The title of this post is not some clever reverse psychology trick. You really shouldn’t listen to this advice. It’s bad for you and it goes against everything you’ve ever heard from all those lovely and wise literary agents out there. The Chips and Nathans and Janets and the rest. (I’m not being sarcastic here. All the agents I’m thinking of are completely lovely and incredibly competent and smell like cupcakes.)
So why am I writing this post? Because sometimes advice that’s perfect for The Many is perfectly wrong for The Few. I’m not saying it’s bad to be among The Many. It’s actually a great place to be as a writer because there’s so much helpful information out there for you. When agents and editors speak in generalizations (usually with sentences that begin “Always…” or “Never…” or the more sinister variation, “If you ever want to be published…”), those of you who are among The Many really ought to listen.
If you’re perfectly content with the writing advice you’re getting elsewhere, please stop reading now. I’m only going to screw that up with what I say below. Seriously, I mean it. Go away.
Go. Away.
Yes, I see you. You’re still reading. Right, right, that’s only because you want to see what sort of drivel I’m going to drool onto the page so you can wipe it away. Like actual drool.
I’m cool with that. Mostly because I happen to like the word drivel.
Now let’s get on with it.
Here’s the bad advice I warned you about. Read it. Then feel free to call me names in the comments.
On Branding – I know what you’re thinking. (I’m psychic like that.) This whole “branding” thing is mostly for non-fiction writers. Yes. True. And necessary. (Google it. Study it. Do it.) But it doesn’t take much exploration of agents’ and editors’ and publishers’ blogs before you read about the critical importance of defining who you are as a fiction author. The agent sages will tell you without apology that your chance of getting published in multiple genres is somewhere between slim and Victoria Beckham. And, of course, they’re right. So what do you do about that? Well, if you only write one genre, you’re all set. Lucky you. But what if you write in multiple genres? What then? Well, you could simply choose your favorite genre and work exclusively on that until you’re really good at it, then do your darnedest to get noticed by an agent. That’s a fine idea, too. Do that. Unless you haven’t yet found your favorite. In that case, here’s my bad writing advice: just write the story that’s in your head. Don’t fret about branding. Just write. Because here’s the thing – for The Few, this “branding” thing can become a sentient shadow determined to constrict your creativity in trade for the tenuous promise of a better chance of publication. The shadow of branding can keep you from experimenting and exploring and growing as a writer because you’re afraid you might be coloring outside the lines. Don’t let it. Write whatever the muse tells you to write. Please note: following this approach demands that you loosen the grip on your publishing dreams and your most-likely-ambitious timetable for those dreams. But in the meantime, you’ll be enjoying the writing journey. At some point you’ll still need to decide which novel do you want to be known for (first). Then, yes, if you get a publishing deal for that book you’ll be branded according to its genre. But that’s okay. If you write more of those novels, you can make more money. (If that sort of thing is important to you.) But please don’t stop writing the other books the muse demands. If you’re one of the luckiest few, you’ll be able to place novels on more than one shelf in Barnes & Noble someday.
On Writing the First Draft – Nearly everyone in the biz will tell you, “turn off the self-editor when you write” or some variant of that. Some have even rather boldly said it thusly, “write a bad first draft.” If that works for you, wonderful. Save your editing for the second (and subsequent) drafts. But for The Few…this won’t work. For The Few, there is no other way to write than to wrestle with every word, every sentence, every paragraph. There’s no other way to write than to edit and re-edit page after excruciating page. Sometimes it’s one page forward and two pages back. It’s almost always a painful and laborious process…and it’s the only way The Few can write. So if you’re among this group, don’t you dare write a bad first draft. Write the best damn first draft you can. Then, and only then, go back through the manuscript. I’m sure you’ll still find a few things left to fix.
On Submitting Your First Book – Agents warn, “Don’t send us your first novel” or at the very least, “Don’t tell us you’re submitting your first novel.” They say this for a good reason. A first novel is often a practice round writers didn’t know was practice until it was done. Most first novels are training exercises. And most just aren’t very good. I said most novels. There are exceptions. (And isn’t this whole post really about exceptions? Yeah, it is.) Look, I know writers. The majority of us suffer from extremely low self esteem and believe even our best work is crap. It may be. But then again, it could be brilliant. Don’t assume that because a novel is your first, it absolutely without question isn’t worthy of submission. Do your due diligence – get feedback from crit groups and freelance editors and other experts. Listen to what they say. If what you hear is a quiet complaint of cursing followed by an under-the-breath “some writers just have it…why the hell don’t I?”, this probably means it’s really good.
That’s enough for now. I’ll save more bad advice for another post. Okay, are you ready for the M. Night Shyamalan twist?
Ignore everything I just wrote. You’re not among The Few. Nope. Sorry. You’re not the exception. You’re just like everyone else…
…probably.
Comments
24 responses to “Writing Advice You Should Definitely Ignore”
I especially like the advice about the cross-genre stuff.
Very funny post.
Thanks. My goal is to inform and entertain. Mostly entertain. If the other happens, I like to think of that as a happy accident.
You and Hugh McCleod. “Ignore Everybody”. 🙂
I’m sorry, were you saying something? 😉
Well I totally agree about the branding stuff. Some of my favourite writers got stuck in their brand and now just write the same thing over and over. And one can have too much of a good thing!
And I definitely agree about the “bad first draft” thing. I tried for about 5 minutes to do NaNoWriMo but was so disgusted with the idea of intentionally writing badly that I couldn’t continue. Those self-editors are in your head for a reason.
I also agree with you about submitting your first novel. A writer is the worst judge of their own writing.
In conclusion, it must be good advice you have given, since I agree with it.
Your conclusion is very kind. And it’s also clear evidence that you’re on a path that will inevitably lead to costly therapy and periodic institutionalization. (I recommend The Writer’s Rehabilitation House. Ask for the e. e. cummings suite. It has the best view and nothing’s capitalized.)
Good stuff on branding. I’ve been wrestling with a nagging suspicion that I am on a fool’s errand trying to get my murder mystery published while writing a literary novella about the consequences of a novel which I haven’t gotten around to writing yet, but will. Then there’s the epic historic multi-generation novel set in Michigan’s Old Mission Peninsula. After that, who knows? There’s one called “Snouts and Ties,” from a Nabokov quote.
I am either one of “the Few” or sadly delusional.
Or both!
Katdish is right. You could be both. This could be a very good thing. Or it could lead to a mental breakdown. (See response to Sarah above.)
You’re absolutely right. 99% of people reading this post should not take your advice. But it’s fantastic advice for the 1% who should.
If I apply your statistical analysis to the actual number of people who read this blogpost, then 1/2 of one person will benefit from my advice. I’m thinking it’s probably half of Sarah. But it might be half of Michael, considering your other note above. Argh. I hate making decisions like this almost as much as I hate cutting people in half to satisfy a statistical certainty. Therefore, I’m (reluctantly) going to have to see if I can get more people to read the post.
Thanks a lot, katdish. You’re forcing me to care about analytics when all I want to do is write meandering, meaningless drivel buried under the pretense of helpful advice.
Sorry/you’re welcome. And stop checking your analytics…
I’m sorry, were you saying something? I was checking my analytics.
To every rule, there’s an exception – this post highlights that fact perfectly. There seems to be an emerging backlash against the plethora of rules-for-getting-published that the unseen wizards of the literary establishment produce/publish (see Jane Friedman’s excellent post: http://bit.ly/duepz6). Read the ‘rules’ by all means, but I think it’s sensible to allow room for uniqueness, otherwise we’re in danger of standardising everything we write.
Excellent points. And Jane’s post is a must-read. She’s really smart and her blog is packed with practical writing advice. if you like that sort of thing.
I believe I’m one of “the few” on at least one of those points. I can’t not edit myself. For my sanity, though, I try to restrain my self editor at least a little.
Hopefully I will find that I should also follow the last tip. I love my WIP too much for it to just be practice, especially since it’s probably the beginning of a series.
I will probably ignore the first bad advice you gave though. I think the farthest I might wander is from YA to adult fiction.
I’m glad to see you’re back to blogging more often. Thanks for the non-advice.
My self-editor is smarter than I am and lets me know it whenever I sit down to write. I’m not quite sure how this is possible, considering we share the same brain, but if I don’t listen to him it’s like having your cake and not eating it.
[What the hell are you talking about? Fix that simile right away or I’ll have your poetic license revoked. I can do that. I know people.]
Definitely have to self-edit as I go. Have to. (Amazing sometimes that it still needs editing several months later.)
Mixed “brands”: Angela Hunt, Travis Thrasher, Francine Rivers
What the hey? I’ve written seven novels and self-published two. “Bad” advice serves me well. 😉
There are indeed some success stories in the whole mixed-brands game. (Thanks for noting a few.) I think if you look back to a mixed-brands author’s beginning, you’ll discover the first few books line up neatly in a single genre. That’s because it usually takes a season of success before an author can branch out. Usually, but not always. This is where I’d usually say something snarky or sarcastic or mildly humorous, just because that’s part of my developing blog-brand. But since unpredictability is also part of my blog-brand, I’m not going to do it this time. So there.
I am a one-draft writer, and have lived in shame over that fact for a while. Certainly since Anne Lamott wrote that Jesus doesn’t love first draft writers.
The trouble is – I can’t get myself to intentionally write a bad draft. It feels like the biggest waste of time. It’s like making a bad dinner with good ingredients on purpose.
Thank you for standing up for the few. Also thanks for the Victoria Beckham line. That was happy.
Long live the one-draft writer! Um, just don’t tell anyone you’re one of these because editors will be troubled and writers will be jealous.
Oops, too late.
You’re welcome for the Victoria Beckham line. I sorta liked it, too. It came to me in the first draft of my post. Which was my only draft.
(I agree the mixed-branders start out with/in a single genre. Usually. But, hey, what do I know?!)
What do you know? You know a lot. 🙂
I don’t have a funny or pithy way to say this, just sincere. Thanks for this post. I think I have gotten caught in the confusion of not being able to clasify my writing into a particular style, that I have stopped writing. Not a good thing. I guess this reminded me that I need to write in my way and not worry about fitting in or being published. Hey, that’s normal for me – when have I ever fit in.