Drafts of all three books in my proposed trilogy (and a single sheet of paper to spare!)
Experts are adamant that you shouldn’t do it.
When you’ve written the first book in a series that you want to have traditionally published—or rather a book that has “series potential”, to use the correct querying parlance—they say you absolutely should not write a sequel (or sequels) until the first book is sold.
It was supposed to be a beat sheet I was creating for my next WIP.
I’ve always considered myself a plotter. I’m very fond of pantsing my way through revisions, rewriting a scene five times in quick succession if need be rather than taking the time to outline the most feasible approach.
Writing is hard. No one is going to disagree with that.
Often, writers don’t even know which aspects of writing they struggle with the most; those unknown unknowns of writing, which by nature are that much more difficult to address.
(Continued from Part 1)
Last week, I wrote about the care I take with word choice in writing
Specifically, the first of three questions that I ask myself in attempting to create a narrative that sounds of a bygone era for historical fiction.
As writers, we all naturally pay close attention to the words we use in our prose.
Being a writer of historical fiction has made me even more mindful of word choice.
Years ago, on a now defunct blog of mine, I discussed the notion of pitching a novel to an agent or editor.
Specifically, on February 26, 2006, I wrote the following:
I’m often of two minds about things when it comes to writing.
Case in point: in my previous post, I argued that physical descriptions of characters of the sort that itemize their hair colour, eye colour, height, and hair style are largely irrelevant to the plot and point of most stories.
Last year, while having parts of my WIP critiqued by a CP, I received an unexpected bit of feedback.
It had to do with the physical description of a certain character. Specifically, the fact that, in her mind, I hadn’t provided a physical description at all.
It was a tweet I could have written myself:
(At least the first part of the tweet; it’s pretty hard to create a duology out of a story that’s already been envisioned as a trilogy!)
If I didn’t go now, I’d have to wait until 2021.
It was this—the inherent uncertainty of any long gap of time—that convinced me to go to the recent writers’ conference of the Historical Novel Society’s North American chapter, held June 20-23 in Oxon Hill, Maryland.
Writers’ conferences are expensive, even more so with the exchange from Canadian dollars for those held in the United States. Still, as a writer of historical fiction, I felt it was important for me to go.