As I move through a manuscript, polishing each page, each paragraph, every word gets called out in my mind.  “Is that the absolute BEST choice?” I ask myself.  Was that character thin or would emaciated, slender, frail, skinny or scrawny evoke a clearer image for my reader?  And when I know a word is almost, but not quite right, the thesaurus gives me that boost in the right direction.

Since description is not my strength, I must forever return to my manuscripts and tend to my nouns (specific!) and verbs (active!) and amend my prose with adjectives and the not-so-stylish-these-days adverb.  Attention to these details create a world of difference and, in my view, separates the novice writer from the expert.

Consider these two sentences:

Mona ran across the parking lot to help Jenny.

The gravel sharp beneath her feet, Mona sprinted across the parking lot to grab Jenny by the arm.

Same meaning, but a little tweaking gives a more specific scene.  One of Nina’s good friends exclaims to her students “Remember the verb!”  Indeed, but don’t forget the rest of the words in a sentence!

Directed peer editing is a helpful way to get what you want out of your writing group.  By sending out your manuscript with a list of questions, you’ll make better use of your readers’ time and effort and get more specific suggestions out of them.  I wouldn’t want my writing group to take a red pen and harshly work over a manuscript that is in rough draft form–chances are that many of those pages will get cut and they’ve put all that expert work into editing that wasn’t necessary.  Alternately, if I’m really satisfied with a piece and only want “fine-tuning” suggestions, I’ll feel annoyed to receive my piece back with major overhauls written into the margins.  (Of course, I’d want major problems brought to my attention, and a good editor takes a piece where it’s at, which Marni, Mariana, Lauren and Nina are very good at doing.)

On the same tack, if you’re working with new writers who aren’t familiar with how to edit well, a list of questions will direct their attention in a way that is helpful to you as an author.  A beginning editor will only point out spelling mistakes and praise you for everything else.  If you want more out of that kind of reader, you have to tell them what you want them to look for in your manuscript.

Some great questions to attach to a manuscript you’ve submitted to your writing group might include:

*  At any point did the story lag or become boring to you?  Was the pacing good or did some parts read too slow?

* Do you have questions about my story?  (Perhaps something needs further development or explanation, like a relationship between characters or a plot point.)

*  Did my characters come alive off the page?  Did any of them require more description?

*  Do I have too many characters?

*  What should I cut from this piece?

*  Does the dialogue sound realistic?

*  Are you always clear on the setting in each scene?

*  Do I have enough or too much description?

*  Do you want to read more?

*  Does the ending feel satisfying?  If not, what feels “off” or incomplete?

Tell us, are you in the habit of giving your writing group questions with your manuscript drafts?

Let’s take that second example, because music is another form of art.  When musicians are asked, “Who do you  listen to?” they always have a ready answer.  Rock stars, country singers, jazz swingers, metal bangers are quick to give tribute to the sounds that influenced their work.  They’re not shy about giving props to other musicians, it’s how they acquired their understanding of music and how they mastered finer points like style and rhythm.   Musicians study the work of their fellow artists, pick it apart, replay it time and again to gather a full knowledge of all the components.

So, I argue, should writers with other writers.  As a YA writer, I should read the work of my contemporaries–how do they master character development, setting, description, plotting?  What mystery writer wouldn’t be served by reading Agatha Christie, Rex Stout or Reginald Hill?  It’s arrogant and ignorant to think your writing can’t be improved by reading and reflecting on the work of other writers.  If you’re serious about writing, you’re digging into the best work your genre has to offer.

If you write in isolation, purely informed by what you watch on TV or read on the Internet, you can’t become a really great writer.  I’d argue that you couldn’t even become a mediocre writer.  Writers need to examine, pore over, wallow in the work of other writers.

Right now I’m slogging through a YA manuscript (at least I think it’s a YA novel), and my characters are gritty, living on the poor side of town.  I’m reading Townie by Andre Dubus III to inform me on developing setting and character.  I’m reading Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games trilogy to advise me on plotting and pacing and dialogue.  And as I continue writing, I’m browsing the YA section of my local library, picking up other books to help me along.

What are you reading these days?  How’s it helping your writing?

Of course, if you have peer editors or a writing group helping you through this process, they can take the edge off your revision work, but it’s no substitute.  Every writer worth their salt should know their weaknesses and be reading for those trouble areas in their work.  For me, it’s verb tense, conflict and setting.   Take advantage of your writing partners by telling them your weak areas and asking them specifically to edit those parts of your work for you.

Do you revise in “layers?”  What “layers” do you pick apart when reading through your finished manuscript?

1.  Stay on campus.  Whether you’re in Iowa City or Washington D.C. there will be temptations to leave the conference site and explore other offerings.  Trouble is, you won’t meet other writers if you stray too far from the core activity.  Plant yourself dead center, stay in the dorms, eat your meals on site and maximize your exposure.

2.  Greet everyone you meet.  You say you’re a poet but you “accidentally” sat next to an essayist during the welcome reception?  That’s no problem–talk it up with every single person at every opportunity.  Half of your agenda is to expand your writing network and the best way to do this is to glad-hand each person you find.  Make small talk while waiting in line to use the restrooms, “Have you heard anything about the noon speaker?”  Chat up strangers at the evening readings, “How’s your session going?”  Break the ice over lunch, “So, is anyone at this table published yet?  I want to hear all about it.”  If you’re shy, don’t sweat it.  Make a short stack of index cards with conversation starters written on them–check them over before you enter a new situation so you’re prepared.

3.  Sit by someone new every chance you get.  I used this trick in graduate school.  People are creatures of habit–they sit in a chair the first day and I can guarantee the next time they enter the same room, they’ll choose the same chair.  As a high school teacher I almost never needed a seating chart–my students made their own by never opting to move to a new seat!  In order to effectively network, you need to challenge this behavior by moving to a new seat each day.  This positions you next to new people, creating new opportunities to meet and exchange ideas and advice.

Remember:  Half of your objective in attending a writing conference or workshop  is to meet other writers who can help you achieve YOUR writing dreams.

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Writing in a Changing World

1.  Select the writing sample you want to share with your instructor and classmates.  I recommend selecting a piece you want feedback on, nothing that’s been edited to perfection and nothing you’re unwilling to hear criticized.  Obviously a perfect piece won’t garner any helpful feedback.  Sharing a raw story about a personal struggle, even if it’s written straight from your heart, might prove too sensitive and you’ll end up angry at people for criticizing your story.  Choose a selection from your current project, one that best represents your talents and struggles as a writer.  If you’re a novelist, you may want to choose the first chapter to avoid having to tell the entire story behind your selection, although sharing a pivotal scene might elicit very helpful insights from your readers.  You want to take full advantage of this opportunity to learn as much as you can, so do not bring writing that’s not ready for an audience.

2.  Spell and grammar-check your selection.  Make sure it’s typed, double-spaced using standard margins and a familiar font (Times New Roman, for example).  Print your selection single-sided and include page numbers along with your name on the top or bottom margin.  Make enough copies for your instructor and any other conference attendees.  Make sure your copies are legible.  I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but my advice is based on prior conference experiences.  If you want to be perceived as professional about your writing, the presentation of your writing should reflect professionalism.  

3.  Compile clean copies of anything else you’d like to share with other conference attendees.  You’ll probably meet all kinds of writers and enjoy the opportunity to exchange other pieces of your work.  I’ve brought first chapters from all of my novels, a few essays and a couple of poems to every conference I’ve attended…just in case.   

To learn more about how to prepare for a writing workshop or conference, check out our book Writing in a Changing World, available as an ebook or in paperback.

First, you have to pick the one you want to attend.  Your perimeters will probably include cost, location, schedule and availability.  I’ve gone to a couple different writing conferences, the first one was a statewide one, geared towards poets and very disappointing for me since most of the attendees had very little writing experience.  I wanted to network with a more professional grade of writer, so I decided to try a conference held at a university known for its MFA program in Creative Writing.  It cost more, but every cent was worth it.  The Iowa Summer Writing Festival proved to be  a fantastic writing conference for many reasons:

1.  It’s centrally located with on-site lodging.  As a Midwesterner I appreciated the short distance (6 hours driving) and comparatively low travel expenses.  Staying on-site meant I had 24/7 access to the festival’s offerings and to networking with the other writers attending the festival.

2.  It boasts excellent instructors with a range of publishing and writing backgrounds.  Many people return year after year to teach the workshops, but plenty of new faces get mixed in regularly.  The small workshop sizes gave everyone great access to the instructors and the additional daily lecture series allowed for extra exposure to different instructors.  Since this summer writing festival is closely connected to the esteemed University of Iowa MFA program, the instructors get some prestige by association and the university prides itself on the quality of the festival’s offerings.

3.  It offers a huge range of workshops–from novel-writing to historical nonfiction to craft-specific courses in character and plot.  No matter what you write, the Iowa Summer Writing Festival offers a workshop to enrich your work.

4.  It’s very affordable.  My week-long workshop, lodging, meals and transportation cost less than a week on a cruise ship or at an all-inclusive resort.  My fellow writing geeks appreciate the value in that kind of vacation!

5.  The Iowa Summer Writing Festival offers week-long and weekend workshops almost all summer, so scheduling is unbelievably convenient.

6.  People rave about it.  I met several people who attended the Iowa Summer Writing Festival multiple times, a true testament to the excellence and usefulness of their workshop.

Whether searching for a writing conference by host, location, cost, genre or schedule many sites offer excellent databases with links to various workshop and conference home pages.  Check out NewPages.com to find an incredibly inclusive list of writing conferences, retreats, workshops and festivals.

If I were to prioritize, I’d put genre and host at the top of my list.  It doesn’t make sense to waste money on a substandard conference experience, nor does it make sense to invest in a poetry workshop when you only write nonfiction.  The best workshops don’t necessarily boast the most popular writers–success as an author doesn’t always translate into good teaching skills–but the credentials of the instructors are something to consider.  If you tend to write literary pieces, you’d expect to find the instructors have been published in literary magazines like Prairie Schooner and Tin House.    If you write nonfiction, you’d want your instructors to have a solid background in nonfiction writing.

Tell us, readers, what writing conferences do you recommend for a new writer?  For an experienced writer?

You might be lucky enough to live in an area with an ongoing writing group that advertises itself well through local media.

You might live near a college or university with a writing program.

You might live in a fantastic artsy community where people from all walks of life gather to play music, perform theater, knit, throw pottery and write together.

Or you might live in a place where the only thing people write are checks to pay their bills.

How can you find a writing group?

You can start by searching online.  You can look on the bulletin boards of local bookstores and coffee shops.  You can call your local library or community center.

But all of these resources aren’t terribly helpful until you can define what you want out of a writing group.  If you’re looking for someone who views writing as a hobby, the aforementioned places will help you.  If you’re looking for someone to help you jump to the next level and write professionally, stay tuned for next week’s post:  How to Attend a Writing Conference

1.  Overview–unlike a synopsis for fiction, an overview explains the story behind your project, how it came to fruition and what makes your project timely and interesting to readers.

2.  Marketing–where you see your book sold and how you’ll position yourself to sell it.  Again, with nonfiction you have a wider range of outlets.  A cookbook, for example, can be sold in places other than book stores.  Kitchen supply stores, restaurants, food markets and boutiques are all potential outlets.  Marketing a nonfiction book presents great opportunities for creative placement.

3.  Promotion–how you’ll help sell your book.  Nonfiction lends itself to teaching and public speaking, so libraries, colleges, community centers, events and specialized groups like knitting clubs or model train clubs offer a broader reach than setting up a book signing at a local book store.  Most nonfiction topics lend themselves so neatly to easy promotion.  Let’s go back to the cookbook example.  An author of a cookbook can talk about their work on the radio, to students at a culinary school or in Family and Consumer Ed. classrooms, to people shopping at a farmer’s market or grocery store, to customers at a restaurant making their recipes.

4.  Competing books–in other words, what sets your book apart from the competition.  I’ve been researching other books in the vein of my current nonfiction project and it’s exciting to see how my work complements other work yet still fills a gap.  I look at this part of the book proposal as the strongest place to pitch your work.

5.  About the author–explaining how you’re qualified to write about your topic.  Again, more personal than a fiction piece’s cover letter.

6.  List of chapters

7.  Chapter-by-chapter summaries

8.  Sample chapters

Writing nonfiction presents different challenges, but writing a book proposal is one that surprised me–it’s far more enjoyable than writing a synopsis for fiction.

BookEnds, LLC posted a great discussion about the different parts of a book proposal with further explanation of each part.  Check it out!