Sunday 8 December 2013

A NaNo Hangover - 20 Editing Tips

It's been 8 days since I became a NaNoWriMo winner.  

I competed the challenge of writing 50,000 words of a novel in a month (nanowrimo.org 

Yeah me...I think...why doesn't it feel like I've succeeded at something?

Ever since I've had writers hangover

I look back at what I've written and see 200 pages of editing and re-writing and the further 40,000 words I still need to write to complete the book

To get myself motivated I've set up Pinterest boards that I have open on one of my screens while I write

I have a couple related to the book, 'Solomon's Secrets', but I also have one that's just writing tips and help for writers:  http://www.pinterest.com/amymorse184/writing/

A month of free-flow writing has left me with so much editing to do that I've been gathering tips.

Here's my Top 20 Tips for Editing Your Work:

  1. Delete the unnecessary adverbs
  2. Is at least 50% of the book Dialogue?
  3. Lose 10% - be ruthless
  4. Are all the characters necessary?
  5. Reduce the adjectives
  6. Show don't tell
  7. Multi-sensory; does the scene appeal to all the senses?
  8.  Have you kept points of view consistent?
  9. Cut up long sentences
  10. Are there any holes in the plot?
  11. Are the characters believable?
  12. Does each character have a distinctive voice?
  13. Have you done your research?
  14. Is there enough conflict?
  15. Check spelling - using more than just the spell checker
  16. Get at least two other people to read through and edit your work
  17. Are sentences logical?  too many 'as', 'and' & 'thens' can have characters doing everything at once
  18. Less is more - cut unnecessary words from sentences
  19. Read it out loud, anything that doesn't flow will jar and be immediately obvious
  20. Always use 'said' as a conversation tag
A couple  of strong coffees and some carbs and hopefully I can cure this hangover and get back to writing

 



Wednesday 6 November 2013

Procrastination is infectious

The first of November was the start of the 14th annual Nation Novel Writing Month - NaNoWriMo (http://nanowrimo.org).  What started with 21 people in the San Francisco Bay area challenging each other to write 50,000 words, the skeleton of a novel, in a month, has become a global phenomenon.   In 2010 200,000 people registered on the website and joined the community.  This year, it's 277,000 budding writers and counting. 
I'm one of them.
My blog is all about the power of ideas and this movement in many way epitomizes that.
It starts with a dare, a challenge, a comment, a spark.  
It takes hold, and in our globally interconnected world, infects people with a sudden, uncontrollably contagious strain of creativity.
A comment like; 
"I've always wanted to write a book."
Whenever I tell people I'm a writer and write books, if I had a pound for everyone who said that, I'd make more money than I ever would selling books!
But why do so many of us dream of writing?
The short answer is because we can. 
There's a long answer, but that would involve an academic study on what drives us to be creative and what motivates us.
And why do we need a website to get us going?
The simple answer is because we need to belong.  
We need to feel like we're part of something bigger than ourselves. Pack mentality, safety in numbers, whatever you want to call it.  Being around others, even in a virtual sphere, encourages us.  We are fundamentally social creatures.
What stops us just getting on with it?  If so many of us would like to write a book, why don’t we?
Motivation.  Confidence. Fear.  Time. Commitments. Responsibilities. Laziness.  etc etc. 
We will always find something else to do...Procrastination.
Procrastination is an affliction that affects 70% of us.  I'm probably doing it right now as I type this instead of actually working on my NaNoWriMo - I do appreciate the irony of that!
But there is a greater irony in the NaNo website itself.
Take a quick glance and there are forums, discussion boards, questions, articles, tips, advice, support, merchandise - it's endless.  Pages and pages of procrastination!
Perhaps this is another way for me to procrastinate - but to keep me inspired and the organise my web research for my NaNoWriMo project, I've started a Pinterest page:
Be part of the community, feel supported - yes.  But the most important thing is just to do it.  To write.  Write.  Write, and keep writing.  That's what writers do. 
Speaking of which....I have a novel to write...

Wednesday 16 October 2013

Random Acts of Marketing

Noise

There is so much noise.  Everywhere.  We are bombarded with it.  

...emails, tweets, texts, follows, likes, pins, pokes, junk mail, adverts, 
popups, banners, blogs, spam...

Argh!

How can you possibly be heard in all this noise?

You can't.  At least, not by everyone.  The best you can do is to get noticed by those in your immediate vicinity.

Here are my Top 7 Tips to get noticed in the crowd and be heard above the din:

1 - Be interesting

2 - Be informative

3 - Be quirky

4 - Be different
 
5 - Give something back

6 - Everyone loves a freebie

7 - Listen and respond

There are some scary stats out there.  

My book is The Bronze Box (http://amzn.to/19MWQkh) and it is just one of millions of new titles being published... 17 books are published every minute of every day in the US alone!

Even as I write this, I am acutely aware that there are millions of other blog posts being published all over the world and this one will disappear into a melee of information.

But marketing doesn't have to be boring or uninspiring.  
Use it as an excuse to be creative.

In an attempt to be noticed, I'm engaged in some random acts of marketing. 

I'm making little boxes (number 3 & 4).  
Inside my boxes are a sweet (number 6) and information about the book (numbers 1 & 2).  





But whenever you are sending out a message the only way that you know it has been received is to get some feedback.

So inside the boxes I am also including a note asking people to tweet me (@TomCatDesigns) if they find the box and tell me where they found it.  

This is useful as I'll know where people are finding out about me, plus it's fun and an excuse to engage in a conversation with a potential customer/fan (number 7).

Now all I need to do is use some guerrilla tactics and release my little boxes into the world.

 
 





Thursday 10 October 2013

The Pinterest Rabbit Hole - A lost weekend and a head full of inspiration

Something both terrible and magical happened to me this week.  

I discovered Pinterest  

Here I am: http://www.pinterest.com/amymorse184/boards

It all started with a bit of fun - looking at fantasy homes and swimming pools, and now it's getting serious - 19 boards and counting...

A lost weekend and a head full of inspiration is the net result.

I'm trying to control my Pinterest habit, but even as I write this, to paste in the link I had to login and then I had to twitch the curtains and 'pin' a few more lovely things.

Here are 5 tips, as a Pinterest novice, to make it work for you and prevent it from becoming a procrastination tool:

1 - Think carefully about how to title your boards.  Categorise your pins in an intuitive way so that you can find things again

2 - Download a widget for your toolbar, so that whenever you are browsing you can quickly capture and pin things 



3 -  It's a great research tool - If you are conducting some research for a project (IE: writing a book) set up a board for the project and pin all the links you browse so they are easy to find and reference in the future

4 - Pin regularly if you want people to find your pins, re-pin you and follow you

5 - Why reinvent the wheel.  This fabulous person has a board to follow on Pinterest Tips
(http://www.pinterest.com/kanter/pinterest-tips-and-tricks/)

Finally, it seems fitting to post a re-worked book art piece I did for my Project Book 365 (https://www.facebook.com/ProjectBook365) from Alice in Wonderland

Happy Pinning!


Thursday 19 September 2013

Archived Inspiration

Before I wrote and published The Bronze Box (http://amzn.to/18C5gub) I wrote three books in a series I called The Chronicles of The Colony. Fantasy adventure stories set in the fictional world of The Colony.
I needed to write these books so that I could learn how to write books.
They are now archived away in a gloomy and dusty corner of my hard drive.
The first book, Running Free, evolved from a story that I started forming back when I was a teenager and it wasn't until a few years ago that I finally got around to writing it.
So here goes, here is an unreleased chapter from an unpublished book (what do you think?): 
 
My dear friend Hero,



        An absent friend is no less dear. 

I beseech you, go.  Return to The Kingdom for our enemy comes for us.

I have been in league with Houdini, and he warns me that Tornty intends to come for us, both of us. 

She wishes to deal for us - Our lives, for Scarroh’s.

Protect your family, protect yourself.  But for the love of Mother Earth do not let Tornty’s forces capture you, for it will only end in pain and humiliation. 

Carlton and Rascal will never give up the traitor Scarroh, even for us.  This is my only warning. 

I love you brother, flee, go now while there is time and may we be reunited in the home we love so dearly and fight side by side to defend it.



     Your loyal friend

        Myrchen

Hero

“Go, please.  Never look back.”
“No.  Please Hero no,” she pleaded, clutching to me desperately, falling to her knees as she begged me not to do it.
“You must!”  I insisted, though it broke my heart.
“Could we not come with you?  Surely we can find a home in Turnbaer.”
“It’s not safe.  For even now I hear rumours of the new King expelling all Bale-Orreans and Kharr-Attens.  It’s not safe for you,” I said, allowing the terror in my heart to embellish my words.  I asked so little of her, in all our years together, but this, needed her to do.
“But you serve the Kings brother, surely he would help us find sanctuary?  Please Hero, no.  Don’t do this to us.”
Angered now I shook her away from me.  Why could she not understand it?
“I must go!  It is my sworn duty.  I must fight with my kin,” feeling the burn of my honour and loyalty scorching my soul.  This was the hardest thing I would ever face and she was making it harder.  I wanted to shake her, I wanted to wail and cry, anything to convince her of the danger we were facing.
She was angry now, I could see the pulse of it in her eyes, as if her heart had surged into flame - she shouted her defiance.
“Duty?”  I’d never seen her beautiful face so twisted with wrath, “You speak of duty!  What about your duty to your family?”
“Rascal is my family.  Turnbaer is my home?”
“And me?  Your Children?  What are we?  Are we nothing to you?  Damn you Hero and your foolish pride!”  she spat the tirade.  Her fear, her desperation, her love for me, a noxious concoction that boiled and frothed in malice.  I know her well enough to realise that she felt betrayed by me.  I was killing her, but it was the only way I could save her precious life.
“Enough Martha!” I raised my hand to her, she cowered back, afraid I may strike her.  In my life I had never been so close to doing it.  Yet it was not her I wished to hurt for tearing this family to shreds.  She was not my enemy.
I softened, soothed my tone and stilled my fervour.
“Understand me.  Please,”  now it was I that begged.  I reached for her, but she backed away.
“I won’t hurt you!”  I was wounded that she may think me capable of hitting her in anger.
“You already have!”
She turned her back to me, and gazed out of the window into the flowing rains.  They pattered on the glass relentlessly, drumming out their misery, darkening our once happy home.
“Martha I…”  I walked to her, raised my hands to hold her and hesitated.
“You need to go,” I repeated.  “Go anywhere, you know where I keep the cash.  Take it, take it all, but just go.  Take the children and save yourselves.  I beg you.  Darling, please.”
“You cannot buy my submission with cash,” she responded defiantly.
“That’s not what I’m doing and you know it!”
She continued to face away from me.  My heart was tearing itself apart.  She must know that this was the last thing I could ever want?  To leave her and young daughters? 
If only the girls were here, but they were at Martha’s mothers house.  I wouldn’t have time to go and say goodbye, I would have to find another way to tell them how much their father loved them.  And I would pray to Mother Earth that I would see them again.
Martha was closing herself off now.  Refusing to argue any more and refusing to obey me. 
A crash of thunder, and seconds later a spear of lighting lit up her silhouette with a silver shimmer.  I saw her shuddering with sorrow.  Knowing she was silently sobbing, but unable to soothe her.  For the agony was too much to bear.  I longed to pull her into my arms and stay with her, to do my duty as a father and husband to protect her, but there was no escaping the fact that I was the biggest threat to them.  A wanted man who our enemies would never stop searching for.  I couldn’t risk Martha and the girls falling in the firing line.  Why did she not understand this? 
“I must go,” I sighed, grabbing my knapsack and dragging it wearily onto my shoulder, “Take only what you can carry and take the girls far away from here.  Promise me!” 
She nodded solemnly but still refused to look at me.
“Goodbye Martha,” I began to leave the room.  As I reached the door I paused, I glanced back at her perfect outline, shadowed against the window.
“I love you.” 
I turned, and left.
The rain was thankfully easing off as I stepped into the sneering night.  It dappled my hat, and I pulled the collar of my coat up and hunched my neck into it, trudging wretchedly down the path.
“Wait!”
I stopped and turned to see her chasing me down the path, the mud spattered up her skirt as she plunged towards me.
I let my knapsack slide down my arm and splat into the mud, and met her with my arms as she leapt into them.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me over and over on the cheeks. 
“I can’t bare to part on sour words,” she sobbed.
I clutched her tightly to me, folding her into my heart.  Nuzzling my face into her sweet neck, fragrant with her familiar scent.
“Promise me something Hero.”
“Anything.”
She tilted her head away and looked me hard in the eyes,
“You’ll be careful?  Come back to us.”
“I promise you.  I will do all I can.”
“I love you.” 
And with that, she squashed her lips into mine passionately and we enjoyed that final kiss goodbye.