Great Writing Advice

I'm responding to Rick's post on the best writing advice he's ever received. There are two pieces of writing advice I've received and treasured through the years. The advice from my first agent, the late great Claire Smith is still my lodestone. 

I had called Claire in despair because an editor who hoped her house would acquire my manuscript had sent my novel, Come Spring, for an outside reading. She paid for his analysis out of her own pocket. The reader's mega view was that I had a talent for plot and character (I liked that part) but his specifics were way off. He clearly wanted to change the novel from a straight historical to a historical bodice ripper type. 

He was simply wrong. I told Claire I wanted to learn and grow and did not want to be the kind of writer who could not stand any kind of criticism. How could I tell when someone was right?

Her reply: "You don't trust nobody, kid. You don't trust your enemies and you certainly don't trust your friends. And you never change your work just because you think someone is smart. You only change your work when you know in your gut, they are right."

Wow! It's amazing how I really do know when someone's criticism is right on. My editor, Annette Rogers, at Poisoned Pen said of one of my mysteries, "what is Lottie actually doing besides turning out lights and making coffee?"

I went through the book and looked at every scene. She was right! The revision involved a lot of work, but I could see at once that it was necessary. Good editors are worth their weight in gold. 

Insights can come from anywhere. I was once part of group touring historical sites and one of the participants taught creative writing at Kansas University. We visited about writing and he mentioned that he stressed "follow the man." Lights went on in my brain! That was the biggest flaw with my work in progress. It was another multiple character historical novel and I had written the first chapter from the wrong person's point of view. He was of second tier importance.

The second piece of advice I've thought about a lot was "write what you want to write. There's so little money in it, it's stupid to do for any other reason." This is true, but rather bittersweet. Truth is, I like to write a lot of different things and it's hurt me financially. I would have better off if I had focused. I merrily switch from mysteries to historical novels, then short stories and articles, with academic work thrown in when it strikes my fancy. It does not endear me to agents and editors or readers.  

I've been very fortunate in that I've been with the same agency, Harold Ober Associates, from the beginning and then was accepted into Folio Literary Management when that house bought Harold Ober. I've never had to wrestle with some of the heart-breaking issues some of my friends have dealt with. 

Good Advice? or Not?

When I was peddling my first novel I acquired a wonderful agent, Claire Smith, of Harold Ober Associates. She was known throughout the industry for her wisdom. The few times I needed to call her, I was absolutely terrified of sounding really, really dumb (which I really, really was) or presumptuous for calling in the first place.

But one very memorable day I called her in a state of absolute fury. I had gotten feedback from a "book doctor" an editor had contacted on my behalf. The advice was so bad I was incensed. Mainly because this man did not know a thing about the historical background. But also because he knew so little about the intent of the book and wanted to redo mine into a romance.

I told her I didn't want to be one of those temperamental prima donnas who wouldn't listen to criticism.

What was really going on of course, was that I very young and vulnerable and this manuscript had become overly important in my own mind.

I'll never forget what Claire said. She began with "Congratulations. You're starting to acquire the first hard shell that is required to become a writer. It's the first of many, if you are going to survive."

Then she gave me this advice on advice. "You don't trust nobody, kid. You don't trust your enemies and you certainly don't trust your friends. And you don't change anything just because you think they are smart. It's only when something resonates in your gut—when you know they are right that you change your work."

Her words were very freeing. I've gone by them ever since. Nailing what's wrong with a manuscript is part of the process. Advice doesn't have to come to us directly. Some times when I'm struggling and hear a talk by another author or read someone's blog, the light flashes. I know instantly what is holding up the work. It's a terrific feeling.

By this time, I've become a  lot more objective. I'm usually capable of recognizing good advice but also acutely aware of how subjective the book business is. Even if a mystery is regarded as brilliant by the critics and the buying public, it might not be my cup of tea.

I'm very cautious about "helping" newbies with their writing. I may be dead wrong. Most worrisome is not being familiar with a genre. I don't want to ruin someone. It's hard to believe that anyone would take my advice that seriously, but they might. And I might be spectacularly wrong.

It's nothing short of a miracle to stumble onto the right editor at the right house. Even more miraculous for a book to click, create buzz and go on to be a best seller.