Posted in Marketing, Promotion, Publishing, The Writing Path, Webinars

Webinars…Maybe I’m Catching up with the Millenium

Can you see me? Feebly waving an arm at you all, while I prop myself up against the wall? No, it’s not that bad! 🙂

I’m just being silly. I feel pretty great, actually, because I just sent the first (of two) chunks of The Critiquer’s Survival Guide off to my editor at Writer’s Digest. Happy Dance! But, yes, it’s a bit of a wimpy Happy Dance, because I am feeling just a tad brain fried. I was on deadline without any problem, but I did hit that adrenaline high that comes along with any “Do it NOW!” kind of focus. And I did stay up just a tiny bit late a night or two along the way.

So you’re not getting much of a blog today, but I did want to point you over to Jane Friedman’s post from last Tuesday. She’s talking about the series of “Webinars” that Writer’s Digest is starting this year. She lists the ones that are coming soon and gives a brief description of what you can do if you sign up for one.

This is the one I liked:

  • “Ask the presenter questions in real time”

Why am I interested, you ask? Besides the fact that these sound very cool? Well, because the current plan is for ME to do one of these webinars for the critique book. I’LL be the presenter that people can talk to. VERY exciting. Me, who has only been out of the morass of dial-up connectivity for a few months!

Anyway, check them out. I’ll be thinking and planning about all this, after I finish writing.

Posted in Critique Groups, Critiquing, Revising

Receiving a Critique: What Can YOU Do?

There are two sides to every coin and, almost always, to every situation. This rule applies very well to critique groups.  I’ve always known this, but it’s hitting home again as I work on The Critiquer’s Survival Guide. (Half the book is heading to the editor this week–three cheers!)
I hear a lot of stories about writers worried about how they’ll feel when they get critiqued. Either they’ve had a bad experience in a critique group, or they’re worried about heading into one.  I discuss these situations in my book, and I’m sure I’ll blog about them here.
Today, though, it’s another post. And this one is going to talk about our responsibilities when we arebeing critiqued. Everybody in a critique group trades roles back and forth, and each role–even that of critiquee–has a few tasks that go with it.
When you are being critiqued, you need to:
  • Listen
    You’ve all heard the duct-tape threat; it will be used on any writer who interrupts, defends, or argues in response to a critique. I don’t go QUITE that far. It is important, though, to give the critiquer the same respect (by listening & taking notes) that they have given to reading your work and writing out their feedback.
  • Ask questions.
    I know. I just said not to interrupt, and I’m sticking to that. Write the question down and wait until the critiquers are done talking. You might hear the answer you need, without having to ask. And if you’re truly confused, raise your hand. Ask and be answered, then go back to step 1–listening.
  • Think
    Spend time with the feedback you get and consider each point. Yes, you know your project very well, but you don’t know it perfectly. Fresh eyes, from a strong reader, can provide a solution to the problem you’ve been wrestling with or send your project in a new, brilliant direction. Just because an idea doesn’t resonate with you the first time you hear it, take note and give that idea full consideration when you go over the critique.
  • Revise.
    I know. Of course, revise. But with the critique pages at your side. Look at each comment your critiquers have made and mentally lay that comment aside your project. Does it have validity? Will it improve the writing or the overall book? Is it possible, even if the critiquer’s feedback seems off, that the passage they pointed to is having a problem? And really, really analyze the big critique elements–plot, character, structure, voice. This is what you’ve asked your critique partners to do: dig deep into your project and help you see the best vision for it. You asked, they gave. Now use it.

Yes, of course, my list assumes that you are working with supportive, encouraging, and skilled critiquers. That’s my wish for you, and that’s a big goal you should be shooting for.  You should also, though, be remembering your part of the whole, and making sure you’re shouldering that commitment.

Posted in Deadlines

Deadlines–Big & Small

I met a deadline yesterday. I sent a chunk of chapters, the first big set from The Critiquer’s Survival Guide, off to my own critique group. (Yes, I really do practice what I preach!) I had checked with them ahead of time and found out they were okay with reading these pages over the T’giving holiday. I knew I wouldn’t get much writing done myself, with traveling and school being out, so this was great news. I told them I’d get them the files by Tuesday noon.

But…yesterday was Sunday.

Yep. I HATE deadlines. I have, ever since college, when I found out how much I stressed when papers were due or tests were looming. Way back then, I had friends who thrived on those last-minute all-nighters; they just sent me into a world of headaches and sore stomachs. So I learned a way to deal with those deadlines.

I set my own. Early. After the first year of school, I had every paper finished at least 24 hours ahead of time, and studied hard enough for tests to be able to put the books away just when a lot of other kids were pulling theirs out.

I still use this trick. Sure I still end up running on adrenaline for a while. I still have to push myself to add more hours, stick with it, get the work done. It’s just a mind game I play with myself. Except…this mind game has some real pluses.

Here’s what happens when I set (and meet) my own deadlines:

  • I end up with free time. There’s always another project waiting, more work to be done. If you don’t finish until the last minute, you often have no choice but to leap right back into the fray.
  • I use this free time to reward myself. Remember free2cr8’s Rewardathon Box? Today, I spent extra time on the treadmill, then relaxed with a book for a while. I’m sitting quietly in a quiet house, sipping my tea. I’ll probably do the dishes SOMETIME today, but I’m not rushing there, I can tell you that. And I won’t have to rush when I DO get to them.
  • I get to recharge. As much as we love writing, we can’t do it day in and day out without a breather. At least I can’t. Not for hours at a time. We have to let our finger, eyes, and brains relax. For a little bit.
  • I get to look at my project from a little further out. I know where I’m going next on this book, but I need some time to let it simmer. If I had to jump back in NOW, I’d write garbage and spend more time deleting paragraphs than producing them. I barely have to think about what’s coming; I just have to NOT think about what’s just gone. For a day. My brain will do the rest.

The Tuesday deadline was self-imposed, but it was real. If I didn’t get the files finished by then, it wouldn’t happen until after Thanksgiving. And the big deadline for this book doesn’t really leave me that kind of leeway. So, yes, Tuesday counted. And if I’d waited for them, I’d have found myself clicking Send, then spinning in a quick whirlwind, doing a complete 180 and spiraling instantly into laundry, packing, cooking, and cleaning for the holiday.

No break. No reward.

If you’re writing fiction, this technique works, too. You may or may not have an official deadline for a novel, for a draft, but you can set them up for yourselves. Look ahead on the calendar. What’s coming–say, in December. What do you want to have done by the time school lets out, or its time to wrap presents for whichever holiday you might celebrate? Now–what if you push that deadline back, just a day or two? You’ll have quiet time, for yourself, before those wonderful children are with you 24/7. You’ll have time to finish that book you’ve been reading, time to putter around the house with your music on, time to let your brain chill.

And something that can be done in twenty-one days can, I very much believe, be done in nineteen.

Like I said, it’s a mind game. And I know that there are times when the game is not possible–when the workload is too big and the timeline is too short.

But if you get a chance, give the game a try. Remember, you’re the one making the rules.

How do you handle deadlines, official or otherwise? What tricks do you play on your brain to make it happen?