How to Lose Fans & Alienate People

The Writer's Cardinal Sin, Part I

My favorite part of any movie looks like this:

That's right: It's blank. Best part of most movies. Just loaded with promise...

Preview over. Lights down. I sit in the darkness, munching my popcorn, excited at the possibility that the next hour and a half or so will deliver. I want to see something that I can't wait to see again. Something I can add to my list of favorites. Something I wish I'd written.

Sometimes the characters alone
make the whole thing worth watching.
Photo by kakisky.

Sometimes cinema magic happens. I've seen Twilight, Penelope, Brokeback Mountain, Up, Ladyhawke, The Princess Bride, and Moulin Rouge more times than I care to admit.

(There will be a reckoning, one day, I'm sure. God will ask me what I did with my allotted time on the planet, and I'll have to account for the hours -- days? -- I've spent watching these & other titles.)

Sometimes it's just a pitch-perfect scene that does it for me; a scene so entrancing, with characters so compelling that it sucks me in every time I see it. Though the movie itself may be imperfect, one great scene can cover a multitude of flaws.

I want to be blown away; to see something I've never seen before... meet characters I never knew were missing from my life... have an experience that up till now I never knew was lacking. When that happens, unicorns poop rainbows, the planets align, and I am a fan for life.

Are you not entertained? Photo by Michael Richter

The writer's first job is entrancement. This is the art of getting someone else to take time out of her busy day, when she could be doing laundry, balancing the checkbook, bathing the dog, vacuuming, flossing, washing her whitewalls, or learning to make perfect creme brulee -- and spend it reading / watching YOUR stuff.

After that's achieved, you just have to keep people turning pages. Or tuned in. You've got them hooked. They're yours.

Unless you commit the writer's Cardinal Sin.

Ready? Here it is:

Writer's Cardinal Sin: Sacrificing your characters for your precious story.

When I bemoan writers who sacrifice their characters, I'm not talking about "the hero has to die" tragedy. No -- true tragedy arises because of the hero's fatal flaw. Heroes can die, cheat on their spouses, stiff their waiters, or fart audibly at funerals, as long as their actions are consistent with the characters your fans have grown to know and love.

What they cannot do is suddenly change into people they've never been who do things they should have never done because the writer wasn't bright enough to figure out how to write the story and keep the players consistent.

Ever wonder if you're committing the Big C.S.? Here's how to tell:

Committing the Writer's Cardinal Sin flushes all your
hard work in entrancing your audience right down the...
you know. Photo by jdurham.

If smart characters suddenly become stupid, if weak ones suddenly become strong, if dumb ones suddenly know more than your reader, or if sinners suddenly become saints, you're flirting dangerously with the unpardonable.

Few things will lose you readers, watchers, or fans faster than making a favorite character do something ... wrong. I don't mean something marginally out of character in order to prove a point or have some personal growth. That's not only OK; but it's expected. No, I mean Intentionally Wrong.  The kind of Wrong that makes your audience go "Huh? Has the writer ever met this character before? 'Cause even *I* know the person wouldn't do that."

Those kinds of questions destroy entrancement. They bump the audience out of the story and make them realize that the writer is just human. Even worse, they drive home the realization that the characters aren't.

Have you ever encountered this Cardinal Sin? (In others' writing, of course; not your own...) If so, please comment below about how it affected your enjoyment of the work. If not, tune in tomorrow for Part II: a glowing example of what I'm talking about...

All photos from MorgueFile.

Animal Tendencies: 10 Reasons a Manuscript Doesn't Sell

It's true: animals have far greater wisdom about some things than we do. They don't mask their emotions. They live in the moment. They readily abandon themselves to happiness and joy. And, as it turns out, they know about publishing.

Without further ado, I offer pictorial proof of animal wisdom: Ten visual reminders of why a manuscript might not sell.

1.) Way too much filler occurs between the story's beginning and its end.

223,000 words in my manuscript: and all must stay! Photo by Michael Ponton.

2.) Chronology is confusing.

This story doesn't know if it's coming or going. Photo by Emily Roesly

3.)  All set-up; no action.

Check out this way cool scene, jam-packed with possibilities,
in which NOTHING HAPPENS! Photo by delboysafa

4.) Fuzzy logic.

He eats the poisoned frog because he HAS to. Don't you see?
Photo by Karen Miller.

5.) Missing pieces.

But the eyes are implied! They're in the subtext! Photo by xandert.

6.) It spells out the obvious.

Do you get it? Do you? Huh?  Photo by Karen Miller.

7.) Too many "extras" obscure the story.

But the prose is so... PURPLE! Purple is my favorite color! Photo by anusharaji.

8.) Too much important stuff happens behind the scenes, without the reader's knowledge.

She lost her magic power to an evil wizard. It was really exciting.
Take my word for it.  Photo by Matthew Hull.

9.) The story lacks perspective.

Then she broke a fingernail. It was the END OF HER WORLD! Photo by Mark Miller.

10.) Following the crowd. Vampires and werewolves have been done TO DEATH. Really. No lie. Here's a thought: write something original. From your heart. Please.

If all your writer friends looked to the left, would you? Photo by luisrock62.

All photos from www.morguefile.com

How to Know if You've Got What It Takes to Be a Writer

"Maybe I'm not cut out to be a writer. How do I know if I've got what it takes?"

That, my friend, is a loaded question with one simple answer...

I've been having a spirited e-mail discussion lately with a talented writer whose work I've taken far too long to finish Beta reading.

My writing is imperfect! Therefore, I am worthless.
Photo by andi.

I've made comments on her manuscript such as: "I don't like this character very much right now," "He's annoying me with his passivity," and "I want to smack him!" These are not intended to make her tear up her manuscript and flush it and her writing dreams down the toilet. They are intended to help give her a window into one reader's thoughts on her book and make changes she sees fit that might improve the reader's experience.

This writer is very thin skinned. She tends to equate "This doesn't work for me" with "You are a worthless, talentless hack." She is not alone.

What do you mean REWRITE?!
Photo by Rupert Jefferies

I work with writers all the time who say they want honest criticism. And they do. To a point. But what they want more is validation.

I don't mean they need handled with kid gloves. But there comes a point during the litany of "here's where this goes astray" and "this whole section needs reworking" where their eyes glaze over and all they want to hear is, "This has merit. Keep going."

Without exception, my answer is: The project has merit as long as you can remain passionate about it. Because, I hate to tell ya, sweetheart, you're gonna re-write it a bazillion times before it's finished.

If you think that's a Bad Thing -- if the thought of rewriting your precious prose makes you want to crawl in a hole and lament the end of your creative dreams  --  then perhaps it is time to rethink the whole Writer-as-Career-Choice decision.

I'll stay here. And my book will stay on my hard drive.
Photo by Scott Liddell

But if the thought of revisiting your characters and their world, spending more time with them and seeing how they can be made even better invigorates and excites you, then you've got what it takes!

'Cause, frankly, that's ALL it takes.

No one is born knowing how to put words together. No one instinctively understands plotting, or dialogue, or subtext, or character arcs. No one pops out of the womb with an innate grasp of imagery. Or poetry. Or knowing when to use "whose" and when to use "who's." Everyone who wants to write has to learn all that stuff -- and more.

Writing is a craft. It's a learned skill. Any time you find yourself thinking "I don't have the chops for this," what you really mean is "I need to expand my skill set."

No, dammit! Every word must stay!
Photo by Scott Liddell.

I had a lovely discussion yesterday with a producer who wants to work with me developing a script of mine that he likes. He has a proven track record. He has loads of experience and connections. He thinks my script needs some work.

This I see as a *good* thing. Because, in all honesty, the story is as good as I can make it on my own. The script has done well in contests. I've polished it to make it as shiny as I know how. But that doesn't mean it's perfect.

He gingerly approached the subject of reworking several aspects of the story. At one point, I cut to the chase and said, "You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings. If you have suggestions for improving the script, I'm all ears. Give me notes and let's talk."

He literally sighed with relief. Evidently, he was afraid I was going to be one of "those" writers who approaches rewrites with all the excited anticipation of a colonoscopy.

Want to know if you've got what it takes to be a writer? Put yourself in the editor's / producer's / publisher's shoes. Imagine going to you with suggestions for improving your piece. Now imagine your reaction. Then ask: "Could I work with me?"

If the answer is "yes," there you have it. You've got what it takes.

Now get out there! Show your work to people. Invite criticism from people whose opinions you trust. Weed through the comments for the recurring themes. Then roll up your sleeves and get to work!

All photos from www.morguefile.com.

Tips for Surviving the Pitch Session

"Nobody knows anything," is screenwriting legend William Goldman's famous observation on the vagaries of Hollywood.

After attending the recent InkTip Pitch Summit in Burbank, CA, I'd like to modify that to: "Nobody knows everything." Oh, people know some things. They know what they want. They know what they don't want. But what one person knows (and wants) is very very different from what another knows (and wants). For instance:

1. Listen to the Pros
The day before the Pitch Summit was filled with classes for those of us who weren't 100% sure
about our pitching abilities. Agent Barbara Bitela, with three books in print, gave a spirited presentation on what makes a good pitch. Her advice:

• Tell your story. 
• Show a little leg (with regards to your screenplay, darling!).
• Be friendly.
• Have fun.

She also gave a ripping read of some attendees' first pages, troubleshot major problems, and did her darndest to demystify the whole pitching process.

2. Don't Take Anything At Face Value
Don't go slavering all over the agents and representatives you meet. If they're the same place you are, chances are, they're as hungry for success as you. Ms. Bitela's three books are all self-published, and she's publicly touting her printed press releases in her professional bio -- two facts that would make me go "Hmmmmm" for a LONG while before signing with any agent.

Neither POD nor press releases mean she didn't know what she was talking about. But they're enough to put the brakes on any sort of runaway dream that a single person is going to be THE ONE who kickstarts my career.

3. Tell Them a Little About Yourself
One piece of advice I heard was "before launching into the pitch, tell the people listening about your inspiration for the story." This flew in the face of everything I'd ever heard, but -- surprise, surprise! -- it's (mostly) true. (See #4)

Our pitches were only allotted 5 minutes, from doors open to "Thank you, bye." Not a lot of time for revealing one's muse. However, several times when I led with what sparked my idea for a story, I had the producers on the other end of the table nod and say they preferred it when writers did that.

4. Don't Tell Them About Yourself
Ah, but not everyone wants to hear about your creative process.

The genesis for one of my scripts came to me after WunderGuy had a horrific allergic reaction to some new medication. That got me thinking "What if...?" and led to the creation of Shutters. which I consider a genuinely creepy screenplay. Most producers responded to my real-life-inspiration lead-in. But one told me, "If you pitch this script to anyone else, just start with the story." 

~sigh~ 

5. Memorize Your Pitch
You need to have your story down. You need to know it backward and forward. That way, when you're in a room of 400 producers and 100 writers, all elbow-to-elbow, with 5 minutes to get their pitch out, you can just access your lines and deliver them with confidence.

I practiced what I was going to say, including, "Hi, I'm Ami Hendrickson," for a month before I went. No lie. I practiced my pitches while walking my dogs, driving my car, getting groceries, and sitting in the ER. I wanted to do everything in my power to deliver when the time came.

I was glad that I memorized my pitch because, after 5 straight hours of pitching multiple screenplays in 5 minute increments, I could access the This-Word-Comes-Next file without groping & "er"-ing. However, I also ran up against the reality of #6:

6. Don't Memorize Your Pitch
No one wants to hear words delivered by rote. A pitch is supposed to inspire people to engage you. You want them to ask questions ("How does it end?" "Do you have a one-sheet?") and get excited about your story ("Here's my e-mail. Send me the .pdf."). None of that's going to happen from memorized lines.

When you pitch, you are talking to a person. Or people. You aren't standing up on stage and delivering your lines. Talk to them. Smile. Laugh. Say something human. They don't want to do business with robotic automatons. Be someone they can see themselves working with.

7. Be Nice.

To everyone. All day. For a cautionary tale on how not being nice can kill your chances, check out my favorite Tale from the Script Pitch. Yes, it's true.

8.  Have FUN!
I worried and stressed about going to the Pitch Summit. Regular readers may remember my pitching-is-like-exotic-dancing analogy. I stand corrected. Pitching is far more fun than I thought it would be. Because, you see, it's a chance to tell people my stories! Had I but known, I'd have gone to far more pitch fests.

All we writers want is for people to hear / see / read / know our stories. Well, pitching makes that happen. The Pitch Summit was like an all-day cocktail party in which people willingly gave me 5 minutes of their time to talk about any one of my screenplays I desired! How cool is that?

Unfortunately, too many writers there weren't having fun. They weren't enjoying their 5 minutes in the spotlight. They were stressed, whiny, and desperate. Honestly -- how often do you want to spend more time with people like that? Is it any wonder that they didn't have producers taking an avid interest in their stuff?

Lighten up! Enjoy yourself! Let your stories out of their hard-drive dungeons and give them a chance to breathe a little. Introduce them to people and see what happens!

I had 33 requests for one-sheets and 10 complete script requests from the Pitch Summit. Some writers there may have had more; some less. The numbers aren't the point. I met so many interesting writers, producers, directors, and development executives.  I reconnected with friends I met at film festivals years ago. To me, that's what it's all about: putting yourself out there. Talking to people about your work.

You never know: all it takes is for one person to forget to say "no."

Here's wishing you a career full of "Yesses!"

What's your favorite Pitching Tip? I'd love it if you'd share your wisdom below.

Tales from the Script Pitch

I just got home from the InkTip Pitch Summit in L.A. What FUN!

I hate sales, but love to tell stories. I’ve always equated pitching with “script selling.” If I had to choose between doing a sales pitch and sticking pins in my eyes, I’d be blind. But pitching isn't about the immediate sale any more than dating is about getting married immediately and setting up housekeeping. It's more about allowing both parties to get to know each other to determine if they think they want to work together.

You'll hear much more about the Summit in later posts. I'm still digging out from my pile of notes, 1-sheet and script requests, and contact information while trying to re-adjust to a 3-hour time difference and picking up my life where I left it.
However, I had to share my favorite story from the Summit:

Photo by Kenn W. Kiser, from www.MorgueFile.com

Four biker-looking producers are sitting at 1 table. I'm gonna pitch them my dark comedy. The guy before me (sports jacket, attache) passes out his very slick 1-sheets and leaves. All are interested in what he had to say.

When he's gone, the most badass looking of the 4 (black T-shirt, multi-colored tattoos) says quietly, "That guy nearly ran me over in the parking lot this morning."

"No!" Everyone says.

He nods. "Yeah. Got out of his car yelling at me. Cussed me up one side and down the other."

Like clockwork, the other three tore up the 1-sheets into tiny bits & tossed them away.

You just never know: the tough-guy biker might be the producer you're dying to meet! He might be the one you need to give your career the boost you've been waiting for.

In short, common courtesy may be the best pitching tool in your belt! And judging any human book by its cover is a long step off a short and slippery slope...

Be nice. Karma is real. So is poetic justice. It's not all about you. The publishing world and the entertainment industry are full of people who are ready and willing to listen to what you've got to say. But remember: You're pitching yourself as much as your story. If they know from personal experience that you're a self-centered boor, the best pitch in the world won't get you through the door.

Guest Blogger Maggie Mendus: In Praise of Poetic Structure

NOTE: Today's guest blogger is poet, author, & blogger Maggie Mendus . I first met Maggie at a writer's workshop I taught. She has relentlessly pursued her passion: writing and publishing poetry. 

Maggie is "a poet who writes to heal." A retired language arts teacher and a pianist, she is published in "The Eclectic Muse," "Romantics Quarterly," "Harp Strings," "Poets’ Forum Magazine," and "Sandcutters." She and her husband live in the wooded dunes of Lake Michigan. She is the author of Broken Consciousness. 

Wait, don’t go anywhere. Just because you might not read poetry written in the classic forms doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. I mean it. I was taught to write poetry in traditional forms, and I know the trend these days is free verse, sometimes very free.

Oh, I’ve been to those readings where some bearded guy with dreads sways in front of an audience, eyes closed, head thrown back, the dramatic glissando of his voice sliding between whispers and shouts. I try, but can’t follow his train of thought, and I don’t like being aboard trains that might derail. He’s a performance poet, for sure.

Now I have nothing against beards, dreadlocks, performance poets, or (well-written) free verse. But hey, what I’m hearing has to make some sort of sense. And these dudes go off down winding paths of wild emotion. Their angry tirades, political ravings, and decadent wanderings into love and sex never make sensible circuits with beginnings, middles and ends.

I keep an open mind. But traditional verse met me on the road and we became friends. No, the French villanelle wasn’t easy at first. But reading villanelles (same form as Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas) ignited something in me. I wanted to write one, too.

Why am I attracted to the difficult? Believe me when I tell you that my first attempts were macaroni and cheese compared to a delicate soufflé. But the detailed rhyme scheme kept my attention, and after a lot of blood, sweat, and tears I produced one, an original expression that obeyed the structures the villanelle imposes. I felt as if I’d passed some sort of test with flying colors.

"Poetic fences create boundaries." Photo by Jane M. Sawyer.

Of course that motivated me to write more, and the villanelle became my favorite form. Practice, like keeping my fingers nimble for the piano by playing scales, aims me toward success. I find the sonnet more challenging, but I like writing anaphora and terza rima. I write triolet, rondeau, pantoum, and other formal verse, finding that structure is freeing. Poetic fences create boundaries, and in traditional verse a line is just that, an exact number of syllables, a particular rhythm, a certain rhyme.

This quest urges me ahead and keeps me writing. In early March I published a book of 52 poems, BROKEN CONSCIOUSNESS: Reflections of an Epileptic , and all but one are in traditional form.

Why not try your hand at a poem in one of the classic forms? A great guide is Lewis Turco’s The Book of Forms , a worthwhile tool. Like me, you might resist….at first. But who knows? Also like me, you may become hooked. 

A final word from Ami: I share Maggie's love of structure in writing. Some of my most rewarding writing is done within a strict structural framework. What are your thoughts? Are you a classicist? A student of structure? Or a proponent of chaos? Weigh in with your comments below. Extra points for comments written in structured verse.

Seize the Day: Surprise a Writer

A writer's life is full of endless surprises. Main characters refuse to do the very things for which they were created. Villains become too compelling to destroy. Minor characters endear themselves and merit their own story lines. And then there's Real Life...

Wednesday started out like any other day. Horses, dogs, cats, & assorted flocks of fowls to feed... A beta read to continue for a Twitter friend... A request for a quick foreword edit from a blog visitor...

While perusing my Twitter feed, I saw blogger Tracey Hansen's Week 3 #HumpDayChallenge: Write a short story of no more than 100 words that featured the following 5 words:

Jelly. Memory. Greed. Stench. And legerdemain.

Entries had to be posted by 8 p.m., for judging by novelist Al Boudreau.

So after editing the foreword, I started working on a little something... 

In the evening, while my daughter was in karate class I sat in the YMCA, finished up my entry and posted it -- 15 minutes before the deadline.

And then life hit me with the surprise:

I came home to discover that my wonderful husband, who has been doing really well lately, had stopped making sense. Which is not normal for the WunderGuy. Fearing that he was gearing up for a seizure, I packed him off to bed.

(I learned later that the "not making sense" was actually a sort of seizure in itself. I should have taken him to the ER immediately. If only he'd come with an operator's manual. Now I know...)

At quarter to 1 a.m., the fun started. Multiple tonic-clonic seizures, coupled with major ick-sickness, can totally ruin an evening. After the third seizure in 2 hours, I knew it was time to take him to the hospital. His right side wasn't working very well, but somehow (thank God) we got him down the stairs. He was exhausted, so I sat him on the chair to catch his breath while I called a friend to come and watch our daughter. WunderGuy began seizing again.

I dialed 9-1-1.

When the paramedics pulled into our drive a few moments later, he seized a 5th time. He spiked a fever (common after multiple seizures), was sick-sick-sick, and was completely comatose.

We got to the ER shortly after 3. They stabilized him and ran a bunch of tests: EEG, CAT scan, chest x-ray, blood tests. Nothing conclusive, except they're worried that he aspirated fluid into his lungs, so they gave him an antibiotic as a preventative for pneumonia.

These seizures, and the 4 hours or so leading up to them are very different than others he's had. Just this past week, his meds have switched from name brand to generic made-in-India because insurance won't pay for the "real" ones. I'm leaning toward a theory that says that's to blame. But what do I know?

We stayed overnight in the ER; got discharged shortly after 10 a.m. Dragged my butt home, put exhausted WunderGuy to bed, then muddled through the day trying to stay awake & be a mom to 8 y.o. (True confession, I did park her in front of a movie so I could catnap for an hour.)

So it was a wonderfully pleasant surprise to check in on Twitter and learn that I'd won the short story contest. (Want to read it? Here: NIGHTFALL.)

Aw, Gee. You made my day.

What did I win? Well, I'll tell ya, it was a virtual swag bag.

I won the right to display this bitchen, way cool badge of honor. I received a ton of goodwill congratulations from other contestants & Twitter followers. I got the satisfaction of seeing my fiction in print on a site other than my own. And I got a much-needed boost to my emotionally drained spirit that will propel me to fight (and write) yet another day.

In other words, the prizes were a gladly welcomed surprise.

Later (apres catnap and after ascertaining that WunderGuy was still breathing and cogent), I received another surprise.  The person I'd helped with foreword editing sent me a Starbucks gift card in thanks. How nice. How thoughtful. And, given my insatiable penchant for coffee, how totally appropriate.

Now, neither winning the contest nor receiving free coffee has lessened my concern over my husband's well-being. They haven't helped me sign with my Dream Agent or contributed toward this month's mortgage payment. But both went a long way toward making a difficult day... bearable.

Want to make a writer's day? Surprise 'em! Some ideas:

*  Tweet 'em up. If you're both on Twitter, post a less-than-140-character note telling the world how great your Exceptional Writer Friend is.

"You are SO cool!" photo by Mary R. Vogt / MorgueFile.com

*  Blog 'em big. If you have a blog, write a post about something your friend does that you admire. Especially if the thing you admire is writing-related. Most writers get way more rejections than kudos thrown their way. Having someone specify how they don't suck can do more than you know to bolster a writer's flagging spirits.

*  Leave a comment. If your writer friend has a blog, say something in the comments section. Drop a note saying how much you appreciate the friendship, the insight, the craftsmanship, or the humor. Go public with your recognition. It can make someone's day.

It's the little surprises that make life worth living.

* Send a snail mail.  Eschew technology and go old school. Get tangible. Break out the pen and paper or pick up a card, write a note of encouragement and approval, and send that puppy.

*  Send 'em something special. Thanks to the twin miracles of PayPal and online gift certificates, it doesn't take much time or money to send a certain special sumpthin'. Even a $5 gift eCard for their favorite bookseller, coffee shop, movie theatre, or other vice goes a long way. It's a great way to say, "I believe you're going to make it." 

So go ahead, make someone's day. You might find it brings a smile to your face as well:  Surprise!