Working It: Small Retreats & Big Conferences

 This Week's Topic: Writing Retreats -- Do They Work for Me?

I should start by clarifying that a writers' retreat--to me--is a small gathering, versus a conference, which has more attendees and a set program. Writing retreats are wonderful for the sake of camaraderie, catching up on industry scuttlebutt, analyzing emerging technologies, and refilling the creative well. The social aspects and the change of scenery are undoubtedly refreshing. The casual, low-stress, mutually-supportive atmosphere can be lovely, even for a hermit an introvert like me, whether I'm meeting new people or renewing acquaintances. Because it's an intimate gathering, there's less pressure to be "on," and the interactions seem more genuine. The retreats I prefer have one or two events/sessions planned per day while the rest of the time (outside of meals) is up to the attendees. We have the flexibility to work through plots or big-sky concepts in pairs or groups, or to be alone and write. 

Writing conferences require more energy from me, more public-persona performance, and more all-around investment. The educational opportunities are greater at a con than at a retreat--from collegiate-style coursework to peer-led workshops to official industry presentations. Conferences are also good for buckshot networking (the kind where you exchange business cards with a lot of people and then build select relationships later). Conferences do offer the chance to meet more peers in your niche, yet breaking through the cliques can be a challenge.

Now, I will admit there were (are?) a few thematic "academies" with a fixed program that seemed fun and useful, where I could learn a specific thing for say, a week or long weekend. The number of participants was kept small so they're akin to a retreat, but there's focused coursework. The Police Academy for Writers was one such thing (I don't know if it's still around ). Writing with Historical Accuracy for the XXXX Period, where you were hands-on with the clothes of the period, you ate the meals of the time, you learned the proper address for the social structure, you experienced the commoner side and the aristocratic side, etc. Getting Medieval: Armor to Sword Fights, where you got schooled in what's real and what's make-believe. I think a lot of the niche programs folded with the advent of COVID (alas), but for a time, there were some really neat ones out there that I kick myself for not attending.

Of Note: Be they retreats or conferences, I don't attend them with the intention of hitting wordcount goals, much less exceeding them. I can do that on my own time. I go because there's something specific I want from the event, and I'm clear with myself about what that is before I plop down money. 

As long as you're clear on what you want from the retreat or the conference, give it a go.  

But, maybe mask up to avoid Con Crud. 😷

In the Company of Like Minded Others

 I am a contradiction. I complain about never having time alone in which to write, yet I do write in company. Most of the time, I rather like having a set meeting time and space. It does wonders to lend legitimacy to my endeavors in my family's eyes. If I want to write for an hour but there's no one else involved, my family are more inclined to interrupt. The instant I say I'm meeting so and so online to write for an hour, they back away, loathe to interrupt what their brains interpret as a 'meeting'. The cats are inconsiderate writing companions. They won't judge my facial expressions but they will judge me for paying attention to a keyboard and not them. Usually by walking on or crashing on said keyboard. Or paralyzing a typing hand because your hand makes the best pillow.

I currently have three groups running at any one time. One meets painfully early in the morning on Google chat. There's a brief good morning said, maybe a check in on how everyone is doing, and then we get to words for an hour. The other two are on Discord. One group is enormous and is for reporting purposes only. There's very little chatter. It's self-driven. Other people are out there writing at the same time you are, but you may never know who or interact with any of them. Though there are live write ins offered on YouTube for the next few weeks. They generally run in 30 minute sprints with a break. The mod is on camera guiding (and writing). That group emphasizes spending time in your story and focuses less on word counts. Sprints are available and certainly you can arrange to hang out with someone and write and chat. Competition is not my strong suit, however, and sprints offer mixed results at best. The other space is very personable and friendly and encouraging. We all make an effort to lift one another and celebrate any success.

The secret of my success in these spaces is that no one can see me. At no time am I on a camera for these meet ups. If there were a need to for me to be writing with my web cam on, I'd be locked out of focus. Yeah, I don't know why. I just know it's the case. I'm told to know myself and in this case being perceived while writing is bad. It's the core of my protests about needing to be alone to really dig deep and write. I prefer to pack up and leave the house to write because resting bitch face is my default. It goes really, really grim, though as I'm working on story conflict. I'm out here murdering people in fiction in some terrible and gruesome ways. I'm not going to be smiling while I do it. I have to be there in that scene as I write it. If you're around while I write it, you're going to see stuff in my face you do not want to see. I'm done and super impatient with my family freaking out and asking if I'm okay while I'm in the middle of a horrific scene or really tense conflict. Worse by far if I happen to be in the middle of a sex scene. Long way of saying that I am not in the least interested in being perceived by someone on the other end of a web connection while I write. I don't want that deep into their writing process and I do not want them all up in mine.

For me, there's inherent discipline in knowing that someone is waiting for me to check in and get started. On the days I'd just skip writing because I wasn't feeling it, having someone waiting for me drags me to the page regardless of my feelz. And that's a habit I want to encourage. Turn to the story no matter how I feel. That feels like a solid foundation.

Writing Buddies For the Win!

Wow, is this week’s topic timely: writing partners and accountability buddies. We’re not talking about collaborators, authors you write with on the same projects, but the writing buddy! 

I’d been struggling to get back into writing mode. You know, the zone where you go every day because you’ve trained your brain to know when writing time happens. 

I’ve had it before. Loved it. Used it. But I lost it. 

What made me use it was a mental block. Oh how I wish it’d been more along the lines of block party. But I had a mental block that I needed to deal with. So, I did. 

Healthy Mind = Healthy Body

I focused on my health along with working on my mind. Meditation and yoga are things that work incredibly well with me. And when I fall off, travel usually bungles up my routine, I definitely notice both in my mental acuity and physical aches and pains. 

Once I was feeling good and confident in my writing again…I’d lost my writing mode. Until a month ago when a writer friend reached out and asked if I would be interested in doing writing sprints together. I’ve heard of other people doing this, Jeffe mentioned it yesterday, but I’d never written with anyone before and wasn’t sure how it would work.

Writing Sprints: we meet on Facebook video, mute ourselves, and write for 15 minute increments. We check in, stretch if needed, and go right back to writing. We’ll do this for a few hours, or until Ullr the husky pup decides it’s walk-time and then we take a lunch break. We do 15 minutes because it’s a short enough time that our brain’s can easily maintain focus. We have done half hour sprints, which also work well. 

This works well for both of us because we had a tendency to edit as we wrote our first drafts. Let me tell you, this does not work! I’d been creeping along in my manuscript. A hundred words here. A couple hundred there. With way too many days in-between. I keep a word-count spreadsheet and the day I started doing writing sprints with my friend my daily count skyrocketed. Now I’m able to average 1500 words in 4 hours. 

Now, writing is like lifting weights. You can’t compare yourself to others. You do the best that you can do and work on improving your skills and abilities. You may look at my average word count and laugh or it may make your jaw drop. Either way, I share it because I used to average 100 words in 2 hours. Writing sprints for the win!

Having a writing buddy has clearly made all the difference for me. And for me, the goal of the writing sprint is to write. No looking back, no editing. Just getting the words down, first draft style. Because you know what they say—you can’t edit a blank page. And I think it’s partly accountability, and partly having someone there that understands what I’m going through and working towards. 

Hopefully you have someone in your life that supports your writing goals. But it’s highly likely that they aren’t a writer and therefore don’t understand it. Only another writer knows how mentally draining it is to write for hours. Only another writer can share the misery of rejections and/or bad reviews. Only another writer knows how sweet it is to receive a yes or a yellow banner or a 5 star review. Writing is a lonely occupation, but we don’t have to be alone to do it. 

Side note to writing-sprints first drafts - If I hit a spot that needs research, or a name I don’t have yet, or anything that I’ll need to come back to I enter [] and keep typing. You can use whatever code word or character you want, it’s a placeholder you can search for and fill in the blanks later. 

So, have you ever been part of a writing group? Do you have a writing buddy? If you haven’t ever given it a try, I urge you to. It might just be the key to unlocking huge word potential.

You're Not Alone: Writing with Others

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is: writing partners and accountabilibuddies. Those people we don't write with, as in we're not collaborating, but the people we write alongside. Simultaneously or not. In tandem. In company.

See, the thing is, writing is by nature a solitary activity. Unless you're collaborating with someone, writing comes down to the writer and the words. For many writers, however - it's certainly true for me - that silence and uninterrupted time to concentrate on story flow is key to getting the stories written. It can be isolating, even lonely.

But, it doesn't have to be! There are lots of ways to foster a sense of camaraderie without violating the fortress of solitude we need to be focused. I often co-work with Darynda Jones, for example. We "meet" on Zoom, minimize the screen and mute for one-hour sprints. Then we break, chat, compare progress and angst, then go again. It's a great way to work together, while being separately in our writing studios, 200 miles apart.

I'm also super gratified to see writers gathering in the #laying-bricks channel of my mentoring and coaching Discord, Jeffe's Closet. People asked for a place to post that they're settling in to write, to enjoy the community and positive accountability of other people doing the same. The "laying bricks" aspect refers to one of my favorite analogies for writing novels: that it's a process of laying bricks, day after day, patiently progressing. I love popping in and seeing everyone getting their words on for the day. 

We're not alone.

 

Accountability Buddies and Feral Cats

 This Week's Topic: Writing Partners (not collaborators) and Accountability Buddies 

I'm having flashbacks to my Girl Scout days and the Buddy System. Good times. Lots of mischief. Usually got my buddy in trouble. That's probably when my deeply ingrained rebellion against having someone else be accountable for my actions (or lack thereof) formed. Whether it was quitting smoking, exercising, making word count, or any other personal motivation initiative, I haven't found the co-accountability approach to be helpful. It's a me thing. Totally. I get all itchy and hissy at the notion of someone behaving like my parent. I love my parents. I love my friends. I don't want to ruin relationships because of my angry feral-cat-like resistance to authority. 

That's not to say I can't do teamwork. That's an entirely different beast. However, asking a peer or loved one to co-own the responsibility for me hitting my goals? Nah. I don't respond well to that motivational method. 

Now, the money gods paying me to hit my milestones...that'd do it. 💰🤑💰

#StarvingArtist
#GreedIsGoodMotivation

Huge Disclaimer: I understand why and how other people find the co-accountability method helpful. If you're someone for whom the agreement works, good on you. Glad you have something that pushes you in a way you find comfortable. Please don't allow my orneriness to make you feel a single tremor of disquiet. You do you. Seriously. 

Starting Off Right

 You've had excellent advice from those who've written about starting stories so far. I second everything they've said. I'm coming at beginnings from a slightly different angle because for me, a beginning need do only one thing: Make me care.

I want to care. It's why I pick up a book with hope in my heart. I want to care about the story. I want to care about the characters. Making me care is a a three step process folded into the beginning of your story.

First tell me the goals. What does the character want? Even if they're wrong about what they think they want in the beginning of the book, what is that? The sooner I know what that is, the sooner I can identify with that character. I don't need to like the character. The character doesn't even have to be human. I just need to appreciate what they want. Usually there's some truth or universality to whatever this character wants or needs and that's enough to hook me in if you're communicating it via that character's unique voice.

Second, tell me the stakes. I need to know very quickly what's at stake in a story both internally for the character and externally for the character and the world of the story. What does this character stand to lose? This sounds like the answer should be 'well, they either get their goal or they don't' and I assure you that is NOT the answer. The answer is deeper than that. It's connected to a core wound in the character - whatever this character lacks inside themselves that makes them want what they want. It's connected to this character's faulty belief systems. The hard part is that at the beginning of the story, characters don't know they have wounds of any kind, much less faulty belief systems. Still, in the beginning of a story, I need the faintest whiff of what the character lacks. Maybe she's the sole survivor of a space ship wreck. It's been awhile. No one's coming to save her. S'okay, though. She's carved out a means of survival. Lonely? Sure. Sure. But, you know. She wasn't the the type to be belle of anyone's ball so it didn't much matter. This was peaceful. Lots of time for figuring out how to make paint from local resources and painting anything that stands still long enough - oh, hey. Is that a shooting star? Or -- holy shit. A ship. What's at stake for this character? Loneliness. Isolation. Companionship. Belonging. Possibly, if it's a romance, what's at stake is being proven wrong about not being the type to be the belle of anyone's ball.

Finally, tie is all up in a bow and tell me why. Why do the goals and the stakes matter? This is where promises are made. I won't say kept, because promises made at the beginning of a book are rarely kept through to the end of the book - at least, not those about plot or character or goals or even stakes. Word to the wise, though. You might want to keep your genre promises. The why gives me a hint about how the goals and the stakes are going to start generating conflict. Painter girl from above has lots of potential stakes. It's possible she had a goal before the shipwreck - get an important secret somewhere to stop a war. Without a ship and without rescue, that goal is null and void. She had to switch to a single goal: survival. Once that was secured, she could expand to becoming the greatest painter in the world which, notably, only she inhabits. Another ship coming in long after she'd given up ever getting off the rock, opens the door for you, the author, to tell me just how screwed our poor, cast away heroine is. Either that ship is crashing, too, and she's just going to bury more bodies but maybe she can repair the ship, or they land, leap out and shout, "Millions have died! You had one job! Where's the secret thing??" or it's some renegade band running from the law, trying to repair their ship, and they are not happy to see her, nor do they have any intention of getting her off world, or . . . I realize this may feel like the end of the beginning of a story. It isn't. It's the end of the inciting incident.

Which leads me to bonus points. Bonus points for starting on action. I may get hate for this. Or, possibly, you've clucked your tongue, rolled your eyes, and said, 'not every genre can do that'. Yes, my friend. They can. Action, when we speak of story, isn't all about guns and car chases and explosions or ships falling from the sky. Action is about collision. Character in stasis (normal life) + inciting incident (whatever sideswipes them) = action.

In this case, character with goal + stakes (why that goal matters to them) + inciting incident (ship falling from sky) = mental, emotional, and physical chaos.

I'm here for it. Bring it. The faster I can scoop that up like ice cream, the happier I am.

Beginnings of stories must do a bunch of things all at once, yes. Your dawning awareness that there are far more than just three things that beginnings must do is - yeah. Beginnings are tough and you may be shocked to find that ton of authors leave until last. No joke. There's a lot of pressure on your beginning and on you. Some of the best advice I ever had was to start a story where I knew what was happening. Sometimes that's the middle. Sometimes the end. Occasionally, it's the beginning. But, when I don't know a beginning, I can figure out what it needs to be based on how the story ends. So. Never be afraid to say 'I don't know' about a beginning. Get to the end. See where everyone ends. Then you can work backward to a starting point for your characters. You'll have their change arc already in place.

Write Those Opening Feels

So far this week we’ve got a top three thing going. KAK gave us her top three mistakes in crafting a compelling opening and Jeffe gave us her (top) three principles for crafting a beginning. 

Do I have three things I can pinpoint about beginnings? 

Honestly, I’m not a craft writer. I didn’t take writing classes, I’m a Medical Scientist. I didn’t study plays or story structure, I studied biology textbooks. But the one thing I did do, and continue to do multiple times a week: read. 

My writing buddy and I took a break from our writing sprints and ended up talking about our first novel. Neither of us had a clue what we were doing, but we’d read so many books and had started to feel like we were running out of things to read when we sat down to try our hand at creating one. We weren’t aware of three act structures or hooks. We just knew what it felt like to pick up a good book and not want to put it down. So that was our goal. Write an opening that will make it difficult to put it down.

Yes, it’s infinitely easier to read a list and attempt to check each point off. Jeffe’s list is a really good one. But don’t stress about jamming so much into your first sentence that you lose the feels. I don’t have a list, but I can tell you about the feels. 

When you pick up a historical fiction you know right off the bat that it’s historical because of the old-timey feels. When you pick up a mystery you’re immediately enveloped in the story’s unsure feels. When you pick up a science fiction your brain goes right into technology feels. 

Think about the last few books that you’ve read. The good ones bring out the feelings associated with what type of book it is. The not so good ones…I know I’ve recently hit some that took a couple pages to give me a sense of story and guess what, I DNF’d those. 

Who else out there writes with the feels instead of a list? Just jump in and go—giddy up! 

Jeffe's 3 Principles for Crafting a Beginning

This week at the SFF Seven, we're talking about beginnings and our principles for crafting them.

But first, I want to tell you all a little story.

A few years back, I was involved in a local writers group where, as a fundraiser for the group, I volunteered - along with several other experienced authors - to read and critique works from others in the group. On one submission, another author (much more successful and famous than I) and I agreed that the book started in the wrong place, and we offered thoughtful feedback on what beginning might work more effectively. There was pushback from that author and the group, a feeling that we had been much too critical, and several people were upset that we had suggested the book had started in the wrong place. One person said to us that the author in question had already been published, implying how dare we suggest they didn't know how to begin the book.

We were both taken aback by this protest because, and I retell this tale because I think this is so important:

FIGURING OUT WHERE AND HOW TO BEGIN NEVER GETS EASIER.

Both my fellow critiquer and I revisit the openings of every book we write many, many times. Getting that opening right is key. It's also not easy.

So, what are my principles for crafting a beginning? I think a beginning should do three things.

1. Establish genre
2. Pose a question
3. Create sympathy for the protagonist

Establish genre

This one might sound like a no-brainer, but I only learned to do this deliberately, after writing many books. The opening lines of the book or story should ground the reader in what kind of story this will be. This grounding is more important than many authors might think. Sometimes we, especially as newer writers, have this impulse to play coy, as if keeping the reader guessing in this way will intrigue them. Trust me: it doesn't. Think of your favorite books and their opening lines; I bet you they all tell you what kind of story you're about to read.

Example: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." Pride & Prejudice, Jane Austen.

Look at how much you learn about the story to come from this one sentence.

Pose a question

THIS is where you intrigue the reader! Some writing teachers refer to this aspect as the "hook," but I think a lot of us have trouble understanding what a hook is supposed to be. Instead I think of this as posing a question. It doesn't have to be THE central question(s) of the entire story, but it should connect in some way. Suggest that there's a secret. Pose a conundrum. Put something in there to make the reader wonder - and to keep reading to find out the answer.

Example: "The snow in the mountains was melting and Bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to understand the gravity of our situation. He'd been dead for ten days before they found him, you know. We hadn't intended to hide the body where it couldn't be found. In fact, we hadn't hidden it at all but simply left it where it fell in the hopes that some luckless passer-by would stumble over it before anyone noticed he was missing." The Secret History, Donna Tartt.

I skipped a bit there for efficiency's sake - but the whole opening prologue is worth studying! - but see how she introduces the core mystery and poses a number of questions? 

Create sympathy for the protagonist

I'm not saying your characters have to be likable, or even that the protagonist has to appear in the first few pages, or that there even has to be a single, identifiable protagonist. What I am saying is, whatever characters do appear at the beginning, the reader needs a reason to want to be in their heads, to take this journey with them. If there's nothing interesting or appealing about the characters in the story's opening, why should the reader keep going?

Example: "It was a dumb thing to do but it wasn't that dumb. There hadn't been any trouble out at the lake in years. And it was so exquisitely far from the rest of my life." Sunshine, Robin McKinley

Feel that instant interest in the character, the clarity of the voice, and how there's a sense of feeling for the person, whoever it may be? 

 

Really, all of these examples serve in all three principles. There's lots that goes into a good beginning, but these three are key. Beginnings are a challenge and take time and effort to get right. And totally worth it.