Critique Ground Rules

In offering: One perfect white rose from the bush in the front garden:

Critique situations have the potential to be fraught with emotional mines. You can make it harder on yourself or you can make it easier.

Hard: just join a group of people you don't know and who don't read the genre you write.
Easier: It helps to at least be familiar with your proposed critique partners. Not everyone has to write the same genre and subgenre, but if you write scifi or erotica, it sure helps to dodge groups full of people allergic to those genres. You'll be happier if you're reading stories you generally like to read and you'll be far more confident of the critiques you'll receive if the people reading you understand the conventions of your genre.

Hard: Mixing beginning writers with very seasoned writers. Not saying this to be a snob. This is about offering critique at a level someone can fully comprehend and *action*. My example: my first few RWA conferences, I had the option to attend Margie Lawson workshops. Went to one and left halfway through because it was so far ahead of where I was as a writer, I couldn't understand what was being presented. Now, after a few books under my belt and a critical eye toward how I put emotion on the page, I can and do grasp the concepts I once couldn't. Further, I can apply the teaching and see the immediate change in my craft. Mixing wildly different skill levels makes life hard for everyone.
Easier: Finding a group of writers who are about at the same level as you are - some are farther along the road and they'll pull you along. A few will be a little way back on the road and you'll help pull them along. It creates synergy.

Once you've found your group, you have to learn how to both accept and offer critique with grace and with humor. These are some hard won ground rules I'm about to lay on you. We won't talk about how I worked them out other than to say it wasn't pretty.

• Leave your defensiveness at the door. Learn to listen with your mouth closed whether you agree or disagree with someone's critique (until it's your turn to talk.)
• Assume the best intentions./Come with the best intentions. If anyone in the group hasn't come to help make books better, you have a problem. Don't be that problem.
  
• Address the writing and only the writing. Zero personal attacks.
• The words 'that's dumb' or 'that's stupid' may never leave your mouth in reference to another person's writing.
• Ask questions. Rather than saying 'you have no point to this scene', ask 'what do you want the point of this scene to be'? This helps if the other writer is getting a little tense in the face of critique. It asks them to think which moves them out of emotion.
  
• Suggest possible fixes for any issues you identify. I'm a stickler for this one - if I can't make a suggestion for something that bothers me, I'll mark the section in text and talk through why I'm bothered and then ask for input from the rest of the group for ideas on how to fix because I care enough about my crit partners that I don't want anyone left hanging.
  
• Offer ideas and suggestions without ego. You're offering up ideas and suggestions, yes, but release any attachment to having someone use them. Your goal is to spark the other person's imagination, not get your way. If you feel really strongly about an idea, use it yourself. Let everyone else decide what's right for their stories.
  
• What happens in critique, stays in critique. Your critique group needs to be a safe space to try new things, make mistakes, learn new technique, and air intellectual property that isn't ready for public consumption. Trust matters for and from all members.
• Share the wealth of knowledge. Recommend classes that helped you. Share notes where it's ethically legit to do so. Remember a rising tide lifts all boats.
  

Critique is hard. There's a lot of emotion involved. Learning to navigate your own and everyone else's is no small task. Give yourself and one another grace. I've learned to couch suggestions in terms of opportunity. Ask anyone who's ever been critiqued by me about my favorite phrase: "I feel like you have an opportunity here to <insert plot point, emotional hit, etc>". It's served me well because it offers a writer choice without intimating that they've done something wrong in their book. I may feel that they *have* done something wrong, but I'm sure not going to say that. Maybe that's the last rule: Care about other people's feelings and remember that WIPs are fragile little birds. Gentle, honest handling strengthens them so that when they are released into the world, they're ready to fly.

The Key to Being a Better CP

 This Week's Topic: Tips for being a better Beta Reader / CP

Hahaha. OMG. {hangs head in shame}. Lo, I raise my face to the heavens and confess my sins. When I started being a CP I hadn't learned the most important thing about constructive critique:

 Tell 'Em What IS Working and Why. 

As a CP, I'm a stronger developmental reviewer (which is an Alpha Reader/CP thing) than I am a line or copy reviewer. My analytical brain overreacts to Where's the Plot Ball, That Shit Makes No Sense, and Failure to Meet Genre Minimum Expectations, so I bleed Add Comments all over the doc. As an author, receiving dev edits is usually the greatest cause of bourbon binging because fixing developmental issues usually means rewriting whole chapters and/or morphing plot threads throughout multiple arcs. You can bet the author is desperate for at least one (if not a dozen or three dozen) callouts for something that is working well. Big or small. 

As a CP or Alpha Reader, the last thing you want is for the author to change something that moves you or crystallizes a character conflict or plot challenge, etc. Alas, sometimes, to fix the larger issue that Really Awesome Scene has to go. Thus, it's important to say why that moment works for you. If you can articulate what moved you, then the author can either salvage or make a point of hitting that same note in a different way or at a different point. It's not uncommon for one of my comments to be "love this section and these (specific) lines that show them laying bare their heart but it kills pacing; could work better if moved to ChX after the blahblah conflict."

Line edits and copy edits carry less sting, but still need to be balanced by positive comments. Is there a line that made you literally LOL? Add that LOL as a comment. A scene move you to tears? Tell 'em! Dating a new book boyfriend now? Yessss. Say so! Those smexy times get you hot and bothered too? There's no shame in tagging it as hot, hot, hot. Catch an Easter Egg? Teehee. Give 'em props. 

It's too easy to think that as reviewers we only provide value by pointing out what's wrong, when, in truth, highlighting the really good stuff is just as important. 

To my early CPs, I apologize--profusely--for being an asshole. 

Who helps make your writing better?

Ooo, I like this week’s topic: how do you define Critique Partners, Alpha Readers, and Beta Readers? I was chatting with an author friend and she mentioned her beta readers. I asked her what they do for her and she answered that they read her chapters as she writes them and offer critique. 

Beta readers, that’s great! Only…that’s what I call critique partners. So, which is it—beta readers or critique partners? Or are they alpha readers?! 

You’d think these terms would have dictionary-esque answers, but YMMV is incredibly applicable here because every writer goes through the critique/editing phase differently which means what one person calls critique partners may be beta readers to another and alpha readers to someone else! It all depends on your own process.

Which means all I can offer are my own definitions:

Critique Partners: fellow writers who read and comment on chapters as they are written or offer critique on subsequent drafts of a novel. I mostly use this term, likely because these are my close author friends whom I swap material with, a perfect partnership.

Alpha Readers: readers/writers who read my first draft, usually as it’s being written. I look to alpha readers to deliver critique on any this works and/or any whoa what happened there moments. I need excitement from alpha readers to help keep me going to reach The End.

Beta Readers: readers/writers who read subsequent drafts. I look to beta readers to deliver critique on plot holes or catch inconsistencies. 

Those are my definitions of the terms, what do you call the amazing-wonderful-people who help make your writing better?

What Kind of Feedback Do You Need: CPs, Alphas, and Betas

Spin the wheel of feedback, whose input do you need? 

[insert The Price Is Right big wheel spinning sound effect here]

These definitions are by no means industry standard (mostly because there isn't a standard), these are my interpretations. YMMV.

• Critique Partner (CP) -- A fellow writer with whom you exchange (not necessarily at the same time) works for developmental feedback. How's the pacing? The characters' development? The plot? The throughline for the plot? etc. Based on a CP's feedback, major structural overhauling may be required. 
• Alpha Reader -- Similar to the Critique Partner, only these readers aren't necessarily writers and there's no exchange of works. They're reading for the Big Picture. Feedback from an Alpha reader can lead to major structural edits.
• Beta Reader -- The book they get is baked. They're reading as consumers to gauge how the book is going to hit the market/fan base. Feedback from these readers may include fine-print corrections that slid past the teams of editors. Changes based on Beta's feedback should be minor and involve no more than changing a word here or a sentence there.

Don't let the terminology define your feedback-relationship. If you need more or less from a reader/partner let them know when you establish the relationship. With each book you send them, be very clear what you need from them and when you need it. We all work better when we know what's expected of us. 

Critique, Alpha Read or Beta - Which Is What?

Here's a little tease for you of the cover of UNDER A WINTER SKY - the midwinter holiday anthology I'm doing with, well, as you can see! Kelley Armstrong, Melissa Marr and L. Penelope. An amazing lineup and a seriously gorgeous cover. Look for the reveal on Tuesday, September 22 on Frolic! Preorder links are here. 

Also, I’m super excited to be doing this online event “at” Love’s Sweet Arrow bookstore with my brilliant author friends Maria Vale, Amanda Bouchet, and Kait Ballenger. Danielle Dresser, Editorial Manager for Fresh Fiction will moderate. Join us on Saturday, September 26, at 3pm ET for fun conversation! You can register here. 

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is: How do you define Critique Partners, Alpha Readers, and Beta Readers?

I think this was my topic suggestion because I was sincerely interested in everyone's definitions. Seriously, I feel like writers use these terms very differently depending on the person. For me, I don't use "Alpha Reader" at all. I don't even know what that is except maybe a response to "Beta Reader." 

Can we divert a moment and discuss that simply adding the next Greek letter in either direction doesn't necessarily make the term meaningful? I mean, Beta Reader makes sense because it's like beta testing. The term "beta testing" comes from software development, where "the end-user (intended real user) validates the product for functionality, usability, reliability, and compatibility." Thus a Beta Reader is an end user - in this case, a reader - who takes the story out for a test drive by reading the completed work. Alpha testing, in its original sense, "is carried out in a much-controlled manner and it is not accessible by the end-users/market. Testing is carried out to simulate real-time behavior to match the usage of the product by the end-users in the market." To my mind, if alpha testing occurs entirely in-house, then Alpha Reading would be by the author. I am my own Alpha Reader, I suppose, which is just writing and revising. An "Alpha Reader" is not one step earlier in the process than a Beta Reader just because alpha is to the left of beta in the Greek alphabet. I won't die on this hill, but I did have to mini-rant about it.

Moving on!

What I think writers mean when they use the term "Alpha Reader" is actually a critique partner or group. Critique is the first pass by outside eyes. It's the thorough examination of the work by someone who isn't the writer. But, people don't seem to like the word "critique." It implies criticism and - let's face it - no writer loves criticism.

I think what's going on here reflects a level of author proficiency, too. It has certainly worked that way for me.

When I started out as a baby writer, lo these couple of decades ago, I took writing classes where we "workshopped" each other's writing. (Workshopping could be considered a deeper dig than critique, where other authors may actually help create and shape the story.) Some writers I met in those classes invited me to join their critique group. (Big milestone for baby writer me!) That first critique group really taught me a lot about writing and absolutely helped to launch my career.

After a few years, the group burned out - as these groups do, for particular reasons, though that's a whole 'nother topic - and I moved into using critique partners. These were writers I swapped work with. They've changed over the years, though some have been working with me for over ten years. (Hi Marcella!) We tend to hit each other up for specific projects/problems/questions these days, rather than regularly exchanging everything we write.

Fast forward to a few years ago and I was invited to join another crit group - this one specifically SFF. It ultimately didn't work for me. A writer friend suggested that the reason was that the group was trying to dig into my writing at a level I  no longer needed - and that I, in fact, found was harmful to my process. 

So guess what we've done? Formed a beta reading group! 

It's a group of writers all well-established in our careers, and we read each other's completed works. (Or completed chunks intended for submission on spec.) It's definitely a different level of analysis with thoughts on clarifications or missed opportunities. So far it's working great!

What's key is to figure out what will most help our process at that time. Not always easy, but like everything - a work in progress!

Who to Trust With Your Work - The Junior High Dance Edition

How do you know who to trust with your writing, especially early drafts and idea bouncing.

Yikes. This is such a process of trial and error. It's like those middle school and junior high dances where everyone's awkwardly hugging the edges of the room afraid to ask anyone to dance for fear of rejection or ridicule. Figuring out who you can trust with your well being as well as your heart is part of growing up as a human being. Figuring out who to trust with your writing is part of growing as a writer. And yes. The process is about as painful.

There's so much to learn.What's acceptable behavior. What isn't. What builds you up. What tears you down. That last is really hard because what's soul-killing to one writer will be nourishing for another. I will say this, though. When you find someone you can trust to give you the unvarnished truth about your work in a kind, constructive way, that person will be worth their weight in gold. It took me three dysfunctional groups before I fell by accident into one that taught me not only how to critique, it taught me how to take critique. The authors who welcomed me into that group had hundreds (not kidding) of books pubbed between them. I had zero, and I was still several years away from selling anything. These ladies ripped my manuscript to shreds. It would have been demoralizing except for the fact that they also painstakingly explained what was wrong and how I could fix it. Fantastic learning experience. Still, I could see where it might have been crushing had it come any earlier in my development.

I'll own up to mistakes made along the way, too. There were groups I joined simply because I could. They weren't a good match. Like trying to figure out dating, there's just no way to get out of it without hurting someone else or being hurt yourself. It's part of learning who your matches are. All you can do is try. And then try again. I'm lucky. Persistence paid off in spades. I have so many great critique and beta reading options - people writing and reading in my genre who know the market I'm writing for. Not a one of them is afraid to pull a punch because I'm tougher now. As my confidence has grown and as my trust in my crit readers has likewise grown, I want the bandages ripped off my story wounds. No candy coating. I know these people have my back and want my story to be the best it can be. So I want to get on with making my story better.

It took years to get here. It took some tears. I wish there was a formula for instantly detecting trustworthiness I could offer you. But I'm afraid this is all one grand experiment. Pretty much like the rest of life.

Do You Need a Critique Group - Or Something ELSE?

Yesterday I cooked brunch for writer friends Jim Sorenson and Sage Walker. (That's me in my Orchid Throne apron that the amazingly talented Minerva Spencer made for me. Isn't it awesome??)

We sat in the grape arbor, listened to the bluebirds feed their nestlings, and talked all things writing. Sage and Jim are in the Santa Fe crit group I used to attend. I stopped going last fall because... It just didn't feel worth my time. In fact, it sometimes felt counter-productive as a few of the guys in the group always took pains to mention that they weren't my readers. Fair enough - but then how is their critique useful to me? I stuck with it for quite a while (two years or so), because I thought it MIGHT be useful to me, to get feedback from different quarters. When I was first asked to join, several of my friends gave me the head tilt and said, "But do you need a critique group?"

I thought maybe I did, but it turns out I mostly wanted to talk about writing with other writers.

I liked that aspect, I really did! And I believe in critique. I've been in other critique groups and I've had many critique partners over the years. I cannot emphasize how much those relationships have helped me to develop my craft. (I touched on this in my blog post the other day Silly Writer! Reviews Aren’t for Craft.) But one key skill in being a career author is learning what critique to listen to and what to discard. It's not always easy to get past the emotional flinch at someone criticizing your work - so you have to learn to look past emotion and rationally evaluate the feedback - but you also have to be aware of when that feedback is actually damaging.

For me, I noticed that I came away from the critique sessions feeling bad about my work. Not from everyone. Some in the group found flaws and problems, but that feedback had me fired up to fix it. A few other people... well, I just felt bruised. The big test was when I, weeks later, pulled out some written notes they'd made, and the negative impact just slammed into me.

Ouch. And this was on a draft of The Orchid Throne, which St. Martin's liked enough to buy for decent money.

I mention these specifics to add helpful details, because I know it can be really difficult to parse the flinch from the injury. I'm not casting blame at all, because sometimes that's just how it goes. Not everyone who gives you critique is the right person to do it. (Sometimes jealousy factors in and people are mean for no more reason than that, but usually they mean well and are simply not a good fit for your thing.)

What I've found at this point in my writing career is that I really like - and sometimes need - to talk through story stuff, but not necessarily the full critique drill. With Sage and Jim yesterday, we talked about this world I'm building in this New Shiny book/series. They're both super smart about SF and we argued some of the finer points of how this world would work. That was awesome! I liked that they got me to defend my choices, and they suggested a great solution to a conundrum. It was super helpful and fun. Sage has also sent me some thoughts on what I've written so far. I also asked Marcella Burnard - our Friday poster on the SFF Seven - to take a gander at my opening chapters. She had no context or previous exposure coming into the story, so she was able to give me useful thoughts on what information she needed.

So, all of this is by way of saying that there's lots of ways to get feedback from other authors on our work - and also to give it. Knowing what will be helpful to another author whose work you're reading is a skill worth building, too. (And, to touch back on the reviews thing, that is NOT something a reviewer needs to know how to do. They need to know how to give useful information about a book to other readers, so they can decided if the book might be for them.)

What's most important is to do what's right for the work.

Do the magic, write the book

I always wanted to write a book. Yet I didn't succeed in doing so until I was almost 40.

Which was totally coincidence and not at all biological. I mean, there's no verifiable link between crackly kneecaps, elongated nose hairs, and understanding of story structure. It's not like I woke up one day, realized my kids were no longer climbing the furniture and watching Dora the Explorer and thought, "Today is the day I will finally write a book, because oh look I finally have scads of time!"

Nope. I'd been writing diligently since childhood, and doing it every day and producing a certain number of words and which-hunting and search-and-destroying the verb "to be" wasn't making me a better storyteller.

Between the ages of 5 and 40, I wrote dozens of [terrible] short stories and possibly hundreds of [even terribler] beginnings of books that never got finished. All that practice was not completely useless. It did yield mad sentence-crafting skills. Eventually I could even produce a fairly decent scene. But when it came to putting together a coherent narrative longer than 10k words, I was worse than incompetent. I was clueless, just a gal consumed by want-to, staring at a wall of thou-shalt-never.

Two things helped me over that wall:

1. I joined my local chapter of Romance Writers of America and attended all their talks and workshops and read the craft books my chapter mates recommended.

2. I found a private ecosystem of critique partners, beta readers, and cheerleaders. 

The Austin RWA built out my resources, but my circle of CPs was the pixie dust. The magic. I have three critique partners, plus a handful of awesome beta readers who are almost CPish in that they know how to offer feedback that is both helpful and not soul-killing. We all write in different subgenres, sometimes in different genres entirely. We are all on a similar level of experience and commitment. We speak this weird story-structure nerd language. We respect each other and lean on each other and support each other. We do not compete. We build up.

At first all I could offer this community was the aforementioned mad sentence-making skills, but the more I learned the more comfortable I got with the process, both mine and theirs.

At this point, we have all completed novel-length books. Some of us have sold those books.

So if you were to come to me and say -- with some sincerity, mind, not just making idle chitchat -- that you've "always wanted to write a book," I would lead you to the head of this path:

1. Find your tribe.
2. Find your crit partners.
3. Read a shitload of craft books.
4. Forget the details of those craft books, but remember the essence of structure.
5. Find your process.
6. Do the magic.

And then I'd applaud like hell when you climbed the wall.

Writing a book is not a single-player RPG

When folks talk about “leveling up” writing craft, they’re slapping possibly the best metaphor in the universe on this process. Because writing a book is almost exactly like game-mastering a role-playing game. In which you are also playing all player characters. Alone. Deep into the night. And recording the whole thing in case someone, anyone, ever wants to hear about your fun made-up adventure that you had with yourself.

First you read the module (get the story idea and some rough sketch of the conflict and setting). Then you roll up heroes (main and secondary characters, with motivations and emotional problems and gear). Then you sit down at your little table for many hours and eat bad food and melt into this strange, magical, wonderful world you’ve devised.

And after you’ve defeated the big boss (written the first draft), it’s time to assign experience points and loot, and … level up.

Yes, leveling up is revision.

When I’m leveling up (revising) a book, the most helpful source books (tools) are going to be

• Critique partners—Get you some! At least one. I have three. These are professional writers who are at or above my skill level (not necessarily writing in my genre; the skill-level match is the key here) and do not hesitate to point out crap that isn’t working. They aren’t “oh I love everything you write” people. They are “eeew”-in-the-margin and “nope, he’d never say this” people. 
• A developmental editor—My publisher hooks me up with editors who read my icky drafts and offer suggestions for making the books better, but if you’re self-publishing, you need to go out and find a good dev editor on your own. Don’t skip this part. I don’t know a writer who turns out perfectly balanced and paced first drafts about adequately motivated characters. And I know some damn impressive writers.
• A read-along performance—I don’t mean you need to get up in front of an audience and read your book aloud. I do mean that you need to read your book aloud, though. Yes, the entire thing. Even those scenes that make you blush. (Have a glass of wine, if you need it.) Read the characters in their own voices and make sure the POVs are sufficiently distinct, the dialogue makes sense, and the chapter-ending hooks make you want to keep reading. If you stumble over a word or sentence when you’re reading it aloud, very likely there’s a problem in that spot. Flag it and move on, and later, you can come back and think, Ha! I spelled teh wrong and spellcheck totally let me down! Because this is not the kind of thing your eyes notice when you’re reading silently. But your mouth realizes that teh is completely unpronounceable and helps you fix all these embarrassing things.
• Beta readers—Contrary to some weird stuff I’ve heard lately, you do not need to pay for beta reading. Find another writer in your genre who you trust, and trade manuscripts. Or find a reader in your genre who is willing to read in exchange for a shout out in the Acknowledgements or chocolate or advance copies of all your books in perpetuity or just to elevate the genre. Note that a beta reader is not a line editor and is not responsible for your commas. You should have already sorted your commas by this point. Also, don’t use your book-buying readers as betas. Readers who buy the book should not also have a duty to tell you that your pacing is off or you’re showing rather than telling all through chapter six (why is it always chapter six?). Readers bought the book. Your job is to make sure that thing they bought is already a quality purchase.
• A line editor—To sort the dangling participles (you have some, I promise) and word repeats and 42-word sentences and language that might trigger or offend a reader in ways you would have never anticipated. A good line edit helps you polish the low-level, sentence-type stuff. It also points out bad habits you didn’t even know you had—oh, hello, overused "just" and made-up verbs! If you publish traditionally, this step might be rolled in with a white-glove treatment on your final revision, or it might be called something else. Regardless of what you call it, though, it’s the pre-copyedit and post-developmental edit. It’s the stage where your sentences learn to shine.
• A copy editor—Even if you are pretty sure you write clean, you still need a copy editor. Everyone needs a copy editor. Copy editors need copy editors. Because none of us are that good all on our own. Also, a good copy editor is not someone who did real well diagramming sentences in sixth-grade language arts. A good copy editor has memorized The Chicago Manual of Style and has training specifically in how to recognize inconsistencies and errors in a book-length manuscript. Get editing samples and references. Important note: you cannot hire a good copy editor for $50 for your 100k-word opus. (Read that sentence again. Cannot.)

So, okay, I lied. 

You aren’t running this adventure alone after all. 

Sure you can bang out the crappy first draft all by yourself at your little table in the dark of night and with Cheeto-stained fingers. But if you want those characters ever to get the Chain Lightning spell or the insta-kill +1 vorpal sword, you’re gonna need to get some other folks in on your game.

KISSing, only with plots instead of mouths

Q: How do you keep your story from getting too complex?

A: Here, meet my critique partners. Aren’t they amazing?

See, as a writer, I’m still learning how to keep things simple, and by simple I mean being able to hold the whole story and all its moving pieces in my mind for that final quartile, so I can wrap up the whole yummy burrito. An overstuffed burrito is a ruined white shirt, and I have…well, let’s say I have a guacamole problem. However, that’s where my amazing crit partners come in.

My CPs are kind of alpha readers who also know SO much more than I do about craft. They margin-note anything that's confusing or well-that-came-outta-nowhere or interesting-but-never-mentioned-again. Those margin flags typically indicate I have a whole back story for that element and love it to bits and really, really want to use it to complicate matters, but it isn't useful to this story/character/moment, and so it needs to go. For instance, plot threads concerning Mari’s mom and Garrett’s super powers and the oblique, giggletastic Terminator fan-service references? Gone. Snipped. Fixed. Streamlined. Thank you, SuperCPs.

In sum, my advice to everyone attempting to KISS (we all know the acronym, yes?): get some alpha reader/crit partners who know their stuff and aren’t hesitant to call you on your over-complicated crud.

(Note: It's tricky but not really hard to build good CP relationships. I met one CP because we were both writing a lot of self-indulgent Tolkien fanfiction a million years ago, one through a romance-writing professional organization that gets together in person monthly, and one because we slept together at a local writing retreat, which isn't nearly as salacious as it sounds. If you gut-flinch at the thought of going face-to-face with other writers in person, Critters might be a nice place to meet SFF-minded folk online. If you're a member of the RWA FF&P chapter, they have a mudpuddle that kind of functions as a CP dating service for folks writing SFR and PNR. Make sure to trade sample chapters before you get hitched for the whole manuscript, and also try to hook up with someone who is just a little bit ahead of you in craft knowledge.)

Oh! And one addendum from the former-litcrit-student in my head: it also probably helps to focus on a tiny, tiny group of POV characters – one, if you can get away with it – and their goals, motivations, and conflicts. If a worldbuilding piece doesn’t affect your protag, ditch it. The only stakes a reader is going to care about are those that directly affect your POV character's internal journey.

Early Stages - Who Should Help You Plot?

In keeping with our story-writing theme - last week we talked about how much space to give to the denouement - our topic at the SFF Seven this week focuses on the Early Stages of Plot Development. Do we work alone, with critique partner, developmental editor, or in a round-table group.

My answer is that this has changed dramatically for me over the course of my writing career - and it can vary by book. Plus, just recently I've done something Totally New, which isn't even on that list.

First off, for anyone who *doesn't* know this about me - though I'm not sure how that's possible since I feel like it's a big neon sign over my author-hatted head - I don't pre-plot. I'm going to make that distinction, pre-plotting vs. plotting. In some genre communities, people are given to calling writers either plotters or pantsers. A "pantser" is someone who is perceived as writing "by the seat of their pants," a description that simply oozes with pre-plotter panic to my mind. The way I write feels nothing like what it seems many imply with it - that there's somehow no plan at all.

Interestingly, there are myriad definitions for that phrase. It turns out that it's early aviation parlance. Aircraft initially had few navigation aids and flying was accomplished by means of the pilot's judgment. It meant "going aloft without instruments, radio or other such luxuries." In our analogy, I suppose the instruments, etc., would be an outline of the story. As far as the idiom is concerned, I found this definition very interesting: "To use one's judgment, initiative, and perceptions as events unfold in order to improvise a course of action without a predetermined plan."

Now, that last *does* feel like how I write. I don't feel like I can plot a book before I write it because I don't know how events will unfold. And I do trust in my writer's instincts and the skills I've honed over time to make those judgments as the story goes. Several of the definitions used the word "intuition," which I think is spot on.

I don't really think my stories through, I intuit them.

I have a critique partner (and good friend) that I talk through stories with a great deal. She's very much a thinker. She plots out the stories ahead of time and is always asking me questions like what is my heroine's goal or her internal wound. I inevitably get irritated by these questions - not that I don't know the answers, but that I can't articulate them. They are feelings to me, not easily definable in a few words. That said, this friend is great at helping me figure out my stories. I can tell her "Oh, my heroine is like this, and her mother is this way, but the hero is this other thing to her - so what would happen if...?" And she has great answers. I don't always use her ideas, but they do help to guide me.

I seem to work best that way, brainstorming what my characters might do, talking it through with one or two other people. I love to do it with other people's stories, too.

Just recently, however, I got to do something new and very fun. Last week I announced that I have signed with a new agency, Nancy Yost Literary Agency, and that I'll be working with Sarah Younger there. I couldn't announce this change immediately, as the contract with my former agency asked for 30-days notice. But, until Sarah could officially act as my agent, we discussed several projects I had in mind as possibles. She picked one as her favorite - and as the most marketable at the moment - and gave me some ideas to think about. What she gave me helped crystallize the project and injected it with life. Which is so much what I was hoping working with her would be like!

This is an aspect of working with an agent that I think some writers, especially those exclusively in self-publishing, perceive as being "told what to write." It doesn't feel like that at all. Instead it's a "wouldn't it be cool IF" scenario. Agents are passionate about books, by definition, and widely read. The right agent can bring fantastic perspective to a proposed project.

But, and this is key, whoever a writer talks to in the early stages of a story has the power to profoundly affect the direction of it. Or even to kill it with careless criticism. Choose those people with utmost care, for a new story is precious and fragile. Don't hand that baby to just anyone.