The Future is Federated

Today (July 6, 2023), Meta introduced their new “Threads” app, advertising it as a rival of Twitter. On Mastodon and elsewhere in the Fediverse, the rumors of this newest move have been causing a lot of ruckus and anxiety lately. Many people have understandably been worried about ideas like “Embrace, Extend, Extinguish” (EEE) – a devastatingly destructive business model that corporations like Meta have long been guilty of practicing.

But I think that anxiety is unfounded in this case. 

I think… #TheFutureIsFederated. 

The Fediverse is much stronger than most folks realize. And I think we’re seeing the “down-stream” effects from a combination of A.I. innovation plus corporate oligarchy. But the Fediverse itself is not going away.

Admittedly, I’ve been very leery of Meta’s actions (and rumored NDAs) recently, I won’t deny it. You can scroll through my feed and see my frustration and worries about what could happen. But reflecting upon Meta’s recent actions and the fundamental architecture of the fediverse, I now think those worries were unfounded. 

The very architecture of the Fediverse is one that cannot be bought out or obliterated.

I know that especially for recent migrants to the Fediverse from other flailing platforms, this can be hard to believe or just to feel secure about, on an emotional level. Having only recently had the rug pulled out from under them, they don’t trust the floor beneath their feet. That’s understandable.

Yes, there will be change on Mastodon, and in the entire Fediverse. (Reminder: There is much more to the Fediverse than just Mastodon. The Fediverse is a collection of servers and instances, including Mastodon.) 

Change is inevitable these days, regardless of whether or not Meta ever came out with Threads. We have had a HUGE influx of migrants here (from both Reddit and Twitter) and the “flavor & mood” of the platform has been bound to change from the original, in ways we cannot foresee in detail.

I get it– Change is scary. Change is uncomfortable. But change is always necessary, especially in the 21st Century.

But I’ve seen similar change before, and I think this is analogous enough to guarantee that the Fediverse (in one form or another) will not be destroyed or “extinguished.” The Fediverse is not a private company– it’s not even one single entity. Therein, I believe, will lie the its greatest strength. 

What to know about Threads – Mastodon Blog 

To explain…

I come from the publishing industry. I spent years as an editor, when five companies basically ruled the industry. Nothing made money unless they approved it.

Authors who wanted to print their own books could do that, but they would almost certainly never get to store shelves. Those “publishing houses” were called “Vanity Press” (and even today, they’re ALWAYS a scam). Traditional publishers (the “Big Five”) justifiably looked down on vanities, because the quality was always crap.

Then Print On Demand (POD) and online book sales came along. Amazon KDP made it possible for anyone to publish and sell books for almost no cost. Writers hired their own editors, and began to create– and SELL– quality self-published books. Some sales even rivaled traditional imprints.

(This is relevant. Stay with me…)

My old-school brain didn’t understand it at first. How could anyone make money by self publishing? Why would customers accept low-quality material?

But after hiring myself out as a freelance editor, I eventually saw how it worked, and I saw that the old ideas of how things are done no longer applied.

My thinking had a paradigm shift.

Online sales had changed the industry. POD meant that authors didn’t have to print 10K copies and pay huge storage fees for the 9,999 books they hadn’t sold right away. Readers didn’t have to see your book in a store on a shelf to buy it. And self-published books didn’t mean “unedited” anymore. (Although it still does sometimes.) Freelance editing now seemed like a valid income source for many. 

The Ordinary Person had found a way to take ownership of their own product.

Yes, there are still huge traditional publishers, but none of them is capable of obliterating the self-publishing industry. Technology has made it possible for ordinary people to compete in the marketplace– without them.

Self-publishing is not a fad, it’s not going away, and is only expanding. 

Another Paradigm Shift

Something similar has happened to my viewpoint after being in the Fediverse for a while now…

Coming from corporate social medias like Twitter and Facebook, it’s often hard to understand the power of the Ordinary Person here in the Fediverse. Anyone– and I mean ANYONE– can set up their own instance here. Non-tech-savvy admins have proudly announced they’ve done so. Accounts like @FediTips (https://mstdn.social/@feditips) give simple “how to” instructions.

You don’t need a huge corporate data center taking up the entire basement of a large office building. You don’t need a high-paid CCNA-certified Network Administrator to set up your own server and instance. You can block or federate with almost any other instance you wish.

I see Mastodon and other places in the Fediverse like self publishing – a form of “self-hosting.” Yes, some folks will still go for the corporate networks, some will not. Some will hang out in both.

But the “marketplace” of social media now includes sites controlled by The Ordinary Person, and I don’t see that going back (thanks to protocols like ActivityPub).

Elon Musk and Steve Huffman (Reddit) are like the Big Five publishing companies, which (early in the days of self-publishing) tried to buy out or push out the competition of small indie presses. Zuckerberg is that one publisher who saw the future and thought to make money from it instead, by offering publishing services to the Ordinary Person and embracing the new technology. (Although it’s very important to note that those early overtures to self publishers from the large traditional publishers were always variations on the Vanity Press scams.)

Zuckerberg took a long look at the situation, and also saw it: #TheFutureIsFederated.

He’s established that his new Threads platform will be based in the Fediverse.
 

Catching a Ride on The Gravy Train

To use another metaphor:

Zuckerberg is like a large corporate farmer, who bought a HUGE plot of farmland. Mastodon and the other smaller “family farms” that were already there will not have their crops stolen, or their land tilled by him. (Eugen Rochko, the founder of Mastodon, has said that Zuckerberg will not be able to send ads our way, or mine data that is not shared with them. And that’s where Zuckerberg makes his profit: from ad revenue and data mining. See top link for more on this.)

I think Zuckerberg has seen the metaphorical train at the station, and doesn’t want it to leave without him. He’s also seen how humans have flocked away when company owners have become unstable or tried to exert too much control. Mostly, he’s seen the explosive growth of Mastodon’s numbers and is chasing after that like a dog chasing after a mouth-watering chew toy. He knows Elon’s company is failing, Reddit is bleeding out accounts. He’s looked at the numbers and sees where he wants to be.

He’s following the dollar signs.
https://mastodon.social/@mastodonusercount

I also think he is advertising his Threads app as a version of Mastodon, promoting the connectivity to the Fediverse, the same way he’s also promoting it as a rival version of Twitter. He’s marketing himself to both sides of the street, to the two strongest competitors to Twitter. 

Additionally, Meta has recently stated that their Threads app is not quite up and running with ActivityPub just yet. And I think that’s intentional. He’s jumping in the game while people are still running away from Twitter and Reddit. He sees people looking for options, and (like a savvy businessman) he is grabbing his opportunities when and where he can find them.

Adam Mosseri says Meta’s Threads app won’t have ActivityPub support at launch | TechCrunch 

Another analogy: 

Zuckerberg is looking for a way to ride that (previously mentioned) train at that metaphorical station, by latching on somehow to the Fediverse. He’s hoping to hook his train train cars on the same engine (microblogging), but not let folks board via the other cars (Mastodon etc). But he’s selling the full train experience– Fediverse dining cars and all– to his riders. 

He’s undoubtedly also hoping to (eventually) set up his own dining cars, sleeping cars, etc and coax people in the non-Threads Fediverse to hang out there. He knows he can’t bring his data mining and advertising buddies to the Fediverse, but he’s hoping to coax us into bringing our data to them. 

I’ve already come across articles which seem to think that Meta created the Fediverse, so be sure to combat that huge piece of misinformation whenever possible. The Fediverse was her long before Zuckerberg discovered it. He is the Columbus of the internet, laying claim to “discovering” a place that was populated by millions before he came along. Don’t let that misconception go unchallenged.

The Future is Federated

I’m not sure what will happen from here, but I know there is no going back. ActivityPub and the Fediverse have both established themselves as permanent fixtures of social media, the same way that the various publishing software (such as Amazon KDP) have established themselves as permanent players in the publishing industry. Both ActivityPub and the self publishing websites have revolutionized their respective industries, both have given power to the Ordinary Person, and there is no going back.

Threads using decentralised protocol clear victory for our cause: Mastodon CEO – The Economic Times 

No matter what, this is a nail in Elon’s coffin. And personally, I’m completely here for that. 

Article of Interest: 

If you enjoyed this blog, please remember to “Like” it (click on the star below) and to “Like” any social media posts/comments where you saw this link. And don’t forget to “Follow” me here on WordPress, for more helpful and concise writing tips. Your positive feedback helps me to help more people online.

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Breaking Through Writer’s Block

Writer’s block hits all of us at some point. The most frustrating aspect of having writer’s block is that other writers often tell you that the cure for writer’s block is to “just write” – which feels painfully out of touch with your frustration. But that really is the best solution (even though it’s not worded in a way that seems very helpful in the moment).

Your writing brain and your creativity are like a muscle that needs to be kept in shape – don’t leave them lounging on a mental couch, eating junk food. Like any muscle, the more you use them regularly, the stronger they get. If you can’t find a way to write during your scheduled writing time, try doing something else creative– like make up songs, or draw doodles, or work on arts & crafts, etc. 

First… Get Past the Frustration

Even with regular “workout sessions” for your creativity, writer’s block still hits all of us sometimes. 

Take the pressure off of yourself. Remind yourself that your first draft will never be your final draft. Don’t worry if things don’t seem perfect right away. Just get your ideas in text form, and edit things later to make them perfect. Even the famous authors you admire will always write multiple drafts before getting their work published. 

Another thing to keep in mind: instead of obsessing over a word or a small part of the text when you write, let yourself zip past any bumps in the writing road. Use notes inside your text (or comments in your word processor program) to mark where you want to come back and fix any problems or wording issues. Personally, I put text notes inside three square brackets, so I can always find them later using the Search function. For example: [[[FIX THIS DIALOGUE]]] and [[[INSERT MORE DESCRIPTION HERE]]]. 

In some programs, such as MS Word, you can also insert comments in a document that will not show up in printouts.

Don’t expect perfection with every word. Just get your ideas on the page. Remind yourself: You can always rewrite and edit it later. 

“You need not expect to get your book right the first time. Go to work and revamp or rewrite it.”

Mark Twain

Train Your Brain

For many of us, the hardest part of writing is the self-discipline needed to make progress and finish what you start. Don’t wait for creativity to happen. Make it happen by making a routine of writing regularly. 

Choose a time of day where you have enough energy AND the fewest distractions. If you’re the parent of a young child, getting up extra early in the morning can be the best time, because you have few distractions, but you’ve also had some sleep– probably not a lot of sleep (I’m a Mom myself, so I know this struggle), but it should be at least a few hours. If you regularly commute to work on a train, you might find your train ride is a good time to write. 

Figure out a time and a place that works best for you, and try to stick to it.

Eventually, you will “Pavlov” (train your brain) to see that spot and time of day as where and when you write; you’ll find it easy and comfortable to write, and possibly even make it less likely to get writer’s block.

In the meanwhile, study the Masters of the Craft. Read the kind(s) of things you want to write (books/short stories/articles/poems) in whatever genre you hope to write in (Mystery/Romance/Science Fiction/Memoirs/etc.). Every time you read their work, try to analyze how they tell their stories, describe things, build a scene/fantasy world, create/develop characters you care about, build their plot, etc. What POV do they use? Where do they first introduce major characters, and how? What common character types and common plot points do you see in that genre?

And while you’re doing that, just sit down every day for a short time… and WRITE. 

You’ll eventually find that the more you read, the easier it is to write.

Try starting up again with short stories. Ray Bradbury was an incredibly prolific writer who suggested new writers NOT start with a novel, but focus on writing one short story a week for 52 weeks. His logic was that you can’t write 52 bad stories in a row, so there has to be some good ones in there, somewhere. He also said that writing short stories helps a writer to hone their craft and skills. At the end of a week while writing a book, you won’t know if anything you wrote is good or not; but when writing a short story, you know much sooner.

And yes, even Ray Bradbury started out writing stories that no one would pay for. He revisited some of those in his later years and rewrote them, then sold those revised versions. Not every story will sell at first, and that’s okay. You’re going to fall down a few times when learning to ride a bike. Not every song you play on a piano will sound beautiful when you first learn to play a piano. And not everything you write (especially when you first start to write) is going to make money. That’s okay.

A blank screen/piece of paper is the enemy of every writer. Defeat it by filling the screen with anything. Type the alphabet, a speech someone once gave, a letter you need to write to someone – anything. When you inevitably find yourself frustrated by writer’s block, type out a page from another book, or just type the alphabet a few times – anything, just so your screen won’t be so empty and intimidating.

That’s what folks mean when they tell you to “just write.” 

Diagnose Yourself

There are two kinds of writer’s block: The “Can’t Start” and the “Stuck in the Middle” blocks. The steps you can take to defeat writer’s block can depend on which one of them you’re dealing with.

If you have a case of “Can’t Start,” you probably need ideas. Here are some tricks for getting your creativity flowing again:

• READ. Read the kinds of stories you want to write. Read lots of them. Then read more. Ray Bradbury recommended reading one short story, one non-fiction essay (on any topic), and one classic (not modern) poem, every night for 1,000 nights, as a way to study the craft of writing. 

The Best Writing Advice I Ever Heard: Read 100 Books

• Start keeping an idea notebook, either on paper or in a phone app. Carry it with you everywhere – even into the bathroom. Any time you get any idea (for a story, a character, a place, a name, etc.), jot it in the notepad. The next time you need ideas, flip through your notepad and see what you can find. 

• You can also look through old photos, yearbooks, and memorabilia to trigger memories of foolish & funny things you did when you were younger, the people you knew and their stories, and interesting events from your past. Talking to older relatives about their memories also can help with ideas – as well as to give you treasures from them that you can cherish after they’re gone.

• If you can’t find any good ideas there, look at unusual stories in the news or the “weird true tales” kinds of accounts on YouTube, etc. Find unusual people and events in the real world, and use them as ideas for plots, characters, etc. You can also look over very old newspapers for FREE at this site: Chronicling America – FREE Newspaper Archive

• Author Neil Gaiman said that you should go outside and look around you. Look at the people and places. Make up stories about them. (How did that homeless man end up on that bench? Why does that woman at the grocery store have such a very old purse? Where does that bolted & padlocked door go to? And so on.) He also suggested that you take a story you know, then “flip it on its head” and find a new way to tell it. Author Orson Scott Card once wrote: “Everybody walks past a thousand story ideas every day. The good writers are those who see five or six of them. Most people don’t see any.”
  
  Take a villain or a side character and make them the main character of a story; try telling it from their POV. Take someone you know and put them somewhere they could never actually go – the future, the past, another planet, etc. What would they do? How would they interact with the world around them?

To help yourself become more creative, listen to stand-up comedians or other comedy (whatever kind of humor that never fails to make you laugh out loud). “When people laugh, they can come up with new ideas.”

British Comic Actor John Cleese, quoting The Dalai Lama [Tenzin Gyatso]

“Stuck in Progress”

Sometimes walking away from a project for a bit helps you get past a point where you feel stuck. Remember that you don’t have to work on the same thing you started last week and have yet to finish. 

If you want to keep working on your current project, or are coming back to a manuscript you walked away from too long ago… Don’t be intimidated by the cursor blinking on your screen. Nothing stops you in your tracks like a blank screen. Type something, whether that’s a speech, some text from a book page– write anything, as long as you write something. 

Some writers find a great way to avoid writer’s block is to always finish their day’s writing by stopping in the middle of a sentence and a scene. They find it helps them to…

…Always have somewhere to start right up again, the next day.😉

If you’re still blocked while in the process of writing, here’s a trick:

1. Read over the last page you wrote. Then, delete (yes, delete) the last few sentences you wrote before getting stuck. Manually insert a new page.
2. On the new page, type something which has no relationship whatsoever to what you’re working on. Nothing should be there that reminds you of what you were originally planning to write. 
3. Walk away to get a cup of coffee, some tea, a soda, or a glass of water. Just be sure to physically leave the computer for a bit. Step outside whatever building you’re in and feel actual sunshine, then breathe in deeply some of the fresh air. Go for a walk (even if you don’t have a dog). Listen to relaxing music. Clean the house/apartment. (Personally, I find it very motivational and inspirational to think about all the housework I should be doing. It keeps me glued to my computer chair, typing furiously.)
4. Wait until you feel your head is clear, and you are no longer frustrated & focused on the thought of “I can’t”😩 before sitting down at your keyboard again. When you feel like you’ve forgotten what you just deleted, sit down and try writing again, starting on the new page. (No peeking at the old page until you’re able to write without feeling stuck.) 

Remember, you can always go back and edit the break between the pages so the two parts work together. It’s okay if they don’t blend into each other smoothly right away. Your goal here is to just get yourself jump-started again and get “un-stuck.”

Review Your Manuscript 

Sometimes the best way to get “un-stuck” when writing a book or starting up a new draft of any manuscript is to go back over what you’ve already done and review your work.

Again… Your first draft will never be your final draft. Don’t worry if things don’t seem perfect right away. Just get your ideas in text form, and edit things later to clean them up.

“Give someone a book, they’ll read for a day. Teach someone to write a book, and they’ll spend a lifetime mired in self-doubt.”

Anonymous

Some people make story outlines as a concise, brief list of bullet points, while others write a very long draft of their story to use as their outline. Others are “pantsers” (writing “by the seat of their pants”) and make no outline whatsoever. Whatever method you use, review your work to see if you’re missing anything and/or if anything is out of order. 

Sometimes writer’s block is simply that little voice in the back of your head telling you that you need to fix something.

Some people are “plotters & planners,” others are “pantsers.” Many writers don’t finish projects if they start out as “pantsers,” and can find themselves getting stuck more easily. If you can, try plotting out and outlining your stories before writing them.

A very good technique that helped me with fixing writer’s block was “Save the Cat.” It helped me get un-stuck when working on a second draft. At the time, I felt something was wrong with my plot, but I couldn’t define it. (Proving once again that even editors should never be their own editor!) Putting my book through the “Save the Cat! Beat Sheet” helped me to see that some things were in the wrong order, and specific aspects of my characters and story needed a lot more development. 

This video gives you an introduction to the basics of the method. There are books and articles online to study it in more detail. It doesn’t work for everyone and every story, but you might want to give it a try. 

Still Nothing?

After trying all of this, if you STILL can’t seem to put words to the page, let yourself have some creative time off, BUT keep your time allocated to writing. Use your writing time to work on the business aspects of writing: submit stories and articles to publishers, check up on old submissions, think of new ways to market your writing, check for new markets for your work, study the craft of writing, and so on. Just keep that time dedicated to your writing, in some form or another, so you won’t fall out of that self-disciplined writing time slot.  

Before too long, you will find yourself “back on the writing horse” and making great progress.

Articles and Videos of Interest

Below are some links to articles and videos that can help you stop writer’s block, study the writing craft, and learn to get your creative juices flowing regularly.  All of these YouTube accounts and blog sites are great for writers to browse through. They offer some very clear explanations of various aspects of the writing craft, from creating characters & plotting out stories to the steps involved in self-publishing, Be sure to check them out. 

“Perfecting Your Craft” (Reedsy)
https://blog.reedsy.com/category/perfecting-your-craft/

“How to Outline Your Novel with Save the Cat!” (Savannah Gilbo)
https://www.savannahgilbo.com/blog/plotting-save-the-cat

What to Do When You Need Ideas (Abbie Emmons)

How to Have Perseverance in Writing (K.A. Emmons)

Ray Bradbury’s Top Three Rules of Writing (“Man Carrying Thing”)

An Evening with Ray Bradbury (University of California Television – UCTV)

If you enjoyed this blog, please remember to “Like” it (click on the star below) and to “Like” any social media posts/comments where you saw this link. And don’t forget to “Follow” me here on WordPress, for more helpful and concise writing tips. Your positive feedback helps me to help more people online.

Thank you!

“Show and Tell” in Your Writing

One of the common problems I have been running across lately in my work as a freelance editor, is that there is a lot of “telling” in the writing, and not much “showing.” The writer “tells” us to be afraid, that the character is arrogant & mean, that the house is falling apart, etc. But the writer fails to create a sense of dread, wonder, and affection for the character.

Instead, the writer should be making the reader afraid, showing them the arrogance of the character and how dilapidated the house is, and so on.

For example, a writer who is only “telling” things might say, “The spooky old house was falling apart.”

But this is far too much “telling.” You have just told the reader that they are supposed to be afraid of the house, instead of creating a sense of dread and fear in them as you describe the house in better detail. The reader will not feel something just because you tell them to, you have to create that mood.

Also: How is it falling apart? Show how it is falling apart: describe the windows cracked, the rotten floorboards, the curtains ragged, the paint on the walls (inside and out) faded and chipping away, etc. Give them a specific image in their mind, so they can visualize the details.

You should also use sensory descriptors and imagery to create the mood and images you wish to convey. Use sensory descriptors to get the reader to feel the danger: sight, sound, smell, etc.

Some examples:

• The rustling of the leaves in the cold wind made him look over his shoulder. For a moment, the bizarre shapes of the gnarled, twisted branches as they shook in the wind made Peter imagine they were trying to grab at him from all sides.
• Suddenly, an overwhelming stench hit him. It was the smell of very rotten meat and organic decay. It was the smell of death. His stomach turned over, and he gagged, almost vomiting. The next thing he knew, the scent was gone and he could breathe again.
• A freezing wind blew out of the woods. It was unnaturally cold, even for this time of year, and was blowing in the opposite direction of the rain. It was as if the woods had a wind of its own. Holly felt the chill of it deep in her bones.

If possible, a writer should also evoke emotions and the readers’ own memories to help create a stronger image, and more powerful writing. Make the reader feel anger at the injustice of the villain’s actions against the hero (or another character), or comfortable & safe at the smell of pie cooking in a kitchen – just before you have the demonic-werewolf-ghost jump through the window and attack someone.

Another example: Instead of calling someone “villainous”, show us how they can be mean and evil. If a main character savagely kicks a homeless man who is merely sleeping in a freezing alleyway, for example, or laughs at the sight of a bully beating up a smaller child, we know that character is not one of the good guys. Such “Random Acts of Villainy” can be just as effective as “Random Acts of Kindness” in showing the reader who your characters are.

One of my favorite characters on TV is Adrian Monk. Every episode we are “shown” his major character traits: He has a keen eye for detail, and a passion to make things right in the world. The writers show this by giving him OCD, and grief over the murder of his late wife. His OCD causes him to notice details that pass by most people, but it is not focused solely on crime scenes: he also obsesses on the placement of every item in the room, the socks someone is wearing, the idea that he might have left his stove on back home, and so on.

The fact that he has an incredible eye for detail is shown to the viewer in countless situations.

Yes, you should have a list of descriptive terms for every character, but you should not share this list with your readers. Instead, try to demonstrate how each character is worthy of those descriptors.

EXAMPLES AND LINKS OF INTEREST:
“Improve Your Writing: Show, Not Tell” (Benjamin’s English) – Video

“How to Show, Not Tell, in Your Writing” (Quotidian Writer) – Video

“How to ‘Show Don’t Tell’ in Creative Writing” (Ignited Ink Writing) – Video

“The definitive guide to ‘show, don’t tell’ ” (The Writer Magazine)

“Why ‘Show, Don’t Tell’ is a Golden Rule of Creative Writing” (Writers.com)

“3 Simple Tips on the ‘Show, Don’t Tell’ Mantra” (Writers Edit)

“How To Show & Not Tell in Short Stories” (Writers Write)

“How to Balance ‘Show, Don’t Tell’ in Your Writing” (Well Storied)

“Show, Don’t Tell: What You Need to Know” (Jerry Jenkins)

“The Three Words That Almost Ruined Me As a Writer” (Literary Hub)

“My Golden Rules to ‘Show Don’t Tell’: 6 useful tips I use in my writing” (The Writers Cooperative)

“How to Show Not Tell in Writing With Exercises” (Self-Publishing School)

If you enjoyed this blog, please remember to “Like” it (click on the star below) and to “Like” any social media posts/comments where you saw this link. And don’t forget to “Follow” me here on WordPress, for more helpful and concise writing tips. Your positive feedback helps me to help more people online.

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Thank you!

The Grammar of Dialogue

(Original authors unknown, amalgamated from multiple memes and social media posts.)

“This is dialogue,” he said.

She whispered, “This is also dialogue.”

“Here is dialogue that got interrup–”

“This,” she added, “is a bit of dialogue split by a dialogue tag.”

“Here’s a complete sentence,” he said. “And this is a new sentence.”

“Here is some dialogue followed by an action.” She shrugged. “Now it’s a new sentence because the action separates the two parts of speech.”

“This is your daily, friendly reminder to use commas instead of periods during the dialogue of your story,” she said with a smile.

“Unless you’re following the dialogue with an action and not a dialogue tag.” He took a deep breath & sat back down after making the clarifying statement.

“However,” she added, shifting in her seat, “it’s appropriate to use a comma if there’s action in the middle of a sentence.”

“True.” She glanced at the others. “You can also end with a period if you include an action between two separate statements.”

If you enjoyed this blog, please remember to “Like” it (click on the star below) and to “Like” any social media posts/comments where you saw this link. And don’t forget to “Follow” me here on WordPress, for more helpful and concise writing tips. Your positive feedback helps me to help more people online.

Thank you!

The Best Writing Advice I Ever Heard: Read 100 Books

In all the writer’s workshops and classes I’ve attended, in all the conversations I’ve had with successful writers, the best piece of writing advice anyone has ever given me, was this:

READ 100 books in whatever genre you wish to write in.

Really… 100.

Only after doing so, did I really understand why the author had said that.

All of the great artists of history have at least one thing in common: They first studied the masters, before becoming masters themselves.

And by “studied,” I do not mean “glanced at” or “looked at for a long time.” I mean “studied” – they examined how the artist used colors, how the brushstrokes were done, how faces were drawn, the “shape” of the central image, the materials used to create the image, etc.

If you want to truly excel at writing, and if you want to be a successful paid author whose work is read and enjoyed by people outside of your own family, your best path is to read and study the masters of your craft.

Do more than merely read them. Analyze and study how the writer created the work. Write down your analyses so you can review and compare them later. To use an analogy from the art world again… Look at the “brushstrokes,” and think analytically about the “overall image.”

Some of the things to look for while reading analytically include:

• (Sub-)Genre: Which genre or sub-genre is the story? How is this (sub-)genre different from others that are similar to it? What basic genre elements are present? What is the order/pacing of those elements?
• “The Numbers”: How many pages, chapters (include if there there is any epilogue/prologue), estimated number of words (letters across a page, multiplied times lines of text, divide that by five, multiply this times number of pages of text), illustrations, etc.?

• What POV was used? If omniscient, how much omniscience is the reader allowed to experience? If first- or second-person, how does the author show what takes place out of sight of the narrator? Is only one POV used throughout?
• Characters:
  • How many characters are there (how many major characters, how many minor ones)?
  • How are they distinguished from one another?
  • What are their archetypes?
  • If characters are cultural or literary stereotypes, is it for comedic effect or another reason?
  • How they are described (physically and psychologically) and brought to life (how much detail is given for each of them, what foods they eat, their hobbies, etc)?
  • How are “good” characters made more/less “good” and likable vs. “bad guy” character?
  • How much time is spent describing characters/how much time are they “on screen/on stage” for the reader?
  • What kind of relationships they have with/to other characters?
  • What kind of lifestyles they live, what jobs they have?
  • What pets they have, if any, and how they relate to their pets (also: are the pets used to symbolize the characters’ traits in any way)?
  • Are there any aspects of the writing outside of the characters that are used to symbolize them and/or their character traits (such as a family crest with a snake for an evil character, a necklace with a cross for a religious character, a character who is destined to die pulls an ace of spades from a card deck, a painting on the character’s home of a person famous for being good/evil, etc)?

• Scenes and Settings: What kind of setting is the story, how it is described, why that setting is better for the story than others might be, number of settings used, etc.
• Plot:
  • What major plot points happen and when do they happen?
  • What plot devices are used (when, how introduced, what purpose for them…)?
  • When is each character and each plot device introduced in the plot arc?
  • How does each chapter begin & end (tone, is the reader left hanging mid-action, etc.)?
• Statements/Theme: What is the theme of the story? Does the story make any social or other kinds of statement – i.e., does it have a moral or a lesson taught? (This is not necessary in every kind of story, but some sub-genres do have this as one of the unwritten rules of their stories.)
• Tone:
  • How does the author create and maintain a mood: suspense, humor, reader interest, mystery, romance, etc?
  • How much sex/violence/mature material is used (if any)?
  • What kind of words & language are used (long/short sentences, little/lots of punctuation, colorful/plain words & terminology, idioms, colloquialisms, etc)?
  • How is comedy & humor used (if at all) in a non-humorous story, romance in a non-romantic story, and so on?
• Show vs Tell: How does the author show the reader things without saying them straight out? For example, instead of saying “Bob was scared”, the author should say how Bob was trembling, breathing heavily, wide-eyed, etc. Instead of saying “the forest was scary,” the author should show that wind in the trees whispering strangely, branches seeming to grab for people, wolves howling, etc.

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More on “Show vs Tell”:
https://annethewriter33.wordpress.com/2017/09/11/show-dont-tell-in-your-writing/

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• What symbolism & foreshadowing, if any, is used? How, where, when? Is it symbolic or obvious?
• Backstory/Descriptions: Most importantly, how does the author work descriptions and backstory without using obvious exposition and/or leaving the reader feel like they are being lectured at, and/or feeling like the story was rudely interrupted by the other information? Your writing should be smooth and flow comfortably. How do other authors achieve this?

For the first few dozen books, I took notes on everything. But I quickly discovered that it was impossible to analyze for ALL of these aspects at the same time. So I tried focusing on only a few of these criteria at a time. (This made it all the more important to read a full 100 books, as it turned out.) Reading all those books not only taught me to look for one of these criteria at a time, it taught me to see many of them as I read through books now. Reading so many of one genre also taught me that there is a formula for my intended genre, and that there can be SUB-genres within that overall classification, with their own specific requirements and rules.

For example, in most “Cozy Tea Mysteries,” the killer or villain of the book must appear anywhere by the end of the first three chapters, or at least have their name mentioned multiple times by that same point in the story. (Similarly, the killer in many hour-long “whodunit” TV crime shows tends to appear in the first ten minutes of the episode.) Most of the ones I read were told in the First Person POV, and a large number of them had female amateur detectives. The murder(s) tended to take place “off stage,” and gory & uncomfortable details were rarely used. There was almost never any sex scenes or excessive profanity. These criteria were not present every time, but they did tend to happen more often than not.

Some of these ideas were obvious by the time I was done with Book 20, but others didn’t become clear until I had finished Book 99.

So, yes… 100 books is a lot, but there’s a very good reason for the large number.

RECOMMENDED LINKS OF INTEREST

How to Analyze a Novel
https://courses.lumenlearning.com/introliterature/chapter/how-to-analyze-a-novel/

Analyzing Novels and Short Stories
https://writingcenter.tamu.edu/Students/Writing-Speaking-Guides/Alphabetical-List-of-Guides/Academic-Writing/Analysis/Analyzing-Novels-Short-Stories

How to Critically Analyze a Book
https://human.libretexts.org/Bookshelves/Literature_and_Literacy/Writing_and_Critical_Thinking_Through_Literature_(Ringo_and_Kashyap)/04%3A_About_Fiction-_Short_Stories_and_the_Novel/4.05%3A_How_to_Analyze_Fiction-_Elements_of_Literature

9 Elements You’ll Find in Every Story
https://blog.prepscholar.com/literary-elements-list-examples

Analyzing Literature
http://www.surfturk.com/advancedcomp/analyzeliteratureguide.html

How to Analyze Fiction
https://davehood59.wordpress.com/2010/01/28/how-to-analyze-fiction//

iWriterly Channel on YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/c/iWriterly

“Read Like a Writer”
https://youtu.be/E2NNupsc73Y

https://youtu.be/TTl2peOPuQk

https://youtu.be/ukoJ3efQmBg

If you enjoyed this blog, please remember to “Like” it (click on the star below) and to “Like” any social media posts/comments where you saw this link. And don’t forget to “Follow” me here on WordPress, for more helpful and concise writing tips. Your positive feedback helps me to help more people online.

Thank you!

Nusiddy

[Author’s Note: This bit of Cold War-era post-apocalyptic science fiction previously won the Carl H. Carlson Award for Best Short Story.]

The Lady sat at her desk, intent upon the work before her. Outside of her office, the ice-cold winds blew the poisoned dust through the afternoon blackness. Only the building walls stopped the wind from freezing the bare skin of her face. But even inside, she needed to wear a thick coat, hat, and gloves. She had another coat and scarf resting on the back of a nearby chair. Whenever she went out, she wore them over the coat and clothes that she already had on. Compared to the outside cold, the office seemed rather warm, but the summertime frost continued to fight its way deeper and deeper into the room. The Lady had thought about having the few windows in her office boarded up to help keep out the cold, since there was nothing to look at outside, anyway — now that what had once been the deepest blackness of night had become the brightest light of mid-day. But the Lady had thought that boarding up the windows would only be a symbol to the people of her city that she was shutting out the harsh realities of life after the Great Death, and she felt that it was her responsibility to stay both symbolically and literally open to raw facts.

She was staring down at a list. Her head was in her hands as she tried to decide who would have to die so that the city could live. She saw the answer to the problem, but she kept averting her eyes from the names of the people she knew — names that would never again be on the list for sacrifices.

The door opened suddenly, and the NatGuard Comm burst into the room. The Lady turned away from her unpleasant duties and forced a cheerful tone as she addressed him, ancient traces of a British accent occasionally pushing through her now Americanized English.

“Hayyuh, Leftent, what’s the matter?”

“Forgive me for disturbing you, Your Ladyship,” he said, “but there are some strange men at the city gate. They’re armed and say they’re in charge of the city.”

“Sounds to me like someone should explain the laws of Nusiddy to ’em.” The Lady stood up and began to put on her outer coat.

“We’ve tried, Ma’m, but they won’t give up their weapons.”

“How many are there?”

“From what the different Posts can see, there’s only ten. They’re armed to the teeth. Every one of ’em has three guns or more.”

“How many killed on our side?” she asked gravely.

“None,” replied the NatGuard Comm. “They haven’t fired a shot.”

“Ten men? They haven’t shot anybody and they wanna take over the city? That’s… that’s… ridiculous!”

“Your Ladyship,” the NatGuard Comm said gravely, “they’re Eastern Soldiers.”

“Ah, crikers!” The Lady said under her breath as she quickly threw herself out the door.

Two NatGuard escorts were waiting for them as they hurried out of the building. The Lady was far ahead of the NatGuard Comm, and he had to run to keep up with her fast walk. As the Lady’s short legs stretched to their limit, her ancient sneakers somehow allowed her to keep her footing on the sheet of ice that people used as a road. The beam from the NatGuard Comm’s huge flashlight jumped back and forth across the blackness in front of them as they hurried past the few buildings between the Lady’s office and the city’s Main Gate.

Ahead of them, spotlights fought to shine through the ebony of noon and onto the men outside the gate. The Lady couldn’t have seen the light very easily had she looked up from the ground, since the blackness quickly smothered any light that tried to escape. Only when the light was almost on top of her did she notice it.

She looked through the Main Gate, which was actually just a small doorway, and she saw the ten men standing directly under the spotlight. Their clothes were so dirty and worn that they could barely be recognized as uniforms at all. The dirt and obvious wear was not limited to the clothes, but it also covered the men themselves. The little bits of their faces that were exposed to the deadly weather blended in with the filthy rags and remnants of uniforms that were rapped around them. Each of them held a rifle or a machine gun, and each of them had more than one extra gun at his side. The guns they carried were quite varied in appearance, and even the Lady, with her limited knowledge of weaponry, could recognize them all as American made. What intrigued the Lady most was that she couldn’t see any ammunition anywhere on them. While she would have expected to see some strapped across their shoulders or around their waists where it could be easily accessed in the case of a gunfight, there was none to see.

She smiled at them through the opening of the doorway. At first, her smile was like one a mother wears when she is very amused by her children, but she quickly changed it to a friendly, diplomatic smile.

“Hayyuh, Gentlemen,” she said. “Welcome to our little piece of civilization. I’m the organizer of this place and these people. This place’s called Nusiddy and I’m the Lady in Charge. C’n I ask who you all are?”

Without hesitating, one of the men took a stop away from the rest and bowed.

“How do you do?” he said, his voice filled with a gentle Slavic accent. “I am called Lieutenant Vladimir Parchenko, and this is Commander Tarkoff.” He motioned to a very rigid man standing just to his right and a bit behind him.

“How d’ you do?” The Lady had to call the words out from deep within her memory before she could get her mouth to say them. She fought to keep her wits about her and continued.

“I dunno if any of the NatGuards ‘ve told you, but the laws of Nusiddy strictly forbid anyone who is not a NatGuard or a Hunter from carrying weapons while inside the city. You can come in, but not with your guns or any other weapons that you may have. That includes bows-and-arrows, knives, and any other kind of blades. In order to enter the city, you have to leave your weapons with the GateGuards. You have my word that anything the GateGuards take will be given back to you in the same condition you turned it over, if you decide to leave the city fer good.”

There was a long awkward silence as the Lady waited for a reply to her speech. After the silence seemed to last too long, the Lady asked slowly, “Did you understand what I just said?”

The Lieutenant smiled kindly. “I understood everything you said. But I think that you are the one that does not understand. We now are the law of this city. I am…” He paused, as if searching for a word. “I am honored to be able to say that this city is now ruled by the people. In the name of the Eastern Republics and their allies, I say to you that..all people now here are free from the capitalist and imperialist forces which have been keeping them…prisoner these many years.”

“If it’s a choice of being ruled by capitalism and imperialism or neo-commie crapola—” one GateGuard began, but the Lady forcefully interrupted him.

“You say that this city is now ruled by the people. I’m afraid you’ll have t’ wait so that you can make that official. Everybody will have t’ be told that you’re freeing them from capitalistic imperialism. Then they can vote on whether or not they want you to free them.”

Parchenko was no longer smiling. “Do not change what I say! I hope you know that we have enough guns to kill you and all of your…NatGuards, too. I do not think that these people can make the right choice, since they have probably been told lies and made to believe them, even after your people began this insanity with your bombs.”

One of the GateGuards drew a rusty Ginsu kitchen knife from its makeshift scabbard on his belt. “We started this? You bombed us first, you black-marketeering bastard!”

He was furious and ready to single-handedly take on all ten men at the door, but the Lady held him back with only her voice.

“No!” she said quietly. “No one really knows who pushed the button first. Besides, there’s been ‘nough fighting.”

She turned her attention back to the Lieutenant. “If you had ‘nough amm’nition, you’d ‘ve done more than just stand outside the door trying t’ look pretty. The way I figger it, you’re either here for food, or you’re tryin’ t’ take us over t’ get revenge. As for your government, I don’t think they sent you. ‘Cause if by some chance there still is some kind of country over there that has some kind of government, I don’t think they’d send out a couple of handfuls of obviously starvin’ men, especially when those men could only scare the enemy and not do any real fightin’. I have t’ admit, I never thought much of your Republics or their allies, but even they have t’ know better than t’ try a stupid stunt like this. Now, I dunno ’bout you felluhs, but the warmest part uh me right now is just as cold as the air outside. You all may have on the kinds of clothes that can keep you warm, but I doubt even the warmest clothes can easily argue with takin’ this discussion inside.”

“That is a good idea, madam.” The Lieutenant motioned to the other soldiers and they started to walk into the city. But the Lady and her NatGuard stood between them and the door, and they had barely taken a few steps when the Lady threw her left hand high up toward the spotlights and held it frozen in midair.

Each soldier was suddenly the target of a dozen NatGuards. A handful of the NatGuards were ones that the soldiers had been able to see, but many more had stayed out of sight and pulled out whatever weapons they had in reply to the Lady’s signal. Some had guns, and others had long knives that served as swords, but most had bows with arrows cocked and ready to fight their way through the frozen winds. A few NatGuards were near the Lady, but more had surrounded the visitors.

Now the Lady smiled broadly. This time, she didn’t seem to try to hide her amusement. The Easterners had played out their hand and lost. Now she was almost certain to win. The soldiers had pulled such an awful and obvious bluff that she was positive they wouldn’t see through her own ruse. She smiled even wider as the soldiers were starting to show their fear. Even their Commander seemed to have been taken completely be surprise.

She kept her gloved hand motionless in the air. “I just have t’ throw my hand back down and my NatGuards will open fire on all uh you. You won’t even have time t’ try an’ fight back. So you’ll all step through this door one at a time and hand over any weapons you have t’ the NatGuards inside. And when I say ‘weapons’, I don’t just mean guns, but knives, thick sticks, and anything else you could use t’ fight. You’ll then be asked t’ take off all your clothes and put on things you’re given. Once you’re inside, if you cooperate, you’ll be treated like welcome visitors and not prisoners.”

“We will freeze if we undress!” one of the soldiers objected, but was interrupted by the Lieutenant.

“And if we do not do as you say we will be killed, eh?”

“Really, Ivan, you are a smart one…for a Blocker.” The Lady pulled her scarf off of her head, so that only her neck was covered. Her eyes were still hidden by a strange pair of goggles that were made of one-way reflective plastic. Her goggles made her appear inhuman, like a walking dead woman or a robot without a soul. Since her eyes could not be seen, each soldier could believe that she was looking directly at him. They all gazed nervously back at her.

“My name is not Ivan,” he replied. “None of these men are named Ivan.”

“A Slav by any other name…” the Lady said. The NatGuard Comm smirked as she continued. “I don’t give a damn. All I know is that it’s too damn cold out here t’ stand around arguing with Blockers. I’m going inside. You’ll do what my people tell you — no matter what. If you’re good little boys, I might even feed you.”

She turned around sharply and left. Her steps were strong and certain and she never glanced back at the soldiers. After the City Door had been closed behind her, the Lady quickly made her way to the top of one of the buildings that served as a watchtower. Every muscle in her face was tight, and her face was suddenly very serious as she watched the soldiers hand over their weapons and enter the bottom of the watchtower one by one. She saw them again as they stepped out the other side, slouched low with their heads hung toward the ground. She never took her eyes away from them until the last of them had been quickly escorted deep into the living darkness within the City’s walls.

After only a few of the soldiers had disappeared into the tower, a nearby NatGuard said, “It’s about time we got ’em! Now we can give ’em back some uh the misery they gave us.”

“How’s ’bout makin’ ’em our slaves?” said another enthusiastically.

“Yeah!” the first one replied, his voice full of bitter anger. “That’s sure what they deserve.”

“How ’bout you, yer Ladyship?” inquired a third. “What you plannin’ on doin’ with ’em?”

The Lady stood silent for a few moments until all the soldiers had left into the darkness, then replied, “I know you’re probably expecting me to cheer, but I don’t feel too much like cheering right now. In fact, I don’t feel much like anything.”

The NatGuards quickly sobered up.

“But what ‘re yuh gonna do t’em?” the third asked.

“What I have t’ do,” she replied, her voice weak and sad.

They all stood silent for a short time. Then, as the wind seemed to blow even stronger and colder, the Lady turned to face them. All hints of sadness and regret were gone. Her body was rigid again, and her hands were once more clasped together behind her back. She stood like a military officer would have stood had the eyes of his men been inspecting his every move. The tilt of her head showed that her gaze was fixed on a spot far above the heads of the three NatGuards. Her lips were pressed tightly together. When she parted them to speak again, the men could all see her lips turn red as blood returned to them once more.

“I’ll do what I have t’ do,” she repeated, this time with more strength in her voice. “And what I have t’ do is make sure that we survive.” She lowered her head. To the men, it seemed as if she were not only looking at them, but straight through them, as well. “Keep a good eye on ’em. They may act dumb, but I’m not willing t’ take any chances that they’re just acting.”

For a while, the goggles had hidden the fact that she had been crying, but as the tears escaped their cover and began to flow down her chin, she quickly walked out of the tower without wiping them away. She kept her head straight back until she was out of the NatGuards’ sight. Then she let herself slump and deeply sobbed. She walked so slowly that she was almost standing still. Her feet seemed to constantly stumble and she felt her way along the wall and into an alley. There, she began to run. The Lady had not gotten far when she doubled over and threw up.

For a long time she just stood there, bent over and holding on to her stomach. Close behind her, near the entrance to the alleyway, a NatGuard appeared. He did nothing to help her or even let her know that he was there; he merely stood silently until a citizen showed up and tried to see what was happening. Menacingly, the NatGuard explained to the hapless bystander that she wouldn’t miss anything important if she left right away. The citizen reluctantly went, but only after the NatGuard told her it was just another citizen with RadDeath.

Finally, when the Lady had stopped heaving and gagging, the NatGuard came closer and stood next to her. He offered her his scarf so she could wipe her mouth, but the Lady refused.

“No thanks,” she said. “I’ve got my own.”

She wiped her mouth with one end of her scarf, and her forehead with the other. When she took off her goggles, the NatGuard politely turned his gaze away from her dark, sunken eyes.

“I’m not sure if it’s the RadDeath or my disgust at what I’m doing that makes me barf,” she said. “If it’s the RadDeath then I’ll welcome it.”

The NatGuard didn’t answer. He couldn’t be sure if she had been talking to him or to herself.

The Lady put her goggles back on. “Come on!” she snapped at him. She walked out of the alley as if nothing had happened.

Silently, the NatGuard followed her.

As she sat at the head of the biggest table in the city, the Lady merely watched the soldiers eat. They looked pitiful, like a bunch of starving dogs with their tales between their legs. They slouched and didn’t look up at anything. If the Blockers hadn’t been wolfing down their food as quickly as they couldn, she might have thought they were all sulking.

The Lady could only push the food on her plate around. Even though it had been more than a full day since she had thrown up, she still felt sick. Parchenko looked up and noticed that she had not eaten anything. He gaped at her.

“Is meat so…so…ordinary here that you can waste it?” he asked with amazement.

“No,” the Lady replied. “If I don’t eat this then it’ll be given t’ somebody else.”

“But…but why do you not eat? Are you not hungry? Byog! If only I could remember what it is like to have a full stomach!”

“My stomach isn’t full. I’ve been sick lately.”

The visitors that were closest to her moved as far away from her as possible. “Chumyah!” said on of the soldiers under his breath.

“What is it?…What did he say?”

“Madam,” Parchenko said coldly. “It is…horrible of you to do this to us. No matter what our people did to your people, it is horrible of you to do this to us.”

“What?” she exclaimed, now thoroughly bewildered.

“Do not think that we are fools. You are trying to give us your plague.”

“There’re no plagues in this city. I’ve done everything in my power t’ make sure uh that. It’s just RadDeath.”

“RadDeath?” Now it was Parchenko’s turn to be puzzled.

“It used to be called ‘radiation sickness,’ but now we just call it RadDeath,” she answered calmly.

Parchenko’s voice was surprisingly soft and kind as he said, “You talk so easily about this RadDeath.”

“Some wise person once said that ‘Death is the fate of us all.’ “

“Da,” said Parchenko, “but do you not want to keep living so that you can pass on your knowledge to the children? Do you not want to fight death for the sake of those to come, so that they may have a better life?”

“Lieutenant, I’m sorry t’ hear that you think about future generations.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry? I do not understand.”

“I guess you don’t know…Ever since the bombs dropped, any children that are born are badly retarded or deformed. Any children that they might possibly have someday are sure t’ be even more horribly deformed than they are and probably won’t live t’ see a first birthday.” She paused, letting it sink in. “So yuh see, Lieutenant, there are no future generations.”

Once more they all sat silently. On the faces of some of the soldiers there was anger, and on others there was pain, but most of the soldiers didn’t seem to care. They sat like this for a long time, until Parchenko once more broke the silence. His voice was cracked, as if he had been crying.

“Why do you feed us, then? Why even…be as kind to us as you have?…Why go on at all?”

The Lady didn’t answer, and just dropped her gaze to her plate.

“Pocheh’my?” Parchenko almost screamed with hysteria. “Why?”

“My friend, I have often asked myself that very same question. As for me, I know that there are some people who wanna keep on living, and they need me t’ help them survive.”

“And us?…My friends and I? You think these people need us, too, so that they can live?”

The Lady’s response was almost inaudible. “Yes.”

“So, we must live whether we want to or not?”

Before she replied, the Lady quietly waved to one of the NatGuards standing at the door and held up most of her fingers. “You don’t have t’ live so they can live. You can if you want, but you don’t have to.”

“I do not want to live for them.” Parchenko was openly weeping as he spoke. “I only want to live if there is hope…If there is no hope then I do not want to live… If there is no hope then I do not want to live…If there is…I do not want…I do not…” His voice faded into deep sobs.

“Then you don’t have t’ live.” The Lady spoke quietly and then lifted her head and spoke louder. Her voice was strong again, but occasionally cracked. “Carve him up.”

Before anyone could say anything, a small group of NatGuards rushed through the door and surrounded Parchenko. They grabbed him and carried him out the door. Some of the other soldiers jumped to their feet, but most stayed seated. The eyes of the men who hadn’t gotten up were still chronically empty.

“Carve them up, too,” the Lady ordered. “But keep them alive until we need ’em, then be sure to do ’em like animal meat. Nobody should have t’ think about what they’re eating. I don’t want what happened a couple uh weeks ago t’ happen again.”

Suddenly, she stood up and left the room. The NatGuard Comm started after her, but stopped before he had gotten very far. The sound of the Lady’s dry heaving echoed through the hallway and into the dining room, so he turned back to take charge of the prisoners.

“She is sick in her head like she is sick in her belly!” yelled one of the soldiers while he was being led away. “You are all sick in your heads!”

One of the NatGuards took an old table leg from where it hung on his belt and smacked it across the objector’s head. The soldier went limp and his blonde hair was soon reddened with blood. The NatGuard started dragging him out just as the Lady was coming back into the room.

“Why’d yuh do that?” she asked the NatGuard with the table leg. “He was right.”

A few of the NatGuards stared at her with polite disapproval.

“Besides,” she said, catching herself, “he could’ve been killed and then we’d have t’ carve him up. That’d leave us with too much meat for the next couple of days.”

The NatGuard Comm was about to reply, when a large piece of the wall blew inward, letting the frozen gusts of the evening shoot through the room unhindered.

“Close that up!” the NatGuard Comm had to yell to be heard over the howling of the deadly wind.

The Lady stood silent and stiff, while her once-young face was bombarded with snowflakes that hit like bullets.

As the NatGuards tried to cover up the gaping hole in the wall, the Lady talked unnoticed to herself.

“Leave it open. It’s warmer out there than it is in here.”

But the NatGuards kept working, too busy with survival to hear her.

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Marcus and the Wee Folk (A New Fairy Tale)

Many, many years ago, in the Scottish village of Kilkenning, there lived a lad by the name of Markus McAllum who was the village idiot (for in those days they had such people and did not think it unkind to call them that). Markus was a dear sweet lad, and well-loved by everyone in the village — especially his dear old mother, who lived with him in a wee cozy cottage not far from the edge of a forest.

One late Autumn, with the coming of the cold winds, Markus McAllum’s mother asked him to go out and find some logs and kindling for the fire.

“Now Markus,” said his mother with great patience (for she was a good and loving mother), “Ye know well what firewood looks like, ye can carry a good weight, and you’ve good eyes. So, I want you to go out into the edge of the woods and pick up what wood ye c’n find. Pick up some sticks, aye, but also tote home some logs about so big around.” She held up her hands for him to see.

“But mother, what if I canna find a stick?”

“Then Markus, you must break it from the branches of the trees.”

“But mother, what if I canna find a log?”

“Then, Markus, you must cut down a tree that is about as big ‘round, and cut it up.” His mother handed him an axe, and covered the blade of it so that he could not hurt himself.

“But mother, how can I cut it with that cloth on the axe?”

“When you have a need for cutting a tree down, you must take the cloth off the axe. And when you’ve done, put it back on a’gin.”

So Markus McAllum, being the good and loyal son that he was, set off into the edge of the forest. After many hours of searching, he could find no sticks, so he broke a small branch off of a nearby tree. As he plucked the twig from the tree, he pulled down upon the branch, so that when the twig broke off, the tree pulled back.

“Poor tree!” cried Markus, “I’ve harmed ye, poor creature! For though I am simple, tis plain to see twas pain that caused you to pull away!”

With a tear in each eye, Markus broke off a piece of string from his shirt, and ever-so-gently tied the wee twig back onto the branch and kissed it where it was tied.

“There now, poor creature, I hope this makes amends between us.”

And off he went to search upon the ground some more. As he went deeper into the forest, he found more twigs and brackle upon the ground, and put it all neatly into the bag upon his back.

Soon his bag was full of brackle and the sun was getting low in the sky. Now Markus McAllum was not a’feared of missing his step and tripping on a stone in the dark, for his mother had taught him well that the Bible speaks of angels guarding a Christian boy’s steps. But even Markus McAllum knew that it was nay safe to be in the woods in the dark, what with the Wee Folk who came out under the moon to torment poor travelers. He knew he needed to be on his way home, and he had nay found a single log fer the fireplace.

He looked about and found a tall, thin tree that looked quite dead.

“Surely,” thought Markus to himself, “I canna harm a dead thing.”

So, he took the cloth off of the axe and threw the blade into the bottom of the tree. The tree, as trees are wont to do when hit with an axe, shook as he hit it.

“Poor tree!” cried Markus, “I’ve harmed ye, poor creature! For though I am simple, tis plain to see twas pain that caused you to shiver that way!”

With a tear in each eye, Markus tore off a piece of his shirt and ever-so-gently tied it around the piece of the tree where his axe had left a mark. He kissed the tree just above his piece of shirt.

“There now, poor creature, I hope this makes amends between us.”

With head hung low, Markus McAllum headed home. He had found no logs for his mother, and even he knew she would sleep colder because of it.

Now Markus, being a simple fellow, could keep no more than one thought in his head at a time, and so he had quite forgotten to put the cloth back onto his axe blade, as his mother had told him he should. As he walked, the axe fell from his grip and landed on the very wee tip of a field mouse’s tail. The mouse, as mice are wont to do when their tails are cut, squeeked in pain.

“Poor Mousie!” cried Markus, “I’ve harmed ye, poor creature! For though I am simple, tis plain to see twas pain that caused you to squeek that way!”

With a tear in each eye, Markus tore off a tiny piece of his shirt and ever-so-gently tied it around the end of the mouse’s tail.

“There now, poor creature, I hope this makes amends between us.”

Quite suddenly, one of the Wee Folk sprang out from behind a tree and stood right before Markus McAllum.

“I have been watching you,” said the Wee Man, “and I have seen your kind and gentle soul as ye have dealt with all those of this wood. What’s your name, lad?”

“My name is Markus McAllum.”

“And why, Markus McAllum, do you carry all those wee twigs upon your back?”

“My mother has told me to gather wood for the fire.”

“And this, you think, will keep her warm?” Before Markus could answer, the Wee Man laughed so hard that he fell over on his back. When he finally stopped laughing, Markus ever-so-gently helped him to his feet. “Go home, Markus McAllum, and do nae worry about wood for yer fire tonight nor any night. I shall get it fer ye.”

Now, even Markus McAllum knew better than to refuse a gift from one of the Wee Folk, and even Markus McAllum knew to be polite at all times. “Thank you so much,” said he and hurried home, where he found a large pile of firewood outside the window of the wee cozy cottage that he shared with his mother.

Into the house he ran. He told his mother about the branch, and the thin tree that shook, and the mousie, and the Wee Man, and the pile of firewood outside their window.

“Markus, dear heart,” said his mother patiently, “that canna be. For I have been sitting here these many hours looking out of that same window, and I have neither heard nor seen a thing.”

“But, mother, ‘tis there! Come see!”

She, being the good and loving mother that she was, went with Markus McAllum to see outside their door. And what was there for her to see but a pile of firewood as tall as the house, piled so that all the side of the wee cozy cottage was nearly covered by it, but the window’s view was quite clear.

That night, they burned one log in their fire, and that log lasted throughout that night and well into the next day. And it was so with every piece of wood they took from that pile from that day forth. Each time the pile was low, it was raised again with the same silence and stealth as it was the first time.

After a time of this, Markus McAllum began to leave out food and drink when the pile was low. “Because,” he said, “the Wee Folk are probably worked quite out of breath after such a thing.”

And each time he leaves it out, the food is ett, and the dishes are neatly placed on the windowsill, cleaned and polished.

If you enjoyed this blog, please remember to “Like” it (click on the star below) and to “Like” any social media posts/comments where you saw this link. And don’t forget to “Follow” me here on WordPress, for more helpful and concise writing tips. Your positive feedback helps me to help more people online.

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“Cheap at the Beginning Makes for Expensive in the End” (A Commentary on Self-Editing Your Manuscript)

“A man who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client,” Abraham Lincoln once said. In that same vein, it can also be said that “A writer who is his own editor invariably looks foolish as an author.”

Or, to quote another adage, “Cheap at the beginning makes for expensive in the end.”

Three to five cents (USD) per word is a not-uncommon fee for freelance editors. So paying for a professional editor can be expensive, especially for a first-time author. A book that is 75,000 words in length might cost as much as $3,750 for one round of editing, depending on the kind of editing you’re having done (at least two rounds is recommended by some editors).

How Much Does an Editor Cost? What to Expect for Pro Services – Reedsy

When “Inexpensive” Becomes “Overworked and Underpaid” – Nikki Auberkett | Pen & Quill

Costs like this can make the idea of “self-editing” your manuscript or using only editing software very tempting.

But before you toss away the idea of paying for an editor, consider this…

An author of my acquaintance online (I’ll call him “Bob”) was able to self-publish a novel he had long been wanting to see in print. This author claimed he had already been published professionally by a traditional publisher, so he certainly would have dealt with the publishing industry— including editors— before.

All throughout his draft-writing process, he made lots of comments on many social media posts (whenever writers were asking about hiring an editor). “Bob” repeatedly said that editors cost too much, and that writers should try to “self-edit.” He praised the capabilities of editing software. He told countless writers that “self-editing” was not only possible, but just as effective as a professional editor, and perfectly acceptable for self-publishing. “Bob” made himself quite the advocate for this, in spite of the many times when myself and others tried to explain that editors do far more than merely spell-check, and do far more than any app or other computer software could do.

Recently, “Bob” self-published that book. It was a story he had been wanting to write for a long time. He paid money he said he could not really afford, to have 10,000 copies printed up and have the e-book posted online. (I suspect he was vanity published, despite his claims otherwise.)

He went on social media, spending the entire morning promoting his new book online.

Because it was my favorite genre, and I rarely get to read many new authors writing in that genre, I was looking forward to reading it. As soon as I read his announcement about his new book, I downloaded it and began to read.

…And instantly became so very embarrassed for his sake.

While there were almost no spelling errors, it was rife with punctuation issues. The first few pages alone had several sentences that were confusing and poorly worded. His first chapter was basically an “information dump,” without any characters being introduced, and was incredibly uninteresting. Even the paragraph-long synopsis for his dust jacket had numerous errors, and was not engagingly written the way a promotional blurb should be, in order to get people to buy the book. The book was painful to read, and I didn’t even get past the first chapter.

While I was trying to figure out how to tell him that his dream book was… not the best quality work, I went onto his first post where he had announced the release of his new book, less than a few hours before. I saw that a few other people had already politely and gently told him it was not as well written as he thought, and desperately needed a good editor. Some were not very kind about it at all.

“Bob” was floored.

Now that he had some of the problems with his book pointed out to him and could see them more clearly, the reality of his situation was sinking in. “Bob” had invested a lot of his own money, and had 10,000 printed copies of a book that was an embarrassment to any professional author. He would have to either eat the huge loss or continue to humiliate himself online, in hopes of making a few sales.

He chose to delete his promotional posts, stop promoting his book, and slink off into the sunset by leaving social media for awhile. (Apparently, he didn’t believe in doing things by halves.)

This scenario is a too-common occurrence. Writers try to be cheap and apply “do it yourself” mentality to publishing, or just don’t realize the vital and incredibly powerful role editors play in the publishing process. However, this time, this writer’s humiliation was even worse. Remember, this particular writer had gotten on social media on numerous occasions, claiming that “self-editing” is more than sufficient for self-publishers. And now “Bob’s” hubris-driven blunder was out there on the internet for everyone to see.

To make matters even worse, this author who had repeatedly claimed he was publishing his latest book as a professional, now had a book that made him look like a vanity-press-printed amateur.

Don’t get me wrong. “Bob” is a good writer. Overall, his ideas and stories are very good. He has a quick wit and a great sense of humor in his blogs & posts. So it’s quite believable that he has indeed been traditionally published before. But submitting to traditional publishers is very different than self-publishing.

A Submissions Editor at a publishing house expects to see an unpolished work. They expect to have their editorial staff go through every manuscript and make lots of changes, with several rounds of edits, before allowing it anywhere near the printing press. So submitting an unedited (or “self-edited”) manuscript to a traditional publisher is perfectly acceptable.

However, in self-publishing, your initial readers are Joe and Jane Average. They expect (and very rightly so) that every book they download or buy at a store will have been written and perfected, prior to their reading the opening sentence. They expect (again, rightly so) the same quality of writing and professional publishing that they would get from a book published by any of “The Big Five” publishing houses.

Your book is competing in the same marketplace as books that have been through several rounds of editing, beta readers, and marketing professionals. A lot of money was invested in those books, and they are your competition.

So for you, a writer looking at venues for your book, this means that you must ask yourself:

Can you afford to be a professional author while self-publishing, or should you submit your work to traditional publishers?

Because if you can’t afford to pay for a good editor to polish your manuscript, then— to be brutally honest— you either don’t want to be taken seriously as a professional author, or you just don’t belong in self-publishing.

However… This is not to say you don’t belong in print. As I said before, traditional publishing is a great option for the beginning writer with no editorial budget– the best option, in my opinion. The publisher there will pay for the editor to go over your work, market your book for you, and you always receive some kind of payment for the time you spent writing (this is never the situation with self-publishing). The person first reading your manuscript at these places expects grammatical imperfection, and is looking at the overall quality of your story and use of language.

Remember: If a company is promising to do all the editing & printing, while also charging you a lot of money to “publish” your book, they’re probably a “vanity press” and definitely a SCAM. You will pay far less to hire a freelance editor and publish your book for yourself online.
RUN AWAY!

Yes, traditional publishers will probably reject your manuscript at first— and if you wisely and stubbornly keep sending it back out the door, various publishers will probably reject it more than a few times. But if you research which imprint/publisher you are submitting to and how your manuscript fits into their image & product offerings, and if you write a good query letter, then a good writer stands a good chance of being published (and polished) without paying out of your own savings to do so.

…And you will never have a book on the market that makes you look like an amateur hack.

Anne Fisher-Ahlert is a freelance editor who is happy to look over several pages of your manuscript for free, in order to demonstrate how much you need an editor, and with hopes that you will hire her. Anne’s email is Anne_Ahlert@Yahoo.com .

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Harlan Ellison’s First Day of School

Some years ago, I was fortunate enough to be able to see the late great Harlan Ellison in person at a convention. He told a simple but delightful story about his first day of school, which perfectly illustrated his love of stories, reading, and learning in general…

Harlan had learned to read long before going to school, and was a voracious reader of anything he could find. His parents did not stifle his love of reading, but instead allowed him to read any book or story for any age.

When it came time for his first day of school, his mother walked him to school. He was very excited. He’d been told school was a place of learning, so he had imagined rooms full of books and books and books, all over the walls, like a huge library.

His was deeply confused and disappointed when he got to his assigned classroom. There were only a few pictures books; mostly there were toys, some desks, and other kids playing on a colorful rug.

Where were all the books of learning?

Bored, and unwilling to socialize with the other kids, he sat down at the teacher’s desk and began to read the adult-level paperback she had set there at some point.

Before too long, the teacher came up to him and tried to get him to join the other kids and sit at his desk.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m reading.”

(In his household, he had been taught it was always impolite to interrupt someone when they are reading.)

The teacher persisted, and used a firmer tone, telling him he really needed to go sit down.

“Excuse me,” he said again. “I’m READING.”

Well, his poor mother, who had walked him to school, had no sooner walked in the door to her house, when she heard the phone ring.

The school was calling, asking her to come in and speak to the Principal about her son. So she had to walk all the way back.

(I take it from his narrative at the time, that this was not a small distance.)

When she got there, the Principal told her that her son had been repeatedly lying to the teacher.

“Harlan,” his mother asked, “What did you say?”

“I just told her I was reading,” insisted young Harlan.

The Principal chimed in. “Well, that’s the problem, you see. He had a grown-up book and insisted he was reading it.”

“But he CAN read it,” said his mother.

The Principal obviously did not believe it.

His mother took a thick book from the Principal’s desk. “Here, Harlan. Read to the man.”

So Harlan proceeded to read out loud from a thick, adult book, without pause or problem.

That was his first and last day of Kindergarten.

They put him into the First Grade, only because school rules did not allow any higher promotion than one grade level.

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Promoting Your Book on Social Media

Many writers, including those who are on just one social media platform, either ignore opportunities for promotion, or make amateur mistakes in using it. Social media can be a very cost-effective and cheap way to promote your work.

While it helps to have an existing following on social media, it’s not required. You can quickly and easily set up new accounts, or even build old ones to be much better at promoting your work.

Unless you are writing books on the subject of politics, or writing crude comedy, keep accounts non-political, professional-looking, and polite. Have people who do not know you review any of your existing accounts you would like to use to promote your work. Ask them if they think book promo would be too incongruous to the other posts in that account, or get buried in any chatter. Also ask them if they think your profile does not look like that of a professional writer. (Get rid of those “drunk at a party” posts, and pictures of you showing off your abs.)

Your account and profile should reflect the image you would like to see from someone who is writing your books.

If necessary, create a second new account on a platform you are already on, to avoid offending or alienating potential sales, and to keep your public image professional.

Post on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram too. Those are hot promotional platforms now, and you should be on multiple platforms. Decide what the demographics of your target readership is, and use the appropriate platforms. For example, young adults are very active on Instagram, adults prefer Facebook, LinkedIn is good for business professionals & writer’s groups, and Twitter is very popular for political discourse. You should not avoid a platform if its largest audience is not your target demographic (their audiences are not exclusively one demographic or another), but you should be aware of their demographics & consider how to use their strengths to your advantage.

Make an effort to post/tweet/retweet at least once every day or two, in order to build followers. (You don’t have to write an original post every day. You can retweet or share posts from other people. Just be sure to stick to subjects & share things that your target readership would enjoy.) The point is to keep your account active and in other people’s feed, as well as getting the attention of new followers.

Be sure to use a social media management app to monitor who is following/unfollowing you on any platform, but especially on Twitter.

Twitter’s analytics (computer-programmed mathematical formulas that control their platform) requires a balance between followers/following numbers. If your ratio is off by too much, you become unable to follow new people (this phenomenon is known as being in “Twitter Jail”).

Always unfollow accounts that have not followed you back in a long time, or who are only following you in order to build their own numbers. Monitor & check every day or two who has unfollowed you, so you can quickly identify and unfollow such accounts.

Twitter has “Follow Back” parties for some subjects, such as politics or SciFi fandom, connected via hashtags. Learn to use these to build followers quickly, BUT do not use them to gain followers dishonestly. (For example, don’t get followers in a political follow party if you are using your account solely to promote a romance novel.)

Some writer groups on social media (especially on Facebook) have certain days of the week assigned to allow you to self-promote for free. Check group rules, and join as many of those as possible.

Learn to use hashtags (such as #SciFi #Zombies #TeenMystery or #Supernatural ) in Twitter, Facebook, and especially Instagram. Try to relate your posts/tweets to trending/popular hashtags (like #50Shades #StarWars #TalkLikeAPirateDay #MeToo #adulting etc). People browse social media using hashtags, and using them increases your chances of having your posts seen, read, and shared.

Whenever possible, find a way to use an image or gif in your posts/tweets. These tend to get noticed better. It’s okay to use memes or clipart sometimes; don’t use only your book cover all the time.

Try to write/retweet posts that people will want to share. This also increases your visibility and publicity.

This all might seem like a lot of work, but once you get the hang of it, this should all take just a few minutes of each day to promote your work, build an online presence, and build sales.

Just don’t get pulled in to spending valuable writing time, by hanging out on social media instead. It can be very addictive.😉

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Dropping the F-Bomb: A Book Lover’s Memory

When I was a pre-teen, way back in the 1970s, my mom bought me a paperback, that I think was the one pictured, called “Super-Cops: The True Story of the Cops Called Batman and Robin.” We both thought it was about Superheroes.

It turned out to be a tough-guy cop book, about mean-street police partners. They loved using the F-bomb.

After several chapters, I decided I should probably know what that meant, since they used it so often. (Remember, this was the 1970s, and I lived in a small town.) So I walked up to my mom, who was washing dishes at the time, and innocently asked her what it meant.

She was shocked, and asked me what I said. Her tone said I might be in trouble, but I repeated it anyway.

She picked up a bar of soap and shook it at me. She told me that if ever I said that word again, she would use it to wash out my mouth.

(Note to self: Never ask a parent what a word means while they are standing near a bar of soap!)

After I explained I really didn’t know it was a dirty word, she calmed a lot, and asked me where I heard it.

After I told her about the book, she confiscated it. Knowing how she always treated books, I could not picture her ever throwing one away, so I kept looking around the house for it for awhile after (I never found it).

It was a good book. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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