The Secret to an Awesome Novel? Science Knows. Kinda.

Rest assured, plebeian writers of Earth: science can now solve all your problems!
That’s right: Science has cracked the code to a best-selling novel! And the answer is…
Wait, this can’t be right. The answer is…” heavy use of conjunctions such as “and” and “but” and large numbers of nouns and adjectives.”
The Telegraph reported on this story, which says that Stony Brook University in New York used science to analyze the best-selling novels (and even poetry!) to analyze what factors led to one book becoming successful over another. They found their analysis could predict with an 84 percent accuracy whether or not a book was successful.
But it’s pretty hard to take this and figure out what, exactly, made one book successful (perhaps–dare I say?–authoring is more art than science?).
The article says the secret to success was “range of factors determine whether or not a book will enjoy success, including “interestingness”, novelty, style of writing, and how engaging the storyline is, but admit that external factors such as luck can also play a role.”
So is there anything useful to authors here, in terms of boiling down the magic to success? Well, maybe.
First, it’s probably not a good idea to write Jaws except with a whale, but it still eats people and the boat is still too small. Being completely original (or “novel”) is certainly a challenge, but it pays off.
There’s no note on how “style of writing” or which style of writing leads to success, but that can be seen as another way of saying “develop your own voice.” Chuck Wendig’s writing “sounds” very different from Joe Hill’s. The only real way to do that is by writing.
“Engaging” and “interestingness” might be ways of saying “keep things moving.” That can be a struggle in some stories, but as you edit, be sure to ask yourself “does this move the story along, or is this scene filler”? I’ve been playing through the “LEGO Lord of the Rings” game and it has made me realize how, while the background story is very basic, Tolkien really kept throwing new perils at the little Hobbits (oh, you managed to survive that horde of orcs? Great. How about an Oliphant?!)
Regarding the “heavy use of conjunctions”: that sounds like “complex writing” to me. It means using advanced writing forms, rather than a series of simple sentences. That takes skill and, again, practice. You could take a class in this (or hire a good editor to help connect the dots), but the best thing you can do is just keep doing it. And read the good stuff; you’ll pick up on the rhythms subconsciously.
It’s great that they acknowledge luck. I’m very grateful for that, because too often a lot of “how to write” books make it sound like you really can boil down some sort of methodology and it comes across as a get-rich-quick scam. It’s not. Just keep chugging.
I am not particularly worried that an agent, editor or publisher is going to start running manuscripts through the SuccessCalculator5000 anytime soon, so this study gives me a rudimentary baseline: Do good work, and keep doing it.

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Disappointment and New Decisions

After waiting for 15 months, I finally heard back from HarperVoyager’s open submission contest yesterday.
Considering the odds (12 selected out of more than 4,500!), it isn’t surprising that I got a rejection. But it sucks to be so close (in the final week!) and yet still not be among those selected. (Worse, I just got a form letter. I had been hoping for maybe something more personal–and helpful in terms of understanding what to change–since I am in the final tier.)
On the other hand, each piece was looked over by several editors and other readers, and they liked my work enough to keep it to the bitter end. That means it must be pretty strong, right? Nigh-publishable, even if not exactly to their particular taste? That, in a way, is good news.
It’s still a bitter feeling to have waited so long and come so close, but I’m trying to take a positive feeling from it. It does, however, leave me to wait for new decisions: What do I do now?
I submitted that manuscript, Alt.World, to HarperVoyager’s contest because I had already gone through an unsuccessful round of queries that got me little response, and I was emotionally exhausted by the process. But now I have new hope and renewed energy, and I think I am going to spend a few months at least, using all that I’ve learned about writing a good query letter, to pitch it to agents again and restart the process.
However, it is a tough choice, and sometimes I wonder about self-publishing it and going (hopefully) the Wool route. It is a near-future speculative fiction work, after all, and I have some concerns that it is a little too close to real-world timelines. I feel like there is an imperative to get it out relatively soon before it becomes less relevant.
Tough choices.

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Worldbuilding 101: For Authors

This talk has nice animation, but doesn’t get to the good stuff until about 3 minutes in.

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January 25, 2014 · 2:35 pm

Things Are Interesting in Spamalot World

While I’ve been waiting to hear back from HarperVoyager regarding their open submissions (just two more weeks! Oh the email-checking anxiety!), I’ve been feverishly inspecting my spam folder, just in case something slipped into the wrong folder. And boy has it been interesting.
I seem to have a fairly solid spam-catcher, and that means I have been missing out on a wealth of bizarre emails.
Now, it used to be easy to disregard spam as spammy–everything was just churning out viruses disguised as viagra. Nowadays, though, boy howdy they have gotten diverse. I’m starting to question my understanding of the spam-bots, too, developing a more earnest and empathetic relationship. Sure, it used to be low-AI robots who assumed only men existed on the internet (and only easily fooled, poorly literate, horny to distraction men at that).
But they’ve stepped up their game, and I’m mildly impressed (not sufficiently impressed to, you know, click them, but still!).
First, we have our tried-and-true category of spammers trying to convince netizens to click a link that will lead them to an attractive and desperately sexually deprived woman to talk to. That’s nice, really doing a service for all the lonely housewives out there, right? They’ve gotten better at their human-like come-ons, too; now I have fake Facebook messages, fake Ashley Madison solicitations; fake “I saw you on the subway” messages.
Basically I think we’re seeing the first steps to an AI that can successfully replace our prostitutes. (Oh noes, they be stealin’ our jobs!)
Now we also have the “exotic investment” category. This is traditionally propelled by the “long lost Nigerian prince” type of scam, but the scammers are hip and with it: they now offer to sell me Bitcoins at a low rate, and sometimes they even have a treasure trove of gold and silver they got from someone’s basement. What a deal!
In light of the Target debit/credit card breach, it’s also relevant to highlight the “I’m totes a legit business” type of spam. It’s not just Target, though; these guys cleverly disguise themselves as all sorts of companies. Banks, Starbucks, Kohls, random online dealers I know nothing about. These aren’t particularly convincing, though–spammers, you may want to take a hint from fake-Facebook-friend-Adriana and get more human.
Dear Spammers: It’s nice to see you’re evolving. Keep up the good work! But…don’t be so good that my filter can’t detect you. 
XoXo
-Me

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To Sleep: An Ode to Early Morning

A bit of flash writing, in celebration of one of my favorite activities: sleeping. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

—————-

To Sleep: An Ode to Early Morning

Everything is heavy. I’m pressed against the mattress, breathing in my own warm air, comfortably squeezed by gravity and my heavy blanket. The light is dim and everything is perfect.

Right now, in this moment, I am only myself. I am not my hands, nor my job, nor my friendships; I am not the number in my bank account (or not in my wallet), or responsible to anyone but myself. I am not even a body. I am a wisp, weighted down only by the memory of a body.  With my eyes closed, I am just thoughts in the darkness, drifting in perfect contentment.

This is happiness, or the nearest thing to it, because as long as I stay half-asleep I have no need of emotions, the wanton rages that make me tingle and burn up and down my skin. Anxiety has left me, and all that is left is a deep simmering joy; I am and am not.

I think about moving, why I’m not exactly sure. A moment prior it would have been unimaginable, but my limbs are quickening all of their own accord, so I stretch and roll languorously. There is peaceful bliss in this as well. My shoulders move easily, warm  and eager, the muscle slipping around the bone with a welcoming happy hug. My toes point and flex in the squiggly bits of sheet down at the bottom of the bed. My little cocoon of warmth remains, but now that I’ve shifted, one side is just a bit cooler.

This, too, is perfect.

I can hear now. The house is buzzing quietly with its gentle hum. A machine in the kitchen whirring as the electrons zolt by. The wind thrumming against the window in random cadence. A groan from a beam somewhere deep within a wall. Maybe a bird singing a tune as it flutters.

Even behind my closed eyelids, light blooms. The sun is tiptoeing through the curtains which never lay quite flat. It blankets the bed, a little at a time, warming eyelids to a soft red.

I resolve to run from it, so I roll again, hiding my eyes against the dark and cool of my cotton pillowcase, snuggling down closer under the blanket. But this was a mistake; this choice was too conscious and the neurons in my brain take it as a cue that they can begin to dance.

My day marches before me, unfolding like a fabric fan, each panel decorated with a chore, a task. I squint my eyes to force it back, but too late. The nagging questions arrive: How much time do I have before the project is due? Do I have enough toilet paper? What was that phone number again?

I bury my head under the pillow, but any comfort there is lost in the warming light.

The brigade of questions will not stop. There is no choice but to acquiesce.

Begrudgingly, I roll over, sitting up until the blankets puddle in my lap. I stretch and yawn, and my feet find their way to the floor. Momentum will handle the rest.

The day is begun.

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The Rise of the Genius Asshole

I hope I’m wrong about this, but in recent years I’ve noticed something: the Genius Asshole can do anything he* wants, at the expense of almost anyone he wants, and still be nigh-deified. In other words, it doesn’t matter if you are a complete failure as a human being, as long as you have some success.
Example one: Steve Jobs.
Don’t get me wrong: I love Apple products and I think he was literally a genius at predicting consumer needs and doing amazing things. But he has seriously had a sort of cult form around him (or, rather, the idea of him), and I find that a little alarming when you dig even a little bit into his personal life. He had a daughter that he refused to acknowledge for years; he habitually yelled at employees and threw temper-tantrums; he called in the middle of the night with unrealistic expectations for work; he is “fondly” remembered as a “slavedriver.”
It seems all that has created a “results are all that matters” outlook. It doesn’t matter that he was kind of a jerk to everyone around him; consumers got what they wanted.
Nationally broadcast but locally hosted radio DJ extraordinaire Kidd Kraddick just passed away, and his death has brought attention to his life, as so often happens. And he seems to follow a very similar formula as Jobs. Both were beloved. Both invented something from essentially nothing and worked relentlessly. Both are considered overbearing and difficult by those close to them. The personal assistant to Kraddick said working for him was “hell.” He also enjoyed the “call employees in the middle of the night with ridiculous demands” trick.
(Morbidly? They both died relatively young.)
It seems Walt Disney was also a Genius Asshole. He was overbearing, anti-semetic, and kind of a bully. Meryl Streep had some excellent remarks on his legacy.
Maybe it’s just me, but I have zero desire to work with or for someone like this, regardless of how “inspired” they may be. Intelligence, real intelligence, is sadly undervalued in our society, but genius — when it works, anyway — is praised to no end. But I was taught that intelligence wasn’t the end-all-be-all; kindness is. And there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of kindness or even basic empathy in the backstories of these men. Personally, I think you should just write down your super-great-middle-of-the-night idea; why can’t we work on it at sunrise?  And I say that as someone who is particularly driven and can’t stop working on things; heck, maybe I say it because I’m like that. I value that time off, and I think it should be respected.
Maybe it’s just part of America’s culture of workaholicism. I had hoped that was easing, but looking at our idols, it seems maybe not.
What do you think? Is there a connection between Genius and Assholery? Or am I missing the mark entirely?
*So far, I’ve mostly noticed the male variety, so I’ll use that pronoun, but that doesn’t mean the female Genius Asshole doesn’t exist. Yahoo! CEO Marissa Meyer seems to be making a run for the “office,” at least when she took away the company’s generous work-from-home policy, but it’s yet to be seen if she will be seen as either a success or sufficiently worshipped by others.

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Is Your Character Stuck with a Fad Name?

I read an absolutely fascinating article on baby names, and how they change over time and how some names sort of move in packs and what is currently going on with the state of baby-naming (hello, yoonik names!). It’s really delicious.
The only things I’ve named recently are my cats (after literary characters) and my car (Sassafras, because she’s so Sassy — also, the word sounds really cool). With no kids to inflict odd names upon, I’m left with the people I make up for stories.
A quick review of recent name choices for my characters offers a smattering of my friends’ names, a cluster of intentionally old Biblical names, one “scifi” variation on a historical name, a few names tied to jobs and fibers for a cult of characters, and a bunch of fairly generic common American names.
I feel like I need to now take those names (or at least those of significant characters) and run them through the name research gauntlet as Wait But Why did.
Picking a character name is tricky. Maybe — dare I say it? — harder than picking a baby’s name. Bear with me here: a kid grows into a person. Over time, they aren’t defined by their name, necessarily, but it becomes just an appellation attached to that person. Sure, we may say that “John” is a “good strong name,” for example, but if John the kid turns out to be kinda puny in the strength department, we don’t think he is a failure as a “John.”
But a character? Well, they should grow, certainly, but they exist, fully formed, before the reader even enters the story. And a name is one way for the author to tell the reader something about the character. (I’m looking at you, Hunger Games).
Plus books take the “weird name” thing to a whole new level, with stories in different universes, fantasy scenarios, the far future. Heck, I’m reading “The Shipping News” now, and the main character’s name is “Quoyle,” as in a coil of rope. (There’s a rope/ship repeating pattern throughout.)
So names can really matter. Sometimes it seems like authors just take a “real” name and screw with the letters to make a character name, like “The Left Hand of Darkness.” Fantasy has a lot of names that are actually other nouns, often nature-related. Or names drawn from ancient Greece or Rome. (Related: Does anyone know where JRR Tolkien got the names for Lord of the Rings? Like, is there a guy out there who was named Frodo who got a lot of unwanted attention when it first came out?).
Naming a character can be loaded and fraught. How do you choose? Careful analysis and selection? Name origins? Concocted names? Or do you just go down a baby name generator and spin until something feels good?

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A Stegosaurus Blasted My Gender Stereotypes

stegasaurus, stomping gender normsI consider myself to be pretty thoughtful regarding gender issues. I was the kid in kindergarten who, when asked to draw a doctor, scribbled a woman in a lab coat, not a man (earth-shattering at the time, let me tell you (I’m sure this had nothing to do with the fact that my doctor was a woman and we watched  Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman as a family. Nothing.)) I care about feminist issues and try to be considerate of the issues faced by LBGTQ individuals. I made a female lead character for my science fiction dystopia and wrote a genderless novel for my gamebook.
I think about this stuff a lot.
And yet, I still have so much to learn sometimes. Unconscious biases can be a bitch.
Neil Gaiman was my teacher, as he has been so many times previously. And he did it with a children’s book.
You’ve read Fortunately, The Milk by now, right? I mean, I gave it a breathlessly positive review, so you definitely went out and bought it already, right?
Well, if not, you may not want to read the rest of this post, because of spoilers.
Anyway, I read Fortunately, The Milk. (And it’s marvelous. Practically perfect in the most Mary Poppins way.) One of the main characters is a time-traveling stegasaurus named Dr. Steg. (I mean, of course).
I’m as enchanted by the story and the misadventures as the children in the story, and then… everything came to a screeching halt.
90% of the way through the book, you are informed that Dr. Steg is a “madam.”
LADY DINOSAUR ALERT
To be fair, this comes as a surprise to the narrator/father as well, but this really hit me like a ton of bricks. Why did it throw me off so much? Why did I automatically assume Dr. Steg was a Mr. Dr. Steg?
I’ve given this some thought, and I think there are several reasons:
  • The drawings include no eyelashes or gaudy bows, cultural codes for “lady cartoon.”
  • The drawing depicts a rather heavyset dinosaur. Often, absent other markers, heavyset cartoons are male.
  • Dinosaurs are “boy things.”
  • Despite my kindergarten drawings, doctors, particularly “sciencey” doctors, are male.
  • Time-travelers are male.
— And they all still amount to “you still probably shouldn’t have made that assumption.”
And that’s what triggered me to write this post. Question your assumptions. It doesn’t have to be “that way,” even — especially! — if that is how it has always been done. (I mean, I’d like to see someone write some elves that are not musical, arrow-wielding, thin blond people. (Yes, I’ve just seen The Hobbit…)).
What assumptions did you have squashed by a fiction book?

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Review: Fortunately, The Milk

Fortunately, the MilkFortunately, the Milk by Neil Gaiman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Bring a smile to your face, and go buy Fortunately, The Milk. This is a book that EVERYONE needs to enjoy. It is delightful, in every sense of the word.

Fortunately, The Milk is ostensibly a children’s book, in the same vein as Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book or anything from Doctor Seuss. It would be good to think of it as the best combinations of both these literary gems. Not quite a chapter book but longer than a picture book, the hardcover edition has images on nearly every page, seamlessly interwoven with Neil Gaiman’s text. You’ll want to read it aloud; you’ll pore over every beautiful scribble by Eisner-winning artist Skottie Young**; you’ll laugh at the absurdity; you’ll ponder the ending with reverence.

This book is pure distilled happiness, and you need to have it.

I had the privilege of hearing Neil read from Fortunately, The Milk when it was still a twinkle in his publisher’s eye, at the book tour for The Ocean at the End of the Lane. Sure, everyone, reader and critic alike, is fawning over Ocean, but my favorite part was definitely Fortunately. It was just so fun.

It is a book that exalts fathers, and children, and, most of all, vibrant imaginations. The premise is sacchrine-simple: A family runs out of milk just before breakfast, and father goes to get some. He is gone what seems like an awfully long time. When he gets back, his hungry children wonder where he has been, so he answers them. The story involves pirates, piranhas, time-travel (someone is a Doctor Who fan, for sure!), a volcano god, the invention of the button, aliens, and more, because I’m probably forgetting someone or something.

You won’t be able to look at your everyday errands the same way.

Buy this book, then snuggle up to your kids (or your special friend, or your sweetest pet, or even just a really cozy blankie), and read. Make sure you do all the voices; that’s the way it really should be done.

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**This is amazing, but I have gotten to meet both Skottie and Neil. Neil at the aforementioned book tour, and Skottie at ComicCon, the day he won the Eisner. So wonderful, both of them!

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A Few Suggestions To Help You Complete Your Resolutions

I said on Tuesday that I’m one of those “make a resolution” people. I totally am. I just printed off a list of 5 goals, some with sub-goals to help me achieve the main goals.

But what are these goals? I’m not telling.

Why? A TED Talk told me not to.

Basically, the speaker says that we get such a mental “hit” from talking about our ambitious goals that our brains get confused and feel like we have actually achieved those goals, making us, weirdly, less likely to actually complete them.

BUT! It’s still a good idea to have goals, even if they are tiny. I really love this talk about SuperBetter, a “game” that helps you improve your life.

So that’s pretty cool.

How do you make resolutions that actually stick? NPR can help you out with that.

And then, if you need a little burst of inspiration, check out long-distance swimmer Diana Nyad.

I mean, your resolution probably doesn’t involve sharks, now does it?

Just keep swimming, folks. And good luck with all those goals!

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