From
May 2004 UPDATE
WRW's
Undiscovered Treasure Chest by Robin L.L. Allen
A
Newbie Survives Her First Contest by Laura Armstrong
Archived Articles
WRW's
Undiscovered Treasure Chest
Last week, I commuted to work with Julia Quinn and Debbie Macomber.
A few weeks before that, it was Suzanne Brockmann, Jayne Ann Krentz,
and Patricia Gaffney. Well, those were the big names--there were
lots of others, like an RWA member who's both a published author
and a certified tax preparer, and the St. Martin's and Warner
editors.
And
no, I have not resorted to kidnapping the NYT List in order to
use the HOV lanes. (Hey, there's an idea...!) I'm talking about
speakers on tape from the WRW library.
I dreaded going back to work because it include a 57-mile commute
in each direction (Fredericksburg, VA, to Washington, DC). Schedules
and location kept me out of car or vanpools and therefore out
of the HOV lanes. Even on the best day, commuting took a minimum
of an hour and fifteen minutes each way. What ticked me off the
most was that for two and a half hours a day I couldn't even think
about writing. Or could I?
"Well,
at least you can listen to books-on-tape," one friend reassured
me. Not me. Last time I tried that, I was so caught up in the
story, not only did I miss my exit, I had no recollection of most
of the drive home - I could have left tread marked corpses and
flaming 18-wheelers behind me without ever knowing it. Not a good
scenario for a daily I-95 commute!
BUT--tapes.
I had heard about the WRW library, but always figured I did not
have time to listen to tapes at home, and would probably wander
off to do laundry and miss the relevant information anyway. Actually,
I hoped I would be spending my time doing something even more
useful, like Finishing The Damn Book. Not to mention the fact
that my kids prefer Elmo in any form to Tax Tips for the Part-time
Writer.
Yes,
I had tons of excuses ready for not listening at home, but since
I was already trapped in the car maybe I could try a couple of
tapes. I dug out my library list and started highlighting possible
topics of interest. Then I stepped back to stare at the now-bright-yellow
pages. My wish list was a whole lot longer than I had expected.
Some were "must hears" - like the Keynote from the 2002 RWA Convention.
Others were more at the "Huh-I'd never go to that in person...wonder
what it's really all about?" level.
I started ordering them five at a time, figuring that would give
me one tape a day for a week. Logical. Reasonable. But it didn't
take into account this past winter's weather, the inability of
any municipality in a tri-state area to clear the streets of snow,
or the infamous Tractor Guy. There were days I listened to three
tapes in the morning.
The
amazing thing was I found my stress levels dropping. I wasn't
wasting time sitting in traffic; I was listening to people I respect
and admire on topics I was interested in. And staying sane during
three-plus hour commutes. And, it turns out, learning a lot.
I've
learned that mileage to and from chapter meetings, not just conferences,
can be taken off your taxes if you are conducting your "business
of writing" in a professional manner. For me, coming from Fredericksburg,
that's over $350 a year I can now deduct with a little bit of
back-up paperwork.
From comments that editors or authors made during the Q and A
sessions after a talk, I've learned which editors are looking
for atypical stories for their houses.
I
get tips on the in-and-outs of publishing politics and marketing
from NYT bestsellers. So, tell me, is the regional marketing representative
from your publishing house on your Christmas card list
yet?
I
am secure in the knowledge that some authors have viable careers
doing a page a day, four days a week, while others do 35 pages
a day, six days a week, which leaves a comfortably W-I-D-E middle
ground for the rest of us.
Probably
70 percent of the speakers I've listened to referenced the same
four books. Does it surprise anyone that I've now put four certain
books at the top of my "to get" list? (Reference books? Yup, I
know how to take those off my taxes, too.) When two different
speakers on unrelated tapes suggested listening to "anything Julia
Quinn presented on dialogue," I went down the library list and
found her tape--and discovered not only do I know a whole lot
more about dialogue than I thought--I am doing it right! And I've
had fun. (Fun commuting? Geez, there's a concept!!) I've cried
with Suz Brockmann's stories of how 9-11 made her believe in romance
more than ever before. Laughed with stories of newly bought authors
calling the publishing house back "to make sure they really meant
it." Groaned along with tales of crooked agents. Nodded along
with "mom tales" of things kids have done that author-moms then
turned into storylines. Do the other commuters on the road think
I'm insane? Probably. Do I care? Nope.
There
are some down sides--topics handled in a dull manner or by people
who are just really poor public speakers. There's the occasional
misleadingly titled panel. That's what the fast-forward button
is for. The biggest drawback is the lack of a binder from the
conference that has all the handouts. Luckily, most tapes include
an email or web address to send off to for copies of the materials
referenced.
The
tapes usually run about 45 minutes, including questions. You can
stop, rewind, or as mentioned fast forward. I've listened in 10
minute spates between traffic reports, or for 2 hours straight
pausing only to change tapes. Some mornings, I just listen to
the radio, but usually I find myself grabbing a tape. Why? Because
I've found they are really making a difference. I'm more confident
in what I write. I'm beginning to understand where my weak spots
really are--and better yet, where my strengths really are.
I
started out joking with friends and family that my commute was
now professional development time. Six months later, I'm writing
more and I'm less stressed from the drive I have to make anyway.
It looks like I wasn't kidding.
Chapter
membership provides a wealth of resources to authors of every
level. I think the library is one of WRW's most under-used treasure
troves--both books and tapes. You'll be surprised at what you
find. Check it out!
--
Robin
L.L. Allen has been an active WRW member since 1996. She's been
Program Chair and currently serves on the Program Committee and
Taping Committee. She writes contemporary romantic suspense.
A
Newbie Survives Her First Contest
The white Tyvek envelope on the dining room table looked familiar.
Ah, yes, that would be my own handwriting. My critiques from the
Marlenes were home.
There
wasn't a moment to survey them in private. I was just home from
work, the kids were running circles around me smacking each other
with pretend light sabers, and my husband was asking, "What time's
dinner? I've got basketball tonight." I snatched up the envelope
and made for the relative peace of my kitchen.
It
took me a minute to process the contents of the envelope. It was
no surprise that my score wasn't the highest. The good news was
it wasn't the lowest. The bad news was it also wasn't all that
close to the middle. "Ow-ee," as my youngest would say.
Judge
Number 1 (not the real number) gave me reasonably solid marks
and had nice things to say about some of the things I liked about
the story myself. Her criticism was gently handed to me, and I
nodded over it. Thank you, Judge Number 1.
Judge
Number 2 (again, not the real number) was a different story. "Well,
someone must have been in a bad mood that day," was my first thought.
She pretty well slammed me. She didn't like my main character,
she thought my dialogue was below average, and it was obvious
she was scraping for something to say in the "Describe one thing
the author did well" section. It stung.
Thank
you, Judge Number 2.
Don't
misunderstand me. I mean that.
It
took a few readings of the criticism to get to that state of gratitude.
It took a couple hours of in-bed-ceiling-staring, too. Was I that
bad? Was I pursuing a dream that was unrealistic? I had the expected
talk with my husband. "Maybe I should just quit writing," I suggested
half-heartedly. We both knew it was a ploy for sympathy. He snorted
and said, "Cut it out. You're good at this and you know it. When
did you write that thing, anyway?" (We are staying married, by
the way. He passed the test.)
This was a good point. My contest entry was the very first book
I'd ever completed, written five years ago, before I knew RWA
or WRW existed or realized that writing was a tough business.
I'd written it for fun, primarily just to see if I could do it.
I hadn't revised it other than make sure everything was spelled
correctly and the punctuation was reasonably correct.
That
was one of the things Number 2 was annoyed with me about, by the
way.
The
fact is, she was right. Her comments were insightful, and, ego
out of the way, I could see what she meant. I had given very little
for the reader to like about my main character. Knowing the full
story in my head, I liked her, and I knew the reader would grow
to like her, but had I convinced anyone of her worthiness in the
opening chapters? Not really.
My
use of dialogue, which I consider one of my strengths, did not
show to its best in the pages offered. I got caught in that old
trap of too much description. I yammered at the reader with too
much backstory. My opening scene should have been the third scene.
It established the main characters and gave the reader a better
idea of what the story was about. Instead, I went for artistic
impact. Number 2 was not having any of that.
Thank
you, Number 2. You were right. You might have been more generous,
but you know what? I'm glad you weren't. I wouldn't have paid
enough attention to a "nice job."
The
next day I gathered my strength and reread my entry. Same words,
but something had changed, like looking through a stereoscope.
You look and look and for a long time you see two copies of the
same picture. All of a sudden your focus shifts and there it is,
a three-dimensional scene.
The
judges' comments gave me that shift in focus. I'm not going to
stop writing. I'm a three-dimensional writer. I can fall in love
with my characters, pour myself into the story, and then step
back and acknowledge what's wrong with it. My old book needs work.
I have grown as a writer since that first effort. I'm excited
about tearing it apart and making it better.
Maybe
next year I'll resubmit the first chapters of this book. I hope
I get the same set of judges. Number 1 gave me encouragement.
Number 2 sliced at the entry objectively. I almost hope Number
2 is in a bad mood again. Well, maybe not, but even if she is,
she'll be reading a better entry.
--
Laura
Armstrong, between duties as the computer department for a trade
association, Washington Romance Writers webmistress, and the usual
wife-and-mother gig, writes (and rewrites) romance novels.
