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Articles about craft.

REVISING AND POLISHING YOUR NOVEL

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Congratulations! You’ve finally finished the first draft of your novel! Give yourself a huge pat on the back and go out and celebrate! Then put it away for at least two weeks while you concentrate on other things, before going back and starting on revisions.

—Yes, revisions — starting with big-picture issues, like plot, characters, point of view and pacing. It’s highly unlikely that your first draft is ready for proofreading, or even line editing yet — save that for the last step of the revision process, after any large issues are detected and dealt with. If you’re unable to hire a freelance developmental editor and/or a copy editor, this is where your critique group (online or in-person) or acquaintances who read a lot of fiction come in.
Based on my own experience and advice from writing gurus, I’ve compiled a recommended approach to the revision process:
1.    After you’ve finished your first draft, put your story away and concentrate on other things for a few weeks or even a month. Let the story percolate in your subconscious for a while.
2.    Meanwhile send/give the manuscript to “beta readers” — savvy people who read a lot of fiction, in your genre. For suggestions and a list of possible questions, see my blog post, "Questions for Your Beta Readers" on Crime Fiction Collective (and here). Get at least two volunteer readers, but no more than five, as too many contradictory opinions could get overwhelming. Stress to your reades that at this point you’re looking for big issues only — parts where they felt excited, curious, delighted, scared, worried, confused, bored, etc. 
3.    After your break of a few weeks or so, collect the reactions of your volunteer readers or critique group. Go through them and note any that you really like; perhaps ask for clarification of suggestions, or more details.
4.    Change the font of your manuscript to one you really like and print it up to read, rather than on the screen. (A different medium to help you look at it with fresh eyes. Or you can save this step until you’ve incorporated some changes.)
5.    Reread your manuscript from start to finish, making separate notes only on big-picture changes you’d like to make, such as plot, characterization, point of view, pacing, etc. Cross out, delete or condense any boring scenes. Don’t get bogged down on wording or punctuation, etc. at this point.
6.    Update your story outline and “to-do list” or plan of action to take into account advice from your beta readers, and/or critique group, as well as your own new ideas.
7.    Save a new version of your manuscript under the current date and go through the whole thing, revising on-screen for big-picture changes only. Is your opening compelling enough? (See my blog posts on your first pages: “Act First, Explain Later” and “Those Crucial First Five Pages.” Do all of the major plot points make sense? Do you see any inconsistencies in timing, setting, character or plot? Does the story drag in places? Is there enough conflict and tension? Suspense? (See “Writing a Killer Thriller,” Parts I, II and III, on Crime Fiction Collective BlogSpot.) Are your characters complex enough? Is your protagonist likeable? (“Creating Compelling Characters”) Do you have too many characters? Is your point of view all over the place? Anchor it in one of the main characters most of the time. (“Deep Point of View”  on Blood-Red Pencil.) Maybe rewrite a scene from the viewpoint of a different key character? Rearrange some chapters or scenes? Or change the chapter breaks to earlier or later?
 
8.    Now would be a good time to send your revised story to a freelance editor or to a few more volunteer readers — ones who haven’t read an earlier version.
9.    Incorporate any new suggestions you like, and resave each new version as you go along, using the current date in the file name.
10.Go back to the beginning and start editing for voice, style, and flow. Slash excess wording and repetitions, or overexplaining. Streamline your sentences. Take out whole sentences and paragraphs — even scenes or chapters — if they don’t add anything new or drive the story forward. Take out unneeded adverbs and adjectives, eliminate clichés, and pump up your verbs to bring the action to life. See my blog post on fixing common style gaffes, “Style Blunders in Fiction” at The Thrill Begins BlogSpot.
11.Read just the dialogue out loud, maybe role-playing with a buddy or two. Do the conversations sound natural? Or stilted or even boring in parts. Amp up the tension and cut down on those empty phrases, overly wordy monologues, complete sentences, too-perfect grammar, etc. See my blog post called “Writing Effective Dialogue.”
12.Go through and do a basic line edit for grammar, spelling, and punctuation — or better yet, hire a freelance fiction editor to do it.
13. Change the font to one you like, and print up the manuscript, double-spaced. Sit down with it and read it through out loud, crossing out excess words and sentences, and noting changes and suggestions between the lines, in the margins, or on the back.
14. Open up the screen version and type these new changes into your document; resave with today’s date.
15.Go over the whole thing again, on screen or on paper, looking for any new issues that crop up. Changes very often create new errors, so watch for those.
16.Repeat above steps as needed, until your manuscript is compelling and polished, before sending it off to a literary agent or acquiring editor, or self-publishing. This whole revision process could easily take several months. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by publishing it or sending it off too soon.
17.Better yet, at some point along this process, send it to a reputable freelance fiction editor so you can get a professional, unbiased look at it, from someone familiar with both the genre and industry standards.
18.Finally, if you’re seeking an agent, take as much care with that all-important query letter. See my blog post, “Don’t Shoot Yourself in the Foot” on Blood-Red Pencil BlogSpot.
Copyright © Jodie Renner, www.JodieRennerEditing.com, Sept. 23, 2011

How To Write a Book Foreword: Step by Step

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The Foreword is an Important Selling Tool
The foreword of a book can, and should be, a very important selling tool for the book. If it is written properly, and by the appropriate person for the job, you and the book’s author will gain a lot of credibility in the reader’s eyes. I have assembled some information about the foreword that will give you a basic idea about what should typically be included. It is important to remember that the author of the book usually should not write the foreword. Instead, the author of the book can use the preface as well as the introduction to say what needs to be said about the book.

The Foreword Establishes Credibility
Forewords introduce the reader to the author, as well as the book itself, and attempt to establish credibility for both. A foreword does not generally provide the reader any extra specific information about the book’s subject but instead serves as a reminder of why the reader should read the book. Writing a foreword can be a lot of work, but it can prove beneficial for the author of the foreword as well as the author of the book. With the foreword, you are trying to make an emotional connection with the reader. You want the reader to like you and your story. This will help get the reader to believe and trust what you have to say about the book’s author and the book itself.

The Typical Foreword is Short and to the Point
Typically a foreword is one to two pages in length – 750 to 1,500 words. As the author of the foreword, you can go longer if you have an interesting story to tell about the book’s author or about the book itself. There should be four sections of a foreword: the introduction; the middle, or main body; the conclusion; and then the name of the foreword’s author.

1. Foreword Introduction: Introduce yourself and your connection to the book’s author
The first section should introduce yourself in a few short sentences and then describe the connection you have with the author and the book. If you don’t know the author personally, explain how important the message of the book is for the reader. This provides credibility to the author of the book. Making a foreword personal also lets the reader make an emotional connection. Remind readers who you are. Tell them what you are famous for. Tell them why you are the right person to be writing the foreword for this book.

2. Foreword Middle: Discuss the book and why this author is the best one to write this book
The middle section should explain the contents and benefits of the book to the reader. The reader should know why the book is relevant to him.  Therefore, you should give the reader an intriguing reason why this particular book is unique or important. Connect the book to experiences that a reader might face in everyday life. Mention the good points about the book and what the readers will get out of reading it. Be sure to give a very brief synopsis of the book. Try to use short anecdotes about the book and the author. This could be anything from a chance meeting with the author to a realization that the book was able to help you solve a problem. Try to include a real-world example that illustrates the theme of the book. This is a way to show the reader that the author of the book is credible on the subject matter.

3. Foreword Conclusion: Remind readers why you are writing the foreword and why it matters
In the conclusion, remind the readers why you are writing the foreword, and why it matters. This is important for both the author’s career as well as your own career. For the author, it will boost the credibility of the book and help sell more copies. For you, it will remind the public of your career and improve your credibility for your next book or article. This will keep readers motivated to continue on to the book because you, the expert, is telling them that the book is a worth reading. Bring the foreword full circle. If at all possible, you should reference something from your first paragraph in your final paragraph. This will add cohesiveness to your foreword.

4. Sign Your Name
Type your name at the bottom of the foreword. After your name, add your title. If you have several titles, add the most relevant one. You can also add the title of your most recent, or most famous, book that you have written. Then add the city where you live, and the year.

Conclusion
It is essential that you remember that the foreword of a book is a very important selling tool for the book. It must establish credibility for the author and the book.  It must be short and concise. You can help make the reader want to read the book by making an emotional connection with the reader. Talk to the reader as if you were talking to a friend. Keep it engaging and tell an interesting story.

This article was written by Joseph C. Kunz, Jr. and originally posted on KunzOnPublishing.com.

Do You Have What It Takes To Freelance?

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This post, by Nathan Meunier, originally appeared on his Freelance Writer / Game Journalist / 8-Bit Dude Shop Talk blog on 8/30/11. While the article is addressed specifically to aspiring freelance game journalists, its content really applies to any kind of aspiring freelance writer.

Few job descriptions are as awesome as: “play lots of video games, then get paid to write about them.” Game journalism is a fun and fulfilling career, but it’s far from easy. Unlike landing a staff position at a game magazine or website, being freelance means you’re completely on your own. The freedom of managing your workload and schedule the way you want to without someone breathing down your neck is exhilarating. However, being your own boss can quickly turn into a soul-sucking black hole of stress if you’re not careful. There’s a reason why so many freelance writers pack it in and return to the relative safety and comfort of a nine-to-five job.

As a freelancer, you’re essentially creating and running your own writing business. Playing games and churning out words is only a small portion of the many day-to-day tasks you have to juggle. From pitching editors and chasing late paychecks to managing your finances and tracking assignments, it falls on your shoulders alone to handle every important facet of your business. For some, that weight can be stifling. Not everyone can hack the rigors of the freelance life, but those who can stick it out through the rough patches will find it can be a rewarding and lucrative career. Are you sure you’ve got what it takes? Consider these important questions:

Do you have tight writing chops?

A solid command of the English language is an absolute must for this gig. Spelling, grammar, sentence structure, and creative flair are not things to be taken lightly. Spewing an abundance of unintelligible word vomit at an editor’s in-box is the fastest way to unemployment. While a college degree in journalism or creative writing certainly doesn’t hurt, having fancy writing credentials is far less important to editors than your ability to write well. The good news is you can always hone your chop with practice, but you still have to possess a certain level of requisite writing skill to get off the ground first.

Can you write well under pressure?

Deadlines can be a real bitch, but they’re an ever-present reality in the freelancer’s regular routine. Failing to meet them is not an option. Juggling rolling deadlines for different editors between multiple outlets can get hairy at times, and you need to be able to keep cool and do good work when it gets down to the wire. Sometimes inadvertent scheduling bottlenecks force you to bash out multiple assignments in a very short time-span. Other times editors want a particular piece done on a lightning quick turnaround. If you can’t deliver the goods by go-time, you’re pretty screwed.

Can you make the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs?

Because you totally need to be able to do that shit if you want to freelance. Ok, trick question. Moving on.

Are you willing to sell yourself and market your work?

 

Read the rest of the post on Nathan Meunier‘s Shop Talk blog.

25 Things Authors Should Know About Theme

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This post, by Chuck Wendig, originally appeared on his terribleminds site on 9/26/11.

1. Every Story Is An Argument

Every story’s trying to say something. It’s trying to beam an idea, a message, into the minds of the readers. In this way, every story is an argument. It’s the writer making a case. It’s the writer saying, “All of life is suffering.” Or, “Man will be undone by his prideful reach.” Or “Love blows.” Or, “If you dance with the Devil Wombat, you get cornholed by the Devil Wombat.” This argument is the story’s theme.

[Publetariat Editor’s Note: strong language after the jump]

 

2. The Elements Of Story Support That Argument

If the theme, then, is the writer’s thesis statement, then all elements of the story — character, plot, word choice, scene development, inclusion of the Devil Wombat — go toward proving that thesis.

3. Unearthed Or Engineered

The theme needn’t be something the writer is explicitly aware of — it may be an unconscious argument, a message that has crept into the work like a virus capable of overwriting narrative DNA, like a freaky dwarven stalker hiding in your panty drawers and getting his greasy Norseman stink all over your undergarments. A writer can engineer the theme — building it into the work. Or a writer can unearth it — discovering its tendrils after the work is written.

4. Theme: A Lens That Levels The Laser

Knowing your theme can give your story focus. If you know the theme before you write, it helps you make your argument. If you discover the theme before a rewrite, it helps you go back through and filter the story, discovering which elements speak to your argument and which elements are either vestigial (your story’s stubby, grubby tail) or which elements go against your core argument (“so far, nobody is getting cornholed by the Devil Wombat”).

5. Do I Really Need This Happy Horseshit?

Yes and no. Yes, your story needs a theme. It’s what elevates that motherfucker to something beyond forgettable entertainment. You can be assured, for instance, that 90% of movies starring Dolph Lundgren have no theme present. A story with a theme is a story with a point. No, you don’t always need to identify the theme. Sometimes a story will leap out of your head with a theme cradled to its bosom (along with the shattered pottery remains of your skull) regardless of whether or not you intended it. Of course, identifying the theme at some point in your storytelling will ensure that it exists and that your story isn’t just a hollow scarecrow bereft of his stuffing. Awww. Sad scarecrow. Crying corn syrup tears.

6. Slippery Business

I make it sound easy. Like you can just state a theme or find it tucked away in your story like a mint on a pillow. It isn’t. Theme is slippery, uncertain. It’s like a lubed-up sex gimp: every time you think you get your hands around him the greasy latex-enveloped sonofabitch is out of the cage and free from your grip and running into traffic where he’s trying desperately to unzipper his mouth and scream for help. Be advised: theme is tricky. Chameleonic. Which isn’t a word. But it should be. It jolly well fucking should be.

7. For Instance: You Can Get It Wrong

You might think going in, “What I’m trying to say with this story is that man’s inhumanity to man is what keeps civilization going.” But then you get done the story and you’re like, “Oh, shit. I wasn’t saying that at all, was I? I was saying that man’s inhumanity to cake is what keeps civilization going.” And then you’re like, “Fuck yeah, cake.” And you eat some cake.

8. Mmm, Speaking Of Cake

In cake, every piece is a microcosm of the whole. A slice contains frosting, cake, filling. Okay, that’s not entirely true — sometimes you get a piece of cake where you get something other pieces don’t get, like a fondant rose, but really, let’s be honest, fondant tastes like sugary butthole. Nasty stuff. So, let’s disregard that and go back to the original notion: all pieces of cake contain the essence of that cake. So it is with your story: all pieces of the story contain the essence of that story, and the essence of that story is the theme. The theme is cake, frosting, filling. In every slice you cut. Man, now I really want a piece of cake.

9. Grand Unification Theory

Another way to look at theme: it unifies story and bridges disparate elements. In this way theme is like The Force. Or like fiber. Or like bondage at an orgy. It ties the whole thing together. Different characters, tangled plotlines, curious notions: all of them come together with the magic motherfucking superglue of theme.

10. Put Down That Baseball Bat, Pick Up That Phial Of Poison

Theme can do a story harm. It isn’t a bludgeoning device. A story is more than just a conveyance for your message: the message is just one component of your story. Overwrought themes become belligerent within the text, like a guy yelling in your ear, smacking you between the shoulder blades with his Bible. Theme is a drop of poison: subtle, unseen, but carried in the bloodstream to the heart and brain just the same. Repeat after me, penmonkeys: Your story is not a sermon.

 

Read the rest of the post, which includes 15 more points about theme, on Chuck Wendig‘s terribleminds.

TIPS FOR WRITING DIALOGUE

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Dialogue is one of the first things agents and editors look at when they receive a manuscript for consideration. If the dialogue is wooden, stilted, and artificial, most agents will assume that the rest of the writing is amateurish, and the manuscript will be quickly rejected. Here are some concrete ways to make your dialogue more compelling and natural-sounding.

Dialogue needs tension, conflict and emotion
This one is huge. As Randy Ingermanson and Peter Economy say in Writing Fiction for Dummies, “Dialogue is war! Every dialogue should be a controlled conflict between at least two characters with opposing agendas. The main purpose of dialogue is to advance the conflict of the story.”
 
·         Leave out the “Hi, how are you?” “I’m fine, and you?” “Nice day,” stuff, and cut to the chase. Skip past introductions and all that empty blah-blah small talk.
 
·         Avoid any kind of long monologue or dialogue that just imparts information, with no tension or emotion.
 
·         Don’t use dialogue as “filler” – if it doesn’t advance the plot, heighten the conflict, or deepen the characterization, take it out.
 
·         Include lots of emotional or sexual tension and subtext in your dialogue. Silence, interrupting, or abruptly changing the subject can be effective, too.
 
Loosen up the dialogue
The most common problem with dialogue for new writers is that it often sounds too stiff and formal. Here are some easy, quick tips for loosening up the dialogue to make it sound more natural:
  • Read your dialogue out loud. Does it sound natural? Can you cut some words out, or use more common, everyday conversational words, rather than more “correct” words? In conversation, use “bought” rather than “purchased,” “use” rather than “utilize,” “but” instead of “however,” etc.
  • Use contractions. Change “I am” to “I’m”, “we will” to “we’ll”, “do not” to “don’t”, “they will” to “they’ll,” etc.
  • Break up those long, grammatically correct complete sentences. Nobody talks in complete sentences in informal conversations with friends (or enemies) and family, especially in stressful situations. Frequently, use some short sentence fragments, and one-word answers.
  • Don’t have one person go on and on about a subject. Fiction is not the place for a lecture on a topic, or somebody speaking at length about himself. It’s not natural, and your readers aren’t interested in long monologues! Have the other person interrupt to ask a question, give their opinion, seek clarification, change the subject, etc.
 
Keep it real
Avoid unnatural dialogue caused by having the characters say things they would never say, just to impart some information to the readers. An extreme example of this would be a character saying to his sister: “As you know, our parents died in a car crash five years ago.” Using dialogue this way to get some information across to the reader is artificial and a sure sign of an amateur writer. Work the information in subtly, without having one character say something that the other would obviously already know.
 
Give each character his or her own voice and style
Make sure all your characters don’t sound the same (like the author).  
First, pay attention to differences in gender, age, social status, education, geographical location, historical era, etc. Some characters, especially professionals, will use more correct English and longer sentences, while a cowboy or blue-collar worker will probably use rougher language, with a lot of one- or two-word questions or answers, sprinkled liberally with expletives.
Then, think about individual personality differences within that social group, and the situation. Is your character: Shy or outgoing? Talkative or quiet? Formal or casual? Modern or old-fashioned? Confident or nervous? Tactful or blunt? Serious or lighthearted? Relaxed or stressed? And give each character their own little quirks and slang expressions, but exercise caution when using slang or expletives. (More on that in another article.)
 
Gender differences
Bear in mind that men and women tend to express themselves differently.
In general, men are terser and more direct; they usually prefer to talk about things rather than people or feelings; and they often use brief or one-word answers.
Women, on the other hand, like to talk about people and relationships; often hint at or talk around a subject, tend to express themselves in more complete sentences; and often want to discuss their feelings.
These differences are especially important to keep in mind if you’re a female author writing dialogue for male characters, and vice-versa.
 
So to keep your dialogue natural-sounding, keep it loose and casual (unless it’s a formal situation), add lots of tension, and give each character his or her own distinctive voice and style.
 
© Jodie Renner, March 2011

12 Style Blunders in Fiction

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No, I’m not talking about the fashion police coming after you. I’m talking about those little errors and bad habits that creep into your manuscript, weaken your message, and add up to an overall feeling of amateurish writing. The good news is that, unlike the more critical creative flow of ideas for plot and characters, these little bad habits are easy to correct, resulting in a much more polished, compelling manuscript.

 

1.    Take out wishy-washy qualifiers like quite, sort of, almost, kind of, a bit, pretty, somewhat, rather, usually, basically, generally, probably, mostly, really, etc. Forget “He was quite brave,” or “She was pretty intelligent” or “It was almost scary.” These qualifiers dilute your message, reduce the impact, and make the imagery weaker. Take them out. Even very is to be avoided – it’s like you’re saying the word after it needs reinforcing. “She was beautiful” packs more punch than “She was very beautiful.”

 

2.    Show us, don’t tell us how your characters are feeling. Avoid statements like, “He found that funny,” or “The little girl felt sad.” Show these emotions by their actions, words, and body language: “Eyes downcast, shoulders slumped, head down, she refused to answer as she pushed her food around the plate.”

 

3.    Avoid colorless, overused verbs like walked, ran, went, saw, talked, ate, did, got, put, took. Get out your thesaurus (or use the MS Word one. Hint: look up the present tense: walk, run, eat, say, etc.) to find more expressive, powerful verbs instead, like crept, loped, stumbled, stomped, glimpsed, noticed, observed, witnessed, spied, grunted, whimpered, devoured, consumed, gobbled, wolfed, munched, or bolted.

 

4.    Avoid –ing verbs wherever possible. Use -ed verbs instead – they’re stronger and more immediate. “He was racing” is weaker than “He raced.” “They searched the house” is more immediate than “They were searching the house.” Rewrite -ing verbs whenever you can, and you’ll strengthen your writing and increase its power.

 

5.    Keep adverbs to a minimum. Instead of propping up a boring, anemic verb with an adverb, look for strong, descriptive, powerful verbs. Instead of “He walked slowly” go for “He plodded” or “He trudged” or “He dawdled.” Instead of “She ate hungrily” say “She devoured the bag of chips,” or “She wolfed down the pizza.” Instead of “They talked quickly,” say “They babbled.”

 

6.    Use adjectives sparingly and consciously. Instead of stringing a bunch of adjectives in front of an ordinary, overused noun, find a more precise, expressive noun to show rather than tell. Overuse of adjectives can also turn your writing into “purple prose” that is melodramatic and overly “flowery.”

 

7.    Dialogue tags – Stick with the basic he said and she said­ (or asked) wherever possible, rather than “he emphasized” or “she reiterated” or “Mark uttered,” etc. These phrases stand out, so they take the reader out of the story, whereas “said” is almost invisible. However, I like dialogue tags that describe how something is said, as in he shouted, she murmured, he grumbled, she whispered. You can often eliminate the dialogue tag altogether and just use an action beat instead: He picked up the phone. “That’s it. I’m calling the cops.”

 

8.    Describe the stimulus, then the response: When writing an action scene, make sure your sentence structure mimics the order of the actions. The reader pictures the actions in the order that she reads them, so it’s confusing to read about the reaction before finding out what caused it. So describe the action first, then the reaction:  Instead of “He yelled when the dog bit him,” write: “The dog bit him and he yelled.”

 

9.    Avoid the passive voice: For greater impact, when describing an action, start with the doer, then describe what he did, rather than the other way around. Use the more direct active voice wherever possible. Instead of “The house was taped off by the police,” write “The police taped off the house.” Also, avoid empty phrases like “There is”, “There was,” “It’s,” “It was.” Jump right in with what you’re actually talking about.

 

10. Avoid negative constructions wherever possible – they can be confusing to the reader. Instead of “I didn’t disagree with him,” say “I agreed with him.”

 

11. Avoid frequent repetition of the same word or forms of the same word. If you’ve already used a certain noun or verb in a paragraph or section, go to your thesaurus to find a different way to express that idea when you mention it again. Also, avoid repetition of the same imagery. Whether you’re describing the setting, the weather, or the hero or heroine, vary your wording.

 

12. Avoid formal sentences and pretentious language. Rather than impressing your readers, ornate, fancy words can just end up alienating them. As Jessica Page Morrell says, “if a reader is constantly consulting a dictionary when reading your prose, you’re dragging him from the story. Words in manuscripts such as capacious, accretion, plangent, occluded, viridian, arboreal, sylvan, obdurant, luculent, longueur, rubescent, and mendacious always pull me from the story. Just say no to showing off.”

 

As Morrell points out, “Simple words are close to our hearts and easily understood…. simpler words are unpretentious, yet contain power and grace….Pompous words are alienating, boring, and outdated.”

 

Copyright © Jodie Renner, July 2011

 

Resources: Thanks, But This Isn’t For Us, by Jessica Page Morrell; Manuscript Makeover, by Elizabeth Lyon; How NOT to Write a Novel, by Howard Mittelmark and Sandra Newman.

 

Crowdfunding Or Panhandling? The New Arts Funding.

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This is going to be one of those posts where I ramble on without any real direction and hope I discover a point along the way. “How is that different to any of your other posts?” you ask. Well, screw you. You’re the one reading. In truth it’s because I have a lot of thoughts on this subject, and I’m keen to discuss it, but no really firm opinion yet. And I’m not the kind of person who would usually be described as lacking in opinion. Let’s start with a description of the concept.

 

Crowdfunding is something that’s not really new, but something that’s gained massive traction in the internet age. Essentially it works like this: Someone comes up with an idea that needs funding. They ask “the people” if they would support said idea by pledging cash. If enough cash is pledged to pay for the idea, the people are charged and the idea goes ahead. If not enough moolah is pledged, no one is charged and the idea sinks like a lead turd, never to be spoken of again.

It’s not unlike general arts funding, except everyday folk are approached for the cash. And the internet makes it especially easy with sites like Kickstarter and Pozible streamlining the whole process. People pledging money tend to get something out of it too. They can chip in a small amount just for the warm feelings of contributing to something worthwhile, or they can pledge more and get something tangible if the idea goes ahead. For example, if it’s an event being crowdfunded a pledge of a certain amount could include a ticket to the event. A higher pledge might include a VIP pass. Higher still and you get a VIP pass and a t-shirt. And so on. There are all kinds of incentives. And it’s becoming de rigeur for arts funding. Which is, on the one hand, great – it helps to get arts things funded. On the other hand, it’s fucked – arts things should be government funded anyway, but the sad reality is that they’re not. And they get funded less and less all the time. But I’m going to avoid a political tirade here and just talk about the concept of crowdfunding.

My first direct experience of it was with a Kickstarter project where film-maker Christopher Salmon was asking for funds to make a short film of Neil Gaiman’s short story, The Price. For a fully-realised animated feature he needed $150,000 of funding. Neil Gaiman himself endorsed the idea (which is how I heard about it via Twitter) and the thing went viral. The funding has hit $161,774 and the short film is being made. I kicked in and my contribution will result in me receiving a DVD of the film when it’s made. The Price is one of my favourite Gaiman shorts, so I’m dead chuffed about that.

I’m now directly involved in another crowdfunded project. The Emerging Writers Festival wants to run a digital publishing event up in Brisbane and they asked me to be involved with one of the panels. I was happy to oblige, but the whole thing can only go ahead if it gets funding from the people, as the government are so tight they eat coal and shit diamonds. The project has hit its goal. Sweet – I’m going to Brisbane. Here it is.

These are examples of great ideas becoming real because the people behind the ideas asked the public if they would be interested, and the public responded by making it happen. Kinda awesome, no?

But it’s gone beyond that. I’ve noticed several “name” authors using Kickstarter or something similar to finance a new novel. They’re completely skipping the publisher and using ebook and Print On Demand technology, essentially self-publishing so they don’t need a publisher. But, and this is important, they’re recognising the need for professionals in editing, proofing, layout, cover design and so on. All of which costs money. Plus, they want to be paid for their efforts. I know! Authors expecting to be paid! Are they mad? Yes – mad as a hessian sack full of Hatters in Wonderland. But then again, we all know writers are mad. We wouldn’t be writers if we weren’t stark raving bonkers. So these authors have asked the fans to kick in if they want to see the book.

This is truly the most democratic path to publishing you can imagine, as only those people who want to read the book will contribute. Therefore, if the total requested is raised, the book will happen. (If only trad publishers had anything like that assurance when putting out a new book.)

However, and here’s the real rub, those authors need a fan base in the first place. I’m quite okay with self-publishing and indie publishing, as regular readers here well know. I’ve had a varied path to publication myself and have dabbled like a mischievous sorcerer in a variety of methods. Any path that leads where you’re going is the right path.

Yet I know that some newbies in the writing game – and other areas of the arts for that matter – see crowdfunding as a way to get a start without having to work so hard. The trouble is, someone with no real following, without any proven track record or an existing fan base, will have a hell of a job getting any cash at all through a crowdfunded project. Like those self-publishers really nailing the market, especially with ebooks, who are actually trading on their past publishing success, only established artists are likely to get any crowdfunded money. The Amanda Hockings of this world are most certainly the exceptions not the rules, as I discussed at length here. People trying to start out will still be struggling along like tiny minnows against the flooding tide of existing artists.

Of course, you’re always going to get those who buck the trends and emerge out of obscurity like a lucky butterfly made of cash, but they’re going to be very rare. I guess it’s fair in some ways – we all need to work hard to get successful. I think there’s something fundamentally damaging about success that comes too easily. Then again, I work like a son-of-a-bitch and success is a slow burn for me. So maybe I’m just bitter. But people expecting a handout without proving themselves are unlikely to get one, and that’s where this is different from panhandling. After all, it’s far easier to ignore a beggar on the internet who wants you to fund their desire to write than it is to ignore someone on the street who’s really doing it tough and simply trying to eat. The truly destitute in society need our compassion and assistance. Would-be writers crying out online, pleading with people to pay their rent and grocery bills while they try to make a go of writing, do not. They need to do something to earn our attention, then maybe we’d be more inclined to throw a few shekels their way and see if they can climb a rung or two of the ladder.

It sounds harsh and I don’t want to be accused of ignoring the struggle of emerging talent, or stepping on people trying to get a start in this game. Thor knows, I’ve struggled hard enough myself, and still do. But I’ve mentioned it before, determination and hard bloody work are as important as talent in this game. If you can wrangle a few bucks out of people without proving yourself first, more power to you. I wish anyone trying it the best of luck. But don’t get shitty when you post a Kickstarter saying you want five grand to try to finish your first novel and get pretty much sweet fuck all. We’d all have loved five grand to finish our first novels, but none of us got it and we went ahead and did the work anyway. Of course, a few people do get actual arts grants for this stuff but, like the established writers making a go of crowdfunding their next books, those arts grant recipients had some history to prove themselves worthy of receiving said grant.

So I guess my opinion really is this – I see the whole new trend in crowdfunding to be an extremely exciting thing. Let the voice of the people be heard. It’s a great way to finance things which might otherwise slip under the radar and never happen. But I don’t think it’s a way for unknown names – in any field of endeavour – to suddenly circumvent that harsh crucible of slaving away at their art like a motherfucker while also scraping a living, engaging personal relationships and generally being a human person. Which is a shame, but I guess these things aren’t easy for a reason. I compare it often to my life as a martial artist, and like I often tell my students, “Kung Fu is seriously hard work. After all, if it was easy, everyone would do it.”

I’m certainly interested in your comments on the subject, so do chime in below. (Publetariat Editor’s note: click here to leave your comment on the original article, where it appears on Alan’s site.)

And maybe I’ll see you in Brisbane!

 

This is a reprint from Alan Baxter‘s The Word.

A Theory Of The Hero: Agency, Voice, And Sincerity (part 1 of 3)

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This post, by Chris, King of Elfland’s 2nd Cousin, originally appeared on the The King of Elfland’s Second Cousin on 9/13/11.

For a while now I’ve been chewing on the concept of heroes/heroines, which at first glance looks simple. Say the word “hero” and everyone knows what we mean: we’re (stereotypically) talking about square-jawed men and kick-ass women who stab bad guys in the eyes with icicles, rescue intergalactic princesses, and Do The Right Thing. Heroes are “The Good Guys” that we root for in a story. But fiction – as life – tends to be more complex than that. For every Frodo Baggins we have an Elric of Melniboné. For every Peter Pevensie we have Steerpike. What then constitutes a hero? What makes one character or one story heroic and another not?

 

NOTE: This is the first in a three-part series of posts. This post is focused on what makes a given character heroic. On Saturday, I’ll post the next chapter, focusing on story archetypes for heroic characters, and the final post on Tuesday will focus on the difference between tragic and anti-tragic heroes.

Why do we need a Theory of the Hero?

If we want some sort of all-encompassing theory of the hero, we need to go beyond Campbell’s monomyth and Propp’s functional formalism. Regardless of how much I love both, a complete theory should be able to encompass both the classically-modeled Frodo Baggins and the monstrous Humbert Humbert.

In reading Ivan Morris’ excellent The Nobility of Failure: Tragic Heroes in the History of Japan over the weekend, something in my brain clicked. I think I might have figured out a secret ingredient that goes into the make-up of any hero, regardless of where they fall on a moral spectrum. Per Morris, heroes are defined at their core by the Japanese concept of makoto, which Morris translates as “sincerity” with connotations of self-contained philosophical sufficiency. In other words, a hero is a hero – regardless of their moral or immoral actions – if they act relative to a consistent moral code.

Hero vs Protagonist: Six of One, Half-Dozen of the Other

If you will forgive a brief moment of semantic pedantry, I think it is important to explain that I have never particularly liked the term “protagonist”. Since originating in Greek drama, I think the term has become incredibly muddled and imprecise. Etymologically, it means “chief actor” but a literal definition is too limiting to be functional. There are too many sweeping, epic novels like Hugo’s Les Miserables where identifying a particular chief actor becomes difficult (if not impossible).

Terms like protagonist and antagonist really describe the relationships between characters. The protagonist is opposed by the antagonist. This tells us nothing whatsoever about the characters in question, their value systems, moral codes, or courage. However, describing characters as either heroic or non-heroic does offer insights into their natures. Generally, for good drama in storytelling a hero needs to have an opposition: but a good hero can just as easily be opposed (antagonized) by another hero (the relationship between Hugo’s Jean Val Jean and Javert is a prime example of this type of opposition).

The Hero’s Function: Building Engagement through Agency and Voice

 

Read the rest of the post on The King of Elfland’s Second Cousin, and also see Part 2 and Part 3 in the series.

Where do stories come from?

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GPS and high-speed computers can’t pinpoint where they originate.  Radar, sonar, Ouija board and ultrasound are all useless indicators. Yet stories come from somewhere and those of us who write feel it when a story quickens.  Heart trips over itself, breath pauses, and inspiration shatters preconceptions.  A story has arrived!

Do stories bubble up out of the shared jumble of archetypes from our cave days?  Do they come from an external Muse?  Do they leak like static from parallel universes?

I don’t know. Perhaps where a story comes from matters less than the fact that it comes at all.  Under the sheer improbability that any given story exists, the question of First Cause is almost trivial.

As a reader, a tale comes to me as an already revealed whole, but that is not the case when I write.  I hear of writers who come up with outlines, who know what a story is before the story has been written. That is not how it happens for me. I do not plan the stories I write to be as they are any more than a mother ‘plans’ her children to be as they are.  Each story is an act of nature, a noumenal birth.  Unlike mothers of flesh and blood, I am less creator than conduit; what is to be written passes through me, but is in some very basic sense not of me.

When a story chooses me, it comes from multiple avenues at once.  The universe conspires to bring me into contact with the inspirations that will prepare me for the story that is traveling from those unknowable elsewheres. When the right pair of contradictory ideas come together in one lucid moment, I become an open conduit for the expression of the story.

At that instant, I can’t see the entire plot arc or even begin to understand how to fit those contradictions together into some cohesive whole. Everything becomes a possible revelation of the story’s truth. Novels, movies, snippets of overheard conversation, dreams, music, even the moon and sun themselves can be oracles. Revelation and prophecy are anything except convenient. There’s an element of the trickster to stories. They like to play but, like any wild animal, stories can be dangerous. It is not an easy path to be a writer. I am not even certain it is a choice, or at least not the writer’s choice.

Even now, a story travels.  It will come unto us like religion, like grace, like the purest dharma.  It chooses us, and we are humbled.

 

This is a reprint from Aniko Carmean‘s blog.

Yet Another Reason To Die As An Indie Author

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This post, by Passive Guy, originally appeared on his The Passive Voice blog.

Another good comment to the What Happens When an Author Dies post, this one from author Christopher John Chater:

My grandmother died in 2004 and had 22 published romance novels. We are now in the process of getting back her rights from Richard Curtis so the family trust can publish the work as ebooks and POD.

The contract for ereads ran out after seven years, but guess what, I asked for copies of the contracts and, now more than a month later, have yet to find them in my mail box. My aunt had an old copy of a contract and now the heirs are going to write a letter to ereads asking for the rights back.

An author has more clout with his/her agent or publisher than any of the author’s heirs who are not terrifying attorneys. Even a downtrodden and mistreated author has ways of pitching a fit that will gain some notice.

One of the many strange aspects of the publishing world is that, almost uniquely among reputable 21st century business enterprises, publishers and agents feel no need to respond to emails, calls and/or letters. Think about it. If you send an email to a large pharmaceutical company asking for product information, you’ll receive some sort of response. Ditto for Ford Motor Company, Costco and the National Guard.

Other than publishers and agents, who doesn’t promptly respond to reasonable communications these days? Al Qaeda and Mexican drug cartels come to mind.

But PG digresses.

One of the lessons we learn from Christopher’s comment is to make certain you retain copies of publishing and agency contracts old and new. Ditto for every royalty statement you receive. Remember, you’re dealing with copyrights to your books that last for 70 years after you die. These days (shamefully) publishing/agency contracts also tend to last that long.


Read the rest of the post on The Passive Voice.

How To Write Fight Scenes With Alan Baxter

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In today’s interview I get very enthusiastic about writing fight scenes with the brilliant Alan Baxter who combines his martial arts life with writing.

Alan Baxter is the author of Realmshift and Magesign, speculative fiction novels published by Gryphonwood Press as well as a podcaster with Thrillercast, on writing and reading thriller novels. Alan is also a martial arts instructor with 25 years experience and has published “Write the Fight Right” in order to help authors write more effective fight scenes.  **warning – there are a few mild swear-words in the interview**Video interview is below the text.

  

Podcast: Download (Duration: 43:12 — 25.7MB)

 

If you want to improve your own fight scene writing, you can join our Fight Scene MasterClass – click here to register your interest.

In this interview, you will learn:

  • Constant improvement in both martial arts and writing. You never finish becoming a better writer or better at martial arts. There is discipline in both. Alan has always done both and the book has sprung from a workshop he does for writers which combines both of his loves.
  • I went to a Krav Maga class last weekend and got my ass kicked and we talk about this and how I was completely out of my comfort zone. There was a lot of adrenalin and I’m covered in bruises but it was good experience.
  • What is it like when a non-fighter is in a fight? What does it feel like when you don’t have the experience of fighting? From a character’s perspective, you need to understand responses. There is  the classic fight, flight or freeze. If you have no experience and are not aggressive, you will react differently. It is also surprising how people react when threatened. From a writer’s point of view, take the character’s personality and how they would react in other situations e.g. being upset, angry – would they just run away? The situation also makes a difference e.g. defense of a child vs. self-defense.
  • What does a professional see and feel? It’s important to relax which is very difficult when under stress. The more relaxed you are, the more control you have over yourself. Constant training for peripheral vision is important. It happens in normal life but when threatened, there is tunnel vision and you lose peripheral vision. A good fighter will see a punch or a kick coming which comes from practice of watching how the body moves. You can see from other signals how they will move. This will give more time in the fight which untrained people don’t have.
  • The attraction of violence for writers and ‘normal’ people. It is partly escapism as most people haven’t had a fight. Fighting is awful and the first defense is run away. When you are writing action, it is good fun and adrenalin on a fun level whereas if we were actually in that situation it would be awful. It’s also the natural extension of conflict in stories. You don’t need to write what you know. You can write what you find out about. Research is one of the most fun things about writing, especially in thrillers as you can go rent a fast car, or go shooting (and it could be tax deductible!)
  • Movie fight scenes vs writing a proper fight scene. The movies are a visual genre and the fight scenes are awful. They are choreographed for 2 dimensions and so are a turn-based arrangement. People never take turns in fights. People regularly punch each other at the same time. It is chaos, not choreographed. In writing, we don’t have a 2D environment. We can be in the heads of the people, we can explore sounds and smells as well as visceral contact. Fighting is barely controlled chaos.
  • Fight scenes should also not be blow by blow physical description, a bit like sex scenes – don’t make it too clinical. It should be fast and furious and chaotic. It’s good to have a bit of experience through classes or something. Have the writing match the pace e.g. shorter sentences, less detail. When you’re fighting, you don’t have that detail. If you saw the punch coming, you would move or block. The writing cannot be slow.
  • Is there an internal sense when writing fight scenes? There is no dialogue while fighting. It never goes like that. You don’t have time, although there may be a few sharp words but no conversation. An experienced fighter will have a bit more time for internal dialogue but all a novice will do is not think or panic thoughts. There is very little coherence.
  • Training is about knowing how it feels. Something happens, we react without thinking. By practicing, you can understand how adrenalin feels and how to react but most people don’t have this.
  • Gender differences in fight scenes. Alan’s wife is a martial arts instructor as well. In books, women are often beaten on and defended by guys but I have a female protagonist who kicks ass. Can women beat a guy? Yes and no. It depends on training but there is always an advantage in big, heavy and strong. That’s why there are weight differences in pro fights. Skill and training, speed and footwork, learning the right targets to hit – these can all balance out the difference. More vulnerable targets are smaller, harder to find but women would maybe have to hit there. Women can defeat big guys but they are at a disadvantage. Women also take longer to get used to hitting anything, even pads in class. It is more confronting for girls to be violent but once they get into it, they are usually enthusiastic! So give your female protagonist some training and they will have a better chance!
  • Creating a setting that will make a fight more interesting in your writing. Whatever environment you are in, you need to use and make it real. In a bar, you need to have lots of chairs, other people, bottles, glass – use the environment. When writing, you can set up a good place to fight that is more interesting e.g. restaurant means you can move into kitchen with knives, hot water etc vs/ a field with nothing interesting to use.
  • What is the role of bystanders in a fight? How do people react? In this day and age, the first reaction is to pull out a phone and start filming for YouTube. Then some people will have nothing to do with it, they will leave or ignore it. Or the people who will call the police or try to stop it. It depends on the person and also their experience. If you do get involved, it may be dangerous. There are gender differences in reactions as well.
  • What happens after the fight? I was shocked by how exhausted I was and bruised just from a class. How do our characters feel afterwards? (in a fist fight, not a gun or knife) Chinese saying – When two tigers fight, one limps away horribly wounded, the other is dead. If you fight, you will get hurt. You will absolutely have physical results and many movies show people carrying on fine, even after concussion. You need to have a realistic recovery period. Adrenalin also has a long lasting effect on the body. That happens with real fighting too but the adrenalin will always be there. If you even get in the one punch that finishes it, you will likely hurt your hand. Being hit in the face means you can’t chew or eat. The first time a person gets hit, it is a shocking experience and many people break down. It’s unsettling. There are always effects.
  • On writing fight scene cliches. When you write the scene, go back and check whether you have transcribed a movie fight scene and rewrite. Get more chaotic and less removed from the fight. Engage emotion. Some of the cliches are true e.g. tunnel vision – so it’s more about how you deal with them. Keep the writing fast.

You can find “Write the Fight Right” on Amazon and other online bookstores. You can find Alan and his other books and short stories at AlanBaxterOnline.com and on twitter @alanbaxter

If you want to improve your own fight scene writing, you can join our Fight Scene MasterClass – click here to register your interest.

 

This is a reprint from Joanna Penn‘s The Creative Penn.

More New Authors Turn to Self-Publishing

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This article, by Faiza Elmasry, originally appeared on Voice of America on 9/2/11.

Self-published books outnumber those released by traditional publishers

More and more authors are taking control of their future by self-publishing their work. In fact, more books are self-published than are issued by traditional publishers, according to Bowker, which compiles publishing statistics.

Self-publishing means you not only write the book but take on production and sales as well. In earlier centuries, most publications were self-published, but over time the role of author and publisher became separate.

 

However, in the last few years, given the difficulty of finding a traditional publisher, a growing number of new authors have chosen to bypass traditional publishing and do it on their own.

"Holly Heights" is Patricia Ruth’s first novel. “It’s a slice of suburban life and a story everyone can relate to,” she says.

After she finished writing and editing her novel, she was eager to see it in print. “I did try to go the traditional publishing route by sending inquiries to agents and publishers.”

It was a long, frustrating and, ultimately, unsuccessful process.

“I’m a member of a very popular club of authors that get rejected by agents and publishers," she says. "I’d get rejections from agents. It would come on a strip of paper, maybe two inches long, not even the courtesy of a full page letter. It’s outrageous the stuff you get back."

However, despite the setbacks, she was still determined to be published and a visit to a book fair inspired Ruth to do it on her own.
“I saw that there was so much going on with self-publishing and empowering authors," Ruth recalls."You know I felt it was very doable.”

The first step was to discover how to go about it. 


Read the rest of the article, which includes an embedded audio segment, on Voice of America.

Enhanced Ebook — Audio in Chapters

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This is a post from my blog, http://roofmanthespy.wordpress.com/ . The excerpt is from my ebook, ROOFMAN: A True Story of Cold War Espionage. It illustrates how audio can be integrated into actual narrative:

 

This post shows a major conflict between me and my FBI case officer, Mike Berns, in particular and, by extension, the entire Federal Bureau of Investigation. The Bureau wants a list I have in my possession, but I don’t want to give it to them. Mike uses all the power of his agency to try to "convince" — read that "intimidate" — me  turning over to the FBI a list of innocent Americans.

Chapter 11: A House of Sand and Fog

On Friday, April 4th, I attended a conference sponsored by The Library Association of the City University of New York (LACUNY). The theme of the conference was the free flow of information across national boundaries — something I had more than a passing interest in.

The conference supplied all those who attended with a list of names and affiliations of other attendees. One of the names on the list, Anatoly Sidorenko of the United Nations library, drew my special attention.

On Monday, April 14th, I called Mike Berns, my FBI case officer, and told him about the LACUNY conference. He asked me to send him a copy that list. Ego spoke for me: "Sure."

Two days later, I smartened up when Conscience reminded me: "You’ll be turning over a list of innocents to the American intelligence community. That’s not how it works in this country, asshole!"

Go to the following website and click on “11-3” to listen to the phone conversation associated with this post:
http://roofmanpansini.com/

Please remember this content is © 2011

 

What’s the Difference Between an IP Lawyer and a Contracts Lawyer? Why Does an Author Care?

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This post, by Passive Guy, originally appeared on his The Passive Voice on 8/23/11.

Passive Guy thanks all who wished him well in his new endeavor both in comments and in emails. This encouragement is very much appreciated.

One emailer requested that PG describe the difference between an IP Lawyer and a Contracts Lawyer. PG has described himself as an attorney who works with contracts or a contract counsel.

IP is short for Intellectual Property. In the United States, there are four broad classes of intellectual property:

  1. Patents
  2. Trademarks
  3. Trade Secrets
  4. Copyrights

Patents involve the majority of IP lawyers. A patent attorney is not only licensed by his/her state bar, but is also licensed to practice before the United States Patent & Trademark Office (USPTO).

With a few exceptions, only attorneys who have an undergraduate degree in a scientific or technology discipline – engineering, chemistry, pharmacology, physics, etc., etc. – are permitted to become patent attorneys. In addition to having the requisite educational background, a patent attorney must also take and pass a separate patent bar exam.

Being licensed to practice before the USPTO allows an attorney to file and prosecute patent applications for inventors. An attorney without this qualification may not represent an inventor in USPTO proceedings.

Patent litigation is another story. No special patent bar admission is required to litigate the validity of patents in federal court. Some patent litigation attorneys are patent lawyers and others are not. The expertise necessary to prosecute a patent application is much different than the expertise necessary to try a case before a jury.

The owner of a patent has the right to prevent others from making, selling, etc., anything that is described in the claims of the patent.

The reason patent law involves the most IP attorneys is that it’s a lucrative specialty. Recently, Google announced an agreement to acquire Motorola for $12.5 billion. It was reported that Google’s principal reason for making the purchase was to gain ownership of Motorola’s portfolio of approximately 17,500 patents.

The other three broad areas of IP law involve much smaller groups of specialized attorneys. Neither Trademark nor Copyright law require any special educational credentials or separate bar admission.

A trademark is a symbol, word, or words legally registered or established by use as representing a company or product. Trademarks are everywhere. When you see a ® or a ™ next to a company or product name, you’re looking at a trademark. When you see a ℠, you’re looking at a service mark, which is a type of trademark that applies to services, not products.

Read the rest of the post on The Passive Voice.

Why Your Blog's "About" Page Matters

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It’s amazing how often this happens: I visit an author blog and, finding something interesting, I go looking for the “About” page. And when I get there, it’s a total disappointment.

Typically there will be a couple of paragraphs of copy and a photo, but often there’s not even that. For some reason the Blogger.com platform seems particularly guilty in providing little in the way of an “About” page.

But even when authors have an about page, it falls victim to one of two problems:

  • Boring. Do you want to read about where I went to college? No, I didn’t think so, since there’s no benefit in it to you, one way or another.
  • Written like a press release. Writing about yourself in the third person can be awkward, and it’s easy to slip into “corporate-speak” when we try.

The Goal of the “About” Page

I think if you look at your analytics you’ll find that your “About” page is one of the more popular sites on your blog.

All of us want to connect to the person behind the words, that’s just a natural human desire. It pays to recognize this because it’s an important signal.

When I visit an “About” page I’m open to more engagement with the author. I’m saying with my clicks and my time that I’m interested in you. Since a lot of what we’re trying to do with our blogs is build reader engagement, you can see why your “About” page is actually a crucial and uniquely powerful asset in that effort.

Understanding this makes it more clear how to fashion your own “About” page.

Your aim is to humanize yourself, step out from behind the author’s viewpoint and engage with readers directly.

It makes no sense to waste this precious communication time with information that has no interest to anyone outside your immediate family.

“They want to see the face behind the blog. People use your About page to decide if they’ll subscribe or not. Ideally, you’ll want to let them know that you know what you’re talking about. Readers also like to be assured you’re human. Assure them.”—Martyn Chamberlin, Copyblogger

 

Statistics Tell the Story

A look at Google Analytics tells the story of why we need to pay attention to the “About” Page. On this blog, over the last 30 days there were 370 visits to my main “About” page. When I was working through a course in blogging I put a fair amount of work into getting this page to work.

I have a secondary “About” page, my “Hire Me” page that performs a similar function. It got 523 visits over the same period.

Multiplied out for the year, it looks like this:

“About Joel” page = 370 x 12 = 4,440 visits
“Hire Me” page = 523 x 12 = 6,276 visits

That’s over 10,000 people who will click over to my “About” pages in the next year. I want to use that opportunity to my advantage, and that’s something you can do, too.

Check your “About” page to see if it:

  • Communicates in a personal way to readers
  • Contains information readers of your site would fine relevant or interesting
  • Shows more sides of you than you usually show in your articles
  • Uses photographs or videos to make the information more personal
  • Links to other assets of yours or to contact information.

Some Examples

Chris Brogan has an excellent “About” page which speaks in a very personal voice but still manages to list lots of impressive achievements.

Colleen Wainwright shows another way to connect with readers while providing lots of background at the same time.

Joanna Penn does a great job of personalizing her “About” page while reinforcing the mission of her blog.

Paul Stamatiou shows how you can make an “About” page both interesting and informative.

I hope this encourages you to take a fresh look at your “About” page as another way to build reader engagement. Your readers will thank you if you do.

 

This is a reprint from Joel Friedlander‘s The Book Designer.