Rachel Starr Thomson

Parts 1, 2, and 3 of this series on how you can know when your writing is “good enough” for public consumption.

This question of objectivity applies in two ways: First, how do you know your writing in general is good enough to go out into the world and be read by others? Second, how do you know a particular piece of writing is good enough?

First things first: if you are strong enough as a writer to consistently put out quality work, then you can be fairly confident that your particular pieces of writing will pass muster. So how do you know you’ve become that strong?

We’ve already discussed things like developing an ear, learning technique, and getting an education. But all of this can only take you so far. When you really need to know whether you’ve “made it,” for me, the answer has been simple answer: Listen to what other people say. And most importantly, try to get published.

(I don’t remember where I first read/heard this, but it’s absolutely true. You will know you have reached that high mark as a writer when other people are willing to publish you. That doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll get your dream book contract. But when you can get into magazines or onto good websites, find acceptance in an anthology, or get hired to write a business letter, you’ll know you’ve reached “good enough.”)

It does matter whom you’re listening to. Mothers, God bless them, usually think their children should be raking in Pulitzer prizes even if that is not exactly true. Friends, siblings, and anyone with a vested interest in your life will have a harder time giving you objective feedback about your writing because they can’t separate your writing from YOU. For that reason, the best feedback usually comes from outside your usual circles.

If you want to be a writer, get involved in the community of writers that exists online and in the real world around you.

Professional editors and writing coaches can give critiques or other services, for a fee. Writing conferences offer workshops and other opportunities to get your work in front of people who know good writing from bad. But most forms of feedback are free:

Critique groups can be helpful, because the people in them are also getting an education, training their ears, learning technique, etc. They know the objective things to look for and can help you see what you can’t in your own writing. Most communities have a critique group meeting somewhere–or you could start one. Online forums can be a great place for reader response and advice. And blogging, networking online, and reviewing books can help get notice for your own writing as well.

And don’t forget publication. Keep putting your work out there, getting it rejected, revising your approach, and trying again. Eventually, you’ll cross over the other side, and you’ll know you’ve become a professional.

Of course, any comments on your abilities have to be taken with a grain of salt. People like to give opinions even if they don’t know what they’re talking about. (Sometimes they even speak out of jealousy.) And someone who hates your genre or topic isn’t likely to be charitable to your writing.

I really began networking online about six years ago. By now, I am convinced I can write. Editors, agents, bestselling and uber-talented writers, reviewers, readers, and publishers have all told me so. If nothing else, participation in community has shown me that I am a professional and I do have a right to take myself seriously as a writer.

As for knowing when a particular piece of writing is good enough . . .

Find some readers you really respect, people who are willing to tell you what they really think, and open yourself up to criticism. It will help if you will let it. Participate in a workshop or critique group. Or just start trying to get your work published. An acceptance letter will tell you all you need to know :).

P.S. There is a flip side to this whole thing: some really good writers don’t get published and don’t get recognition, for a few reasons. And some of us never believe our writing is ready, no matter what others say. But that is a different issue. Most of us really can use the opinions of others as an effective measuring stick when we’re trying to figure out where we’re at in our writing readiness.

Children’s author Patricia C. Wrede* has been blogging recently about what she calls “Lego Theory,” or the putting together of books from the very tiniest pieces–letters and words–to the largest. It’s excellent. Very rarely will you see writing advice that gets this down and detailed.

I define strong words as “the ones people pay more attention to.” They have more weight in the reader’s mind, and therefore make more of an impact. Since fiction is usually about making an impact on the reader, strength is probably the most important property and word, phrase, sentence, etc. can have.

What makes strength really useful, though, is that it isn’t an absolute property – it’s affected by a whole lot of other things that come along as words get strung together in different ways to make larger and larger units. This means that a writer can adjust the impact that a word or phrase or sentence has, by adjusting some of its other properties.

Read “The Lego Theory, Part II” here. Or check out her blog and read the whole series. I will be back with more thoughts on objectivity soon–but this was too good not to share!

* Many many years ago, I found a book called Dealing with Dragons at the local library. I read it, laughed over it, loved it, and walked around with it clutched to my chest. (I was very attached to my favourite books.) That book was the first in Ms. Wrede’s Enchanted Forest series. The fact that she is blogging now makes me feel that the modern world is encroaching too much on my childhood, but oh well.

In the ongoing discussion on becoming objective about your own writing (Part 1 is here; Part 2 is here), I’ve mentioned that it’s important to gain a working knowledge of technique. In other words, you need to become a student of your own craft. Most of us have seen thousands (if not millions) of automobiles in our lifetimes, yet I wouldn’t consider myself able to put together a Dodge Caravan. Yet, countless would-be writers believe they can write a book because they’ve read books, and surely, it can’t be that hard.

Now, you can probably write a book with far less training than it would take to put a minivan together. But in writing, there ARE rules, techniques, structures, approaches, and conventions, and if you want to be a writer, you should learn about them.

Fiction writers: What is POV? What are the different approaches to using it, with their strengths and weaknesses? What is a scene, and what is a summary? What scene structures tend to work best? Can you describe traditional three-act structure? What divides good dialogue from bad? How should you handle accents and dialects? What about flashbacks? Flash-forwards? Passive voice? Is your timeline linear or out-of-the-box?

Nonfiction writers: Can you write an outline? What’s your hook? Do you know how to research a topic? Have you thought through structure? Can you name other books on your subject? What tone is best for this project? Why? How much do you plan to explain concepts, and how much will you trust your readers to know? Is a heavily anecdotal approach best, or should you lean more on evidence?

If you don’t even know what I am talking about in the above two paragraphs, you need an education :). (Also, if you ever use the term “fiction novel.”) This is not hard to obtain, nor is it expensive. Most libraries have a section for writers. Writer’s Digest publishes hundreds of titles on everything from research to world-building to dialogue to plot. There are probably thousands of blogs by and for writers, including many by agents, editors, and working authors. Start reading.

If you have a bit more money and ability to travel, try attending a writer’s conference or two. These can be hugely educational.

Once you’re armed with some knowledge of technique, you’ll start recognizing various techniques when they’re used in books you’re reading. And then you can start to see how they do (or don’t) work, to understand what you do (or don’t) want to do.

(This isn’t about becoming slavish. In writing, you just have to learn the rules so you know how to break them well.)

And once you’ve started to recognize technique in the writing of other people, you’ll start to recognize it in yourself, too. You’ll know, to a much greater degree, when your dialogue is bad, your scenes are summaries, and your head-hopping is making people dizzy. You’ll be able to spot problems in structure, tone, or competition.

Weigh in, readers! I’m enjoying the discussion :).

This is Part 2 of a discussion on how you can know when your writing is good enough to unleash upon the world. Part 1 is here.

As you could probably tell from my brief overview of ways I go about evaluating my own writing, I don’t believe there’s a quick and easy way to become objective. But one thing does hold true: if you can tell the difference between good and bad writing in general, you’ll be better equipped to tell the difference in your own writing.

If you want to write, then, and especially if you plan to be published, you simply must familiarize yourself with really good writing. Read it. Listen to it. Read it out loud. Read it in lots of genres. Read poetry; read song lyrics. Read classics. Read nonfiction. Read things that stretch you. Pick up, through exposure, vocabulary, technique, structure, rhythm. Pick up the flow of an effective story, the way it builds and climaxes and falls.

(Since I know many of my readers are homeschoolers/homeschool grads, I want to add one thing to this: don’t just read fiction that is more than a century old. I love Austen and Dickens and the Brontes and Shakespeare as much as anyone else. Without question, much of the greatest literature in the English language came out of the Victorian era and earlier. But writing, as an art form, has come a long way since then. Readers have changed; the “rules” have changed. I see a lot of writing from homeschoolers that is, frankly, overwritten–and in its lines floats a distinctly Victorian perfume :). It’s true that many of the “modern classics” are books you won’t necessarily want to read, and that’s fine. But make sure you’re reading enough modern writing to become very familiar with the way literature has evolved.)

The goal in all of this is to train your own writerly ear. You want to become so familiar with great writing that bad writing grates on your ear, even if it’s your own. You want to be able to recognize cliches, hear bad rhythm, and know when you’re overwriting.

That is the broad background for knowing when your own work is good enough. Coming soon: nitty-grittier thoughts. In the meantime, I’d love to hear what you think about this.

Back when I posted “Mystory,” fellow self-published author Natalie Wickham asked a fantastic question in response. Here’s her comment:

Here is a question that might make for an interesting discussion. How do *you* know when your writing is good? I have received so many articles for editing that I look at and think, “Really? Do you really think this is well-written?” I suppose that’s why they have whole courses on how to become a good writer, but I just wonder if there are some key things that a writer could ask himself to objectively evaluate the quality of his writing. Do you have any specific questions you ask yourself? Or is it more intuitive for you?

As a writing coach, I’ve often found myself stepping in for parents who just aren’t confident in marking their children’s writing. The reason for that is that unlike math or even history or science, writing isn’t just a study; it’s an art and a craft. That means that any assessment of writing is going to rely on a certain amount of subjectivity–that is, we like some writing because we like it and dislike other writing because we dislike it. And you can’t get much more scientific than that!

With that being understood, it’s nevertheless true that some writing is objectively–well, if not “bad,” at least not very good. Almost anyone with the exception of the writer’s mother would agree. This usually means that the writer just doesn’t have the grasp of language or of basic writing techniques needed to craft good writing.

The tricky thing is that it’s almost impossible for us to be objective about our own writing, at least for the first good while after we’ve written it. And yes, this is true for me too.

Natalie asked, then, how I know when my own writing is good. The simple answer is that (a) I train my ear and (b) I use several objective yardsticks, including knowledge of technique, the opinions of other readers, and most importantly, the willingness of third parties to publish what I write :).

I can go into a lot more detail on that, so I think I will. Stick around for follow-up posts! And keep the questions coming.

Underneath your story lies structure, pacing, principles of storytelling that make a story work. Or not work. Writer’s Digest recently published a couple of articles that look at some of these things underneath. Both are perceptive and well worth reading.

Four Novel Story Structures examines four basic structures that are used in novels: the Milieu Story, the Character Story, the Idea Story, and the Event Story. This article was written by Big-Deal sci-fi writer Orson Scott Card. Read it.

4 Ways to Improve Narrative Drive is a little more nuts and bolts — but again, really worth reading. Sara Sheridan offers hugely practical advice like this:

3. The easiest way to improve narrative drive is to simplify your verbs as much as possible. In English we have a huge amount of tense formations and a high proportion of irregular verbs. It’s astoundingly easy to use three or four words where one will do. Keep it simple—make every word count. Stick to the simple present, past, and future where possible. If you can write in the present tense your prose will have especial immediacy.

Thoughts?

The scheduled release date for Coming Day (sometime in mid-November — I have a date but for several reasons am not making it public yet) is fast approaching, which means that ’tis the season for revisions. Yes, more of them. This book has gone through more revisions than any other book I’ve ever written with the possible exception of something called The Babel Chip (which in my opinion still needs work. But I digress — this post is not about The Babel Chip.)

When I sat down with Josh Gilman, my good buddy and esteemed beta reader, one of the things he told me was that Coming Day needs more quiet parts. I knew that, I think, but confirmation was good. I actually taught on this in a three-session workshop I did in my hometown earlier this month. Rises and falls are an essential part of a good plot.

Why is that? Well, in any good story, there is conflict. There is tension. This is good; it keeps readers turning pages. But if you never let readers come down and rest a while, they will become exhausted. They’ll also be prevented from getting to know your characters in an intimate way; we don’t get to know people when all we ever see them doing is running or yelling or bashing heads with big swords.

Frodo needs to be chased by Black Riders and battle wraiths and orcs and barrow-wights; but he also needs to get to Rivendell and Lothlorien, eat, sleep, behold beauty. He needs it, and readers need it.

So this week, as I revise Coming Day, I am attempting to add more fall to the rhythm of rise and fall. And I’m looking forward to getting to know my own characters better as I do.

Writer’s Digest has provided me with yet more great blog fodder: read Sage Cohen’s “Top 10 Productivity Pitfalls for Writers to Avoid” here. Sage has done a fantastic job of identifying real problems on a deeper scale than just “Don’t check Facebook 20 times a day” — including fear, transition turbulence, and shabby systems.

I could add a few of my own to the list:

1. Checking Facebook 20 times a day (otherwise known as “bad Internet habits”)

2. Working while dog-tired (I’m usually better off taking a nap or doing something else until my brain wakes up)

3.  Excessive multitasking (you only think you’re getting more done)

4. Lack of planning. I usually write my daily goals out the night before, and I pencil in a week or so at a time. If I don’t, I waste a lot of time trying to figure out what I should be doing.

How about you? What are some productivity pitfalls that try to get you — and/or strategies you’ve developed to avoid them?

This summer I’ve stepped out and started doing something I knew I should have been doing a long time ago: selling my books at live events. I already do this at Soli Deo Gloria Ballet productions, where we always have a product table afterward where we meet our audiences. And I did a homeschool conference in early 2009 that went well. But now I’m talking about going into live events purely for the cause of selling books.

There’s a writer’s group in a town about 45 minutes from me that sometimes teams up to do events, so this year I shared a booth with other local self-published writers at an arts fair and then again at a winery for a weekend-long community event. I’ve also done a local craft show. I’ve found the shows worth doing.

Here’s why:

• Finances. I manage to sell enough books at these events to pay me pretty well for a weekend’s attendance.
• Exposure. The more I’m out in the community with my books, the more I’m gaining face, title, and name recognition. These few live events have already led to my books being carried in a local bookstore, one of my books being reviewed in a local newspaper, and more and more people starting to say, “I’ve heard of you!”
• Interaction. It’s no secret that writing is a lonely job. Getting out means I get to interact with people — readers — all day long. Now, I’m not an especially social person, but I do enjoy reaching out. I also get to witness to my faith, because (cool thing!) people ask about what underlies my stories.

If you’re self-published (or published some other way) consider booking yourself into local events and see where it takes you. If nothing else, it’s excellent training in face-to-face marketing!

Yesterday I got a package in the mail containing three new books on writing:

The Art and Craft of Writing Historical Fiction: Researching and Writing Historical Fiction

102 Ways to Earn Money Writing 1,500 Words or Less: The Ultimate Freelancer’s Guide

179 Ways to Save a Novel: Matters of Vital Concern to Fiction Writers

They’re all published by Writer’s Digest Books, which is really a great resource for writers. As you know, I love to read, and I strongly believe in constantly educating myself. I don’t actually write historical fiction (yet), nor am I currently trying to save a novel, but I love to read about writing — all kinds of writing! You never know where you’ll find a new perspective or piece of advice that transforms your own writing, helps you break into a new market, or simply advise someone else with wisdom and knowledge.

Besides, reading about writing is just fun.

What have you read on writing in the past year? Any classic favourites you would recommend or that you continually return to?