Like Rocky Balboa said:

Once upon a time, when asked if he would like to invest in condominiums, Rocky Balboa said, "I don't use them. I'm Catholic."


I'm that way with developmental editors. I don't use them.

So for this week, I fear I'm not much use. I have used first readers, I have hired my own editors, but when it comes to developing my stories, it's just me.

I even had an editor I used once who, several times through the course of reading the first draft of my novel SMILE NO MORE, asked me to give her a clue. The challenge was simply that the story was told in three separate sub chapters for each chapter. First person recollections from Cecil Phelps. First person recollections from Rufo the Clown, and third person scenes told to fill in the events as they happened in the modern day. It isn't until a little over halfway through the novel that everything starts to dovetail, but it does, eventually.

Seriously. She'd ask for just a hint, just a vague notion of where the story as going. I kept telling her to keep reading and then, finally she said "Oh! That makes sense now."

That's just sort of the way I work. I know where I'm going. I know how I'm going to get there. Sharing that information tends to mess the whole thing up for me. No one sees it until it's done.


Is my way the right way? Probably not. But it's what I'm comfortable with.

Five Traits of an Ideal Developmental Editor

A good developmental editor is key for taking a book from good to great. Or from meh to great. Or even great wad of suckage to great.

I firmly believe every novelist needs a good developmental editor.

Writers of short fiction benefit from them, too, but novels in particular, with all their unwieldy size and multiple threads really cry out for that help.

What does a developmental editor do?

They are the first stage of professional editing. (Feedback from critique partners and beta readers might come before this.) A developmental editor gives generalized feedback on how the story works - where it could be cut for pacing, where more detail can be added for clarification, where emotion can be amplified, perhaps even reordering of scenes for maximum effect. In short, a developmental editor does what it's impossible in most cases for an author to do: evaluate the work objectively.

But how do you choose a really good developmental editor?

I hear a fair number of authors recommend editors saying "they're really good and they don't change my voice!"

Cringworthy.

Why? Because this is utter nonsense. I don't get this writerly terror of having their voice changed. Let me give you a little clue, folks. I'll even all-cap it so it sticks to your brain better.

NO ONE CAN CHANGE YOUR VOICE BECAUSE IT COMES FROM YOU.

Okay?

Okay!

So, let's talk about the actual topic: Five Traits of an Ideal Developmental Editor

1. They can see both the forest and the trees
   
   An ideal developmental editor has a good feel for the overall scope of a story - or series - and can carefully track key worldbuilding details, to keep the story logic in place.
   
2. They care more about the book being good than your feelings
   
   This is particularly important for self-publishers, because the editor is hired by the writer, instead of by the publishing house. The temptation is to keep the client happy by telling them what they want to hear. This is not good for the book. Find an editor who's willing to tell you what you don't want to hear. Then listen to them.
   
3. They also tell you what works
   
   A good editor is able to give praise as freely and specifically as criticism. Beyond the soul-crushing of editorial critique, well-targeted love can show the flip side, where the craft and the story IS working. It's much easier to fix problems when you can study your own successes, too.
   
4. They're able to offer suggestions for fixes
   
   Not all writers like this, but I love it. A good editor can not only say "this isn't working," but offer ideas for rephrasing, clarification, adding, cutting, etc. A smart, talented and diligent editor cares as much about the book as the writers does and can often see what the writer can't.
   
5. They know the market
   
   The best developmental editors know their genre and what's acceptable within the reader contract. Making a book shine means knowing the potential readership and what they'll expect. Adjusting a story to adhere to genre conventions can mean the difference between delighted readers and an angry mob.

What else? Any traits of an ideal developmental editor that I missed?

Is The Slang Too Old?

I don't have much to say on this topic, since I write science fiction romance set in the far future and I've invented my own slang for those characters. I also write paranormal novels set in ancient Egypt and the slang I use there is VERY old LOL. But it fits the time period. Actually, the problem I have in those novels is the reverse - I have to be careful not to use words and terms that reference inventions and innovations that won't arise for thousands of years. I was rereading one of my old novels last night and found three gems I'd missed. No steel in 1550 BCE.  'Faux' - even Old French didn't exist that long ago. I don't remember the third one at the moment. I usually change steel or iron to bronze, which doesn't always flow smoothly to the modern eye, but I missed this one reference.

Here's an encounter from Dancer of the Nile, not that it's full of slang but I don't know what else to give you today! Nima the dancer is prepared to gamble with some very high stakes...

“Are you a gambling man?” She pointed at the object taking up most of the table beside him. “Do I see a senet board?”

                He rubbed his hand across the game board inlaid atop the gleaming container. “Indeed it is. You play?”

                As if she had all the time in the world, Nima walked to the game box, deliberately making her stride slow and sensuous, like the opening steps of a dance. Bending to give him a good view of her shapely bottom outlined by the dress pulled tight as she leaned over, Nima opened the bottom drawer of the case and plucked a shiny black pawn at random from inside. With an elegant gesture, she turned and extended her hand to the caravan master, the pawn sitting on her flat palm. “I challenge you to a game.”

                He stroked his bearded chin, leaned back as he braced one foot on a trunk and made a show of considering. “For what stakes?”

                “If I win, you give us shelter for the night, and we go our separate ways in the morning.” She set the pawn on the board in the starting square. “If you win, we’re yours to do with as you please.”

                “Nima—” Kamin’s protest was instant and angry. In two steps he was at her side, yanking her to face him. “What are you—”

                Wrenching herself loose, she ignored him, facing Ptahnetamun again. “I’ve lived in border towns all my life, so I’ve heard of the honor code governing caravan masters. I want your word you’ll abide by the outcome of the game.” She held up one hand before he could speak. “No, I want your blood oath on it.”

                Jaw dropping, Ptahnetamun stared at her while his men muttered and even the serving girl looked impressed by Nima’s boldness.

                “Well? Do you agree to my terms or don’t you?” Nima drew herself to her full height and tried to feel impressive, despite her dusty clothes and tired body. He can’t back down from this challenge in front of his crew. I hope. Since he hesitated, she taunted him, paraphrasing a saying she’d often heard in the taverns where she danced. “Be aware I’ll pass you by as one who sails with the breeze, blessed by the Sun. I’ll be entering the House of Repeating Life while you, my opponent, will be stopped.”

                Next minute, Ptahnetamun threw back his head, roaring with laughter. “Spoken like a true gambler. I like your spirit, woman.” He pointed at Kamin. “Does your warrior agree to what you propose? The deal must include you both.”

                “Will you give us a moment?” Pulling Kamin aside, Nima turned so the gawking caravan crew couldn’t see their faces. Kamin’s cheeks were red, and his frown was truly impressive.

                Putting both hands on her shoulders, he gave her a little shake. “What in the seven hells are you doing? “

                She laid her hand gently over his mouth, leaning close as she whispered, “Trust me, please, Kamin? If he swears me a blood oath—”

                Shoving her hand away, he rolled his eyes. “And if you win,” he said furiously. “The throwing sticks are bound to be false-weighted somehow. It won’t be a fair game, not some friendly match in the tavern for mugs of beer.”

                “I’m hoping the sticks are false.” She smiled mischievously, letting her smile fade as he continued to glare at her. “Please? I know the stakes are high, but we’re not getting out of here otherwise. You’re one man surrounded by dozens, and he sees profit in selling us. This is the only way we stand a chance of escaping.”

                “You’re asking me to risk the success of my mission for Pharaoh, for Egypt, on how well you can cheat a cheater?” He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing his brow.

                “Blood oath?” Ptahnetamun asked from his position next to the game board.

                Going on tiptoe to look over Kamin’s shoulder, Nima said magnanimously, “Nothing less. I’ll swear as well,” drawing a quickly smothered laugh from the ever-increasing crowd at her back.

                “She’s set the stakes.” The man who’d taken Nima on his horse came forward to offer the caravan master his dagger. “Challenge has been made.”

                “And accepted!” Ptahnetamun slammed his cup on the table so forcefully the base cracked. Rolling back his sleeve, he extended his thick wrist. “I swear by the twin gods of the caravan road to abide by the outcome of this senet game. She and her man go free in the morning if she wins.” He leered at Nima. “But she’ll be on her back in my bed by dawn if I win.” The crowd roared with amusement at this sally. Gesturing at Kamin, he finished his boasting. “Be sure I’ll sell his carcass for a tidy profit.”

The story:

Nima’s beauty and skill as a dancer leads an infatuated enemy to kidnap her after destroying an Egyptian border town. However, she’s not the only hostage in the enemy camp: Kamin, an Egyptian soldier on a secret mission for Pharaoh, has been taken as well. Working together to escape, the two of them embark on a desperate quest across the desert to carry word of the enemy’s invasion plans to Pharaoh’s people.

As they flee for their lives, these two strangers thrown together by misfortune have to trust in each other to survive.  Nima suspects Kamin is more than the simple soldier he seems, but she finds it hard to resist the effect he has on her heart.  Kamin has a duty to his Pharaoh to see his mission completed, but this clever and courageous dancer is claiming more of his loyalty and love by the moment. Kamin starts to worry, if it comes to a choice between saving Egypt or saving Nima’s life…what will he do?

Aided by the Egyptian god Horus and the Snake Goddess Renenutet, beset by the enemy’s black magic, can Nima and Kamin evade the enemy and reach the safety of the Nile in time to foil the planned attack?

Can there ever be a happy future together for the humble dancer and the brave Egyptian soldier who is so much more than he seems?

Amazon  Barnes & Noble   All Romance eBooks  iTunes   Kobo   Google Play

Perils of the Writer: Being all 'hip' and 'with it'

I'm rather fortunate-- in a strange sense of the word-- that I right secondary-world fantasy, and thus I get to use my own phrasing and slang that is world-specific.  There's no need to be current or modern in a way that might date my work faster than I would hope.

I have friends who've written things set in "now", and because of the time it takes to get something sold or publish, the "now" has drifted away from them to a point where their story feels like a relic.  Or-- a real danger when writing near-future SF-- when I read Snow Crash, it was already the same year of the "future" of the book.  

I have been accused of using language that feels too "modern" for a fantasy novel-- though I think that comes from the strange expectation that fantasy needs to use some sort of faux-archaic tone, which I do not agree with.  Now, this might cause my books to get dated sooner than I would hope.  We'll have to see.

But the question at hand is also: can you write in a way that speaks to younger audiences without making your work seem dated-- or worse, like your some out-of-touch fogey trying to hard to "relate" with these kids today?  I think you can if it's authentic.  If it comes off as pandering-- like you're putting on a voice to target the youth market-- then they'll know.  And they won't like it.

Now, I've got plenty of work to do today in the word mines (and up here in the real world), so I'm off to it.  And if you're attending the Writers' League of Texas conference this weekend, look me up.  I'll be the one in the vest.

Are References Ever Too Old for Contemporary Writing?

Q1: Have I ever removed or edited a reference and/or saying because it's "too old" for my audience?

A1: Since I don't write YA, NA, or anything remotely related to children, "too old for my audience" is not a problem I have. "Too Young for Me" is something of which I am aware (you will never find the word "bae" in my work. Nope. I'm too damn old.)

Q2: Have I ever removed or edited a reference and/or saying because it's "too old" for my character(s)?

A2: Not so much for age as for the appropriate level of formality. This is particularly true in writing High Fantasy, less true when writing Contemporary Fantasy rooted in Western culture.

Q3: Have I ever removed or edited a Brand Name because it's "too old" for the story?

A3: In my Urban Fantasies? Yes. I try to never include Brand Names because what's popular today is riddled in ignominy tomorrow and out of business the day after, BUT sometimes they sneak in there. (I'm lookin' at you Lucite, Hakey Sack, and Frisbee).

Q4: Have I ever removed or edited a piece of technology because it's "too old" for the story?

A4: In Contemporary Fantasy? All. The. Time. I try to stay current on our constantly evolving technologies so as not to overly date a character who's supposed to be on-trend. It's little things that wave the "Get Off My Lawn" flag. Nobody "flips open their phones" anymore, and "swiping" means more than stealing these days. And thank gods for smartwatches and projection keypads because now my protagonist who wears form-fitting dresses can stop stuffing her phone in her bra.

Q5: Have I ever removed or edited a reference because it's "too obscure" for the audience?

A5: Rarely do I remove it. When I do, it's usually because it's part of a joke that's falling flat for all my pre-print readers. Otherwise, obscure references are fun little Easter eggs to drop that'll give an extra grin for anyone who gets the reference but by no means detracts from the narrative for anyone who doesn't get it.  I love to drop Easter eggs.  I am that girl. Not apologizing.

Jump the Shark or Cut to the Chase - It's All Cool Beans to Me

I got to go on  a tour yesterday of Georgia O'Keeffe's winter home and studio in Abiquiu. That's been on my list for a while now and - wow! - it was totally worth it. I love studying how other artists live and it turns out that she and I share many aesthetics. No surprise as I love her work. Also no surprise that she's more visually oriented than I am. My sister-in-law who's a painter asked me if I got any "vibes" from the place. Yes. Yes, I did. Her powerful personality haunts that space and they've kept it exactly as the day she left. Remarkable experience.

This week on the SFF7 wonder blog, we're discussing catering to younger generation – what words and ideas have we given up because younger readers won’t know them. This is my topic, so I'll kick it off with a few stories for why this has been on my mind.

A while back I saw a young agent tweet that an author used "cool beans" in a manuscript they'd sent her and she was embarrassed for them. There's a few things to unpack here, so I'll take them methodically.

1. Agents and editors tweet daily work aggravations, most of which should be treated as the minor irritations they are and not literary canon.
2. Many newbie agents who are actively acquiring are very young. As in, right out of college young. Some still carry that young adult's "Mom, you're embarrassing me!" squick, which enables the young to separate from the older generation. Being a literary agent gives unreasonable weight to what is really something she'll grow out of.
3. Still - how many writers immediately struck "cool beans"off the list of slang terms appropriate for use?
4. Addendum: I've seen the phrase in several books since then. Just saying.

A long time ago, back in the early 80s, the board game Trivial Pursuit came out. My family loved to play this game. I only discovered much later that not every family had the rule that if you'd answered the question in a previous game, you were on your honor to cop to it and draw another question. We viewed it as a test of knowledge. I often complained that many of the entertainment questions were biased for the older generation. In fact, I had a rule of thumb that if I didn't know the actress in question, I'd say "Carole Lombard." For an actor, I'd say Clark Gable. It was like guessing B on a multiple choice test - the odds were in favor of it. 

I've saved this thing for a while from an article in Vanity Fair. The article itself isn't that relevant, as it's dated now, unless you're big into Ryan Gosling history. But this bit caught my eye:

“I think it really is sort of like, I’m a pigeon and the Internet is Fabio and it just happened,” Gosling said to The Hollywood Reporter, attempting to explain the pop-culture phenomenon via obscure Fabio reference. 

Bolding there is mine. I saw that and wondered, since when is a Fabio reference obscure? I mean, yeah, enough of bringing up Fabio in Every Single Article that References Romance, but obscure? This kind of thing is much like snarky agent's tweet above - it reflects the author's narrow view of the world more than anything else.

There are those (who consider themselves purists or arbiters of culture) who say pop references should never be used as they'll date a work to that era. This might be true on some things (hello Ryan Gosling taking a break from acting), but others persist and become emblematic, even iconic (hello Carole Lombard).

What's interesting to me is when pop culture references become so embedded in our lexicon that we later have to dig to retrace their origins. Good examples are Jump the Shark (from the TV show Happy Days, when Fonzie went, of all things, waterskiing in Hawaii and ended up literally jumping over a shark - now a metaphor for any show that takes the plot in an improbable direction) or Cut to the Chase (originally film director's jargon for cutting to the chase scene whenever the movie momentum lagged, now shorthand for getting to the essence of something).

So... how's a writer to know? When does cool become square, and sick become, well, sick?

I'm interested to hear what my superhero SFF7 fellows have to say on their personal rules of them. For me? Well, frankly my dears, I use whatever the hell I want to.

~hat tip to movie lines from the olde era that live forever~

The Pages of The Mind Flash Fiction

 For my  flash fiction I get to use one of Jeffe Kennedy's marvelous covers ...but it was hard because I associate them so strongly with her stories. So I've sort of compromised, keeping the fantasy feeling but offering a vignette from a different time and place of my own.            

“You will tell my story.” Her voice was low and beautiful. He wished he could see her more clearly in the swirling lavender and green mists. She extended the glowing book to him, saying, “It’s all here, all the spells, all the details.”

                “Where are you going? Why can’t I come with you? After all the adventures we’ve shared, why must we separate now?” He clenched his hand on the pommel of his sword.

                “Our destinies lie along different paths and I’m summoned home to my own place and time. Yet if you tell the story true, we may meet again. Take the book, I beg you.”

                Ignoring her outstretched hand, he shook his head. “I’m no scribe, no bard. I can’t do justice to your tale. I can’t even read - you set me an impossible task.”

                The book drifted in the evening breeze, floating from her hand and moving like an oversize butterfly, coming closer to him. Unwillingly he plucked the glowing tome from the air and tucked it under his arm.

                “You should seek help,” she said, retreating a step. “That’s allowed. Go to the city and visit the book seller in the corner of the market square. His daughter will be able to read the runes, can tell you what you must do next.”

                Taking her by surprise as he’d hoped, he leaped forward, capturing one slender wrist. “Swear to me we’ll find each other if I do this.”

                He realized he held nothing but cold mist, as she continued to back away, deeper into the forest shadows. “I did love you,” she said.

Lady of the Star Wind Flash Fiction



For my cover translation flash fiction, I have the great good fortune of pulling Veronica Scott's cover for LADY OF THE STAR WIND

 

 

Someone groaned. His vocal chords burned, leading him to believe he'd uttered the sound. Good sign. He wasn't sucking vacuum. Yet. Forcing his eyes open cost him what felt like a laser cannon blast to the head, but when his vision twisted into focus, the worst of the pain retreated to a sullen, persistent thump in his left temple.

Blue-gray bulkheads surrounded him. Centuries of space travel and no one had found a way to create space-worthy building materials in anything other than grim. The depressing bit was that it wasn't his grim, blue-gray bulkheads.

"Oh good," a feminine voice said. "You lived." She'd propped a shoulder against the door frame. Lush. Blonde.

He shook off his body's interest. More pressing concerns. "Where am I?"

"Aboard the cruiser Star Wind."

"Star Wind. Solar wind," he said. What the hell had happened to his brain that he tripped over translating a poetic ship's name?

She smiled. "Something like."

Focusing on the weapons strapped to her waist, he said, "A destructive force of nature."

"Unless you're armored." She looked him up a down, brows slanted in amusement. "Very few are."

Star Wind. Destructive. He frowned. "My patrol skiff was under attack."

She nodded.

"You rescued me."

"Of course I did," she crooned. "Because the great big payday tucked away in the piece of space debris you patrol goons were guarding isn't the least bit necessary to keep the Star Wind competitive in this cruel universe."

He clenched his fists. "Pirates."

"I prefer 'force of nature.'"

"So I'm a prisoner."

She snorted and straightened. Stepping back, she tapped the doorframe. The distortion of a force field splintered her features. But not her words laced with bloodthirsty amusement. "Oh no captain. We don't take prisoners. We procure entertainment."