Sticks and Stones?

-- Sticks and stones may break my bones (but words will never hurt me) --

It's a cute saying. False, but cute nonetheless.

Photo credit: Photoshop Player 2009 on Flickr

The fact of the matter is that the impact of words last far longer than a bruise or a broken bone. Words can shatter. Words can alter. Words are powerful.

Think of the words that continue to haunt you since high school. Think of the word that your significant other said, only once, but you never forgot. 


(Before you lecture me, yes, I get it -- the rhyme's goal is to encourage the reader to not allow words to hurt them, because after all, they are only words... audible expressions of air... tell me how that works out for you)

As writers, we have a fundamental issue to reconcile. We aspire to get our work in front of as many readers as possible. But do we really? Are we ready to take what comes with the territory?

I've met some writers, and know of many more, who have yet to put themselves out there. They don't like to share their work with others, afraid of the feedback. They don't want to be critiqued publicly. Not yet, they tell me.

Then there are those who do have their work our there, and the first negative comment on Amazon, or critical book review by a blogger causes a meltdown. Their reaction is either a public embarrassment or a psychological breakdown that throws them off track.

It seems to me that a successful writer is the resilient writer. 

FADE IN: Definition by dictionary.com

re·sil·ient

adjective /riˈzilyənt/  (of a substance or object) Able to recoil or spring back into shape after bending, stretching, or being compressed (of a person or animal) Able to withstand or recover quickly from difficult conditions

FADE OUT

I used to say that athletes were the most resilient type of people out there. Have you seen how a football or rugby player gets squashed by another giant? The very next moment, they're up on their feet, spitting out a tooth, then smiling. 

But I've come to realize that if a writer wants to last and produce material for a few decades, then they have to become the poster boy/girl for resiliency. 

My friend Webster says a resilient person can 'recover quickly from a difficult condition.' Check. Writers are bombarded by the most damaging type of 'difficult conditions.' We are judged and punished by words for our words, for our art, for our babies. 


They're judging us! Us! Who do they think they are?

Reality check, the best are judged and critizized. King, Rowling, and everyone before them and after them have been told and will be told they suck. This is the nature of art. More than ever, everyone is a stinkin' critic. And you can't stop the democratization of opinion. 


How will you handle it? Will you implode, or will you sit in front of your computer and produce more? 


Butt in the seat, or your face in the sink? Choose.


Only one will produce art and make you better. Only one will stop you from pursing your dreams.

Words by others will hurt. And that's okay. We need to absorb that, acknowledge them then move forward--always move forward. If we're going to let words hurt us to the point that they stop us, then maybe we should consider an easier vocation. Maybe rugby?

Fight the good fight!

The Risk With Revisions

Since September, I've been engaged in this wonderful thing called revisions.

No, I'm not a sadist (or is it masochist? which one likes to be punished? I forget). I really do enjoy spending time with my characters in my story world.

But there are risks with revisions.

If you're like me, when you finished your first "this is it!" draft, you got your manuscript out to a handful of beta readers. They probably picked up a few (a thousand or so) mistakes.

If you happen to have a couple of extra bucks (or euros, or Thai Baht, or whatever you use) you might have even hired a proof reader who found every single stray comma, adverb, or you-name-the-offense that reared its ugly head in your manuscript.

But then something else happened... you discovered that you had holes. Or you could do some scenes better. Instead of telling the reader "He was pissed," you showed, "He pulled off his belt and bit into the leather, yelling until tears burnt his cheeks."

This is the area of risk.

The moment you make updates to the story, whether a line, a paragraph or a whole new chapter, you have introduced the possibility of silly errors. We are human after all, are we not?

What's my solution to this? No, I do not want to bother my eagle-eye readers, or pay a few hundred drakma to an editor again (apparently, my children have expectations of being fed).

Read Out Loud

When you are done, reread that chapter out loud. It may seem odd at first, but this is the most effective tool a self-editor must use. In fact, reading out loud is a critical piece of my revision process. I read the entire manuscript out loud and as I read, I find mistakes, and more importantly, lines that don't sound right.

Let Technology Work For you

Although you should (must) read out loud, you will not catch everything.

Sometimes, your eyes overlook the obvious. Example:

• breath or breathe
• through or though
• lighting or lightening

We've all seen it happen. That one little letter gets passed us, just to embarrass us. After all, you've written the darn thing, and if you're like me, you know those lines so well that you can almost recite it without reading each word. Unfortunately, I am not able to turn off my automatic read-ahead mind. I'm not that disciplined.

As I've said before, I use (and love) Scrivener.

[Soap Box: If you don't use Scrivener, I don't understand. At $45, it is the single most powerful tool you will ever use as a writer. Visit my friend Gwen Hernandez's site to learn how to use it. Even better, sign up for her class.]

When I'm done editing, I highlight the paragraph in question, right-click and choose "Speech" --> "Start Talking."

(Note, you can do this in MS Word also, but I'd rather pretend that everyone uses Scrivener)

On the Mac, the voice of the reader is fairly decent. The beauty is that you hear the mistakes immediately. As I listen to the narrator, all I do is highlight words, or sections that sound odd. I don't edit right then and there. I don't want to miss other mistakes that the narrator may pick up.

In Scrivener (or Word) highlighting is fast. So you won't miss more than a micro second at best.

Or you can do this with hard copy of your manuscript at hand. Listen and follow along on the printed document. When something catches your ear, highlight it.

When you hit the end of the chapter. Correct the mistakes. But wait, you're not done. Listen to the corrected section one more time. Yes! Do it. Be picky. This is your work. Listen again. Make sure you didn't just introduce another mistake.

I use the computer narrator all the time. It's a powerful feature. And although listening to the whole book is time-intensive, it is invaluable. The things you hear, will surprise you. Also, the experience of hearing your story read back to you is fresh and powerful.

I highly recommend it. Give it a shot.

Do you have any special tricks? If you try this technique, let me know if it works for you.

Fight the good fight!