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Those of you who have been reading the Lakeshore Chronicles have met Daisy in every book, but her whole story hasn’t been told…until tomorrow, the official pub date of MARRYING DAISY BELLAMY. It’s a very cool story, if I do say so myself.
In Lakeshore Christmas (2009), her story progresses, but again it’s only a secondary plot, so we don’t get to dig too deep.
Daisy’s juggling single motherhood, school and career. And because this is a Wiggs book, she is looking for love. Her dilemma? Does she want to find it with Logan, the father of her child? Or with Julian, the sexy adrenalin junkie who first captivated her when they were in high school?
MY dilemma in Lakeshore Christmas was how far to take the storyline. I can’t reveal who she chooses, but I needed to play fair with the reader. It was tricky. What do you think? Should she choose Logan? Julian? Or what about Zach, the steadfast best friend? Or someone brand new and unexpected?
The massively talented gals at Pens Fatales were nice enough to post this article last month. Here it is again in case you missed it. I would love to hear your strategies for carving out writing time.
I hear it from emerging writers all the time. I’ve got a great idea for a novel. I’m going to sit down and write it as soon as I…
…get my day job under control
…get my final kid into kindergarten
…out of jail
…get my finances in order
…fix my marriage
…finish painting the house
…pay off the car
…clean the can opener
…clean the rain gutters
…get the puppy housebroken
…retire from my job
…finish watching the third season of “Weeds”
…get my Bachelor’s…Master’s…PhD…LLB…MD
…pay off my student loans
…read all the Stephanie Plum books
…check in with my nineteen thousand Facebook friends
…upgrade my computer
…landscape the yard
…take a vacation
…host my book group
…teach my teenager to drive
…finish knitting this sweater
…forgive my parents
…get over my fear of failure
…get over my fear of success
…get permission from my parents/spouse/children/therapist
…hire an agent
…learn to use the subjunctive case
…stop smoking/drinking/playing online games
…figure out the business of publishing
…lose 20 pounds so I look good in my author photo…
You name it, and a procrastinating writer has said it.
Here’s a dirty little secret. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the cruel reality is this. There will never be a good time to write.
Life will always intrude. That’s what life is. Be glad for that. If you have no life, you have nothing to write about.
The good news is, there’s a simple solution. Make time for the things that are important to you. If writing your story is important, make time for it. Simple as that. Turn off the TV, leave the dishes undone, close your e-mail, grab a notebook and pen, and tell your family, “Don’t interrupt me unless your eyes are bleeding.” You’ll be surprised by the respect they give you.
The way you spend your day is the way you spend your life. So quit being your own worst enemy and start being your own best friend. Make time to write, even if you don’t have time.
Susan Wiggs’s life is all about family, friends…and fiction. She lives at the water’s edge on an island in Puget Sound, and she commutes to her writers’ group in a 17-foot motorboat. She’s been featured in the national media, including NPR’s “Talk of the Nation,” and her novels have been translated into more than two dozen languages and have made national bestseller lists, including the USA Today, Washington Post and New York Times lists.
The author is a former teacher, a Harvard graduate, an avid hiker, an amateur photographer, a good skier and terrible golfer, yet her favorite form of exercise is curling up with a good book. Her latest novel, now available, is called Lakeshore Christmas. Readers can learn more on the web at www.susanwiggs.com and on her lively blog at www.susanwiggs.wordpress.com.
Step one – open shitty first draft.
Step two – print out in word draft mode, light colored ink.
Step three – put on extra strong glasses and bright lamp. Rewrite every single page until it looks like it’s bleeding. Be aware that you might need a lot of physical space for laying out the pages. Clothespins are key. So are Post-It notes.
Step five – type in handwritten edits.
Step six – go back to step 2 and do it all again.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Barkis is not too subtle when he wants to go for a walk….
Leave it to my friend Michael to show up with such a one-of-a-kind gift. Only a fellow writer understands the treasure of a 70-year-old magazine:
These are such fun to page through. And so eerily current: Be clear, clean and vivid. Put your heart on the page. Please the reader. Treat writing as your profession. Make time to write. God is in the details. It’s the bottom line in almost every article. And the ads are a hoot!
This is one of my most-read posts. I can only conclude it’s because we writers fantasize about stuff like this. It originally ran several months back. And the link that gets the highest clicks? Irfanview.
I Want an Intern
[With apologies to Judy Brady and her seminal "I Want a Wife" essay.]
I want an intern. Just a little, easy-to-work-with helper who will support my writing enterprise. I want an intern to take care of all the business-y stuff so I can focus on the book. It makes perfect sense for a busy writer to have an intern, because so much of publishing has little to do with the actual writing–the putting down of stories on paper.
Other professionals have interns to see to their needs–doctors, executives, literary agents, even the Authors Guild. So why can’t a writer have an intern, too? Aren’t I a professional? Don’t I have needs? Lawyers have paralegals. I hereby declare that writers deserve to have parawriters.
I want an intern to type up my handwritten manuscripts, never stumbling over an ambiguous squiggle in my penmanship. I want an intern with a double PhD in English Composition and Computer Science, who is a software engineer, a computer technician and a strict grammarian.
Who wears a loin cloth. Who actually looks good in that loin cloth.
It wouldn’t break my heart if this intern just happened to be mute from birth.
Another qualification my intern needs is the ability to organize my workspace according to the principles of feng shui. He will be on intimate terms with productivity websites like www.todoist.com and www.unclutterer.com.
I want him (of course it’s a him; this is my fantasy after all) to make all the airline reservations for all the trips on my schedule. I want him to use my miles to get upgrades and to schedule the flights so I don’t have to catch the 4:45am ferry. He will also search the Internet to find the most exciting, luxurious boutique hotels in the world, at the best possible rates. He will have www.farecast.com and www.yapta.com bookmarked in his browser. He’ll win double air miles for me with every single transaction he makes on my behalf.
My intern will catalogue my research library, clean my gutters and file my tax return. He will schedule my social luncheons, my teeth-cleaning appointments and my weekly massage. He will find Jay’s flannel shirt and trim Barkis’s toenails. My office supplies will be ordered with regularity and stocked neatly and in abundance, even the stupid inkjet cartridges that cost the same as truffle oil.
My intern will get all my mailing done, even if it means standing in line at the post office for forty-five minutes.
He will actually know how to print postage online. (http://www.usps.com/onlinepostage/welcome.htm)
He is going to be a master of databases, my intern, and a god of the laser printer. If I need a set of labels for a mailing to readers in Portland or Terre Haute or Maple Grove, Minnesota, he will produce them in seconds. With a click of the mouse, he can format a beautiful letter, flyer or postcard. He will create flawless PowerPoint presentations highlighting me at my best. He’ll write gracious thank-you notes on cream stock and send them out in a timely manner. He’ll order imprinted tchotchkes to give out at the BEA; he’ll create a lovely gift mailing for my publisher’s sales reps over the holidays.
I want him to answer my e-mail, explaining to HolierThanThou47@aol.com that yes, even though I realize the Almighty Himself gave me my writing talent, my characters are still going to swear, so she can just put her fucking Sharpie marker where the sun don’t shine because I’ll never change. He might put in the subject line, “Greetings from Hell.”
I want an intern who will answer the phone, politely declining offers of aluminum siding, copy machines and magazine subscriptions. He’ll know which friends, family members and colleagues I’ll drop everything to talk to, and which ones to take messages from.
In every bookstore he enters, he will re-shelve the books so that “W” is now in the middle of the alphabet, at eye level instead of toe level.
Prior to any author appearance, he’ll call ahead to make sure all the details are taken care of, so I don’t schlep myself all the way to Puyallup Mall only to find they haven’t ordered enough books. I will no longer worry about booksignings because he will work hand-in-glove with my publisher’s PR firm. He’ll post each event on www.booktour.com and send out invitations to everyone on my mailing list within a fifty-mile radius. He’ll negotiate my speaking fees and take care of the paperwork. He’ll use Irfanview (free download at http://www.irfanview.com/) to convert my photos to the requested 300dpi format. He’ll update my bio and send in any and all requested speaker forms. He will also format and e-mail my workshop handouts for upcoming conferences. He will keep my profiles and posts up to date on Facebook, Shelfari, Gather, MySpace and Amazon blog, vetting the “friend” requests so I will be a dynamic presence in cyberspace. Conversely, he’ll make certain my personal information has been removed from www.zabasearch.com by following the procedure given here: http://www.surfingtheapocalypse.net/cgi-bin/archive.cgi?noframes;read=73180 .
He’ll take flattering digital photos of my events and send them in to Publishers Weekly for “Picture of the Day.” He’ll also post them with witty captions on my website. Regarding that web site, he’ll keep it scrupulously up to date. And speaking of photos, my intern will pick out the most flattering clothes for the photo shoot, and he’ll hire a stylist who will transform my author photo into a great work of fiction.
He will bring me Lady Grey tea in the “Perky” mug, with one level teaspoon of lavender honey stirred in.
He knows when and how to use the subjunctive voice. He understands the usage of aphetic forms and apostrophe placement. He has the ability to retrieve lost e-mails; he can uncorrupt files that have been corrupted, clean out my cache, defrag my disk, leap tall buildings and rectify past wrongs. He spits contemptuously upon spyware and removes it with ease. When a dreaded “cannot open the file” message creeps up, he will open it with TextMaker Viewer (free download here: http://www.softmaker.net/down/TMViewerSetup.exe) and save it as a Word document and I’ll be home free. If someone dares to send me something with the hated .docx suffix, he will convert it without complaint, probably using a tool like this: http://www.docx2doc.com/.
He will respect and honor my insistence on working in WordPerfect, come hell or high water. His research will be impeccable, his fact-checking skills without peer. He’ll create playlists for my iPod, and he’ll organize and label my digital photos so anyone can easily locate the shot of Barkis chasing the coyote on my beach.
My intern will read my page proofs with a ruler under every line, determined to ferret out everything from an apostrophe turned the wrong way to the exact location of the Pax River Naval Station. When he discovers a clueless query from a copy-editor, he will hide the page from me so I don’t waste two hours steaming about it, and when there is any question, he will e-mail Bill at www.theslot.com to settle all disputes. If he spots a snarky review online, he’ll bury it under five stars of praise from at least a half-dozen fake online personas. Just because it seems like a good thing to do, he will track my books’ appearances on bestseller lists, big and small, occasionally presenting me with the information displayed on meaningful graphs and charts.
My intern is happy to deal with the PR firm that asks me to take “just a few minutes” to brainstorm a PR campaign for my next book, including a search for the perfect lakeside resort with easy airport access. (My intern knows I would happily spend days in this pursuit, so he doesn’t even tell me about it.)
With unruffled efficiency, he will write that blurb a book club requested, along with reading-group questions. He’ll make sure I’m prepared to do the Amazon podcast, and a mini-interview for a book chain’s newsletter. He’ll create flashcards with “glaikit” and “blimbing” so I’ll dominate at the next charity spelling bee. He’s always on hand to brainstorm cover art, flap copy or ways to intensify the conflict in my novel. He’ll renew my subscriptions at the proper time, at the discounted group rate. He’ll take care of expense reports, contest entries and membership dues. He’ll find my late mother-in-law’s recipe for tamale pie.
My intern will crunch my numbers, reconcile my modifiers, stroke my ego and rub my neck. He’ll make sure all my pronouns agree with their antecedents. He will boost my creativity, flatter my vanity and pick up my drycleaning.
Wait. If the intern’s doing all that, then I’m stuck writing my novel. What a concept.
[Originally published in NINK, the newsletter of Novelists, Inc.]
Confession time–I stole a book title from Nelson deMille. I didn’t mean to. When I titled my historical romance, I didn’t realize it had been used on Nelson’s thriller. Fortunately, it didn’t appear to create much confusion. But regarding titles, this is something I get asked about from time to time, including today’s question in my e-mail. Number one, can you get in trouble for stealing a title and number two, why would you knowingly do it?
Coming up with the same book title as someone else is nothing new. Especially with internet title searches, Google and Amazon, you can find out in an instant if your book’s title has been used before. Chances are, it has been. Look up “Fire and Ice” on Amazon. Or “Fire and Rain.” Or “Once More With Feeling.” Lots of great minds are thinking alike.
The fact is, a book title isn’t subject to copyright. It’s no crime to re-use a title; it’s really just a matter of judgment. Common sense will tell you not to title your book Gone With the Wind, Clan of the Cave Bear, The #1 Ladies Detective Agency or The Da Vinci Code. Those titles are simply too distinctive and you’d look foolish for using them.
It’s easy enough to re-use a title unknowingly. Long after Home Before Dark was published, I learned there was another book titled Home Before Dark–by another Susan. I bought the book, of course. It’s a memoir by Susan Cheever, nothing like my novel once you turn the title page. I believe there was another The Raven and the Rose published in addition to my 1991 title.
Finding a good book title is hard. Finding the perfect title is a gift from heaven. To my mind, the perfect title captures the essence of the book in a powerful, evocative phrase–Saving Juliet. The You I Never Knew. The Killer Angels. The Princess Diaries. Bastard Out of Carolina. Harriet the Spy. Practical Demonkeeping. Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret. All those titles promise a good read–and deliver.
There’s an interesting article about titles here. It’s both an art and a craft. http://www.articlesaboutbooks.com/Article/Tips-on-Choosing-a-Title-For-Your-Book/1588. It’s more focused on nonfiction but you might glean some insights into picking a title for a novel. http://www.articlealley.com/article_28586_50.html
If your books are related, they need to sound as if they’re in the same family. This can get tricky as the series evolves. The Lakeshore Chronicles are starting to challenge me. I really liked the simplicity of Summer at Willow Lake. My editor came up with The Winter Lodge. They other titles evolved amid much discussion. I’m really happy with The Summer Hideaway, which I’ve just begun working on. “Summer” is a great keyword that conveys the idea of a juicy, fast-paced beach read. My publisher loves the word summer. I’ve had A Summer Affair, That Summer Place, Summer by the Sea and Summer at Willow Lake! So hideaway is a nice addition, particularly since the word “hideaway” implies something intriguing and possibly dangerous, like a character in WITSEC (a witness protection program). Definitely a reason to hide. Away. In the summer. All summer long. See how this works?
It’s easy for a writer to be weird about her titles. I’ve pitched wonderful, glorious titles to publishers, only to have them changed, often for the most random of reasons. Sometimes I come up with a horrible title and it gets changed to a great one. Heavy Breathing became The Ocean Between Us, thanks to my friend Lois. It can work the other way, too. How cute is the title Twyla’s Ten-Year Reunion? That was changed to Husband for Hire. It was. Sometimes you just have to let go.
I am about to change the titles of three already published books. Yep, three of my out-of-print historical novels are going out wearing new titles. And I am going to be wearing a flak jacket, because this is a practice that drives readers crazy. I feel your pain, readers!
What are some of your favorite titles?
Just so you know, I made my deadline. Page proofs for Lakeshore Christmas went in the mail tuh-DAY! Par-TAY!
Today, a step-by-step guide:
- Get up at the crack of dawn. Make strong coffee. Stay in your jammies–who’s gonna know? Set a lofty goal for your page count. Ten pages of your novel, at least.
- Innocently check e-mail queue to make sure the world didn’t come to an end overnight.
- Discover that, yes, the world did come to an end overnight. Your professional world, anyway. Your book, which is a finalist for a big-ass prestigious award–the Queen of all Knicknacks–has not been received for judging at the Central Judging Office of the Universe.
- Remember the unbending strictness of this rule. If books are not received by the cut-off deadline, you will be immediately disqualified. This has happened, people. It’s happened to the best romance writer on the planet. Her contest entry books were held up by trolls at the US/Canada border one year and arrived a bit late and she was DQ-ed and sucked forever into the Tubes of Obscurity. Shudder to imagine the same fate for yourself.
- Suffer deep executive assistant envy of your friends who have them. If you had an executive assistant, you would simply push a button on the intercom and say, “Mr. Matsura, would you please send Five Copies of my Finalist Book to the Central Judging Office of the Universe to arrive before 5pm Central?” And he would adjust his loin cloth and say, “Yes, ma’am, right away ma’am” and you would start scribbling madly, knocking out those pages.
- Shake off fantasy, track the shipment you expedited twelve days ago and discover it has been labeled “Exception” which is their way of saying, “My bad. Your books are lost, honey.”
- Let coffee get cold, decide to go to Proper Office to get more Author Copies to re-send, overnight, at Enormous Financial Expense. Slog up the driveway to Proper Office in your jammies and gardening clogs, praying the neighbors don’t see.
- Cheerily greet Mr. Dow who gives you a wave on the way to get his paper. Tell yourself he already thinks you’re an unemployed alcoholic anyway, so this won’t change anything.
- Discover that there is not a single author copy left of the book in question, except the versions in Chinese, Latvian, Urdu and Manga.
- See if you can figure out a way to pin this fiasco on a man, because somehow it has to be the husband’s fault. Oh! I know! He raided your supply of author copies to give out at a charity golf tournament. It’s too perfect. Better than a smoking gun.
- Call local bookstore which has good news! They have completely sold out of that title! 100% sell-through, baby!
- Call adorable daughter. Learn that she is suffering from the plague and consigned to bed and besides, her local bookstore only has three copies anyway. Call indulgent mother. Learn that she is gone to a Red Hat Meeting and besides, her bookstore is fresh out of copies, too.
- Sheepishly e-mail publisher and ask if they can send books. Remember publisher is in Canada and fear that Border Trolls will hold up the shipment. Listen to Adam Lambert’s “Mad World” with new appreciation for the lyrics.
- As a back-up plan, log into Big Giant Online Lollapolloza Bookstore and order 5 copies to be sent overnight, at Enormous Personal Expense. Feel nervous about the Fine Print.
- Consider calling girlfriends in Houston to ask them to round up books and take them to the HQ of the Biggest Writers’ Organization in the Universe (BWOU). Realize girlfriends have better things to do with their time.
- Discover that the BWOU employs a compassionate person who wants to help. Accept her offer to pick up books at a local bookstore. Dub her your NBF (New Best Friend). Call local bookstore and be told they don’t accept payment over the phone. Overnight check + chocolate to NBF.
- Realize the Hq of the BWOU will soon receive 20 or 25 copies of Finalist Book.
- Dare to look at clock. Remember company is coming for dinner. You are still in your jammies and there is no food. Regard blank pages in horror.
- Clonk head on desk.
- Repeat as necessary.