No, Your Book Isn't Ready Yet

Dinner will probably be late, too

You pushed through the tedium and the temptation. You ignored the umpteen bright/shiny new story ideas. The doubts that your story isn’t worthy. Despite how REALLY over your story you were, you finished it—beginning, middle, and conclusion. 

Time to start pursuing world-wide acclaim, right?

No. It’s not done. Trust me. I type from pained experience.

With a finished book in hand, I joined Query Tracker, began sending out query letters, and even signed up for reasonably-priced writing conventions. With no delusions, I fully anticipated a slog to get over but I knew, KNEW, publication was fated for my little book. 

Okay, maybe a few delusions…

Sure I got rejection letters/emails. And I got a lot more "no response" responses. But, in time, I alos got sit-downs with agents and even a small publishing house owner. It seemed all-too easy. Which it was.

After meeting in person, the first agent to request a full submission signed me. He said there was a pacing problem with my story but he loved it and felt confident that we could work out the pacing issue. After all, First Agent began as an editor for some heavy-hitting writers and shepherded at least one celeb to publication. 

Hey, a win in one! 

We firmed up plans for a phone call to go over his notes. When we did speak, First Agent said he was still thinking about my book but having second thoughts about his notes. He asked for another month to talk with his connections in crime/thriller publishing houses.

Then nothing. No calls. No emails. No replies. After another four months, I sent a formal letter to the office severing our “relationship.”

A year-or-so later, I landed a sit down with Dream Agent. THE AGENT in the thriller/crime game, (who isn’t Donald Maass). Dream Agent also had a reputation for supernaturally developing talent.

“You fuck the rhythm out of your writing…”

Yeah, Dream Agent also ultimately passed on my book. However, there were parting gifts. In a generous phone conversation, Dream Agent stated that the problem with my book was not pacing issues. The problem was a genre-confusion issue.

The story should be YA instead of crime, Dream Agent said. But amid naming agents better suited to pitch a gritty YA book, Dream Agent made an offhand remark that initially flew right over my head.

“As it is, I don’t know who I would even pitch this to.”

The YA angle was a non-starter for me. I’m too fond of drugs, profanity, and shooting fothermuckers in the face (in my stories). Yet, I did begin to reconsider my book and how much I relied on cute gimmicks versus telling a real story about real hoods like the ones I grew up around. 

It took a bit longer to get my nerve back to try pitching again. I undertook one last writing conference. Participants were encouraged to send our query and first ten pages to the panel of agents and publishers in advance of the conference. As a result I landed back-to-back interested parties and already had a request for my full MS before the conference.

“It’s a fun story. It’ll find a home but it won’t be with me.”

The small, critically-loved publishing house owner (who requested the full MS) was encouraging but honest.

Yay—wait, what?

At the same conference I met the last agent I would query. Far-more efficient than all the previous folks put together, Last Agent gave me a dose of cold/hard business as he handed back my leave-behind letter and first chapter.

“Your crime story is set in 1985. In Houston, Texas. I don’t know how to sell that to a publishing house buyer who wasn’t even born in 1985 and has never been out of the five boroughs.”

 

I stopped querying entirely after that. Didn’t write anything for a while, either. I pursued another degree and made a career change.

Then, during the COVID lockdown, I reread my little book. As if flipping a switch, I figured out the problem with my book and it wasn’t pacing or genre. The book wasn’t ready. It needed another pass with a (more) mature eye. Or, in my case, eyes.

In pursuing publication too soon, I wasted opportunities. 

The flip-side

I previously repeated the old axiom, “until it’s done, tell no one.” The rationale being that if you “talk all your game,” you’ll have nothing left on game day (writing). 

However, your story isn’t done until you polish it and that begins with abrasion, not praise. You don’t need approval. You need polishing and that takes criticism. That takes writers.

“It’s a nice story, really…” 

So, why a crit group and not people you know? See, your family/bestie/co-worker who reads a lot… Well, they like you, (hopefully). They—in the absolutely best circumstances—don’t want to hurt your feelings.

In the less-than-best circumstances, they really don’t care. Mostly they want to get back to weather/news/sports and when you’re coming to dinner, again. 

Most importantly, they will not, cannot, help you with your plot holes, logic fails, and poorly developed characters. 

You need complete unprofessionals—you need fellow scribblers.

I’ve written about crit groups before. They have a lot of downsides however, they are an imperative step in the process to most new writers. At the most basic level, they serve two purposes.

But, why?

First they temper your little writer ego. No matter what you think, you’re not [insert writer hero name here]. You’re not even ghost writer number three for a nationally renowned thriller “writer”—but I digress. The point is if you don’t get over your delicate emotions, you won’t achieve your goals. 

Which leads us to the second thing the crit group does—they ask rude questions. The rudest of which is “But why?”

It’s not just plugging plot holes. So much of what strains credulity is rooted in ego. Reading your story for a group, getting their mark-ups, and, most importantly, the BW questions, will help you show your ego to the back seat. They will humble you to better work.

In truth, you’re not killing your darlings, you’re dumping them like a skin that no longer fits your story.

The whiz-bang shoot-out in a public park with a killer-cop that I envisioned? Not the story. My showcase-introduction for my genius-level thief. Really more of an idiot-level logic fail. And NOT the story. For that matter, neither was the “horrendous history of abuse” part. I dropped all that like so many bad habits. 

And, no, those changes were not simply based on someone else’ opinion. In truth, I rejected 90% of the suggestions received. But the ones that resonated, the suggestions that revealed my blindspots, those made me think.

Even when I initially disagreed with them.

This was not an instantaneous process. Hoever, in making the small changes my crit group identified, I began to question the big ones I defended like a guard dog. The ones I swore were the story, or nothing. Yeah, I came to see a lots of “nothing.”

Sculpting is chipping away everything that isn’t the sculpture.

In cutting away the first-draft crap, I found the story. Found my protagonist, too. The real deal, not simply tropes hammered together to make him “cool.” Turns out, the candy coating gets in the way of your story, the real story. 

Most importantly, I learned to let go of the ideas that I started with in pursuit of something better. 

Keep writing. Do not quit.

The photo at the top is by Image by Erik Karits from Pixabay and is used by permission.

Crime Report: Murder by the Book, a Review

Three women, Addison Comstock, Alecia Cookson, and Casey Mitchell. Different ages, different goals, and different social statuses but they’re drawn together by tragedy, stolen dreams, and tortured pasts.  Two of them are on a hunt and the third has no idea.

Trigger Warning: the following review subject deals with child-abuse and sexual assault.

However, Murder by the Book author, J.L. Campbell respectfully and maturely. There are no graphic or salacious details here. By no means a “cozy,” MbtB is not gritty pulp, either.

 

When we meet international best-selling author Addison Comstock, she is hip-deep in problems. She has a deadline galloping up on her. The editor supervising her team of ghostwriters has just died. Worse, the police have detained one of her ghost writers. Worst of all, her public continues to question the provenance of her pageturners. 

But Addison Comstock didn’t claw her way out of poverty and abuse to turn-tail and run. The abuse she suffered as a child has left her with an iron will. Her success and the price she has paid for it has honed her ambition to a razor’s edge. Still the questions unnerve her.

Alecia Cookson has had it. Her “situationship” with Quentin Young—always on the edge of collapse—is more aggravation than ecstasy. Mostly because she strongly suspects he is messing around. Her work for Addison is one-part pay the bills and two-parts emotional torture. All the while she searches for the truth about her family. More than fame, more than fortune, Alecia wants to know the truth.  

With her own history of childhood abuse Alecia needs to know the truth about her mother and what happened to her. Lie, cheat, steal, Alecia will not stop until she gets the answers she wants. No matter who she has to step over—or step on—to get them.  

More than Addison, more than Alecia, Casey Mitchell is determined to succeed. After years of childhood horror, she is on a mission for justice for her mother and her sister. Buoyed by her determination and the experience of serving justice once already, Casey is unencumbered by Addison’s fear or Alecia’s emotions. 

Casey will see justice done. She will get what is owed to her family. Even if it costs her everything.

“Mark my words, yuh wickedness will catch up to yuh one day. The God I know will see justice served. You will never be happy.”

Like Campbell’s previous crime novel, Flames of Wrath, (reviewed in 2023) there are no “heroes” here. These are three women who have crawled out of generational poverty and abuse. All three have used questionable means to achieve their ends. And all three are locked in their determination. 

None of the three intertwined paths lead to a “happily-ever-after.” But as with FoW, MbtB is a delight in execution. When the twist (which won’t be spoiled here) lands, it’s not so much a shocker as a worth-the-price-of-admission show. 

That’s J.L. Campbell’s strength. She has a true command of reality and how her story fits within a brutally real world. Her violence is visceral, her pain is wincing, and her victory is a hard-won triumph for her character and the reader.

Murder by the Book is a lot of fun. It is also available for pre-order, here. Check it out!

Fantastic Four First Steps and Why YOUR Story Matters

 

Those who have read my previous posts may recall that I’m a long-time comic book nerd. As, in “begged for a Spider-Man comic before I could even read,” comic-book nerd. With that established, it should come as a surprise to no one that I attended a showing of Matt Shakman’s The Fantastic Four: First Steps on opening weekend. 

Marvel’s First Family, Jack Kirby's art/influence

The story of four individuals, (Reed Richards, Sue Storm, Johnny Storm, and Ben Grimm)  forever changed by exposure to cosmic energy during a spaceflight, The Fantastic Four comic-book (here on, FF) debuted in 1967. The book represented an optimistic belief that humanity could think its way out of any challenge, The book also identified a key component to civil/societal advancement: family. 

Love at first sight.

It’s a great message but it wasn’t what first drew my attention to the title. Nine-year-old me was blown away by FF #200 and Doctor Doom, (with a passing resemblance to Darth Vader) going toe-to-toe with Reed Richards, (stretchy guy in blue). I had seen the title before as well as the old Hanna-Barberra cartoon series. But issue #200 was the one that caught my imagination. 

Exciting, with a scary villain. The action and resolution made sense. All rare things in comic book land. But there was something missing…

Her accomplishment, still has to praise husband ~sigh~

Invisible who?

Comic books have always been imperfect and FF was very much an imperfect title of its time. Nowhere was this more evident than Sue Storm’s Invisible Girl (more on that). 

Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, gave Sue/IG short shrift. Much like other early Marvel heroines, The Wasp and Marvel Girl, The Invisible Girl was often written as the imperiled sidekick, or the imperiled weak-link, or imperiled romantic-interest.

Unfortunately, this (women as plot device) was par for the course at the time. And it remained that way for almost twenty years. When Sue stepped beyond the role of Reed Richards cheerleader or FF den mother, it was not through agency but through beauty. 

It was either Sue or dude in the toga

Sue did stop Galactus, (literally eats planets)...by turning Galactus’ love-struck herald, The Silver Surfer, against big G. When Namor, (the big-bad from Wakanda Forever) decides on war against the surface world, he first kidnaps Sue and then spends the next two decades trying to woo her. Dude really has odd ideas about courtship.

Sue, exercising her agency

But times change. Sales changes a lot more and much faster.

Disinclined to acquiesce to be imperiled 

The X-Men comic book predates the FF by about four years. Unlike Marvel’s First Family, the X-Men struggled, was even cancelled and ultimately resurrected to shaky results. Then a new writer took over. 

Chris Claremont had entirely different ideas about what comic books—and female characters—should be about. He punched up the female characters, gave them agency, (ideas, goals, fears, independent of men). As a result, in the course of about three years, The X-Men went from one of Marvel’s lowest-selling titles to the single most successful title in Marvel’s history.

And just in time, too

As cable television and video game consoles became more prevalent, (male) comic book readership declined. But female readership climbed. Women saved The X-Men and women saved comic books—especially as more women began to write comic books. 

Which brings us back to Sue Storm in the movie. Screen writer Kat Wood, (et al) wrote a fully realized woman. Here, Sue is introduced as a scientist. She negotiates a peace treaty with a subterranean nation. Even addresses the UN General Assembly. Yes, she loves her husband and her family but she is more than wife, sister, and mother. She is a thinker and a problem solver, a nurturing peacemaker, and a valiant fighter.

Like. A. BOSS.

Most importantly, Sue stands up to her husband as readily as she stands up to the villain. And by the time they get around to dealing with Galactus, Sue is good and over Reed and his sh—uper intellect driven, near-pathological anxiety. 

Sue takes charge of the battle plan and the unimaginable risk. And like the strongest heroes, she offers her very life for those she loves. For all that she loves.

This is why your story matters: perspective, experience, and imagination, beyond what has gone before. The damsel who saves herself, (Aria Stark in George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones series) the boss baddie who saves herself and the guy, (Inej in Leigh Bardugo’s GrishaVerse) and the woman of courage and integrity who stands on her own intellect, (Gaal Dornick in David Goyer and Josh Friedman’s Foundation)—we all want, we all NEED, those stories. 

When you infuse the story with your dreams, fears, and insight, you give one of those 6 or 7 stories evolved life. Best of all, you give someone who needs that story a chance of seeing themselves in strength and light. That is what the best stories do. 

The Fantastic Four: First Steps is a lot of fun whether you’re a fan of the comic books or not. I can’t wait to see it again. 

Check it out.

I own none of the photos above. All are used for instructional/educational purposes, as covered by the Fair Use Doctrine.

From Where? Regional Bias and Character Establishment

 

In celebration of March Madness, Tonight Show host Jimmy Fallon debuted a witty little rap recognizing 15 teams in the “Sweet 16.” You read that right, 15 teams in the “Sweet 16.” Even incorporated 15 team mascots. In the “Sweet 16.” If you doubt me, you can see it here.

Really, it's not that surprising. See, the 16th team is the University of Houston Cougars and this omission of recognition is not an isolated incident for my beloved city. 

The Houston Comets, (RIP) professional women’s basketball team, won the first WNBA championship. It’s like they didn’t even exist nationally. Perpetual underdogs, the Houston Rockets won back-to-back championships and it took (local) media outrage to compel Sports Illustrated to publish a championship edition—that was only sold in this market. The Houston Astros have won two World Series. Crickets

Sam Houston, the first hater. 

The fourth largest city in America, Houston is more diverse than Los Angeles and NYC, (Migration Policy Institute, 2023). We had the first out-lesbian mayor in the nation. But that’s not what we’re known for. Not our college communities, (we have five universities and over 40 colleges) or diverse employment opportunities, nor sports teams, either.  

See, for most outsiders, (means “me”) if you say “Michigan,” they/I think “Detroit.” Nevada is Las Vegas. New York is the five boroughs. Conversely, if you say “Dallas,” or “Austin,” or ~sigh~ “Houston,” most outsiders hear one thing: TEXAS. 

Only (ever) a selling point in Texas.

It might be the weather: hot with brief periods of freezing or drowning. It might be the time difference. You set your watch back 25 years when you come here. It might be our geography: far. We’re far from everywhere. Bands on world-wide tours, skip us. Regularly.

It may be our economy, largely built on beef and oil, injustice and exploitation. But mostly, it’s just Texas. We're really hard to love, especially by folks who entertain critical or self-reflective thought.

What’s this have to do with writing?

Regional biases can round out your protagonist/antagonist personality and character. There’s a long tradition of regional “attitudes” fleshing out a character. 

"Do I look like I'm from Reseda?"

Every dramatization of playwright, poet, and duelist, Savinien de Cyrano de Bergerac—from Rostand’s play to every successive film—has depicted Cyrano as a gregarious, boisterous, and pugnacious Gascon. Gascons, (closer to the Basques than the Parisians) were the “'bamas” (bumpkins, hicks, yokels) of France. It really "butches up" the world’s most famous unrequited lover.

Yet, in the greatest of writing traditions, Rostand stole the idea of the head-strong, fearless, (and guileless) Gascon.

Yep, 'bama...

Alexandre Dumas first used the 'bama-hero for his do-right man, d’Artagnan, the world’s most famous musketeer. He is the mold for generations of heroes born of meager—but proud, ig’nant, strong, dumb, I can go on—beginnings who stand up to the sophisticated but ultimately corrupt villains. 

Maybe it's just about hats...

Raylan Givens, Elmore Leonard’s U.S. Marshal from the mountains of Kentucky is a contemporary example. If you’ve never been to the mountains and valleys (hollers) you still have an idea of the folk who live there from other books and movies. Same when Hannibal Lecter tells Clarice Starling (and I paraphrase, badly) “Good nutrition has given you some length of bone…And that accent that you’ve tried so hard to shed? That’s pure West Virginia.”

The mountain people of the eastern United States are known as recalcitrant nonconformists. They are the spiritual descendants of the afore-mentioned Basques and closer to the indomitable Spartans than the southern colonels and dixie princes. Most are descendents of the Scots-Irish dispossessed. These points of origin lend a gritty toughness as well as a baked-in backstory of desperation with minimal exposition.

But why should the good guys have all the fun? 

W.A.S.P.  (noun)  an acronym which stands for White Anglo Saxon Protestant. Considered the first enduring colonists of the north-eastern United States. Most commonly associated with New England.

Also, almost immediately a villain. Why? Oh, regional-specific terms like “old money,” and “triangle money,” and "prep-school." Kidding! Mostly...

Then there’s the middling-guys. Not good, not bad, just meh-guys. You want to paint a picture of them with just a few strokes? Give them a point-of-origin identity.

Shoes instead of hats

There is however, a thin line between cultural identities and stereotypes.

For several hundred years, the (penny-pinching) Scot and the (ignorant/lazy/dishonest) Irish were the ne’er-do-well butt of most English jokes. The same stereotypes were assigned to the Jews of Europe and the Russian Empire.

For several decades it was the (dumb) Polish in the north-eastern U.S. (as well as a certain Tennessee Williams' play) the cajuns in Louisiana, the Aggies (and Mexicans and Blacks and...) in Texas, and the Texans everywhere else. 

We’re the perpetual 'bamas and every year, in ways large and small, we perpetuate the stereotype. 

But please remember, in all instances, we’re dealing with living breathing people. If you find yourself slipping into invective or hurtful stereotypes, just remember the Cougars. 

A whole team of hard-playing, kids from all over the country entered into the NCAA’s March Madness in University of Houston Cougar jerseys. They made it all the way to the end. For their trouble, the national press only mentioned them in reference to the Florida Gators—who defeated them in the championship final. 

Shasta stating facts

I own none of the photos here. All are used for instructional/educational purposes as covered by the Fair Use Doctrine.