Now Serving Number . . . Writing What's Next

Most of us who've been writing for awhile operate under this sneaking suspicion that there's some deep, insider secret to publishing. If only we could suss it out, we'd finally, FINALLY, be set. We'd know what to write and when to write it. We'd write best sellers and we'd finally get to sit with the cool kids.

I don't want to alarm anyone but I think I found that secret. One of them anyway. It's this: There are no right answers. Not to any question about writing.

There are answers that might be better than others but even that word 'better' is up for debate. Better for whom? And why? Who gets to decide that? Maybe now you have some insight into how and why I overthink everything ever. It's a gift and a real pain in the ass. It turns the whole question of what to write next into a whirlwind of second guessing and analysis paralysis. There's very little fun involved. Given all of that, I had to come up with a system. Two systems actually.

1. Orders of precedence - write first anything constrained by contract or owed to another entity you do not wish to disappoint. If no contract, write first anything that is already underway and write it to completion. If nothing is currently in the works or contracted, write whatever will feed the fire of whichever audience burns brightest. If there's no obvious audience salivating for a book from you, write what you please.

2. Bright, shiny new ideas that popcorn up while I'm in the middle of a WIP must take a number and stand in line.

In practice, this means I have a way to direct myself toward completing a project. I have a few checks to weigh story ideas against. Most of the time, there's a clear answer to what I should write. The second system - the one about new ideas is a defense mechanism. There's nothing like hitting the sagging middle of a WIP to generate bright, shiny, compelling, BETTER story ideas. The big secret about that, though, is that those stories, too, have saggy, boring middles to be muddled through. Ask my pile of half finished projects how I know this. I had to come up with a redirect that worked for me. When a new idea comes courting, I stop what I'm doing and jot down notes about the idea - bare bones. I want just enough to scratch the itch of capturing this flash of seeming brilliance </sarcasm> so I can follow the thought later when I come back to the idea to flesh it out. If I can. By dignifying the idea with a page of summary and a named file folder in Dropbox, my brain lets me get back to what I had been writing without the tugs and pulls of needing to chase the new thing.

However. I'm finding I need a new system to handle what I should write next and that's because there comes a time in most every life where writing fails. Or we fail. Or imagination fails. Or physical or mental illness claims all the space and the spoons we had to write. Sometimes the 'should' part of 'what should I write next' is the worst and most self-sabotaging question we can pose to ourselves. Some days you can't answer that 'should' question. Then it might help to default to asking 'what can I write?'

Just because we sit or stand at computers all day and make stuff up doesn't mean we aren't working our hearts out. We're spinning some of these stories out of the essence of ourselves and yes, it's likely that we get energy back from what we do, or else why do it? But the rest of our lives might not be quite so generous about returning dividends on spent energy and we overspend ourselves. Writing can be a refuge, it's just a good practice to treat a refuge gently, with respect. It can be freeing to throw off expectation for a little while and plunge into a story that doesn't have a logical place in your catalogue and nothing to recommend it other than it might be fun to try to write.

Resisting the New Shiny: How to Decide What to Write Next

 I've just returned from Nebula Conference and this moment was a highlight: the photograph of SFWA past-presidents in attendance. From left is Gay Haldeman, SFWA Ombudsman; Joe Haldeman, SFWA Grandmaster and past-president; Michael Capobianco, past-president; Karen Silverberg, novelist; Robert Silverberg, SFWA Grandmaster and past-president; and lil' ol' me. Quite a heady experience!

This week at the SFF Seven, we're talking about the Picking and Choosing—how do you decide which idea to write?

This is the eternal question, with many factors affecting the answer.

Some factors are practical, especially if you make your living as a writer, as I do. To keep that income flowing, I have to think about the next book in the series - both for the sales and to keep my readers happy - and I have to look at what's selling best for me. Likewise, in working with my agent - the fabulous Sarah Younger at Nancy Yost Literary Agency - I coordinate with her on what she thinks she can sell for me, along with her schedule, balancing me with her other clients on reading, editing, etc.

Then there's the creative side...

As we develop as writers, one of the primary skills and disciplines we must learn is how to *finish* a work. There are a lot of would-be authors out there with a few to dozens of unfinished manuscripts. It's a thing and you HAVE to learn to overcome it. A big piece of learning to finish a work is setting aside the New Shinies - the ideas that turn up, alluring as fae lights in the darkness, luring the unwary writer into a merry chase that leads nowhere. By the time the writer returns from the wild pursuit of flickering delight, their work in progress has aged and they have nothing to show for their efforts.

Then again...

Sometimes an idea descends and demands to be written. It's only happened to me a few times, but it's happened recently and - though I have lot practice, skill, and discipline at resisting the siren song of the New Shiny - I finally capitulated to writing it. We'll see what happens.

Ideas! Ideas! Which Becomes the Next WiP?

 This Week's Topic: Picking and Choosing -- How Do I Decide Which Idea to Write?

I'm feeling a little feisty this morning (no reason for it, just feelin' it), so the smart-ass answer is "the next idea is the next book in the series."

But what if I've finished the series and am pondering what trilogy to begin next? Oooh. Ah. I, uh, um, hmmm... Usually, I pick the story that I can clearly envision from start to finish. I know the main characters; we've had long, intimate discussions in my dreams. The major and minor plot points have arranged themselves in linear escalations of failure and success. The nature of magic and its rules are suitably different from my other works. The only things missing from The Next WiP are the details. 

Hahahaha. {slaps knee} Bought that did you? 

Yeah. I wish. That kind of clarity only happens when I'm in the throes of working on another book. Ya know, at the most inconvenient time. The time when I can't afford to deviate from the current WiP lest I lose the vision and multiple threads I'm weaving to the final climactic moment. When that future book intrudes on a WiP, I jot down as little as I can to assuage my imagination's OOOH SHINY moment, then get back to the project underway. Whiiiiich means that by the time I'm ready to take on a new series, the urge that once accompanied the intrusive idea has faded. 

Unless it hasn't. 

Maybe it's merely mellowed, ripened, and matured. Maybe now, that simmering idea has developed more intriguing aspects, a better magic system, clearer challenges, and more unique characters. Maybe that once intrusive idea has spawned two more robust major plots that then comprise a complete trilogy. Maybe now, I can see the story not as one novel, but as three. Maybe now it really is ready to become the Work In Progress.

Yaaassss. Come to me my precious. Let us jot down the skeletal plots for all three books in the trilogy, then begin the beguine.

I've notebooks filled with OOOH SHINY brain dumps. Before I choose the next series, I flip through my scribbles until one of them jumps up, calling Mr. Kotter! Mr. Kotter! (if you don't know that reference, get off my lawn!) No, I don't write to trend. I'm far too slow a writer to catch a wave. For me, the next WiP is the one that is fleshed out in my head, the one that has clear plots whose salient points can be bulleted in a short outline, the one that is actually three so I can properly seed and foreshadow as the series arc builds, the one that still makes me curious about the minor twists and the enticing details, the one that still makes me eager to sit down and put the words on the page.

Being Told What to Write Next

Nothing annoys me more than being deep in the guts of a story and having a shiny new idea pop up. It never fails. Never. Used to be, I'd succumb to the siren song of the bejeweled new thing. As a result, nothing ever got finished. My unfinished projects file isn't just a graveyard. It's an entire damned ecosystem.

That changed several years ago when I made a vow to finish a thing. To handle the allure of ideas popping in to seduce me away from soldiering on to The End, I instituted a policy: It takes a number, and it stands in line. This meant scribbling down the gist of an idea - just enough to be able to recapture the feel of the story, then filing it. I'd go back to hacking my way through my WIP.

Now, whether its luck of the draw, a lack of marketing acumen, or the alignment of the sun, moon, and stars, I have two abandoned series of two books each that had been contracted by a traditional publishing house that wanted nothing to do with any further books in either series. Well okay. My obligation to produce the rest of those books went up in smoke unless my contracts allow me to self-publish the follow up books in each or either series (combing the fine print on that point, with someone who speaks legalese.) Until that legal determination is made, I can't be sitting on my hands. I want to write.

No problem, though, right? I had an idea file to mine. I read through everything in that file. I weeded through my notes and incomprehensible (that sounded like a solid story idea? WTH?) tidbits of narrative with no future. I picked the one that I knew needed to be written. Big project with possible longevity. Utterly outside my skillset. Which clearly meant it was exactly what I ought to pursue. Planning, plotting, and research undertaken. Completed. Undertaken again. Completed again. Opening scene written.

And then, I'm embarrassed to say, lightning struck. I was totally sideswiped by a character who insisted his story would be told and it would be told NOW.

That's how Damned If He Does happened. I had no intention of writing paranormal romance. None. But when a hot dude walks into your head, takes up residence and refuses to leave, you either need hardcore medication or you need to write as fast as possible and get rid of him that way.

So I guess the answer to the 'how do I decide' question is this: Sometimes I choose and sometimes I am chosen. The last book picked me. No clue why. But it did. When I have the luxury of getting to choose, I pick a story out of my league. One that intrigues me and that can occupy my mind for days. Some day, when I am again under contract, I will giggle at the notion of getting to pick what I write next. But for now, I'm in a privileged position to write what sounds like fun at any given moment.

Rest assured. I've gone back to the big, scary, historical fantasy project. It's on track for a POS draft by 10/31. And yes. I do know what comes after that. NANOing book 3 of the SFR series. Cause that heroine has taken up residence in my brain and she's tapping her foot while waving her number beneath my nose. Apparently, it's her turn.

Works in Progress: How to Determine What Now and What Next

Deciding what to work on now and next comes down to backing into dates of a marketing plan.

Want me to try that again in plain English?

I currently subscribe to the theory that the ideal release schedule for a self-published series is one book per quarter/four books a year. (Yes, there are lots of other theories out there, so YMMV.) I have four series I want to publish. Basic math says that equals sixteen books released in a year. Basic sanity says that's never going to happen. Creatively, I cannot focus on only one series because of burn out. (It's like having pizza every day; awesome at first but then you can't stand the sight, smell, or mention of it.) So, more than one series, but less than four. Three series is a book released every month. Again, not remotely realistic for me. So, knowing my personal limitations, I'm going with two series.

Which two? The one I've already launched and the one with the hungriest audience. Both are sub-genres of Fantasy. I don't want to confuse or lose any audience I'm fortunate enough to build by jumping into an unrelated genre. I don't (yet?) have that kind of dedicated following.

Eight books drafted, edited, and produced in a year is...frankly still beyond my abilities. How do I address that? Well, I've already screwed up the release timing of my High Fantasy series, so I'm going to accept that four 150k books a year isn't going to happen. That series is not going to fit the ideal marketing schedule. Not now. Not ever. Fortunately, High Fantasy audiences tend to be more forgiving of long gaps between releases. I'll shoot for one release every nine months.

My second series is Urban Fantasy with half(ish) the word count of the High Fantasy, yet a much higher reader demand for more frequent releases. So, four books per year has to happen for this series to succeed in a glutted market.

Now I'm looking at five books a year. Possibly still unrealistic for someone who's only managed to launch one book in the last eighteen months. How do I give myself a fighting chance?  I'm taking advantage of my foible and I'm stock-piling. I'm writing four books in the Urban Fantasy series before I launch it, so I have one year of work in that series ready to go while I write the next year's planned books.

When I wrap up a series another one can slide into its place.  That is The Plan...and we all know the plan is the first casualty.

That, ladies and gents, is how I determine on what I'm working now and next.

Juggling Multiple Projects - How to Decide What to Work on Next

Here's me on the Iron Throne (from Game of Thrones, if you're not in the know). I'm feeling like I look pretty natural there. The only thing missing is that I did not yet have my WWJJD? (What Would Jessica Jones Do?) ribbon.

Still pretty kickass, though.

Our topic this week at the SFF Seven (which totally sounds like a superhero group to me, to continue to riff on the theme), is "What next? How do you decide which projects when?"

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!

What is this "decide"?

Seriously - once upon a time this used to be an issue for me. I remember once making a list of a dozen or so story ideas and using a random number generator to decide which to work on next. Long gone are those days! 

Some of this comes from working with traditional publishing contracts. We end up "deciding" to work on whatever thing has the closest deadline. Due next week? DECISION MADE.

But it's also a natural consequence of writing series. If you have one, two, three, more books out there, then readers are going to be messaging about when the next one is coming out. That's a big decider, too. 

Of course, even with supposedly finished series, I get those messages, so...)

All this said, you know me. I keep a spreadsheet. 

OF COURSE I DO.

This is what mine looks like right now. I cropped so as to make it easier to read. As you can see, the "In My Court" section is the most salient. Right now I have four projects all solidly with me and none in "Someone Else's Court." Which is too bad, really. You'll also note that I classify them as either "Up to Bat" or "On Deck." The irony of me using sports metaphors for these should be lost on no one. On the other hand, the fact that I've mixed tennis with baseball says it all.

Also noteworthy is that THE NOISE OF FUR, which has a later deadline than THE TIDES OF BÁRA and SENSATION, is at bat. It seems counter-intuitive, but this is where my deciding comes in. I *had* planned to do revisions on that story starting 9/12 (which you'd be able to see if you could scroll to the right), but two things happened. First, Grace Draven, who is heading up the anthology, TEETH, LONG AND SHARP, that THE NOISE OF FUR is for, asked me if I could send my story to Ilona Andrews, who's writing the introduction. I didn't want to send it in bad condition. But then, second, I received the content edits from my editor and she thinks the story is in great shape! (Such relief!) So, I knew could both polish this story quickly and give it to Grace for Ilona to read. Thus, I did make a decision within my framework to move that up to being at bat and I'll do that today.

Sharp eyes might note that SENSATION and THE TIDES OF BÁRA share a deadline. This is an artifact of me getting behind schedule, which means the deadlines slid and stacked up against each other. In my head I know that the SENSATION deadline is a somewhat artificial one, and that's the one that will slide if one of them has to.

And if they all slide then... WWJJD?