The first round of results is in, and the editors at Mills & Boon have whittled the 824(!) entries in their New Voices competition for unpublished writers down to 10 finalists. Even though they didn't pick my entry (I know, go figure), I'm pleased to see that the writing is, for the most part, pretty good.
Sure, a few of the finalists would never have made my short list. But that's understandable. No two people will agree with every choice. In fact, the post announcing the finalists gives the impression that even the editors had some throw-downs over what to choose (here's hoping at least one of them is sporting some bruises earned in support of "Deadline," entered under my pen name, McKenna Darby).
What I find truly exciting, though, is one of the entries that did make the list. It's well-written, poignant, and completely different from your run-of-the-mill category romance. It is set somewhere in what I guess to be the Middle East, and it focuses on a married couple struggling to save their relationship. He's the country's leader, she's the wife trying to reconcile herself to the demands of his job and the conventions of his culture. Each is desperately in love with the other, but through miscommunication, competing priorities, and their failure to conceive a child they're each terrified the relationship is crumbling and that it's their fault. Acknowledging that is the one admission neither dares to make.
I don't know how long the author can sustain the tension of the first chapter, but I'm rooting big time for these two characters and for their creator, Kara Jacobe. I hope she wins the whole thing. Why? Because she took a chance. She didn't write to a formula. She dared to tell a touching story, not about a couple falling in love but about one that is already married. And she did it well enough to make it through the first and toughest test against a collection of stories that I have mostly seen before. In a world of too many cookie-cutter Regency romances, that strikes me as cause for celebration.
In the next round, readers who vote have some influence on the outcome; not much, but some. If Chapter 2 proves to be as compelling as Chapter 1, I'll be throwing my support behind "The Royal Marriage Rescue." Not because it's perfect, but because it surprised and touched me. And that's an accomplishment I definitely want to encourage more editors and agents to support.
Having difficulty posting comments? Just choose the Name/URL option, enter your name (first name is sufficient), hit "continue" and then hit "post comment" and your comment will appear. Or make posting even easier by joining the blog as a follower (in the column to the right of this post). I'm glad you're here. Please stand up and be counted!
Monday, September 27, 2010
Monday, September 06, 2010
seven stages of editing grief
I learned a lot about how I process feedback on my manuscripts from a post on Penny Lockwood Ehrenkranz's blog about editor and writer Karen McGrath's Seven Stages of Editing Grief. The stages, for anyone else who might benefit, are:
1. Denial: This feedback is stupid and useless.
2. Pain and Guilt: How could I have made such a mess of this?
3. Anger: Who does this editor/crit partner think she is?
4. Depression: Why did I ever think I could write?
5. Acquiescence: Maybe I should at least give these comments a serious look.
6. Reconstruction: If I do this and this and that, maybe I can make this work.
7. Hope: This is better than before. Maybe I can even take it a little bit beyond what she suggested.
I lost an insightful critique partner in part because I didn't let myself work through this process before responding to her comments. Now that I know this is my arc, I should do better at recognizing Stage 1 so I can bite my tongue until I get to at least Stage 5. (On the flip side, I now have a critique partner who gives tough feedback so pleasantly she avoids launching me into the grieving process altogether. She's a revelation and an inspiration, and I'm working hard to emulate her tone in the feedback I give to others.)
So, now that we understand editing grief, does anyone who's reading this have a stage or two to suggest for separating the editing advice you *should* listen to from that which is best ignored? How do *you* know when to invest the time to evolve from denial to acceptance, and when to just slough it off as bad advice?
(To read Penny's original post, which includes more information on Karen, visit: http://pennylockwoodehrenkranz.blogspot.com/ )
Having difficulty posting comments? Just choose the Name/URL option, enter your name (first name is sufficient), hit "continue" and then hit "post comment" and your comment will appear. Or make posting even easier by joining the blog as a follower (in the column to the right of this post). I'm glad you're here. Please stand up and be counted!
1. Denial: This feedback is stupid and useless.
2. Pain and Guilt: How could I have made such a mess of this?
3. Anger: Who does this editor/crit partner think she is?
4. Depression: Why did I ever think I could write?
5. Acquiescence: Maybe I should at least give these comments a serious look.
6. Reconstruction: If I do this and this and that, maybe I can make this work.
7. Hope: This is better than before. Maybe I can even take it a little bit beyond what she suggested.
I lost an insightful critique partner in part because I didn't let myself work through this process before responding to her comments. Now that I know this is my arc, I should do better at recognizing Stage 1 so I can bite my tongue until I get to at least Stage 5. (On the flip side, I now have a critique partner who gives tough feedback so pleasantly she avoids launching me into the grieving process altogether. She's a revelation and an inspiration, and I'm working hard to emulate her tone in the feedback I give to others.)
So, now that we understand editing grief, does anyone who's reading this have a stage or two to suggest for separating the editing advice you *should* listen to from that which is best ignored? How do *you* know when to invest the time to evolve from denial to acceptance, and when to just slough it off as bad advice?
(To read Penny's original post, which includes more information on Karen, visit: http://pennylockwoodehrenkranz.blogspot.com/ )
Having difficulty posting comments? Just choose the Name/URL option, enter your name (first name is sufficient), hit "continue" and then hit "post comment" and your comment will appear. Or make posting even easier by joining the blog as a follower (in the column to the right of this post). I'm glad you're here. Please stand up and be counted!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)