First, recognize that you probably don't know what the hell you're doing, and go find out. I worked on my novel for a year or two before I took my first class at the Iowa Summer Writing Festival. No experience is wasted, but I didn't know how much I didn't know until I went to Iowa. I didn't even understand the course descriptions. "Story Arc?" "Types of Dialogue?" "Structure of a Scene?"
No idea.
Every summer I'd come back with new bullets in my gun, and I'd have to start my novel over. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but just a bit. Now I'm totally OCD about point of view--I learned how to switch POV, and when it's appropriate to do so, but it drives me insane when a writer gets sloppy about whose eyes we're looking through.
The other smart thing I finally did was start reading more fiction. Actually, I listen, rather than read. If Audible.com ever goes away, I'll go with it. Listening to books and realizing that I was impatient with glib, cute dialogue forced me to stop writing glib, cute dialogue. One of my best instructors persuaded me that I had a literary streak, and I needed to use it. So over the last couple of years, as I've edited Revenge, I've tried to make the characters more real, more flawed, and less clever. I like books that combine genre with literary writing, so that I can believe in the characters and not just read about their adventures.
That's enough for now. I don't read long, boring blogs.
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
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