Original

I had an incredible ah-ha writing moment yesterday.

You see, I had agreed to judge a writing contest--a fellow blogger over at Teen Fiction Cafe asked me to for the chapter of her RWA. Necessarily, then, I was reading one "first chapter" after another. When you read this way, I think it's a lot easier to notice flaws. It's also a lot easier to notice one that stands out because you're disappointed when the chapter ends. And it's a lot easier to mentally make comparisons between writers. Now I at least understand why some agents, and RWA chapters, and blog sites have contests for first paragraphs or first pages or whatever.

I was given a score sheet, and after I finished each first chapter, I had to score 20 different areas on a scale of 1-5 and then tally. Surprisingly (to me at least) the winner that emerged wasn't the one I would have kept reading--because it's not the type of book I would pick personally. But that actually showed me that I was being objective (as objective as possible given, of course, that I am a subjective human being, as we all are). If I had to give the authors a score of 1-5 on, say "Is the premise sufficient to sustain the length of the book?" and 19 other areas, and the author who won consistently scored higher even if it's not something I would read, then "objectively" (or at least as objectively as "judging" writers can be) she won.

But my real ah-ha moment was in understanding why so many writers with SUCH fierce talent struggle to get published. Because in some entries, I as an editor could see "Wow . . . talent!" The voice was there, it was polished, the details were vivid, the dialogue funny. But though the characters were engaging, they were just another variation on a thousand books before it--the city girl out of place in the country, the bad boy on a motorcycle, the Jane Austen-esque historical, the Manolo-clad heroine, the mother too busy for her own daughter, the . . . You get the idea.

Now bear with me for the ah-ha. Contest judging is VERY MUCH like being an editor or agent. Think about it. While you MIGHT read an entire book, most of the time, you are giving a writer two or three chapters--maybe even just one--to engage you. So necessarily, you, or your assistant, are reading first chapters after first chapters looking--and hoping--for the one that makes you tingle. The one that makes you pause--THIS is original, this is FRESH, this is high-concept.

We all know everything's been done before. But the task is to make your "what's been done before" sound totally original.

I talked to my new editor yesterday. I am SO excited about my new deal--a spring 2009 release. And I can tell you . . . in all honesty, you have NEVER heard of a story like this before. Yeah, there are a couple of familiar things. A distant father, for example. But nothing like it that I've ver heard of. And that made me excited, and I can't wait to announce it.

And so, I get it. Why you have to approach editors with something new. I saw talent in the contest, I really, really did. But to compete, you need something original. This is something we all need to keep in mind. Because as we compete in the greatest "First Chapter" contest ever--trying to get published--the competition is fierce.

Thoughts?

When Subtle Won't Work

Had some face time with editors this week. (Thus my spotty blogging.) Here's something to keep in mind.

I think writing should be subtle. Heavy-handed isn't my typical choice in what I read, and it's not, I hope, what I write. I think my writing has gotten more subtle as the years go on. For instance, there is symbolism in all my books (and if you go back and search for past posts on symbolism, you'll see the discussions of that), but if the reader doesn't "get" the symbolism because it's subtle, that's okay because the book still works with or without it.

I always advocate show don't tell. That's where being subtle is important . . . the nuances and quirks and "whispers" of a character that let us know what's important.

But when it comes to pitching your book, subtle won't work. Here's why. One editor told me this week that she was amazed at how many ideas I can come up with. Different ideas. Ideas that over lunch sound like unique concepts. Not like every other book. (Example? In Freudian Slip--November '08!!--a recovering heroin addict in a coma is assigned a cosmic social worker case of a woman who is grieving as the anniversay of 9/11 approaches, and along the way the heroin addict is helped in his mission by a heavenly Albert Einstein, who has an affinity for electronics and PowerPoint . . . and God, who is a woman with an inability to handle the music of ABBA, so when angels and demons wish to carry on private discussions, they head to Greenwich Village to a certain bar where the jukebox only plays ABBA and the bar remains neutral turf . . . I could go on, but you get the idea this is off the wall . . . a love story with quirks galore.)

Another editor said, "I am so tired of the same-old, same-old." In romance or chick lit, that includes the runaway bride, the bridezilla, the woman whose had loss and must start to date all over again, the woman dating the younger man, etc. In mysteries, the cop-turned-detective. The private investigator without a license who does it because of x or y. You get the idea. When my agent has things turned down, one of the most common reasons editors give is . . . "I'm afraid though the writing is excellent, this book/character won't stand out in the overcrowded detective genre/romance genre/paranormal genre, etc.."

And you can tell yourself or tell an editor, "Mine is different BECAUSE . . ." and fill in the blank. I've seen one overconfident blogger believe HER runaway bride unsold novel is different because SHE'S a great writer and everything that's come before her has been poorly written. But in the end . . . you aren't just pitching to an agent. Or an editor. If an agent takes it on, and you are fortunate enough that an editor adores it (and we're talking both of those things being tough in and of themselves), the editor still has to pitch it to committee (another hurdle). And then, if all the stars are aligned, it has to be pitched to the marketing team and publicity departments. Then B&N and the chains so they determine how many copies to order. Then it gets reviewed and it means reviewers have to describe why your book is different in the overcrowded genre. And so on.

The reason it seems like books with a hook get published is precisely those odds.

So you gotta hook 'em.

Thoughts?