First Ten Pages

Well, September came and went like a bad smell, and I blogged not-a-damn-thing.  I'm sure the world will never forgive me...

What have I been up to?  Writing.  Editing.  Many, many hours of editing.  If you're not sure what editing really is -- in regard to a novel -- it's basically taking a story you wrote and loved and reworking it so much that you're ready to burn the stupid thing and then eat the ashes.

Why did that make me think of Cocoa Pebbles?

At any rate -- editing.  I've been working on Valley of the Spun, which I'm now considering re-titling, based on some feedback I got.  I recently had the opportunity to attend a workshop put on by Writers Digest, and taught by Paula Munier of Talcott Notch Literary Services.  The purpose of the workshop was to improve the first ten pages of your manuscript to make the story more intriguing, exciting, and captivating. 

Look, I've spent a lot of time over the past several years working on craft (believe it or not) so I was a bit skeptical going into the class.  There's no shortage of people willing to take the eager writer's money and give little or nothing in return.  I decided to take a chance since both the names involved in the workshop were very reputible.  I have to say, I was really pleased with the results. 

At heart, I'm a 'why' kind of guy.  When I know the reasoning behind a rule or theory, it helps me understand and learn.  As we went through the lesson, many of the concepts I had previously read about came together as I heard about manuscript review from the agent's perspective.  A pretty big 'aha' moment.

The best part of the workshop was getting a personal critique from the agent herself on my first ten pages.  Any writer who's ever submitted anything can sympathize with the empty wonder that comes with every rejection letter:  Like a pimple-faced teen in a powder-blue tux, you stand, corsage in hand, wondering why you just weren't good enough to take to prom.  Fact is, agents don't have time to write a personal response to each of the thousands of queries and pages they read -- it's logistically impossible. 

Given that, I've always wanted to know what I could be doing better.  Not just theory in an instruction manual, but for me, specifically, what I could do to strengthen my work.   Many times I thought, "If I just knew what it is I need to improve, then I can get to work on it..." 

I feel like I got that from the workshop, and it meant a great deal to me.  That was a fun interlude, but, now it's back to editing.  Wish me luck.