until you learn your craft
you aren't a writer
EROTIC FICTION: A WRITER'S
PERSPECTIVE, by Ray Girvan
MORE QUESTIONS
Let's stop right there. Before I get violent.
There is little more irritating to professionals in the writing business than to hear someone blithely announce that he or she is a genius writer who, by the way, has yet to complete a single poem or story, but who "knows" he or she has it in him/her to write a great novel.
Would you walk up to a heart surgeon after he's just completed a 9-hour operation and say, "Hey, dude! Saw you work! Excellent! You know, I just picked up a bag of knives and whatchamacallits at a flea market over the weekend, and I'm thinking of going into the surgery biz myself! I know I've got a great triple bypass in me!"
If you would, stop reading this immediately, because you are the kind of person who gives hopeless optimists a bad name.
The first and most important thing to remember about writing is that it is an art, a craft, a vocation and a profession, all rolled into one. Writers spend their whole lives refining their skills; most have, at one time or another, studied writing--either by taking workshops, studying it at school, working with a mentor, or charting out their own education through serious independent study and writing exercises.
Or put another way: a writer demeans the very profession he or she wishes to succeed in by implying that becoming a great writer is merely a matter of finally getting around to putting your thoughts down on paper.
Yes, there are exceptions--an occasional young writer with so much inborn talent he puts us all to shame. No disrespect intended, but are you really one of those phenoms?
Hm. Doctor Freudette, psychic analyst, here. If you truly suffer manic highs and delusions of grandeur, only to plunge into fits of brooding despair and self- doubt, Mazel Tov! You may be a writer after all!
In any case, if you've never shown anyone a sample of your writing, there is no time like NOW to get some feedback by getting your work read by people whose opinions matter.
You have several options on this front, most of which, alas, cost money. Here are the most common ones, with my opinions on their value.
Obviously this is the best alternative but the problem is that the free advice may be worth what you paid for it.
Still, if you haven't already done so, start by showing your work to people you know and trust: this can be intelligent, literate friends; any writers or artists you know socially; and teachers you respect. If you have any friends in the publishing business, by all means politely ask if you may show them what you're working on.
Try not to beleaguer writers who don't know you with unsolicited samples of your work, unless you have every reason to believe your project would interest them (for example, if you're writing on the sciences and your research is relevant to another author's). Do not take it personally if they don't have the time to reply to your query or fail to offer you useful advice. Most writers have to choose between writing for pay and answering letters from thousands of aspiring writers with similar requests. So it isn't personal; it's economic.
(Which reminds me. I don't have time to answer most queries either!. That's why I've taken the time to create this feature. Please respect my own limits and don't send me unsolicited work. If I don't answer your email, it really isn't personal. I just don't have the time for it. Sorry.)
Next, if you ask someone for an honest opinion, be prepared to receive an honest opinion--one which you may or may not like. When someone in this biz takes the time to help you, treat it as a gift. Getting angry or sulking because you did not get the answer you hoped for makes you look unprofessional and immature. If your ego cannot handle the potential for rejection or discouragement, then this is the wrong business for you.
Just as you shouldn't get bent out of shape if someone doesn't give you the answer you hoped for, don't let it go to your head if your family and friends wax enthusiastic over your writing. Once when I was fourteen, my father burst into tears over a poem I wrote about a homeless drunk. Unfortunately, the publishing establishment didn't share my dad's profound rapture at my tragic adolescent sensibility.
So when your lover tells you you're the next Hemingway and your kid sister worshipfully cries that you're better than Vonnegut, feel happy that they love and treasure you but wait until you hear from some editors before you anoint yourself a literary god.
Meanwhile, don't be devastated if people don't like or understand your writing. It could be you've just shown your work to the WRONG people. Lots of famous writers (among them John Steinbeck) endured brutal rejections for years before, finally, finding someone who understood what they were about. The history of arts and letters is littered with heart-broken geniuses who killed themselves in despair only to have their work posthumously published and wildly praised.
If your ego can handle it, listen to what people tell you and see if any of it resonates. If several people complain about your characters, go back and see whether they do need further development. If someone points out factual errors, do a little more research to be sure you got it right.
If I had to boil it down to one simply piece of advice, it's this: treat feedback as an opportunity to learn something new about your work. And if you find that the criticism was totally worthless, then you've learned something else. Don't ask for that person's opinion anymore! He or she is obviously not the right audience for your work. You'll only drive yourself mad trying to please someone who just does not understand what you're doing. (See aforementioned section on writers and substance abuse.)
If you're just starting out, a good way to get your feet wet and to get feedback both from mentors and peers, is at a writing workshop. I recommend joining a formal workshop led by a published writer. (As opposed to informal ones where unpublished hopefuls get together.) Peer groups can be enormously helpful to you in terms of support and comraderie. But if you want to write like a pro, you should study with one.
Most college English departments offer writing workshops in poetry and fiction; some in screenwriting and non-fiction. If you aren't matriculated, it may still be possible for you to audit a class or to pay a fee and take it for no credit.
Writing faculty is assigned office time precisely to help students after class. These professors will work with you, sometimes individually, on improving your poetry or fiction. They also may provide useful leads and practical information on breaking into the publishing market.
If you are so inclined, you could apply to a Creative Writing Program which grants an MFA (Masters of Fine Arts) in Creative Writing. The MFA is a terminal degree, which means you can find a tenure-track job as a teacher of Creative Writing without getting a PhD. The MFA essentially prepares writers for professional careers. In an MFA program you will make contacts that may last your whole life; you will focus--with the support of mentors and peers--on your writing intensively; and you will have access to experienced writers whose advice may give direction to your career.
For information on which universities offer Creating Writing Programs, get a copy of the standard guide published by the Associated Writing Programs (AWP). The book, THE OFFICIAL GUIDE TO WRITING PROGRAMS, costs about $25 and lists over 250 programs, including the names of the writers on faculty at each school. Obtain your copy by writing to:
On the whole, faculty positions at Creative Writing programs are filled by respected, published writers--novelists, poets, and sometimes playwrights and screenwriters. Since there are more writers who want to teach than there are jobs, competition is intense, and forces even famous writers to relocate to small communities. This may not be ideal for the writers, but it is a gem of an opportunity for you, if you live far from an urban center. So even if you live in Podunk, and Podunk State College is your only connection to culture, give them a call and see if they have any interesting writers on faculty.
Universities aren't the only (or even necessarily the best) place to go for workshops. Independent writing workshops exist in all major cities and most smaller ones. One thing about writers: we're often broke. So, you can be sure that even some of the most successful writers in your part of the country will occasionally teach a workshop off- campus. This was how I got to meet Joseph Brodsky: a couple of years before he won the Nobel Prize, he taught a class at the Poetry Society of America in New York.
Check your local (or alternative) paper for listings of writers' groups in your area. Most writing societies sponsor seminars and workshops. Independent institutions--such as the YMCA or the Learning Annex--usually have workshops too, and their fees are usually quite reasonable.
Don't expect a lot of personal attention at a workshop at the Learning Annex or at non-profit businesses. You will probably only see your teacher in class, and chances are that he or she will mainly want to look at the work you're doing for that class, and not that 900-page novel you've been working on for 20 years. But the teacher will read your class assignments and there's always a chance she or he will take a special interest in you.
You should also check with any colleges and universities in your area which offer Continuing and Adult Education. Even the ritziest schools--like Harvard--now offer such programs to the general public. Unfortunately, course fees at prestigious universities can be ridiculously steep so look around for alternatives before you sign up.
It's always possible that someone who is teaching at a local university is also moonlighting by running private workshops or participating in off-campus seminars.
On-line workshops are blossoming as vigorously as the Net itself. Indeed, some websites and UseNet groups are devoted to informal workshops. On Compuserve there is an entire Forum devoted to writers of poetry, with ample opportunities for on- line workshopping and networking (GO POETRY). I'm sure similar areas exist on AOL.
The advantage of on-line services is that you can do it from the convenience of home. The disadvantage is that you're still dealing with people over the PC and not in person.
I don't know how their fees compare with off-line workshops, but if you're interested in checking out this option, here is one website you can try: Writers on the Net: On-Line Writing Classes and Mentoring. I don't know them so I won't vouch for them, but their staff looks very real.
If you know of any other professionally-staffed workshops on the Web, let me know and I'll add them here.
A harder-to-find, more expensive, but wonderfully luxurious alternative is to work with a private tutor. If you find someone who's good, it could prove to be one of the most helpful and artistically rewarding relationships of your life.
Some writers will work with a limited number of students on a private basis. You pay by the hour and generally go to their homes for an hour or two each week of intensive critiquing. A responsible tutor will carefully review your work, offer advice on improving it, help you to solve problems in the manuscript, and help you prepare it for submission. Some tutors may give you leads on where to send it, or will allow you to use their name in your cover letters.
Finding a private tutor requires a bit of effort. If you don't have any contacts who can help point you in the right direction, you might want to obtain a copy of A DIRECTORY OF AMERICAN POETS AND FICTION WRITERS, published by Poets & Writers Inc.. The book lists writers geographically (with an alphabetical index at the back). You could always try writing a letter to someone in your area to inquire whether they ever accept private students.
I list this one last because I hold it in lowest esteem. But since people do use these services, I feel I should mention them if only to caution you about what to watch out for should you take this route.
Briefly put, you can hire a professional reader or service who will, for a fee, read and critique your work. "Writer's Digest" (a popular magazine available at most newsstands) runs dozens of classified and regular ads from agencies and "book doctors" who offer reading and rewriting services.
Now I will tell you why I am skeptical: if these geniuses know all the tricks to make a book sell millions of copies, how come they're working out of a walk-up in Hoboken, scrounging for clients? What can they really teach you?--the techniques which have led to them being book doctors?
I'm sure there are honest, hard-working writers and editors out there, doing this as a way to boost their income. Unfortunately, there are also hustlers who simply take advantage of the naivete and desperation of inexperienced writers.
RULES OF THUMB: anyone who promises you, or leads you to believe, that using their service will guarantee your success is conning you. Anyone who assures you that there is a surefire method to becoming a best-selling author is a fraud. I recommend that you contact the Better Business Bureau before handing over your money to any company which makes such big promises.
To help you decide, ask the company to send you their brochure. If they don't have a brochure or any publicity material they can send you, it means they don't have a budget, which means they don't have many clients, and that could mean they're not very good.
If you get a brochure, don't be fooled by impressive testaments and groovy graphics. A glitzy brochure doesn't necessarily mean the company's doing well; it could mean they got the printer to do the work on credit. Read the text closely. Does the company have a real address or a "blind" one (such as a post office box or maildrop)? Does the company list the names of its staff or its proverbial "satisfied customers"? Are any of those names known to anyone outside that company? If someone's listed in a brochure as "famous author of 30 books," check with Books In Print (available at all public libraries), or search the Net under the author's name. If this famous author and his 30 books are not listed or reviewed anywhere, something's fishy.
Another thing you need to investigate is what you will actually get for your money. Will you get a full-scale critique that runs several pages (at a minimum)? Or will you pay hundreds of dollars for a couple of paragraphs? Will the service assist you in making submissions? If it's a literary agency which offers the service, how many of the people who pay reading fees actually end up as clients? Ask these question before you sign up, and make sure to get any important terms in writing.
There's another hurdle: even if you find a reputable place, and they promise you a detailed critique, who exactly will be reading your book? Will it be Mr. Famous? Or his flunky?
I have always suspected that many of the people who read mss. at these places aren't editors or writers, but a cadre of underpaid college grads. The reason I suspect this is because, before I even was graduated from college, I was offered such a job at a big literary agency--Scott Meredith--which operated a pay-per-review service to hopeful writers. This was 1975, and they were going to pay me the generous sum of $135 a week to do nothing but slog through the slush piles. Whatever the opinion I might have rendered at the tender age of 20, it certainly would not have been worth the $200 or whatever they charged hopeful writers at the time.
Still, I have known people who felt they got their money's worth from reading services, if only because it was the first time an objective third-party, employed in the publishing industry, seriously read and thought about their work.
If you can be satisfied just obtaining an opinion--whether or
not it's from anyone who can really improve your work--
then that's fine. And there is always the chance that you will
find
someone who can help you both to assess your potential
as a writer and prepare your work for publication.
All I'm saying is that if you do choose this option,
do it with your eyes open and your fist clenched tightly on
your wallet.
