Jeffe’s Favorite Love Interest

It’s been a tumultuous week in my world, so I missed posting on Wednesday, my usual day. Fortunately, I’m able to catch up today!

For those who don’t listen to my podcast or otherwise follow me on social media, this week a good friend came to visit bearing a life-changing gift. Mary Robinette Kowal, fabulous author and even better friend (which is saying something), spent a week here with us in Santa Fe. Like my husband, David, her mom had Parkinson’s Disease and, now that her mom passed away, Mary Robinette brought us her mom’s stability service dog, Captain. She spent the week teaching David (and me) how to work with Captain and helping us all assimilate to a new phase of life. It was a surprising amount of work and emotionally exhausting in a way I didn’t predict. But things are smoothing out now and we’re so grateful for this tremendous gift.

Our actual topic at the SFF Seven this week is our favorite hero that we didn’t write. The other contributors have offered terrific, thoughtful takes on their favorite, with a satisfying range of genders/inclinations, romance and otherwise. That gives me room to go super-traditional with my alpha-male, cis-het favorite: Roarke, from J.D. Robb’s In Death books.

Roarke has been my favorite since the first book, Naked in Death, came out in 1995 and he continues to thrill me today. Yes, I absolutely read the latest in the series, book #57, Payback in Death, the moment it released earlier this month. Yes, I’ve read the entire series and re-read it, more than once. (Though, to be fair, there were only 40-odd books when I did my most recent re-read.)

Roarke is the love interest I wish I’d written. He’s the perfect combination of powerful and sensitive. With a traumatic background, he’s a reformed bad boy who hits all my buttons. Sexy, charming, wealthy, nurturing – he’s the perfect man. My first and enduring fictional love.

My Cringeworthy First Writing Efforts

A praying mantis friend found her way onto my skirt the other day. Just one of many special blessings coming my way lately!

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is the most unpublishable niche story we ever wrote.

Mine isn’t necessarily a niche story – although it was of indistinguishable genre – but it was absolutely unpublishable and totally, as KAK puts it, cringe. In truth, it’s because I can’t think of this piece without that soul-deep cringe, that it springs to mind here. It wasn’t even worthy of the word “story,” it was that terrible.

See, I’d decided to become a writer. I’d cut bait on my PhD, got my MS, got a job as an editor/writer to build my chops, and was taking night classes to learn. But I hadn’t gotten very good at the actual WRITING part. As in, I had no writing habit, I hadn’t finished much of anything, and I was pretty much just farting around. Then I heard on the radio that Wyoming Arts Council (I lived in Wyoming at the time) was offering fellowships in literature. They had a rotating schedule between fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. I could either submit something for that year’s award or wait three years. Since three years seemed like an impossibly long time then, I was determined to enter the competition that year.

Only I didn’t have anything much to submit. But! I decided that I could enter the first few pages of a novel I’d started – the only pages I had of it – and trust that the judges would be so dazzled by the sheer promise of my work that they’d fall all over themselves to give me the fellowship.

Cringe cringe cringe

I have no idea what those judges thought of my fragmented pages of nothing. I obviously didn’t win, nor did I receive any comments. Only much later did I realize just how delusionary I’d been.

But you know what? Many years later, I did win one of those fellowships. It just took time, lots of dedicated work, and pulling my head out of my delusions.

 

Stop Waiting for Inspiration

Barnes & Noble is offering 25% on preorders for the next 3 days, so if you read on Nook and want a great discount on TWISTED MAGIC, go to B&N and use PREORDER25.

This week at the SFF Seven, we’re talking how to find inspiration when the story won’t come to you.

Did you know the word “inspiration” comes from the Latin inspirare, which means “to breathe into”? Same root as the English word for respiration and other, similar, breathing-related words. It refers to the sense of the divine breathing life into us.

The way creatives use “inspiration,” we usually mean it the way this topic is phrased – that we’re waiting for that divine breath, waiting for that story to come to us.

Stop waiting.

As a creative, YOU are the divine and the story is your creation. Did the gods wait for lifeless clay creatures to somehow totter up to them, requesting the breath of life?

No.

Similarly, those stories are not going to come to you. You must reach out and seize the clay, shape it into what you want it to be, and then for YOU to be the inspiration, to breathe life into the new work.

I know this isn’t the advice you wanted to hear. This isn’t easy. But then, being a Creator never is.

Best Laid Plans and Magical News!

I had Plans for today’s blog post here at the SFF Seven. But we know what the poet said about best-laid plans…

Yes, my day has gang agley.

All in a good way, though. I got a lot done. Important stuff, just not quite the several steps required to post what I hoped to post today. So the short and dirty update is:

  • TWISTED MAGIC will have a release date and preorder link soon!! (Though you can already preorder it on my website.)
  • Of my new book that I’ve been writing, the one I wasn’t supposed to be writing, but that insisted on being written, which I’ve been calling ONEIRA, Agent Sarah said: “You’ve crafted your very own fairytale, Jeffe and it’s magic.”
  • We strategized today, so look for more news on ONEIRA soon! And on TWISTED MAGIC!

 

 

Three Traits of Jeffe’s Kind of Male Protagonist

I’m teaching a worldbuilding master class in Portland, Oregon on August 4, if you’re in the area or want to be! Check out the Willamette Writers Conference here.

This week at the SFF Seven, we’re talking about writing male protagonists and how to avoid creating an “alphahole.” For those not in the know, an alphahole is an ostensibly alpha male who is actually an asshole, or is perceived as an asshole by the reader. This is a more complex issue than it seems on the surface. The alpha male hero is a popular trope, particularly in Romance, but in other genres, too. The alpha male is a leader, bold, confident, a protector. In some ways, he is often the idealized male. Some readers don’t like this trope or have greater sensitivity to certain aspects of the typical characterizations.

I tend not to take this too seriously. Personally, I like my alpha male heroes like I like my fiction: no relationship to reality required.

That said, I don’t really write alpha males very often, largely because my books almost always center the female protagonist and her journey to complete the quest, etc. The classic alpha male hero doesn’t intersect well with that kind of arc. Though I do love to have two strong, determined leaders butt heads and find common ground in love, learning to lead together.

Three traits of a guy like that?

  1. Enough self-confidence not to be threatened by a competent woman.
  2. Secure in his masculinity so he doesn’t need to “prove” it to anyone.
  3. Integrity and compassion that allow him to adhere to his principles and lead with care for his followers.

Writing Emotion and Owning Your Process

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is writing emotion and whether you as the author have to feel the exact emotion you’re writing.

There’s this tale about acting that’s been making the rounds for ages – it’s possibly apocryphal – about Dustin Hoffman being a method actor. That method asks actors to find the emotions within themselves to play the character, to find essentially their alternate self who would be that person and feel that way. The story goes that Hoffman spent an hour getting into that character’s skin and Sir Laurence Olivier strolled in, did his bit, and left again, saying, “My dear boy, it’s called acting.”

The point of this (again, possibly apocryphal) tale is twofold: the first that you can create the appearance of emotion without feeling it, and the second that everyone does things their own way.

You all should know by now that my primary mantra is this: figure out what your process is and own it.

People like that story because they can smirk at poor Dustin Hoffman doing things the American way, the overly-complicated way, the fancy way, but… is he wrong? Hoffman has an amazing acting career. He’s widely acknowledged as a brilliant actor. Clearly his approach isn’t “wrong.”

Is Olivier wrong in this story? Clearly not, for the same reasons as above. There is no wrong. There is no right. Both things can be true. Both processes work for those performers.

So, do I have to feel the emotion I’m writing in order to put it on the page? Nope. Do I sometimes? Sure, though it depends. Do other writers need to feel the emotion to write it? I’ve heard they do.

And it’s all good. Both things can be true.

 

Trusting the Creative Process

Happy Summer Solstice, all!

This week at the SFF Seven, we’re talking about our greatest writing challenge and how we manage it.

In some ways, this is a moving target for me, because it seems that – like clockwork – each book presents its own challenge. With 64 published titles under my belt, I feel like I should have this process down and there shouldn’t be surprises.

No such luck.

What I have to constantly remind myself is that the creative process is its own creature. It’s this connection to something beyond ourselves and thus is not within our control. Particularly for a writer like myself – I am incapable of pre-plotting and write for discovery, relying entirely on intuition – letting go of that desire to control is critical. It can also be difficult, especially when I’m trying to write to a particular idea or market.

For example, I recently wrote one-hundred pages of a book for my agent, according to a very particular comp. Let’s call it Ghost meets Out of Africa. (That is NOT it, but that’s one of my all-time favorite fictional comps. Points if you can name the movie it’s from.) In thinking about this project, I consulted my friend, Melinda Snodgrass, incredibly talented novelist and screenwriter who counts among her credits the Star Trek: Next Generation episode The Measure of a Man. I asked her how closely I should follow the beats of Ghost, if at all. She gave me an incredulous look and asked why, when I had a hugely successful story blueprint right there, I would do anything but follow those beats?

So, I tried.

Turns out that, not only am I incapable of pre-plotting, I also can’t follow an outline to save my life. I struggled to write that book. Having the story laid out in essence should have made it easier. Instead it made it 1,000x worse. For me. Because that’s not my process. Once I abandoned that outline (sorry, Melinda) and followed my intuition, the words began flowing.

That’s the major challenge for me: remembering to trust the process. Particulars change with every book. This principle endures.

Pinch Points: WTF Are They??

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is: Pinch Points or small turning points. We’re asking each other if we plan them, use them as foreshadowing, or just let the story flow?

So, I read KAK’s excellent post from yesterday explaining WTF “Pinch Points” are and how she uses them. Spoiler: yes, she plans them out.

Cannot possibly be a spoiler for anyone who knows anything about me: No, I plan them, I might use them?

YES, I LET THE STORY FLOW.

I swear, I need to start adding topics like “when you’re intuitively letting the story flow, how do you…. ” Except then I get stuck because there’s just not a whole hell of a lot to say about writing intuitively. Yep, here I am, letting things flow. Still flowing. How will it end? I have no idea!

LOL.

Amusingly enough, however, what KAK explained in her detailed analytical post is pretty much the exact scene I wrote yesterday in my current manuscript: ONEIRA.

(If you haven’t been following the podcast, ONEIRA is a Totally New Thing – new world, new magic system, unrelated to anything I’ve written so far. I’ve been calling it the book I’m not supposed to be writing – it fell on me from out of the sky and insisted on being written – but all of my friends have finally convinced me that clearly I am supposed to be writing it, so I’m trying not to say that anymore.)

It’s almost eerie, how the scene I wrote yesterday matches exactly what KAK says the pinch point with the villain is supposed to do. But I didn’t plan it at all. In fact, this scene introduced a new POV character and a new plot element, totally unexpected. But this is how I write and how I write this book in particular. It’s insisting on doing all sorts of things that I haven’t done before and don’t expect and I’ve just surrendered and am going with it. Which actually makes this project really fun, because I’m just letting it be whatever it is and not worrying about reader expectations or where it will fit in the marketplace.

All of this is to say that we all have our own process. My mantra: figure out what your process is and own it.

KAK loves to geek out on analysis, minutely controlling her stories down to pinches.

My stories just go their own way and I try to cling to the saddle.

It’s all good.

(Except sometimes I end up writing something I’m not supposed to be writing….)

Chapters and Scenes: Determining How Long They Should Be


This week at the SFF Seven, we’re talking about Managing Word Count. Do we rewrite to hit a certain number? Do we have a chapter/scene word allotment?

So, a lot of you know that one of my nicknames is the Meticulous Volcano. This comes from me being born on the Leo/Virgo cusp, which a friend informed me makes me a meticulous volcano and they’re not wrong. I really am half and half – and this shows up in many ways. Yes, I have the passionate Leo nature, but I’m also the detail-oriented lover of spreadsheets. In my writing, this manifests in my total, far-end gardener/pantser/write for discovery process, which I track down to the tiniest detail, with charts.

Do I have a chapter/scene word allotment? Yes, I do. It varies from book to book – something I land on intuitively – with some books and series running to longer chapters and some to shorter. The shortest chapters, which creates a brisker pace, are generally about 6-7 pages long, or about 1,700 words. Longer chapters give a more epic feel, a more luxurious pace, and can be as long as 23 pages (my record) and about 7K words long. On average, however, I keep longer chapters to around 16 pages or 4,500 words.

For scenes, I follow the 3-Act 8-scene structure, which looks like this:

Act 1 Scene 1 12.5% Initial set-up, establishing shot, life before
Act 1 climax Scene 2 25.0% All stakes are set
Act 2 Scene 3 37.5%
Midpoint Scene 4 50.0% Midpoint pivot
Scene 5 62.5%
Act 2 climax Scene 6 75.0% All is lost
Scene 7 87.5% often the same as Act III climax
Act 3 climax 90.0% Final climax
Scene 8 100.0% Denouement, life after

Mostly I use this structure as a series of guideposts, to know where I am as I write the book, which is always linear, from beginning to end. And this helps me to predict when I’ll finish. Once I have Scene 1 complete, I can predict the final word count (8 times the word count of Scene 1). This number is solidified once I have Act 1 in place. Generally my books are 85K – 120K words long, so how long the individual segments are varies from about 11K to 15K words.

In truth, “segment” is probably a better word than “scene,” as applies to my novels. This structure is from screenwriting, so scenes can be more or less a single sequence. For me, a scene in this context is a contiguous segment of the story, one where a particular mini-arc is begun and completed.

As for rewriting to tighten the shape? Sometimes I do that. Usually not. I often worry that some segment will bulge out and need trimming, but it usually is fine by the end. Sometimes I break up chapters or trim parts that go on too long. Mostly I let the numbers be a loose guideline and I decided intuitively how to edit.

 

Analyzing Genre Expectations

I just returned from WisCon, which was a delightful, warm, sort-of summer-camp version of a con. I had a great time. I also got to visit the farmer’s market and get a wonderful jump start on spring.

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is: How to analyze genre expectations for your genre.

You know, I have one answer to this question, which is pretty much the same as what KAK said yesterday: READ.

I feel like people are often looking for the shortcuts in this business. And certainly there are the shovel-salesmen eager to sell the gold-miners the newest-fangled device that will make their job SO MUCH EASIER. So, sure – there are tools and surveys out there that purport to analyze trends and bullet-point the expectations of the hot genres.

But nothing substitutes for reading. And reading what’s current, as well as the canon the new stuff builds upon. Genre and the expectations readers bring to their reading are fluid and ever changing. I once advised an aspiring author – a woman who’d been very well published 20 years before, had a life-lull, and was looking to get back into it – who hadn’t read anything published in her genre in the last couple of decades. She couldn’t understand the feedback she was getting from agents and editors because her reading lens was calibrated to what amounted to ancient history genre-wise.

Also, reading refills the creative well. All writers begin as readers first. (At least, I hope so. A writer who doesn’t love reading seems to me like a fish who swims but doesn’t like water.) If you don’t have time to read, make the time. Replace watching shows or scrolling on your phone with READING. You don’t have to finish everything you read (I certainly don’t), but you should read at least some of what’s popular and what your readers are reading.

Did I mention read? Yeah: do that.