Mommy, Where Do Ideas Come From?

The word "idea" sounds all fresh and innocent, doesn't it? It sounds exciting, refreshing, hopeful.

In truth, ideas are dirty little buggers. Deceptive and manipulative, they worm their way into your mind like microscopic parasites, like prions determined to feed off your neural impulses. They grow like a cancer, taking over your head until you can do nothing but vomit them up in a verbal spew known as the dreaded first draft.

The phrase "original idea" is an oxymoron. No idea is original. Search hard enough, and you'll find that at some point, somewhere, someone not only already thought of it, they wrote the book.

I've been stumbling over this speedbump for the last few months. My current novel seems to be fairly "original" - as in, I haven't read the exact same premise anywhere - thank the fates. But no less than 3 times now have I come across novels or stories that seem to be based entirely on entries from my Idea Matrix (yes, it's in Excel, and yes, I'm obsessive-compulsive).

I start to read or listen to these stories, my brain in disbelief, and no little amount of chagrin as I realize I've been beaten to the punch. I realize I have this exact same idea written down, waiting for the time or energy for me to give it life. And then I realize that now that I've experienced someone else's version of that same story, I may never be able to write it. I may never be able to separate it from what I know is already out there.

Another revelation is still to come, however: I may have drummed up these ideas not from my own imagination, but from these stories themselves. Seem like a paradox? Not really. I keep a running list of books I want to read and authors I want to check out, and sometimes I don't get around to reading something for months, or even years. So it's quite possible that in January I read a book blurb and added it to my list, and then subsequently forgot about it. Then in August my subconscious throws it back to me as a fabulous idea and I write it down in a flurry of excitement...only to be crushed in November when I get around to reading the original book that inspired the idea.

What's worse is when the realization comes too late, when I've written the story, sent it out, based my hopes and dreams on it. Then I get nostalgic, and read a book I remember loving as a kid, and wham, there is my book, only better and bigger. Ouch.

Of course, the stories I write not knowing they've been written before are still unique, still original. I am a different person than the other author, with different experiences, different style. It's why a creative writing class of 20 students can write 20 different stories all based on one assigned premise. Ideas may not be original, but stories usually are.

Whew. Big relief. It takes all the pressure off having that original, wonderful, never-been-seen-before idea...and moves it all onto the story. Hmm.

Oh, well, that's a post for another day!

The Debate Rages: Form Rejection or Personal Note?

The first few rejection letters you receive as a writer are heartbreaking. You've worked and strived and sweated to create this story that shines, that is perfect in your eyes. You had every sympathetic friend and relative read it just so you could build up the courage to actually submit it somewhere. You sat in a library (yes, this was "back in the day") with a notebook and the most current Writer's Market from the reference section, choosing the best possible magazines or agents for your masterpiece.

You wait anxiously for that SASE to show up in your mailbox, the one from the editor who was so blown away by your talent and skill that she wants every word you've ever written. Not only that, she has an agent friend who happened to read your submitted story and wants to sign you right now, and thinks he can get a multimillion dollar sale for your first novel.

But what actually comes is a slow trickle of photocopied pages: "Thank you for submitting...not for us...good luck." They're pretty much all the same, right? And your wounded ego rails at them for being so impersonal, for treating you as something less than human. Not only did they say no to you, they didn't even care enough to say "no" in a different way, individualized to you.

I went through that, and I'm over it. Why? Because lately I've gotten a few of those "personal" rejections, and I've got to say, most of the time I prefer the form letter. After all, when it comes right down to it, a no is a no is a no. Do I really care that the editor didn't like my main character's name? Do I want to know that the agent felt my writing was not a style she could connect with? What the hell am I supposed to do with these little comments? They're usually not constructive, or even concrete enough for me to translate into something constructive. They're just a "no" with added doubt about my writing mixed in: a double whammy.

There is a scale of rejection, I have discovered, a range of the "no"s a writer can receive:

1. Form letters. Just a stark "no." I don't mind them, really. This is a business, we have to remember that. Do you get a personal letter from your mortgage lender when they turn you down, telling you everything they think about you and why you didn't meet their standards, and how you can do better next time? Hell, no. Agents and editors don't have time to coddle every writer they turn away. So take the no, write another story, and move on.

2. Personal letters with throwaway comments. Sometimes this agent/editor is new to the game. They haven't had to hand out a lot of rejections yet, and they still feel bad about every one. So they struggle to come up with something to cushion the blow. Sometimes though, they do like the story, but it's just not what they're looking for. They want to encourage you, but explain why the story isn't right for them.

These letters usually go badly. They don't have time to really get into the whys and wherefores. So you get a line or two about "not the right voice" or "the writing is good, but the characters don't meet our guidelines". The editor thinks they've done a great thing, letting you down gently, but in actuality you lie there in bed at night like a teenage girl in the throes of her first relationship breakup, wondering over and over "What does it all mean?"

In the end, it's just a no, same as the form letter, but with added emotional drama.

Even worse are the ones where they knew fairly quickly they didn't want to take you on, so didn't really bother to read the rest of the story. They give comments anyway, comments like "I don't really connect to a story where none of the characters have names" when everyone is named by page 2 and continue referring to one another's monikers throughout the tale. Just send a form letter, guys. Really. It's okay.

3. The "Nearly There" Personal Letter. These are the best. Ideally, for authors, agents and editors should just stop with the middle category of letter altogether. Give a form rejection, or give this "nearly there" rejection. This is the one that says "no...BUT I really like your work and hope you will keep submitting." This is the one that tells us to keep writing, to keep working, because soon it will all pay off. This one tells us the agent really struggled to turn us down, that we're on the right track.

This is the one that tells us to keep writing. If you get one of these letters, jump for joy. You can see the summit. You can take a few more puffs of oxygen and get there. Whereas the 2nd category of confusing personal rejections confuses us, makes us wonder if any of it is worthwhile, this "nearly there" letter is a beacon in the night, beckoning us forward.

I'm getting more and more of these encouraging letters. My stories are garnering acceptance, my novels are getting reads. It won't be long before I can stand at the peak and have a look around. (*crosses fingers*) I hope!

Forcing the Swing of Things

Writing is hard. We love it, we're addicted to it, can't live without it, but it's definitely a long term relationship. You have to work at it. Every darn day.

Vacations really screw the dynamic up. I went home to the States last month, and though I took my flash drive and stole my mom's laptop, all I got done was a proofread on an agent-requested manuscript. Not a word written.

I'm one of those cyclic writers; I go in fits and spurts, sometimes inspired for hours on end day after day, and sometimes it's like giving a pound of flesh to get one mediocre sentence out. I envy those writers who can sit down at 5 a.m. every day like clockwork and churn out chapter after chapter without blowing their own head off. So this past month has been a bit of a dry spell - uninspired, and somewhat discouraging.

Then bang, bang, two things happened: an agent I have a lot of respect for loved my sample chapters and requested the full. Just as I was ready to shelve this manuscript, writing it off as a pre-success novel that might never see the light of day (unless published under the dreaded "Never Before Published" tag).

Not long after, one of my short stories was accepted for publication (details to be posted).

Wham! All of a sudden the universe was giving me all these positive signs, encouragement to move forward. In a rush of excitement, I sent off another short story and set myself a new goal table for my current work in progress.

Only...it's been at least 6 weeks since I looked at this monster. I don't remember exactly where I was, what I wanted to happen with it. The characters have all fallen into a magical slumber, and I feel like an erstwhile Prince Charming, seeking a way through the brambles and dragons and demonic knights, fighting my way to their chambers high in the castle keep so I may shake them awake again.

It's like setting a dinner date with an old boyfriend. I can remember our relationship, what went wrong, what I miss, but I'm fuzzy on details like toothpaste preference and shirt size. What do each of my characters sound like? Is the main character still funny, or did I at some point decide to make her more somber and serious?

Luckily for me, I'm obsessive compulsive, and as such have pages of copious notes about everything from character quirks to minute plot points. I just have to wade through it once again, overcome my procrastinitis, and get back to business.

Right after a quick squee on Facebook, a glance at Neil Gaiman's blog, a click-through on the blogosphere...

"Never Before Published" = Never Should Have Been

I should know better than to so much as crack the spine on a book with those words inscribed on the cover.

"Never Before Published" translates to "this author is a big name, brings in lots of dough, so we'll publish anything s/he has ever written, ever, even this pile of poo smeared on the page. Stupid readers well never know the difference."

Note to publishers: yes we do know the difference!!! I just finished a torture-filled read from an author who always had my respect in the past. This author's books are usually original, entertaining, well crafted.

This one was painful. The same cliches repeated over and over. It's clearly a novice effort, with little attempt to edit before publication. The author initially made a name for herself as a romance novelist, but topped the bestseller lists by breaking free of the traditional format and formula of the romance genre.

In this book, I could see the beginnings of that transformation. The eye-rolling sex scenes are there (I'm sorry, but no 18-year-old innocent in 19th century London gives a mind-blowing BJ on her first attempt). But also there is a story that breaks free of the traditional regency romance boundary, edging into fantasy, with a nicely created world that is magical and intriguing.

The characters are stock - the dashing titled rogue with money and the spirited and passionate young maid. They start to evolve into real characters, but are held back by the constraints of being forced into the "fall in lust-marriage-insane sex-fall in love" formula that is now so old and trite in the romance genre it might as well be a paint-by-number.

I would have thought the author, as far as she's come with her writing, would have wanted a major rewrite before the book hit the shelves. Even on a micro level, the thing is messy, with meandering dialogue, senseless transitions, and some seriously fuzzy plot points.

I'm hoping it's just that she was furiously writing on something new (she's quite prolific), and simply didn't have the time or inclination to labor over something she'd finished with a long time ago. "Sure, publish it and send me the paycheck!" I hope that's what she was thinking. I hope she didn't read the thing and it made perfect sense to her and looked like a good piece of writing. Oi.

I see it a lot, though, pick up paperbacks by big name authors only to have the story be amateurish and ham-handed. I wonder, if I ever get to be one of those big-shots, if I will succumb to the same temptations of publishing my early drivel just for the added royalties.

Which, dear god, brings the thought: my early drivel is what I'm shopping around now. Ouch.

Well, let's just hope that someday I have the opportunity to decide whether or not to publish it under the "Never Before Published" tag. Until then, as a consumer with many books to read and not enough years in life to read all of them, I will stay far far away from these monstrosities in the future.