Query Letter

This is the current draft of the query letter I'm writing for my novel Bleed Well. If you have any suggestions, please please please let me know so I can make this as good as possible.

    When Fredrick finds a small deer following him through the forest, he remembers the teachings in the temple about how the creatures of the forest were gods and should be treated with respect. But instead of treating this as an honor, his frustration with life, love, and his failed dreams grab hold of him and refuse to let go. He picks up a rock and bashes in the deer’s skull.
    Later that morning, Fredrick confesses to one of the village elders about his profane actions in an attempt to figure out why he killed the deer. But instead of giving him answers or assuaging his concerns, the elder rebukes him and warns the gods are going to be furious. Shortly after their discussion, the elder’s premonitions become reality when a nearby volcano erupts and disaster strikes the village. After the fires are put out and all villagers, dead and alive, are accounted for, the elders gather for an emergency meeting. Unanimously, they determine Fredrick was the cause of the disaster and banish him from the village forever.

Homeless and alone, Fredrick must embark on a journey to right his wrongs and appease the gods in order to save himself and everybody his loves from annihilation.

Again, any suggestions would be GREATLY appreciated

My Best Beta Reaser

    I’ve realized that my wife has found the address to both my blog and my twitter username! So I had to quickly take down all the porn and such, and I converted this site into a writers blog...phew. I hope she didn’t see it before :P

    Anyways I would like to share a couple thoughts on one of the best beta readers I’ve got. Yes, it’s my wife, Kelly.
    Most of the time, we are warned as writers to steer clear of our family members for betas because they can sugarcoat the problems in your work, or worse yet, they won’t tell you at all. While this is good for a confidence boost, it doesn’t really help your writing.
    But Kelly is different. She will point out where the pacing seems slow, or mostly in my case, rushed. She’ll tell me when characters seem off and don’t have the right motivation. She’ll tell me where my writing is weak and even where I’ve abused or underused pronouns. She’s even not afraid to tell me when something just sounds plain awkward.
    But then once I’ve gotten all battered and bruised and my ego is back where it probably should be, she has a way of dressing those wounds without re-inflating that dreaded ego. It’s pretty amazing what she does.
    So Kelly, thanks again for being my #1 beta reader, and since you’re reading this now...can you hurry up with Chapter 28? ;)

    Love you.

My first face to face critique group

This Saturday I met with my first in-person critique group and let me say boy was I nervous. We had to bring 3-5 pages of a recent piece of work with us to read out loud for the group. The night before I went over my first chapter of Bleed Well many times. I read it to my wife, who had already read a number of version of it, and just needed a little bit of encouragement. She tried to give it to me, but let's just say I'm not in danger of her being too nice to me when it comes to my work.

But after a couple good suggestions from her, I got a version that she said was passable. That was probably the best thing she as ever said about something I've written, so I was actually feeling alright.

But then in the morning I started to have my doubts again. I mean my wife, as brutally honest as she is, is not a writer. What would these people say? What would they find? I would just have to wait.

I got to the restaurant about 30min early so I could try and talk to these people before hand, but as it turns out, the it opened right when the meeting as supposed to start. Rats. What could I do now but worry about my manuscript? Luckily it was near a mall with a B&N and I killed some time there.

Once the meeting started I was again nervous, but as we introduced ourselves, I found out I wasn't the only person there who was at their first critique group. There were actually two others, and one of the women was also new to the group. That made me feel good that at least I wasn't the weird new guy there (Oh yea, I was the only guy...Flashbacks of AP English all over again)

They started reading their works and I started to fall into a good comfort zone. I heard a lot of really great things, but I felt like I was also able to give some pretty good feedback for them as well. (One of the writers though was absolutely AMAZING! If I was reading that in a bookstore, I told her, I would be at the checkout only a couple pages in).

Finally, my turn came and to my delight, they didn't tell me I was the worst writer in the world and should go to hell. Phew. They actually like it. Nobody saw anything structurally wrong and thought it was a good beginning. I did get some good feedback though on a couple lines that should probably be tweaked to make it work better, but overall I left with my ego in tact and good suggestions for my WIP.

I will be going back there for sure, because for one, I got good feedback. For two, it was nice to meet other people face to face who were writers like  me. It's a lonely hobby/profession, so face to face contact is always a good thing.

Overall it was a great experience and like every other writer says, FIND A CRITIQUE GROUP IF YOU WANT TO TAKE YOUR WORK TO THE NEXT LEVEL.

Sample Chapter of Bleed Well

Fredrick dipped his clothes into the icy stream, letting the glacial water lift the blood from the fabric. His hands shook, and the rock lodged into the muddy bank sent a wave of nausea rolling through his stomach. Downstream, the water turned a light pink, a silent witness to his crime. 

Once more, he checked to see if anybody followed him, but he was alone. “Evil...Destruction...Sacrifice...” he muttered, mimicking the phantom voices. Where did they come from? He clasped his hands together, plunged them into the water, and splashed it onto his face. He knelt, frozen, over the stream and thought of the small corpse resting in a pool of blood. Fredrick threw his shirt over his head and shivered while the wind whipped through the soaking fabric. With shaking legs, he stumbled down the mountain, grasping at the tree branches for support.

The early morning sun struck the valley floor and warmed everything it touched, but Fredrick remained cold, both outside and in. Back in his village, the smell of fresh bread wafting from the kitchen brought his nausea back. He staggered past the huts, keeping his head low and avoiding the community hut where most of the villagers were gathered.

He slipped behind the kitchen to get to avoid seeing anybody, but the moment he saw a clear path to his hut, somebody called out to him, "Good morning." Susan leaned out the kitchen window, shaking out a dishrag. A couple wisps of gray hair framed her sun-worn face, and as always, she was smiling.

Fredrick kicked at the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust and stones to turn back to her. The sound of her voice calmed his nerves, and his stomach settled. "Whatever you're baking this morning smell wonderful. Please tell me it's acorn bread."

"You're right. We thought that since everybody has been working so hard in the fields, you all deserved a little treat."

"Do you think you can sneak me a taste?" Fredrick said with a half smile.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. Everybody gets to eat at the same time."

"Not even for me? I'm practically your son."

Susan laughed. "I think you're a very special young man, but I don't think I could ever take the place of your mother. You'll always be her son." She dropped her dishrag on the window-ledge. "Come here anyways and give me a hug."

Fredrick stepped closer and leaned into the window, wrapping his arms around her in a solid embrace. He pressed himself against her, feeling her heart beat and a wholesome warmth radiating from her. "Thank you for everything, Susan."

"It was my pleasure." She pulled away from him. "Your shirt, it's soaking. And you...you're freezing. Where have you been?"

"I went up into the mountains this morning."

"You know I don't like it when you go up there."

"I know you worry about that, but trust me, I'll be fine.” Fredrick glanced down at his hands which were trembling.

"I'm just afraid that one day some evil spirit is going to cast a curse on you. Then you're going to slip, fall, and crack your skull against a rock, and you'll lie there in the mud while some wild animal eats your liver."

"That might have worked when I was still young, but--"

"You should take my warning to heart. I don't want anything bad happening to you, and I certainly don't want you offending the gods."

A shiver swept through his body. "No, I wouldn't want to do that."

Susan reached out and caressed his cheek. "What's wrong? Something's different."

"I..." He brushed her hand away. "Nothing's wrong." He ran his fingers through his long, black hair.

"You can't hide anything from me. The gods and I can see right through you."

"Maybe I'm a little nervous--"

"Anna?"

"What?"

"Are you going to ask Anna to marry you today? Is that it?"

"No."

Susan smiled and picked up her dishrag. "I think that's it. You're nervous because you're going to finally do it."

Fredrick leaned against the kitchen, facing the temple. "I like her, but she would never say yes to me...I just don't share--"

"Just because she's always at the temple doesn't mean you and her can't get along."

"Yes, it does. We're friends, but we're just too different. She's so pious and I'm--"

"You're special." Susan reached behind her and broke off a piece of bread, giving a small piece to Fredrick. "May the gods smile down upon you."

"Thanks." He took the warm bread and ate it. The nutty flavor filled his stomach and began to warm him from within. "It's very good."

"Go see her."

"Thank you...You've always been so good to me."

"Go, go. Quit wasting your time and ask her already."

He started off towards the temple, his shoulders pulled back, radiating confidence. Susan cried out to him, but the sound never registered in his mind; his thoughts focused on Anna.

At the temple, he paused and ran his fingers around the sculptures of bears, vultures, rats, and rams, carved into the smooth stone walls. He peeled his fingers off the rock and looked up at the bell-tower that pierced the sky from the valley floor. It stood as tall as five grown men, and perched on top, a statue of an eagle grasped a thistle in its talons. Fredrick closed his eyes and pictured himself flying over the mountains and away from the village.

From inside, he could hear a woman's voice. It resonated clear and crisp, full of excitement, yet laced with reverence; it commanded the attention of the room. Fredrick walked along the wall to the opening of the temple and there, surrounded by children, stood Anna.

The children were caught up in the web of her story. Their heads followed her every movement and so did Fredrick. His eyes focused on her soft, smooth, lips with just enough color to give them distinction, but not so much that they looked unnatural. They were perfect. Fredrick studied her fine cheeks and sleek, black hair, then rested his head up against the wall.

Anna's arms whipped through the air as she approached the climax, and the children gathered in closer, staring up at her with their mouths open. Suddenly, Anna looked up and saw Fredrick. She stopped, letting her hands drop to her side. The children, curious to see what had interrupted their story, turned around, and with their innocent eyes, glared at him.

"Look at that. Fredrick came to try and listen in again." Anna acknowledged one of the girls in the group. "Elizabeth, do you want some boring old adult hanging around here while we try to have fun?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No."

Anna squatted down next to her. "And why's that?"

"Because old people are boring."

Anna laughed and smiled at Fredrick. "You know you can't be interrupting me every morning. I have a job to do." She dropped her eyes towards Elizabeth. "Plus, you're boring." The children broke into laughter.

Fredrick leaned against the door frame. "They're allowed to stay." He pointed at the parents in the far corner.

"Those people?" said Elizabeth. "You're not that old."

He took a step forward. "Will you at least sit with me at breakfast?"

She shrugged. "We'll see. But from what my kids have indicated, there might be more interesting people to talk to." Anna and the children laughed again, and Fredrick walked out towards the village; a chill ran down his spine. Anna called out, "We were just joking..." He didn't turn back.

Fredrick escaped towards his hut. It looked identical to every other hut in the village: a one room wooden structure with a simple thatched roof. Inside, he had a small bed with a straw mattress, a jar of nuts, and a book on a table. Tucked away in a corner, a small pile of dirty clothes sat, begging to be washed. Fredrick gathered them up and took them to the river.

"Evil...Destruction...Sacrifice." he muttered again to himself while he walked through the village. What did it mean? What were they trying to tell me?

Phillip and his wife, Karlie, one of oldest couples in the village, were already at the river. Phillip sat perched on the bank, washing their laundry, while Karlie whittled a small piece of wood. Fredrick knelt beside Phillip in the mud and placed his clothes on a boulder. With his head down, he took one of his shirts, dipped it into the river, and began rubbing it against a rock, avoiding eye-contact with Phillip.

Phillip asked, "How are you today?"

Fredrick grabbed another shirt, covered in dried mud from the fields, and dipped it into the river. The dirt mixed with the water, lifting out of the fabric, and floated away with the current. "I've been better. How about you?"

"Remarkable!" said Phillip. "It's great to finally have a voice, you know? I've waited almost sixty years to get a seat as an elder, and now that it's come, it just feels great."

"That's right." Fredrick's voice was flat. "I'm happy for you. Quite happy." He violently scrubbed his shirt against the rock. "What's Karlie doing?"

Phillip pulled a pair of her pants from the river. "Ha! My crazy old wife--I never quite understand anything she does anymore. And even when I do--why don't you just ask her?"

Fredrick removed his shirt from the water, but some dirt remained. He laid it across a nearby boulder to dry and walked over to Karlie. "What are you working on?"

She put down her knife. "I'm making a new voting stick for the elders. Actually, now I'm just working on the beads."

"It looks nice, but why?"

"Have you looked at the one we use now?"

Fredrick sat down next to her and picked up the knife, spinning it in his palm. "Yes, but why are you making a new one?"

"The old one is ugly, crude, old, and falling apart. It needs to be replaced."

He handed Karlie the knife then picked up one of the beads. "Why now? Because of Phillip?"

She shrugged. "I guess. When I saw him move his first bead on that stick...it was supposed to be one of the proudest moments in my life, but I kept looking at that stick, thinking that I could do better, that I should do something about it." She stuck the knife into the ground. "So I decided to make a new voting stick, something that me and everybody else in our village could really appreciate." She paused for a moment. "I consider this my offering to the gods this year."

Fredrick examined the bead in his hand. "What are you carving on this one?"

"Once I'm done, that one will show a woman working in the fields." She took the bead from Fredrick and looked at it herself. "I want to make the voting stick a true representation of our village. It's something sacred, so it should be beautiful. Not some old piece of scrap wood with a fading white paint, plain as an overcast sky." She tossed the bead back at Fredrick. "The day that we toss that old stick into the fire will be good day."

Fredrick placed the bead on the ground next to Karlie, and Phillip came over, holding a pile of clothes. "I'm done here. Let's go get ready for breakfast."

"They made acorn bread. It's delicious." said Fredrick.

Phillip stared at Fredrick. "How do you know? Did you have some already? You know that is not allowed."

"I..." Fredrick tried to say something, but nothing came to mind.

Phillip shook his head muttering to himself. Karlie gathered up her beads, placed them in a bag, and rose from the ground. Before she walked away, she stared towards a meadow across the river. "Look over there." She pointed. "There, do you see them, a family of deer?" Karlie bowed her head and kissed the back of her hand. "The gods have blessed this morning."

Fredrick backed away, and a weight dropped into his stomach. Phillip asked, "What's the matter? You look sick."

Fredrick took a couple steps away from the river. "I have to go." He kept backing up, watching the deer as the voices returned to his head. He turned around and ran towards the village, leaving his clothes on the bank.

Update on my novel

It's been a while since I've talked about the main novel I'm working on, which is currently called Bleed Well. Right now, I'm still getting chapters back from Betas, and they have given me some pretty good advice. I hope to have the edits they have suggested done by the end of May. (Yes I know I didn't reach my goal of being ready to submit by the end of April, so I've pushed it back) But I feel like things are coming along well.

What I've found odd though is that some days I can read a section of my novel and feel like a complete hack. My prose sounds choppy, characters seem flat, the story sounds preachy, and the plot feels invisible. But then other days I'm in awe of my writing. I still don't know why I have this variation, but it does seem to follow my mood.

Overall though I am happy with the project, but since it's my first novel, I don't have high expectations for the reception it will receive from agents/publishers. Even if nobody else reads it, I'm glad I have written it, because I feel like I've learned a lot from it, plus I feel like I've really started to establish my voice.

Hopefully I'll perhaps post a sample chapter up in a couple days to get some feedback from the community

Almost Time to Submit

It's been a while since I've updated everybody on the status of my novel, and there might even be some people reading this blog that have not even heard about it yet.

Anyways, the working title is called Bleed Well. It's about a man, Fredrick, who recently moved back to his native village up in the mountains. Then, when he is walking about one morning, a deer, possessed by one of the gods, walks up to him and he starts hearing the voices of his dead parents. Fredrick freaks out and bashes the deer's skull in with a rock. This unleashes a fury of events that complicate Fredrick's life, and he must struggle to put the pieces back together.

That's a pretty crappy little blurb, but I didn't quite want to just post what I have for my query letter. Perhaps later.

So where I'm at right now is I'm finishing up the second-to-last revisions, while I do the final polish on some of the earlier chapters. (I do my edits in waves that allows me to work on 3 or 4 different parts of the novel at the same time) At the rate I'm going, I should be done with everything by the middle of April (dependent on the beta readers) and then I'll start submitting to agents.

I already have my afore mentioned query letter mostly done, and I've got a pretty large chapter by chapter summary that I'm eventually going to work into a 5, 3, and 1 page synopsis.

That's what's going on with my novel. Hopefully it is well received once it goes out, and I'll try to blog more on the status as I get closer to this exciting time!

Keep the Creativity Flowing

Some quick and (as always) free advice while you’re out editing your WIP. Make sure you make time to write something new.

This is crucial for any writer, but especially a novelist. As I’ve found, you can spend many months on the editing process; and if I find myself ignoring my advice, my edits start to get dull. Why is this? I’m not writing.

Writing something new keeps those creative juices flowing. It’s almost like creativity is a muscle. If you exercise and train it a lot, it will get stronger. But as soon as you neglect it, take it out of training, it will start to regress. The cure for that is to make sure you have a project you can work on while you are editing.

If you’re a novelist, then have another novel that you are working on. Before you sit down with your red pen, take 20, 30 min or so and just type away. You will find that not only will you have another novel done pretty quickly, but you will also be all warmed up for your edits! It’s a win win.

So, I need to make sure I keep heeding my own advice, and hopefully it will work for you as well.

Tell me, what experiences do you have with writing while you are mired in stacks of edits? Does it seem to help you?

I'm Putting my Foot Down

I’ve been very busy lately polishing my current WIP novel, Bleed Well. I think I’m on about the 7th revision right now, and I’ve come to the realization that I will never ever be completely happy with it. I think that I need to put my foot down and say I’m done.

As writers, we have to know that we will never be perfect, and chasing perfection will just take you further and further away from your audience. To grow and become better, we don’t need to constantly go back and forth as to whether or not to keep that adverb or that line of dialogue. We need to get it to a point where we can live with it, and then let it sink or swim on its own merits.

A short story I recently read, “In the Reign of Harad IV” by Steven Millhauser in the April 10, 2006 issue of the New Yorker. It’s about an artist that strives for perfection, and while eventually he reaches a point where he is satisfied with himself, he has lost his audience, respect, and any type of productive career. Basically chasing perfection is a fool’s errand.

So in that spirit I encourage all of you to put down that red pen and evaluate your work, not on if it’s perfect, but on if you think you have reached a level of professionalism that would leave you satisfied.

Yes, I’m still around

I must apologize for the lack of posts lately. My wife just had a change in her employment situation, and that means we have the same work schedule. This has resulted in much needed time with my wife, but has meant I either had to put off blogging, reading, or writing until I could find a routine that allowed for all three. I choose to put blogging on hold.

But before I get back into my series of game theory for writers posts, I want to give a quick update again on where I am with my current WIP, Bleed Well.

I have officially put down the red pen as I have made all the major changes on my rough draft that I wanted to. Now I just have to transport those revisions to the computer. But that itself is essentially another revision, so I’m getting this novel pretty tuned up. In those revisions, I am about 60% done, and hope to have that set of revisions done by September 15th.

Once that is done I will be re-reading the whole work for continuity, send it off to the betas, and work on the query/synopsis.

I also have another WIP that I am in the draft stage with. It has not gotten the attention it craves as of late, but I’m about 25,000 words in and I really like what I have so far.

Hopefully I will find a way to finish my second post on game theory for writers by the end of this week. Until then may the words flow out of your head and onto the paper.

First update on my novel/chopping names

Right now I have two novels that I am writing. The first one, titled Bleed Well, is in the re-write/revise phase right now. The other one is in the draft stage and it is as of yet untitled. The new draft does not get a lot of attention as I find I’m really liking the revision process.

But anyways, Bleed Well has taught me a lot about revision; and the main thing I want to discuss with this post again deals with characters: specifically merging minor characters together.

Now I don’t know how many of you have read War and Peace, but for those of you who have (and even those who’ve just heard some horror stories) you know what I’m talking about when I say that too many characters can bog down a story to a crawl.

God bless you Leo Tolstoy, but in War and Peace you introduce SEVEN characters on the first page! This kind of character machine-gunning riddles the reader full of holes; and instead of flying through your book because it’s so beautifully written, they limp through, thinking of nothing but the difficulty of trying to figure out who is who; which characters matter; and why does it seem like this character has three names. Now Tolstoy could get away with this in the age that he wrote in, but not today.

So what do you do if you find yourself faced with your own War and Peace? Well if you’re written the next War and Pace by all means get it published! But for those of you who just have a novel with a cast of characters the size of the New York phone book, my answer would be to merge some of your minor characters together and eliminate many more.

What do I mean by this?

Each character has a specific purpose for being in the book. One character might be there for comedy relief, another to save the princess, and yet another to solve the riddle. Why not merge some of these responsibilities? Make the character that saves the princess funny. He can journey to the castle where she’s being kept, trying to solve the riddle. Then when he reaches her tells a funny joke and tells her of the riddle. Then have the princess solve the riddle. You’ve just taken four characters and condensed them into two.

I know I know that’s a pretty basic example, but look at your work carefully and scrutinize each character. Pretend you’re holding a delete key up to their head demanding that you tell them why they deserve to live; make them justify their existence. You’d be surprised just how many characters you can eliminate without losing anything.

Now an example pulled straight from my work would be this: I have a main character named Fredrick, who talks with his mother, gets some ‘motherly’ advice and moves on. Then another character, Susan, gives Fredrick some grief then dies. Does that already seem like too many characters? Yea I thought so too.

So here’s what I did. I did away with the main character’s mother. (Yes, you can do that. Nepotism is bad in both life and novels.) I then made Susan Fredrick’s aunt, who raised him after his mother died. So she’s kinda like a disliked but loved step-mother. Well Fredrick gets his ‘motherly’ advice from his aunt, who also gives Fredrick some grief. Susan dies and we move on with the story. (The mother did not do much of anything later on so she was just written out).

Another thing that I think every writer should be on the lookout for are naming insignificant characters. I won’t go into too much detail here, but no reader wants to read or cares about the six men sitting at the poker table in the back of the room. If they don’t directly contribute significant action to the story DON’T NAME THEM! But that does not mean name everybody who does something to affect the plot.

Even if one of those men at the poker table needs to break a beer bottle over your character’s head to move the plot forward, then are forgotten, just describe them as, “The man with the brown shirt who was playing poker in the back.” Yes it’s more words than just saying “Dave who was playing poker in the back.” but the word ‘Dave’ slows the reader down more than “The man with the brown shirt.” because the reader now has to create room in their mind for Dave, thinking they are an important character.

Now I don’t recommend that you keep referring to him as that in his scene. You can shorten it down to “the man” or something like that, but resist the temptation to name him. Yes it’s likely one of his buddies would say “Hey Dave, whatcha doin?” BUT DON’T DO IT HERE. Named characters need to be involved deeply in the story. They need to be 3D. Do you have time to develop Dave? Do you really have enough spare words to make him really come to life? I didn’t think so.

So as I’ve learned, by chopping down insignificant named characters and merging other characters together; you can really tighten up your writing and make your writing seem smoother and effortless.

As a side note, a blog that I read, Anne Mini’s Author! Author!, did a three part episode on names recently. I guess great minds think alike as I’ve had this in draft for the last couple days. But I just wanted to mention this so nobody thinks I’m stealing info (although I did read the articles and was probably influenced by them a little in my revisions.)