• 7 Random Distractions to Keep You From Noticing There’s No Real Content In This Post

    All indications are that it’s Friday. And apparently, it’s a holiday weekend, too, though I didn’t realize this until my fictional next door neighbor started setting off fireworks in his driveway. I think it’s some sort of holiday to celebrate man’s dominion over dogs. I didn’t verify this in the “current holiday we just made up” section at the Hallmark store, but previous experience and the ain’t-that-cute tweets of complete strangers on Twitter give me reason to believe July 4th is known as “Make Your Dog Cower Under Your Desk” Day. I could be wrong about that. I don’t have a dog. So, in honor of this fine holiday, I’m…

  • Finally, the Post About Novels and Love Stories

    So here we are. Last Friday I made a rather bold claim – that all novels are love stories. Since then, a few of you have chimed in with opinions and ponderable things relating to my claim. Headless Mom (gotta love that name) wrote: One could argue that regardless of topic, all novels are love stories: the love between the author and his/her words, the author’s love of the story. Amber asked for examples. I’m interested to hear your thoughts. Let’s be simple. Like if there were a great children’s story about a doggy wanting a bone and how the doggie hunted for the bone, would the love story be…

  • All Novels Are Love Stories (But This Post Isn’t)

    I think it’s Monday. Is it? I had these great plans to write a clever post about how every novel is essentially a love story in disguise, but those plans got derailed by Real Life. So instead, I’m just going to offer this bit of writing advice (I’ll get to the “love story” post another day): Sometimes you just don’t have anything to say. I don’t mean “sometimes you don’t have anything of value to say.” I mean sometimes you just don’t have anything at all to say. When these times come, it’s not about writer’s block – it’s about being empty. There are lots of reasons for this, most…

  • What Your Editor Is Thinking

    Ever wonder what your friendly editor is really thinking when she emails or calls to talk about your manuscript? Here’s a handy-dandy guide to help you understand the deeper meaning behind her words.* *** When your editor says: “I really like the basic plot. Nicely done!” Your editor is thinking: “Okay, there are 90,000 words here, so that’s a start. And the story has characters and they do stuff. That’s a good thing, too. But whoa baby there’s a ton of work to do. I’m going to have some long nights with this puppy.” *** When your editor says: “I’m not sure the subplot about the missing orangutan is working…

  • The Law of Diminishing Returns

    Last week, literary agent and dispenser of great publishing wisdom Nathan Bransford invited his savvy blog readers to answer the question, “How Do You Know When Your Novel is Really Finished?” (If you haven’t already studied the many and diverse responses, click here to see what writers had to say.) As I consider my own novel-in-progress (I prefer the abbrev. n.i.p. over w.i.p., is that so wrong?), I can imagine I’ll still be editing and re-writing when the Hilton Lunar Resort and Golf Course opens on the moon. (I won’t be able to afford an Earth-view room, but since I’ll be spending most of my time in the Moonbucks coffee…

  • About Deadlines

    It’s late Sunday night and my plan to write a week’s worth of posts has been foiled by the usual assortment of weekend activities plus the addition of a time-suck we in the freelance editing world call “gettin’ paid.” For a freelancer, deadlines are no respecter of nights and weekends. I might be able to steal another day or three if I really thought it necessary, but depending on how tightly the book is scheduled through the rest of the publishing process, doing so could put the release date in jeopardy. (Okay, that’s a worst-case scenario, but keep in mind that the author may have already pushed for an additional…

  • Help Keep Stephen Off Prozac Writing Contest Extravaganza

    UPDATE: A big ‘thank you’ to all who have already entered the contest. Each one of you is brilliant and beautiful (and/or handsome) and deserves to win for your writing skill, apparent compassion and Santa-Yoda covetousness. Now, tell all your friends, okay? (Don’t worry, they’re not quite as talented as you are. No way they can win that Santa-Yoda. But by asking, you’ll make them feel special. And that’s a good thing.) I tend to get a little bit depressed sitting alone in my tiny garden-level apartment writing these blog posts, wondering if anyone out there in the Interworld cares about the blood, sweat and tears that I pretend to…