The Writer Answers

*Sorry about this, most of the post seems to have got cut SOMEHOW when this first went up. So, let's do this properly this time.*

Partly because I wasn’t sure what to write about, and partly because I think we keep trying to do articles on specialized points while there is a vast under-store of ignorance there that we aren’t even scratching, (mostly because today I got yet another nice email from a nice young man asking me to help him get published) I figured I’d ask my fans what I should be answering.

However, a funny thing happened on the way to certainties. I find that in casting my eyes over most of the entries, most of them are things I’d have answered unwaveringly a year or two ago but of whose answer I’m not absolutely sure now. Because ebooks are changing the way business is done, I can give you the “official” – i.e. this is how I did it/would have done it till recently – answer, then the answer I SUSPECT is true now. The caveat for those is please remember I broke in THIRTEEN years ago, and the new realities of the market are not something I’ve experienced first hand. I might know a little more than you, but only because I read blogs and listen to friends. I don’t know for sure.

I’ll use the questioner’s name for the question, then OA for official Answer then BG for Best Guess.

SS:To agent, or not to agent? And, if yes, *how* to agent?
What the heck is a "query", and how does one go about concocting such a beastie?

OA: You have to have an agent to get published with a big publishing house. I suggest writing a query for your best novel (no one agents short stories). Then ask published writers for recommendations to agents and/or snoop on authors blogs to figure out who their agents are. Read the agents’ descriptions for fit with your work. Before sending queries to your picked ten or so, check preditors and editors to make sure you didn’t pick skunks. Send out. If one replies, then send out whatever they ask for, no more no less. Do not send out proposals or manuscripts to more than one agent at once. Wait for an answer. If the agent offers to represent you, watch very carefully to see how enthusiastic they are. You want an agent who LOVES your work.
A Query is a lot like the blurb in the back of a book, with a difference, you actually tell the agent/editor how it ends.

BG: Someone I respect greatly in the field just said it’s stupid to have an agent these days, that in the current publishing climate an agent gets you nothing. I don’t fully understand her angle unless she’s counting out all of big publishing, but she’s not the first much-more-established-writer than I that I heard it from, and when she says stuff like that, I wonder.

JD: Contracts: What’s fair? What’s a Trap? How far to trust your agent?

OA: At the most basic, contracts should establish that money flows to the writer. Anything requiring you to pay is unacceptable. Beyond that, there are many things that are traps, things that you should be able to figure out with common sense: contracts that get the rights to all your characters, or where you transfer copyright to the publisher. (This might be all right for SOME short stories, like using other people’s characters per invite. NEVER for a novel, unless it’s a media tie-in.) Other clauses to watch for will say things like, you can’t work for anyone else until your story is PUBLISHED. Since you can’t control the date of publication this could tie you up forever. Sometimes they just say you can’t work for anyone else period. Anything like that, run very fast. And if your agent tells you it’s okay, run from agent, too.

CDC: Keeping track of query letter and sent manuscript submissions and responses.
OA: I haven’t done this in very, very long. It’s far more important for short stories, when it climbs into the dozens. But I suggest a spreadsheet program, or else one of many specialized programs available. I’m blanking on names, can someone in the audience help. I’m thinking of Write Again. Not sure if that’s true.

MB: Alpha readers, beta readers, writing groups, and all that. I just had someone fretting about "losing their ideas" if they participate in a writing group -- I told them they were more likely to never find their ideas if they didn't participate. But... there's that running fear that somehow talking to people will ruin you, somehow?
OA: You need reality checkers. I’ve covered writing groups in several columns, and the importance of finding a writer group that works for you. If a writer group isn’t doable, at least find two critique partners you can trust and trade manuscripts.
No, you’re not going to have your ideas stolen. And no, no one can change your writing style, or at least not permanently. It is human to influence each other, but life also influences you. To grow you have to change and you don’t live in an hermetically sealed bag.

SS: In the absence of a co-conspirator with remarkably pointy shoes, how to recognize when one has reached the point of "polishing the cannonball", as we called it in the Navy, and firing off a submission rather than endlessly re-reading and re-revising ...
OA: Ah. I do this too and I went through long years without co-conspirators. It’s hard. My advice is that when you feel like you’re adding more errors than you’re removing (you find the subplot you just added in doesn’t mesh with an earlier one, for instance) or when you feel you’re being particularly clever (no, seriously, this is usually a symptom) or when you go above 200k words, it’s time to let go. Otherwise, establish an arbitrary number of passes, say, five. After five passes it leaves the house. (I can only do three or I kitchen sink it – I throw in EVERYTHING plus the kitchen sink.)

BG: If you’re going to self-publish as is an option this day, hire a trusted copy editor. I don’t care how good you are, you’ll drive yourself insane proofing and stuff will still escape you.

OP: As a former wannabe writer, I'm more interested in the business aspects. They are more relevant to my life. Your opinion of the right mix between paid writing and freebies that hook people in, for example.

OA: in general business “coverage” – I was told that you should quit your day job when you were selling fifty percent of everything you sent out. I’ve been there for years but if I had a day job I wouldn’t quit it. I’d guess right now, with the uncertainty, you’d have to be closer to eighty percent. Also, I would advise something I’m just now implementing: have multiple income streams, say novels and short stories and articles and whatever else you can get. If one of them can be regular pay, like a paid blog, that will give you some security. As for mix between paid and free – the freebies I give away that are fiction are usually already-published things. There’s also blogging and mine for my three base blogs (my own, my group blog and the other group blog) are still mostly free, but I’m starting to branch out into paid blog articles. Look, you need the exposure, it’s all there is to it, but if you find it taking most or even half of your time, you’ll have to cut back. Only you can find your balance.

EM – ebooks. Are ebooks merely paper books transformed to electrons? (like the early TV shows were just televised plays) or is there more potential in this medium? Hyperlinks, embedded video, embed sound effects,.....what else?
BG: I don’t know. I find that a book is a book is a book. Once you put in hyperlinks and embedded video, you’re running the risk of people not coming back to the story. Maybe my opinion is influenced by all those examples I’ve seen of this sucking badly. However, I still think a book is a book. But things that can improve the book while just a book are available in e – like the ability to search for a character name/word. That can really help when you want to go back and check on something.

SB – How about baby steps for the very beginning writer, such as how to find someone who can say "you've got potential" or " was that suppose to read like bad Twain?"
OA: I find that “potential” or “talent” is one of the worst lies writers buy into. We have a great desire to write and we want to believe it’s somehow meant to be. Look, the only thing I’ve found “natural talent” or “potential” good for is to give you some things “for free.” In my case it’s characters. I understand Dave Freer got plot for free. The rest we had to work for. What most laymen will tell you is that “you have potential” based on LANGUAGE. Language is easy. It’s the story telling that’s difficult. I am telling you now that if you really want to write, and are willing to study how to, including grammar and expression, you have enough talent. How to find critiquers, OTOH is a problem. Ask at your local library if there’s a writers’ group and then screen them for experience, right field, etc. Alternately, grab a few friends you know are readers and make them read your stuff. (Paying in chocolate works!) This has the advantage that you presumably know your friends’ idiosyncracies.

AKD: Years ago, I had an agent who convinced me to write a truly appalling cover letter cum proposal letter (yes, same document). Which was mailed to every publisher in the world, and was rejected. I parted ways with the agent, but I still have great faith in the series that was rejected. However, I can't even bring myself to do anything with it, because I'm convinced that it was so appallingly presented that my letter is still be laughed about in the publishers' offices. Should I just kill the whole idea? Change my name?

Okay. Breathe. First of all 99% of the submissions or queries sent in by a low-status agent don’t even get read. I’m assuming this was not an A lister with offices in NYC, so, chances of it having been read at all are zero. Second, even if it was read, if you got back a standard rejection, it was read by an under-editor or an intern. These stay at the houses a maximum of a year, according to my experience. The chances of anyone now at publishing offices knowing or remembering this letter are zero. Honestly, if you’d done slush, you’d realize what it takes to be memorable in the bad category: death threats, live animals, body parts and nude pictures MIGHT do it. A bad query is as unmemorable as a oh, hum face in a crowd. Don’t change your name. Don’t kill the idea. Just send it out again

BG: or, alternately, publish it yourself on Kindle. *At this point, for certain genres this might be a better way to break in.*

RE: not just tell, SHOW it, if he's a nose picker have him do it in a scene where it's funny or inappropriate while being given instructions or mission orders and all he can think about (along with the reader) is where to put the booger.
OA: Okay, this was part of a longer ramble on a different suggestion for another post, I know, but I MUST insist RE go on over to my blog and read the post called Ick. This is an example of something memorable to have the character do that... serves no purpose and makes me instantly go “ick” and fling the book away. Unless you’re writing “gross out horror” for which the market is very limited, you can’t get away with having the VILLAIN do this, much less the hero. Remember your character is supposed to be someone we want to spend time with (if only to see him coming to a bad end.) Evil might fascinate. Gross will just make us look away.











*Crossposted at According To Hoyt*

Beware, Toxic

We’ve discussed before – I think – the absolute necessity for getting out of your head, now and then, and talking to real people, or at least those projections of real people that are various email and chat programs.

Even if you have a real job – but particularly if you don’t – writing will warp you. If you’re not in touch with other writers on a regular basis, you’ll find yourself wondering if you invented your family and friends and marveling at that amazing creation: your very cranky boss.

At least if you get together with other writers, you can argue about who wrote the cranky boss and – very important – why someone keeps writing editors that reject you.

More importantly, though, particularly in the beginning, it is important to get together with other writers and critique each other’s work.

But Sarah, you say – yes, you, the gentleman third from the left on the fifth row. Did you bring enough candy for everyone? – “My mother/Aunt Mimi/cat loves my work. Why do I need to expose myself to the critique of strangers that happen to be writers?”

Because your mother/Aunt Mimi/cat (and why is your cat talking to you? Worse, why have you taught your cat to read? You do realize if she gets hold of a work on mind-control and hypnosis we’re done as a species, right?) might not be playing favorites. They might be brutally honest with you. However unless one of them is a writer, professional editor, or somehow involved in reading a lot of the type of work you write (your cat? REALLY?)_they might spot something is wrong, but not be able to tell you what. Or even worse, depending on where you are, not be able to tell you how to optimize your work (ie. They’ll assume because it’s readable it’s good enough to be published) or assume it’s the worst thing ever written because there’s a mistake or two (i.e. “Don’t quit your day job, you have five punctuation mistakes!”) Meanwhile, someone striving to learn the craft, even if at the same level or not much advanced than you can help, because they might have discovered a way to solve something that’s bothering you. Yeah, you’ll do a lot of sharing of ignorance, but if you’re persistent and work hard, eventually you’ll stumble in the right direction.

There are many ways to find a writers group: call your local library; join RWA or the association best suited to your writing (RWA takes unpublished members. With other associations it varies) and ask about a local critique group; hang a sign on your window (be careful it doesn’t sound like a ransom note. They might think the cat is holding you hostage); and as a last resort, form one. (An ad on Craigslist might do that.)

Once you find a writers’ group, you must make sure it’s a good one. I will not mention any of the normal precautions when meeting strangers. (Meet in a public place first; have some common sense; don’t accept candy; don’t tell them your cat can read, etc.)

Instead, I will deal with: The Top Ten Signs that your Writers’ Group is Toxic.

10 - The dilettante group: You’re the only person in the group who writes. The others come for the cheese, the dominoes or to look at your talking cat. They might be lovely folks, but if you stick around you’ll also become one of those writers in name only. Come for the cookies, find another critique group.

9 - The generalist group: There’s someone who writes romance, two elderly ladies who write erotica, a punk rocker who writes biblical adventure, a gentleman who is writing his memoirs from the Korean war and those cute chicks who drawvampire picture books. No one is writing your interest which is – let’s say – fantasy. This means either they compliment you on coming up with this cool concept: elves! Or they tell you this can’t be fantasy, it doesn’t sound a thing like Harry Potter. (Or Tolkien.) RUN. Run very fast. If you stay you’ll find yourself having to include paragraphs on how and why your magical spell works. A fantasy editor will think you’re insane.

8 - The Personality Cult Group: There is one writer who is published – weirdly, usually this means one short story in a small press magazine ten years ago – and who therefore holds the key to all your future careers. In her mind, at least (and possibly her cat’s mind.) what she says sets the tone for what everyone thinks about your story. Worse, what she says is the “truth” engraved in stone and brought down from the mountain. This might be fine, if she is an icon in the field you hope to break into or if the person is understanding and empathetic enough to be able to guide you (and that usually only works in the beginning. Later, you’ll need more specific critique.) But if you’re writing SF and she writes for Ladies Home Journal and she thinks there is ONE right way to write, you will have a problem.

7 - The Clique: These people have been together since the time of dinosaurs. Instead of studying published works/the market/field blogs/etc, they have decided it’s much easier and greater fun to develop their own rules of good writing. These range from the loony “you can not use words of different derivation together.” to the otherworldly “No book with a character named Stephen can get sold in today’s market.” to the deceptively reasonable-sounding “No one will buy a novel over 100 k words.” If you stay there, you’ll join the clique. This would be okay, except their rules have nothing to do with what publishers want and will distort your style. If you stay a while, then leave, they’ll hate you. Meet, greet, drink the coffee and RUN.

6 - The Worshipers: Similar to the Cult of Personality, except the worshiped one is not a member of the group but some great writing teacher long departed. The difference between someone like me, who recommends a writer of how-to-write books like Dwight Swain, and a worshiper is that I don’t ask you things like “did you read what he says on page seven?” Unless you agree with them that this teacher is the be all end all of writing technique and that you want to write just like that, don’t bother. If you choose to stay, memorize the scriptures. And pray that this writing teacher IS the right guide to what publishing houses want right now.

5 - The Haters: face it, they’re just not that into you. It’s not even your writing. Conversations stop when you enter the room. They ask you when you stopped beating your cat. And of course, they hate everything you ever wrote. Give it up. Basic human chemistry is needed too.

4 - The Flounderers: they’re worse than your cat at critiquing. “I feel you’re just wrong here. Sort of. Kind of. Maybe it’s this other thing. Have you considered writing about cats?” If you can’t figure out what they’re saying and they can’t explain it, maybe you should consider finding a group that speaks your language.

3 - The Feuders: You’ve just joined the writing group where half the members are Montagues and the Capulets and you find your critiques being judged on the basis of which group you’re aligning yourself with. Beware any less than complimentary critiques or even praise if given to the wrong person. There will be revenge. Do I need to tell you to get out?

2 - The Concerned Ones: They’ll follow you outside after the meeting and give you “advice” strictly for your own good, of course. It will be stuff like, “You’ll never get published until you fix your commas.” The person giving the advice will have no more credits than you. But it’s their way of claiming superiority. They’re notorious for not giving their “help” in front of the rest of the group. If they’ve been in the group very long, don’t stay. If you’re both new, hope the concerned one leaves first. If not, you leave.

1 - The Flatterers: Everything you write is gold. Gosh, wow, oh, heavens, you’re even better than your cat. And your Aunt Mimi doesn’t love you enough. Would you like the comfy chair? Is that cushion what you needed? Have a cookie. We just love you. You’re so talented.
I’m not going to tell you to run. I mean, we all need a pat in the back now and then. But tell them you’re busy and can only come once a month (do you want to get fat from all the cookies?) Then find someone who will give you a good critique.

Questions? Suggestions? Additions? (What did your cat say?)

Critique Groups

Wow, it's different doing the blog during the week instead of on Sunday! No one has their week of blog posts up for me to review and link to. The week-in-round-up posts aren't there. No one's screaming more than usual about the e-book v. hard copy version price war. What to do, what to do? Well, actually they are, but I'll touch on that Sunday.

So, with your indulgence, I'd like to venture once again into the always explosive topic of writers groups. More specifically, critique groups and the good and bad that can come from them.

Right now, I'll admit I've written, deleted and rewritten this post at least three times. Part of the reason is I'm still trying to get enough coffee flowing through my veins so my brain can work. Another part is because, as I said, this can be such an explosive topic. Finally, because it is very easy to get academic on this topic in order to keep from stepping on toes. Well, here's fair warning to those of you currently barefoot or in sandals -- hide your toes because here I come.

I've written about critique groups before. In that post I discussed the rules successful critique groups should follow and linked to some very good posts on the subject.

Today, I'd like to talk about another aspect of critique groups. And I'll admit this is partially brought on by Dave's post yesterday about working through real life issues and how they impact your writing. As a relatively new writer, I rely on my critique groups to help point out when I'm letting real life impact my work -- especially when it does so in a negative way. I'm not disciplined enough yet to always see it myself and the group setting allows me to see what others see in my work and then talk out possible solutions. Both of the groups I belong to are excellent for this and I appreciate their help more with each day that passes.

But there is a downside to critique groups, one I'd done my best to forget about until recently when a friend of mine asked me to read something they'd* written. This was the first time this person had shared anything with anyone for years. Which is a real shame because this person happens to be very talented. But, like so many writers I know, when it comes to their own writing, there is little confidence.

So, you ask, why had this person been hiding their work under the bed? Very simply, just as with me in my first group, they'd been torn down one too many times by someone else, someone who represented themselves as the expert. They'd been told what they were writing made no sense, wasn't worthy of submitting, was badly written... Well, you know the litany.

Hearing all that, I flashed back to my first group and my feelings of utter defeat. Our so-called expert expected us to write just like her. She gave revenge critiques if we didn't all just adore her submissions. And no one, ever, would be as good as she was. She crushed all of us down, just as my friend had been crushed by their critique group. How many other aspiring writers have faced the same situation?

A critique group should, in my opinion, serve several purposes. It should assist us in becoming better writers. It is a chance to socialize with others who share similar interests. Even some online critique groups have figured this out and have started chats and message boards for that purpose. These groups -- or even just critique partners -- aren't there to serve solely as ego boosters or as a platform to prove you're the best. Finally, a critique group is a chance to network. It is surprising the information you can get from a group. That writer sitting next to you might be a lawyer or a cop or a rocket scientist, a mother or a teacher or a doctor. They have knowledge that might help you make a character more believable. And, if they don't, they might know someone who does and be willing to make an introduction.

So what are your thoughts on critique groups and partners? Advice or warnings? Horror stories or success stories?

* Yes, I know I'm violating any number of grammar laws with my pronoun use here and later. But I am doing it to preserve the anonymity of my friend who reads this blog and would run and hide if they thought I was writing about them. All I can say is this person doesn't belong to the Bar, so the two of you who have been holding your breath can breathe now.

To Critique or Not to Critique . . . .

A lot of people look at writing as a solitary profession and, in a way, it is. Unless you are working with a co-author, you tend to research and write on your own. If you're like me, it's difficult to write if there are too many distractions. I don't mean if there's too much noise, etc., but too many demands on me by family members and friends. The phone calls during the "business" day when I'm trying to write. The "requests" that something be done around the house. Because of that, I tend to pack up the Eee, my notes and my iPod and run off to one f the lcoal coffee shops or the library for a couple of hours to write.

That said, for me, there is one aspect of writing where it is no longer a solitary profession. That's when it comes to critiques. I don't know about the rest of you, but I much prefer an in-person critique group. There is something about the face-to-face interaction during a critique session that I need. It's part social, part getting immediate feedback on my stories without the possible misunderstandings that come from email.

It's been a long time since I've been part of a "live" critique group. There are several in my area and my reasons for not joining them are myriad. Then the local library decided to start a critique group and asked me to head it up. This is a new role for me and one I take seriously, especially when it comes to the actual critique part of the group. And that sent me to the internet looking for a how-to guide on critiquing.

One of the best, not only because it follows my own philosophy but because it is SHORT comes from a guest blog at Nathan Bransford's blog. Rick Daley sums up the art of giving and taking a critique very nicely. When giving a critique, you should follow what he calls the "sandwich technique": start with a positive note, give your honest opinion about the work and then close on a positive and encouraging note. One of the best things he says, in my opinion, is to be careful when rewriting part of the work you're critiquing. Changing a word or phrase is one thing, but rewriting whole passages is more than critiquing, it's changing the voice and that is not what you want to do.

So what should you not do when critiquing:

• don't be too apologetic because it undermines what you're trying to say,
• don't hunt for something to crit. Sometimes the work really is good.
• don't limit your critique to just saying good things if you see something that needs to be worked on just because you are afraid of hurting their feeligns. You don't help your critique partner that way,
• on the opposite side of the coin, don't be a jerk about the critique either. Your critique partner will get much more out of your critique if you don't go into attack mode.

I'll add something else to this list: don't get personal with your critique. If you don't normally read or like the particular genre of story/book you're critiquing, let the author know. And don't start out with something along the lines of, "I really hated this story...." It does nothing but put the author on the defensive and undermines anything you might have to say in your critique.

When you are the one receiving the critique, what should you do?

• don't pout if you don't like what you hear,
• wait until you get all the feedback before considering changes
• seriously contemplate your changes. Take your time and think them through.
• look for common threads in the feedback and start from there
• if someone provides a rewrite as part of their critique, consider it and try to figure out what they were getting at, but don't just copy it. To do so may change the "voice" of that particular passage,
• ask for clarification if you don't understand something said in a critique,
• thank the people who took time to read and then offer a critique of your work.

I'll add one more to that list: don't argue with those giving you a critique. I know it's hard to hear that the book or story you've been writing might not be the next best seller, but you asked for the critique and they might actually see something you don't.

There are some other sites offering suggestions on how to critique:

• David Alexander Smith has a "Checklist for Critiquing Science Fiction" on the SFWA site.
• Andrew Burt's "The Diplomatic Critiquer" can be found at the OWW site.
• Victory Crayne has a detailed article on "How to Critique Fiction".

So, what rules do your critique groups follow? Do you prefer an in-person group or on-line, or do you do both? Most important of all, what do you expect to get out of a critique group? I appreciate your help with these questions because I really do want to help make the library's group a success.

Lone Wolves N' Critters

So what's your critiquing style? How do you milk those nuggets of wisdom about your work from the minds of other writers?

There is the ever-popular critique group.

Advantages include the ability to bitch over coffee, or for late-night varieties, dinner and few choice glasses of wine. Networking is a bonus, and in the right company can be lots of laughs. Also on the upside, there is usually no shortage of opinions. In fact many groups bloat to such a size they are in danger of becoming dysfunctional. By the time you have reached the stage where you have a chairperson with a stop watch and you start talking in abbreviated code with words like 'Ditto' and 'Anti-Ditto' its probably time to lead a revolution or form a splinter group (or both!)

One disadvantage of the critique group is that they can fall into a rut.

The first species of rut is of the safe & predicable kind, where everyone is well known and overly careful of other peoples feelings (or just downright hedging/holding back and favoring potential networking over critique). Everyone enjoys a nice coffee and perhaps may leave with an glow of satisfaction, but key problems with work go unremarked.

Another species of rut is where a skewed dynamic takes hold. Perhaps most of the writers favor certain types of writing, genres, or characters. Over time a small clique emerges that dominates the tone and direction of critique - limiting the range of feedback as other opinions are squashed, or are expected to be so out of favor they are not mentioned in the first place. Perhaps people whose work is on the 'out' of the norm will be regularly targeted - and they find themselves in vehement finger-pointing territory. This doesn't mean that the clique are wrong, sometimes you get the most useful crits from the Hostiles, but if its so demoralizing that the writer's work ends up grinding to a halt - that's time to bail out.

Other writers go the Lone Wolf. Writing mostly alone, self-editing then getting critique only from one or two other writers they know and trust.

One example that springs to mind Louise Cousak. She told me once that she just cannot do the crit group thing. For the first draft she pretends she is the best writer in the world and does it all without external input. Only after the masterpiece is finished does she fish it out. There is an echo there with Stephen King from On Writing. In the book he says, 'Write first for yourself, then for everyone else'. Another version of this is: Write the first draft with the door closed and the second draft with the door open. I think I also recall that Kim Wilkins also tends to go the lone wolf. So there are a couple of very successful Australian writers who don't favor critique groups, but produce good quality work regardless.

I guess I howled in the wilderness for a long time before I found my first critique group. Now I tend to gravitate toward groups, although I also have a few writers I will shoot material off to on the run. Now days I do find it hard to physically get to a meeting, although that's the time factor more than anything else.

What works for you? Got any traps for the unwary to share?

The Elusive Guidebook

There is a rulebook, its just covered in elbow-grease and slips out of my fingers as soon as I get a grip on it. Every now an then I manage to flip it open at a random page and get a glimpse of something, then its flopping onto the floor again. There are a few writers who have read pages and pages of that thing – even whole sections – but they aren’t telling (You Know Who You Are!!!!).

Perhaps it was the first time I glimpsed that self-same rulebook on the bookshelf – and managed to tease it down like an Indian Snake Charmer – that I got my first character ‘eureka!’ moment.

‘That’s it!’ I thought. Character sympathy! That’s the key to hooking a reader.

I did get excited, because you only get that one chance to draw someone into your story, be it a casual reader — or potential editor. Once you get a reader interested in your character, they might forgive you for bumps in the other story elements e.g. plots, world building, PoV, multiple characters, action scenes etc.

So I thought I had it. Build the sympathy!

The trick is – and what I learned the hard way – was that what one reader responds to in a character is often vastly different to another – in fact often diametrically opposed. One reader’s cool detached hero is another’s arrogant, insufferable narcissist.

I used to come home from critique groups often puzzled by contradictory comments that made little sense until the penny finally dropped. If people don’t like your characters, they just will NOT gel with your story. Once you reach that stage the critter will start (often unconsciously) working overtime to find all the things ‘wrong’ with your piece, when the real problem is that it simply has no resonance for them. They will talk vehemently about the punctuation on p3, or how they got mixed up in the dialogue, the logic error in par 5, or yada yada, yada…

Even successful writers don’t seem to have real control over reader’s reactions.

One of David Gemmell readers all time favorite characters is Waylander. David Gemmell himself set out to make this guy a real piece of work – a nasty customer that no one should like; a ruthless assassin that kills without a thought. The surprise was that people loved Waylander, and he went on to be one of Gemmell’s most successful characters, extending over three books and carrying the story well in each one. So why did people respond to Waylander? Was there something unconsciously carried through from Gemmell about that character’s destiny that altered his portrayal? Or do people just love the bad guy – the old Sympathy for the Devil chestnut?

Are the ways of building sympathy for a character as wildly different as the characters people enjoy?

What really draws you into a character? They way they love someone else or show they care? Being the underdog? Strength? Courage? Determination? Their vulnerability? Their sheer undead coolness?

Please let me know – while I keep trying to get a grip on that darn slippery rulebook.