I really like writing books but there’s one part I hate. And it sneaks up on me every time.
After having several books published, you’d think I’d learn. But nope, there seems to be a big blank spot in my memory about writing a nonfiction book.
It’s an ugly, nasty, teeth-gnashing phase so no wonder I forget it. In fact, the only time I think about it, is when I’m right in the middle of it. Which is where I am right now.
I refer to it as the @#$*! stage of writing a book. Some folks call it the first draft.
No, this isn’t me. But this is how I often feel when I’m in the @#&%! stage of writing a book.
This is where I have to take all my research and put it into some sort of cohesive order. That means deciding what goes in what chapter – and worst of all – deciding what’s included and what gets left out.
I know from past experience that intriguing facts and fascinating anecdotes will be cut due to the constraints of space and in the interests of flow. I can deal with that. It’s just all the decisions I need to make right now. Hours are spent staring at the computer screen, shifting text here and there and muttering away. By the end of the day I swear my brain is sweating.
Sometimes I think of this stage of a book like going for a long walk in a forest. There are many trails to take, each offering different experiences, some more exciting or challenging than others.
On rough days I liken it to climbing a rock face. Concentrating and knowing where to put my feet and hands (or facts and anecdotes) is critical. At times the top of the mountain seems impossibly far away.
Once in a while I wonder why the heck I’m doing this. But a glance down tells me I’m closer to the top than the bottom. And I know when I reach the summit, I’ll forget all about the @#$*! stage of writing a book again.
So I keep climbing. Writing my book one chapter, one paragraph, one word at a time.
So here I was — proud as a new parent — with a finished manuscript in a tidy stack on my desk. Virginal white paper, appropriate font, neat margins, properly paginated and oh so vulnerable.
But now I faced that big jump from personal writing to potential exposure to the whole wide world. And, like many a new parent, I wondered how this baby of mine would ever walk on its own.
To take that first step the old school method says to look for publishers who specialize in your particular genre — fiction, poetry, memoir or essay — and write a letter of inquiry hoping that one of them will be interested and request a sample chapter or two which may then lead to a contract. Ah, hope, the writers favourite drug.
When I was through the second draft of The Four Storey Forest I did just that — found publishers who promoted West Coast and Vancouver Island writers. I sent out letters of inquiry and anxiously walked to the mailbox every day in anticipation. Out of the ten letters I wrote, I got not one response.
Refusing to be discouraged, I carried on re-writing, searching for a publisher and following suggestions from published authors.
Simultaneously, I began exploring the world of self-publishing. I was leery of this due to the stigma associated with the term “vanity press” and the pure drivel it often spawns. I thought if my writing made it through the scrutiny of a publisher, it would surely be better. I learned there are editorial contributions and there is publishing and while I thought the two were inextricable, they are not!
Nearing what I thought was a completed book, I sought out freelance editors. You get what you pay for so I’d advise anyone taking this route to shop around and check references thoroughly. My first “editor” seemed a little too interested in signing me up for production services as he heaped unearned praise on my raw and truly un-publishable work.
At the same time, I looked into self-publishing. Two sources of good information were the Vancouver Desktop Publishing Centre and Printorium Bookworks. The first is connected with the wonderful magazine Geist, which is a great read in itself. The second is a print shop that has an excellent how-to guide for self-publishing. However, I was not yet convinced.
In self-publishing, the author retains full responsibility for and control of content, cover design, and distribution/promotion. This obviously means a lot more work. It is an odd paradox; writing is a solitary anti-social act, yet merchandising the finished self-published work requires one to stand up and become a shameless hustler. Some can do this, others cannot.
Another factor is that many literary contests do not accept self-published books simply because of my original fear — so much dross on paper. Nor are self-published works eligible for the most of the few grants available.
So the choice is: sell your soul to a publishing house and in return for the pittance earned, gain professional editorial support and wider publicity, sales and distribution but relinquish a certain amount of income and control; or buy what proofreading and critiquing you need and opt for self-publishing, accepting the joys and sorrows it may bring.
There are many options for publishing a book these days.
For The Four Storey Forest I was fortunate enough to discover a third way. Through a network of other writers I found a Comox Valley “mom and pop” publishing company who had put out a few books of scholarly note and who were interested in branching out to niche markets with new writers.
So Poplar Publishing did the layout, final proofing, some editing and worked with the printer. The real nuts and bolts stuff. Collectively we created the cover design. Promotion and publicity are my responsibility as is shipping. My publisher has a web page with a PayPal service which means my book has an e‑life. My book baby has taken its first steps out into the world.
I recently started working on a novel, breathing life into the second draft of a manuscript that has been collecting dust for longer than I care to admit. However, it is still a good story and, when finished, I’ll go back to Poplar Publishing and hope they’ll take it on. There’s that word again. Hope.
Nobody writes perfect prose the first time around. Oh there might be a killer sentence or two but the work will still need editing. That’s what writing’s all about – getting that first draft down and then going back to rewrite and revise…again…and again…and again.
An editor is your ally, not your enemy. They’ll catch the typos, spelling mistakes and awkward sentences and let you know when a passage isn’t clear. They’ll point out repeated words, where you’ve used passive voice and the extraneous bits that need to be cut.
And they’ll nudge you in the right direction when it comes to focus, the concept of “less is more” and opening your piece with something that grabs the reader’s attention.
After I edited this page and gave it back to Rick he said, “Did you have time to really look at this? There isn’t much red ink!”
The first editor is you. It can be difficult to see the flaws in your work but the more you do it the better you’ll get. A good way to learn is by reading similar material with a critical eye. What works? What doesn’t? What makes you want to keep reading? What makes you yawn?
For me the editing process is largely intuitive. I know when something’s not working – not necessarily why – just that it’s not right. Maybe the words don’t flow, the way I’m explaining something is boring or the first paragraph needs to be moved to page three.
Be open to expressing your comments in a different way. Read your work out loud and look at it both on your computer screen and in print. Change, remove, rearrange – it’s all part of the process. Be ruthless, if you have a wonderful sentence, paragraph or chapter but it doesn’t belong in this book, save it for another story.
Eventually someone else needs to edit your writing. I’m lucky. Rick, my partner, is also a writer and we go over each other’s work on a regular basis. Sometimes when he returns a piece it seems like he’s marked it with miles of red ink. But I’m grateful for the feedback.
Although family and friends can be good editors, they’re probably not professional writers or editors. Sooner or later your work needs the skills of someone who understands the writing industry.
If you sign a book contract, most publishers will assign an editor. If you’re self-publishing or want to polish your work before submitting it, you’ll need to hire someone yourself.
Remember, your editor wants the same thing you do: for your book to be the best it can. Chances are, their suggestions will get rid of any glitches and strengthen the plot and narrative.
If you don’t agree with one of their comments, feel free to discuss the pros and cons of making a certain change. Editing is a collaborative process. And one that’s vital if you want your work to shine.
Okay, everyone knows that sitting for long periods of time isn’t good for you. Your bottom tends to get bigger and back pain often occurs over time. But I never knew sitting could kill me!
Yes, according to an article in the Mayo Clinic newsletter, prolonged sitting can increase a person’s risk of health problems and premature death from cardiovascular disease.
One study revealed that adults who sat in front of the TV for more than four hours a day had an 80 percent increased risk of death from heart disease and stroke than those who watched less than two hours of TV a day.
And it’s not just TV. Any bouts of extended sitting; be they in front of a computer, at a desk or driving a vehicle increases the risk. Another shocker – apparently going to the gym after work doesn’t magically erase those harmful hours of being on your duff.
So what to do?
“The solution,” according to Dr. James Levine, “seems to be less sitting and more moving. Simply by standing, you burn three times as many calories as you do sitting. Muscle contractions, including the ones required for standing, seem to trigger important processes related to the breakdown of fats and sugars. When you sit down, muscle contractions cease and these processes stall.”
Now I have considered altering my work station so I could type sitting down or standing up. In fact, I know an artist who has an adjustable easel for just that purpose.
But then I discovered a cool video on the Mayo Clinic website.
In it, Dr. James Levine, a Mayo Clinic researcher, says that people are built to walk. He’s studying the benefits of treadmill desks, which allow people to walk while they work.
“What we’ve ended up with are vertical desks that can be personalized for the individual user,” he explains. “They can be used while walking on a treadmill, they can be used while standing still, they can be used while seated.”
Now this is an intriguing idea. I could work, reduce my risk of cardiovascular disease and maybe shed a few pounds all at the same time. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.
Now I wonder just how much one of those a treadmill desks costs? And if I could actually type while walking?
On rough days I liken it to climbing a rock face. Concentrating and knowing where to put my feet and hands (or facts and anecdotes) is critical. At times the top of the mountain seems impossibly far away.
