest novel, Intended for Harm, I've been dwelling more and more on the themes of the book and how to bring them out in a powerful way. As with all my books, I am prompted to write this particular story because a key idea drives me--whether it be about jealousy, revenge, greed, grief, or betrayal. Intended for Harm, a modern-day story of Jacob and his family, is all about the wounds we receive in life (emotionally) and the lies we come to believe as a result.

Each of my nine main characters--Jake, his first and second wives, his six children--have suffered, much as we all do in life. I always aim for a psychological study of human nature--what are our core needs and what happens when those needs aren't met. With more than 400 pages written so far, I've come to care so much about these wounded, hurting people and have found my title (reflecting my main theme) becoming an interesting concept to ponder.

The title of the book comes from Genesis 50:20: "What you intended for harm, God intended for good, for the saving of life..." This is a little bit of tweaking on my part, but the gist is there. We often look at the hurtful experiences in our lives as harmful, and they are. They hurt. And sometimes the person doling out the hurt does intend our harm. There's no denying that is a reality in our world, in our fallen state.

But God is above our petty, sinful nature. He is perfect, omniscient, and leads us for our good. Most of us are familiar with the verse in Romans 8 that says all things work for the good of those who love God. We read in Hebrews 12 how he disciplines us for our good. Good things come from endurance; suffering builds character.

I've been thinking about intention. Human intention versus divine intention. How God never intends harm. He knows the plans he has for us, to give us a future and a hope, for good and not for harm. God intends good things for us, but sometimes, like the Bible says, we direct our own steps and come to harm. Which gets me thinking about my own actions and the intentions behind them. When I speak or act, what exactly are my intentions? Are they to honor and lift up God? Are they to encourage others and help them? Or are they self-serving, stemming from pride, a need for attention, or a desire to push ahead of another?

It was God's intention from the beginning of time to provide a way out of sin and death, and everything he did as time moved forward was meant to realize that intention, culminating at the cross. If we truly believe God intends good for us, shouldn't that shift the way we see trials and disappointments in our lives? If we know, in the long run, that God intends us to become more like his son, so that we can live with him forever in perfect love and gratitude, shouldn't we think a bit before complaining about our life?

I know I have a lot to learn to get to a place of acceptance. I still grumble, worry, experience envy and disappointment. But under it all, I know God is doing a work in me, however painful, and his intention is for my good, not my harm. If I can remember this each day, my path will feel smoother and my trust and appreciation will grow. That is my prayer today for us all.

I've been enjoying this strange, intriguing journey of writing short scenes in my new novel, Intended for Harm, inspired by a book I had read many years ago: Palm in the Hand stories by Japanese Nobel laureate Kawabata. When I began plotting out my novel and knew I had to unveil a family drama over a period of forty years, I saw immediately how to construct it--inspired by Kawabata's intriguing style of creating complete short stories that filled roughly one page.

I've always loved short stories and admired the craft. Writing a short story is much harder than a novel; you have to boil down everything you mean to say and imply in the fewest words possible. Flannery O'Connor, Raymond Carver, and Alice Munroe are my top favorites; they are able to capture a slice of life in a short scene that tells so much more than is put in words. Implication, to me, is the most powerful and artful way of writing, and so I envisioned my novel as comprising each year as a chapter, with a handful of short scenes that would cover about fifteen minutes of time--my version of a palm in the hand story.

Silly me--I had thought Kawabata was the creator of such an amazing idea. I didn't know that authors like Hemingway, Vonnegut, Kafka, and Chekhov had also written in this manner on occasion. And I didn't even know that the current rages of "flash fiction" and "sudden fiction" were describing this very thing. I looked up these terms and discovered flash fiction is usually for a short piece between 300-1000 words, whereas sudden fiction is over 1000 words. Maybe sudden implies a longer lengthy moment than flash. Not sure who came up with these definitions, but the term "flash fiction" is though to have been coined by the 1992 anthology of that name.

Of course, my scenes are not exactly sudden fiction, since they are not complete stories in themselves, but I do try to create the sense that each scene is a complete vignette or slice of life in itself. The challenge for me is to come up with an ordinary moment, not a string of key, suspenseful, benchmark moments in the lives of the Abrams family. Rather, I want to take a slice out life, fifteen minutes out of an ordinary day, and reveal the emotional landscape of the characters at that moment. Sure, I am putting in conflict, unspoken needs, hidden fears, unvoiced dreams. But instead of a continuity of time, where one scene generally flows close in time out of the previous, all these scenes are separated by many months. Which creates a huge writing challenge. The tendency for many writers would be to slop up the scenes with massive amounts of back story to catch the reader up to the present moment. but that would weigh down the story and defeat the whole structure. instead, it takes careful thought to move the reader along through the years at a fast clip, building character arcs and aging characters, yet keeping some sort of flow to the whole thread stitching it together. Needless to say, it's a great challenge but seems to be working.

I would encourage readers to pick up Kawabata's book and read these beautiful tales so full of life, pain, and poignancy. In a hurry-up world, it makes sense that flash fiction has come into vogue, with its many online ezines and other outlets for writers to post their stories. Again, I will reiterate my belief (and maybe some of you are tiring of hearing it)--more isn't necessarily better. In fact, less is almost always more. if you can learn how to be succinct and moving by trimming to to the bare essence of a thought, a moment, a glance, you can produce a powerful effect. Sometimes just a few words can have more force than 1,000. So thing, mull, choose carefully. find the best word, the best phrase, the best paragraph to say what you mean. And then say it in less words. Perhaps if all writers wrote one short piece of flash fiction each week, and then polished it to perfection, it would help train us to be better word handlers, and not just throw out the first things that come to mind onto the page--which a

From time to time I make a comment on Facebook about Word Count. Granted--and I need to get this out of the way first--some authors are under contract. Some very much need to schedule themselves to write a certain amount of words each day in order to meet a pressing deadline. I get that. Although I will still argue that's a skewed way to look at writing a novel. Why not make it a goal to complete one scene or chapter a day? That's how I set my writing goals, but I will now explain why I don't worry too much about sticking to them.

I try very hard to steer as far away from word count observances as possible. Sure, from time to time I check my word count. It helps me to see, when I think I'm halfway through a novel, just how many words I may end up with. My novels range from 75k words to 130k words. This new WIP is looking like it's going to far pass any previous books in word count. But that doesn't matter at all. A book should be as long as it is supposed to be to tell the story properly.

I have some strong sentiments about the whole word count issue, and they are pretty negative. Why? Because we live in a world that puts emphasis always on quantity, not quality. More is better. And even more is even more better. Writers tend to brag and compete. "I wrote five thousand words today." "I wrote five thousand words today standing on my head and cooking a gourmet dinner for eighteen people." And so it goes. How does it make most normal non-superman-type writers feel? Just plain lousy.

Another thing: It's not just society, but our churches have, sadly, become works-driven. You are a good Christian if you can write a long list of all the "things" you do to prove you are faithful. I enjoyed listening recently to a CD on this topic. The speaker asked a number of old-time, very faithful believers what they would say to God when they got to heaven when he asked this question: "Why should I let you in?" Believe it or not, yes, these people all answered with variations of the same answer: "Oh, well, I've been attending church faithfully for sixty years. I led Bible study for decades. I supported missionaries and donated to xxx causes..."

Horrors! Do you see the problem here? And the very wrong answer. There is only one correct answer as to why God should allow you, me, or anyone into his kingdom, and that is this: "Jesus died for my sins and paid the entrance price. I do not, on my own merit or because of anything I did, deserve to be here."

What does this have to do with word count? I am not going to stand at heaven's gate and say to God: "Well, I wrote an average of 3,000 words a day, to prove I was faithful." Do you really think God cares about your word count? What if you feel called to write, but it takes you a lifetime to pull together a short little story that burns on your heart to write? That must mean you have failed! This nanowrimo month, although a good exercise in discipline (National Novel Writing Month, where you commit to writing an entire novel in the month of November), is only more grist for the grinding mill--the mill that grinds your soul and creativity into a million little pieces.

I can't tell you how relieved I felt when listening to two hugely successful best-selling, Pulitzer-prize-winning authors at the Book Expo in New York who said that they took 4-5 years to write each book. That made me feel good. I had been writing a very difficult novel and it was stretching into a full year to complete. I felt like I was slipping. But I needed a lot of time to think and plot out the story. And this is my last beef about word count.

I have heard many writers say that the important thing is just to write. Make yourself sit down each day and push yourself to write something. That if you just keep writing thousands and thousands of words, inspiration will follow. I completely disagree. I've noticed that writers who pump out thousands of words end up having very little of interest to say. Again, it's quantity over quality. I will say again for th

Intended for Harm. That's the title and theme of my new novel. I'm now about fifty thousand words into it, but have only just begun this family saga. As always, I learn a lot as a book progresses. It's as if while I write, its secrets begin to spill out. Not just characters' secrets, but the subtext that probably comes from my subconscious. We are told to write what we are passionate about, and to create characters that have something to say or that portray something important.

I was given a huge burst of inspired creativity one afternoon as I sat on my deck overlooking the redwoods and the creek. I knew one of my characters--Leah--seemed a lot like water, and I started seeing images and qualities of water and how that metaphor fit her personality and behavior. It struck me at that moments that Jacob, too, had an "earth" quality--wood. Years ago I studied a bit about five elements acupuncture, and thought how treatment of illness was related to how balanced or imbalanced someone's elements were in relation to their health. There is a fascinating correlation to the natural elements, seasons, and cycles, and health. You can have too much metal or not enough fire. Suddenly, all nine of my characters could be associated with an element, and that element grew into a metaphor and symbolism for that character. Since I'm first a poet and love language and metaphor, this eye-opening idea flowed into pages of notes and now that I'm deep into the story, I've been discovering how these characters are entwined with their element.

People often ask writers how much of themselves they put into their characters and story. Apart from my mostly autobiographical novel Conundrum, I usually don't consciously put myself or those I know in my books. But of course, I draw from the hurt, frustration, and disappointment I've experienced in life. I've had dreams dashed, been betrayed by family, lost hope. I found it odd that Romantic Times, in giving Someone to Blame a glowing review, said the book was well-researched, which I suppose referred to to the topic of suicide and grief. I had another reviewer say I must have experienced this type of loss to have written it so well. But I haven't. I've known friends and family who have attempted and committed suicide, but I didn't research it, nor did I really think about those people. I think that an author who has experienced many different pains in life can pull from those experiences and morph them into different stories.

My high school English teacher told me all those decades ago that if you are a good actor and can immerse yourself in the role of your characters, you can be a terrific novelist. I think that's true. When I write in a character's point of view, I just let go of myself and become the character--feel and think the way they do. Although some friends have trouble doing this due to feeling tainted or spiritually attacked (regarding dark characters), I don't. I find it fascinating to delve into the psyche or mindset of a character, understand their motivations, fears, desperate needs. I always know I am not them, and the reason I am doing this is to create a moving, believable story.

So, those are my thoughts this day as I work on my novel. I'd love to hear what goes through your mind as you write and create memorable characters.

Intended for Harm, is the new novel I'm writing. I've toyed for years with the idea of modernizing the biblical story of Joseph, and this has morphed into an inspired literary attempt at following the epic life drama of Jacob, Joseph's father. At first I wanted to focus on Joseph; his is the more famous, longer tale, and a character most people remember better. But as I prayed about this book and what it really was about, it shifted from being a story about the brothers who harmed Joseph out of jealousy to a story about a man who had been "harmed" by being rejected and essentially abandoned by his father.

God directed me to see that this abandonment issue was at the center of my novel. Here was a young man with a twin brother, Esau, whom the father dearly loved. He couldn't care a hill of beans for Jacob. I read somewhere that many men have trouble accepting God into their lives because a father figure conjures up negative, hurtful associations. I've seen those close to me struggle with surrendering to a God they keep wondering is listening, wondering if he is walking away in the middle of their supplication.

And so this novel began to take shape. And because I need this epic family tale to cover a span of forty years and follow nine POV characters, an idea came to me that I had never seen in a book. In fact, it didn't really hit me that I was structuring this novel in such a fashion until I had written the first few scenes. I knew each chapter would encompass the highlights of a year--the first chapter in 1971; the second is 1972. You get the idea.

Many years ago I was introduced to a Japanese author who had written an intriguing book, called Palm of the Hand Stories. In the manner of a haiku, he had created one short story for each page, a very difficult thing to do well. If you've ever written short stories, you know how difficult they are to pull off successfully. Writers like Ray Carver, Alice Munroe, and Flannery O'Connor make them look simple. But you have to encapsulate so much information carefully in a short story to make it powerful. Think how hard that would be to limit your story to one page, about 300 words. Try it sometime.

So, in my new novel, my scenes last fifteen minutes. Each scene. That's all. Some years have two scenes, others three. But I have to choose every word carefully, set the tone, time, season, catch the reader up to anything important, and just with a few brushstrokes, create a conflict and show the movement forward of plot and character arc. For someone whose written ten novels that move and flow in a comfortable speed of time, this is challenging. But it's also fun, as it does what I always try to do anyway--examine each scene for its bare essence, its moment of realization and character change. Only I'm distilling it down to just fifteen minutes.

Will the whole book hold together once it speeds up to the present and lets the current action unfold--as Joseph's brothers must confront their brother and their guilt over what they've done to him (not spoiling it here--you'll have to read how I've set it in 2010)? I suppose I'll just have to wait till I get to the end and see if I pulled it off. Regardless, it's a wonderful exercise in imagination and stretches my craft and love for language.

Here's the thing. I hear different opinions on this topic, but I've come up with my own intuitive and convicted understanding of how the gift and anointing of God works, at least as it pertains to writing. Perhaps the basic principles apply to other giftings as well.

An editing client of mine wrote me last week expressing concern over what she should do to try to sell her book. She felt guilty even querying an agent, for that seemed to her as if she was not trusting God to open the door for a book sale. It equated as lack of faith. She was confused, didn't know where to apply faith and how that should look.

I felt confused too when I started writing for God instead of for me. Just how much was my responsibility and how much was God's to get my books sold? If I self-published, was I copping out and exhibiting a lack of faith that God would open a bigger door that might allow my book to reach a wider audience? Or was the opposite true--was my holding out for a "real" publisher just arrogance on my part? (A good question for me, since I'd been trying for 23 years to get picked up by a royalty-paying publishing house.)

We who feel called to write and know we must, have little trouble deciphering the truthfulness of that call. We have to write. We can't NOT write. We also feel God leading us to write about certain things, in specific genres, or to a particular audience. Those nudges are often fairly clear. As I become more in tune with God's leading and rely on him more, those signals come across loud and clear. If you get to the point where you are looking to God to help you with every stage of the writing process, praying for his leading and inspiration, you will find he does show you just what you should be writing about.

But it gets a little fuzzy around the edges when we start trying to figure out the nuts and bolts of our efforts to sell and market our work. So many of my friends and clients tell me they only query one agent. Why? Because they feel guilty about querying more. Why? Because they feel maybe they are showing a lack of faith or are afraid they won't discern God's will. Here's what God showed me.

In Ecclesiastes, Solomon tells us to sow our seed day and night. For how can we know which one will sprout and grow, which one might produce fruit? The verse says "Don't let your hand rest." This does not conjure up a picture of a farmer heading out into his field and dropping one lone seed on the ground and then going inside to watch TV, trusting God will do a miraculous work and produce a hundredfold crop overnight, something like Jack's magic beans that grew into a beanstalk. No, the picture I get here is tireless, persistent, consistent effort, day in, day out, night and day (OK we're not talking workaholic here, but in planting season, you have a window of time in which to get all your seed planted and so you have to press hard until you've done all you can).


So, God showed me this Scripture early on when I wondered just what kind of effort I was to expend in trying to pitch, sell, and market my books. Instead of querying just one agent, I queried every single one I thought might like my books. I widened my range and threw my seeds wide, not knowing which ones God would make grow. I ended up unexpectedly with two terrific commercial agents (when no one in the Christian market would even read any of my work). I wouldn't have gotten these agents had I kept a narrow aim. I started attending writers' conferences, reading books and surfing the Web to find out what I could about publishers and editors who might like the kind of books I wrote.

God partners with us, and this is just one way. We put out the effort, he makes the seeds grow. He does expect us to do some of the work, not just write. How can he bless our efforts if we make no effort? We are not supposed to bury the talent in the ground but put it somewhere it will multiply and double. Granted, some of the seeds won't grow. But, as Solomon said, we don't know which ones will, s

I've been pondering lately about what makes a fantastic story, and also thinking a lot about the things Donald Maass discusses in his book The Fire in the Fiction. Because I want very much to reach my readers' hearts with powerful stories that will make them rethink their lives and values, I spend a lot of time considering the themes of the books I write, especially while in the planning stage.

I'm working on a new book entitled Intended for Harm, a modern-day interpretation of the story of Jacob and Joseph. I've always related to Joseph (read my blog entry on playing dominoes in jail with Joseph), since he too suffered a horrible family betrayal and also was so mistreated by so many people when all he wanted was to do good and please God.

So as I began plotting my new novel and all the pieces started falling into place, I kept asking myself: "Just what is the heart of this story?" "What am I really wanting the reader to think about and take away with them when they finish reading this book?" As I prayed about this, I kept getting tugged away from Joseph--who I thought all along this book would center on. God kept bringing me back to Jacob. "What about him?" I kept asking.

As with all my novels, I like to take as much time as needed to let ideas and themes grow organically in my mind and heart. I do not push myself to hurry and get a plot figured out or characters summed up easily. I mull over my ideas and characters sometimes for months until there is clarity of purpose. It feels as if I get given all the ingredients for a great soup, but I just don't have any idea of what I'm really making or what aftertaste will linger until I actually let the pot simmer for a long time and then taste it.

I finally got to the "aha" moment in developing this book when I realized it was about Jacob I was meant to explore. Here was a young man despised by his father. His father preferred his twin brother, and he made no attempt to hide it. Jacob hung out with his mother, and was a more sensitive son. But I saw in my Jacob a man who runs away from his past steeped in confusion and lacking peace. For, men who have abusive or absent fathers consistently struggle with believing in a God who could truly love and accept them for who they are.

This became a huge revelation to me as I discussed my book idea with others. God connected me with people who had the same story of the husband or father or brother. I began to see this almost-epidemic situation of men who could not and did not believe God loved them because of being unable to relate to a loving father figure (and often these men have mothers who are overbearing and judgmental).

My Jacob, then, wrestles with God--not in the way the biblical Jacob did, but in the way that is too prevalent today--wrestling with the concept and acceptance of a God who loves them. Especially when things go wrong in life, when dreams fail and tragedy strikes, this ugly lie of the enemy powerfully sinks deep into the heart of men who fear judgment and who feel they can never measure up. Despite knowing what the Bible says, despite realizing their feelings are completely unscriptural. Those things don't matter. What is experienced in the heart forms the truth of their perception. I know now it is time to dig in and write the book. I know exactly what story God wants me to tell.

I had this image yesterday appear in my mind--of the earth's fiery molten core. How the outer landscape of the surface of our planet has been molded and shaped by the activity of the core's heat. Our stories on the outside, on the surface of our plots, show a landscape of life. there are valleys and mountains, deserts and prolific forests. Yet, what creates all the diverse terrain is the hot core, a place that burns so hot it would melt everything in proximity.

That is how I see a powerful book, one that has fire in the fiction. The deep core of our stories must burn with heat, with passion to tell something important. That is--if it'

I've been discussing the elusive concept of microtension--making every word enticing, every phrase evocative. Microtension makes your novel stand out among a crowd of well-written but mostly prosaic construction. How many times have you read a book that is structured well, has pretty interesting characters, a compelling plot--yet reads flat and same-old same-old? It happens to me weekly. In fact, nine out of ten novels I read I have a hard time finishing, even if all the right elements are in place--just because the writing is mundane, boring, or predictable.

In the first two blogs on the topic, we looked at the F in FACElift--fresh. One component of beautiful microtension line by line in a book is trying to make each sentence fresh, new, different, giving a glimpse of the world through your character's eyes that's just a bit different. I liked Donald Maass's explanation in his workshop of how you can have a character relate to her setting in a special way. Have her see something differently than anyone else would, even subtle things like the quality of light, or notice an object that seems insignificant but has great symbolism to her.

Today we're looking at the A in FACElift--authentic. I originally thought artistic would be a better choice, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized authenticity is what really clinches the relationship between reader and author. Authenticity is all about being real--having characters that have an honest, revealing look at life and themselves. And it's also a quality of the writing itself, which is not easily explained. Instead of talking at the reader, telling them what is happening, how someone is feeling, great microtension is shown in an authentic presentation of information. It comes across often raw, poignant, bare, void of pretentiousness.

There's a great moment in Lisa Samson's book Quaker Summer, where her protagonist, a rich, sheltered Christian woman, has volunteered to help paint an urban kitchen, her first attempt at volunteering to help those less fortunate. She's wearing expensive clothes and so the director of the facility shows her a box of clean, used clothes in which she can find something to wear to paint in. The thoughts that go through this woman's head are simple, but so raw and honest, they have stuck with me for over a year after reading the book. She fingers the clothes, knowing they are clean, yet she senses their contamination. They've been worn by dirty people. Poor people. Black people. At this realization, her character is struck by her own bigotry and hypocrisy. It's a tremendously powerful moment and all written in very short simple sentences. Yet, the moment is empowered with microtension through this authenticity.

I just finished reading a terrific best seller: The Art of Racing in the Rain. What makes this book so rightly deserving of acclaim is the great authenticity of the character's voice and the author's writing style. Enzo is one of the most real human voices I've read--honest, humble, spontaneous. And this is a strange thing to be saying because Enzo is a dog. Yes, a dog tells this story about his master, Denny, whose life completely goes to ruin around him and yet conquers through adversity--all with 0 Comments on Microtension adds a FACElift to your writing - Part 3 as of 1/1/1900