"When you sell a man a book you don't sell him just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue--you sell him a whole new life." Christopher Morley, Parnassus on Wheels, ch. 4.
@ChayleeMccleese Dialogue, as others have suggested, is a good way to handle it. A knowledge imbalance from character to character means one has to supply missing information. You can also add emotional details to the exchange, such as impatience, evasion, a patronizing tone, astonishment, etc.
Short stories enable a writer to see and shape the entire narrative arc at once. Short stories are economical. They showcase an author's narrative skill and ability to suggest characters with fewer details, much like a pencil sketch rather than a huge, high-resolution oil-painting.
Stuck? Start with a short story.
"So many people start out trying to write a novel, and they're overwhelmed. They're like, 'I've written 20 pages. I have no idea what to do now.' And I always tell them, write a five page short story."
"Don't worry about trying to write a 400 page novel with 80 chapters. Would you go in and do an 800 pound squat on your first day in the gym?"
"With a short story, pretty much anybody can see to the end of five pages."
"It's much harder to see to the end of 12 feet in the water (a novel). You can't see the bottom. You're terrified."
-David Baldacci
One of the most important (and overlooked) scenes in the Odyssey is the encounter with the Lotus-eaters.
After nine days at sea, Odysseus and his men finally reach dry land. They go ashore to collect water, and Odysseus sends three men to go explore.
When his men don't return, Odysseus begins to worry.
The men had met some of the islanders (the Lotus-eaters), "who did them no hurt, but gave them to eat of the lotus, which was so delicious that those who ate of it left off caring about home, and did not even want to go back".
Odysseus ends up having to drag his men back to the ships and quickly sail away.
One must understand the symbolic power of the lotus. Its danger is not in any physical threat. The lotus is so deadly because it overloads you with pleasure, taking away all sense of urgency.
In this state of pleasure and relaxation, you forget your mission and your purpose. The men who ate the lotus flowers completely forgot about everything of value in their lives: their homes, their families, etc.
It's easy to think the monsters and beasts are the most terrifying threats you face. But because they're so obviously dangerous and remind you that death is a real possibility, they alert you to the value of life, and remind you of why you're fighting. But the real danger is a life so comfortable that you forget what you were trying to do in the first place.
Statistically speaking, it's unlikely you'll ever go to war or die of famine. But it is certainly possible that an addiction to your phone will derail you from your mission. Abundance of food and entertainment is far more likely to destroy you than most physical threats.
Yes, you will encounter plenty of Sirens and Cyclopes in life. But the real threat, which you must fend off every single day, is that of the lotus flower: a delicious indulgence that brings you immediate satisfaction, and makes you forget what you were fighting for.
“How do successful authors handle the transition from self-publishing to having a publisher, and vice-versa?”
Jerry Maguire's mantra is the best answer: Follow the Money.
When you've tried all the publishers and got no encouragement, then decide whether to self-publish. If you do, remember that if you don't work hard promoting your book, NOTHING WILL HAPPEN. Your book just sits there online. I know whereof I speak. One of my best novels has sat there, unpromoted and therefore unnoticed, for years, under a pseudonym. And no, I will never promote it. It's too off-brand.
So let's say your self-published book has a following and is making money, and a publisher notices it and either wants to publish that book, or wants you to write them another. But the advance is low. That means they aren't going to promote it beyond slapping a cover on it and putting it in their catalog … way down the list. They insist that you remove your book from online sales. Or they ask for revisions that you don't believe in. Your answer is, “No thanks. I like the book as it is, and I’m already making more money than you’re offering.”
Then they come back with a respectable advance offer, and agree to print it in the form you require. Now, with that advance, they'll probably promote it. Toss a coin.
Or a different publisher comes to you, apologizes for having passed on it when you offered it before. “The editor who rejected your book doesn't work here anymore. Now that you've proven how wrong we were, we'd like to bring out a new edition of the novel, set up some bookstore and convention signings, and pay an advance of $45,000.” That's more than you've earned from the book so far.
Follow the money. Publishers show their sincerity and commitment with money.
It's like deciding when to quit your day job. When you are losing money every hour you work at your job instead of writing, and your proven royalties are enough to cover your expenses for six months if you don't buy stupid stuff, why are you still going to work? If they beg you to keep working half-time for more money, why not? As long as you don't hate the job, why not have a steady income stream AND the royalties?
Having once proven yourself online with one self-published book, you can always go back if a publisher disappoints you. But remember how hard you had to work at self-promotion. Do you really want to do all that again?
@drianpace@pensandpoison It's been happening for decades. Post-modern lit-analysis classes are the easiest to get an A in. All you have to do is learn the lingo, and apply it to whatever you're analyzing. No actual proof required for the argument, just proof of ideological solidarity.
@Tyler_A_Harper There are fortunate exceptions. Professor Michael Drout's book, "How to Learn How to Think" is an excellent defense of the humanities, and a great alternative to the prog-left, post-modern paradigm that has taken over the humanities (especially English departments).
Being early and being wrong look the same. It's amazing how fiction writers are decades ahead of their time, and can portray a world that ends up becoming actualized.
"The best books grow with you because the maturity in the book is always there, but it's not in you yet."
"But as you grow, all of a sudden, more of the story comes out to you and says, 'I've been here all along. Now you're ready to receive me.'"
"I wanna make other people feel like I'm feeling right now after I've just finished that novel.
It's the greatest feeling in the world."
-David Baldacci
@monsterhunter45 Thank you for reminding everyone that a lot of us indy publishers are putting out unique, quality work that you just cannot find in the tradpub world.
@monsterhunter45 Thank you for reminding everyone that a lot of us indy publishers are putting out unique, quality work that you just cannot find in the tradpub world.
One of the simplest ways to corrupt a person is to subvert his perception of beauty.
C.S. Lewis demonstrates this in That Hideous Strength, the final book of his Space Trilogy. Protagonist Mark Studdock is subjected to "training" by the sinister institute "N.I.C.E." to remove his emotional responses and his ability to recognize right from wrong.
Mark is made to get used to a windowless room filled with nonsensical architecture and ugly art designed to disorient him. It is lit strangely and has unsettling proportions: too tall and narrow, a subtly wonky arched door, and dots on the ceiling positioned with such irregularity that it would be impossible to count them.
On the walls are grotesque and creepy pictures, but just verging on normal. There is a hyper-real portrait of a young woman, but her mouth is filled with hair. One is a giant mantis playing a fiddle while being eaten by another mantis. Some are distortions of Bible scenes, like a painting of the Last Supper with hundreds of beetles under the table.
This is Mark's first step toward "objectivity": "the process whereby all specifically human reactions were killed in a man so that he might become fit for the fastidious society of the Macrobes."
Later, Mark is forced to do simple, deliberately pointless or mildly offensive acts repeatedly. The kinds of things most people would find stupid or rude. For Mark, they are meant to gradually erode his sense of anything being important.
Our ability to recognize good from bad, virtue from vice, or beautiful from ugly is precisely what makes us human — our ability to make value judgments.
When we spend too much time surrounded by ugliness, it has a dulling effect on this especially human part of us. Even worse is when we are forced to call these ugly things beautiful, or bad things good. If we are not careful, it will ruin our ability to properly recognize anything of value in our lives.
Interestingly, Mark is ultimately won over against N.I.C.E. when he refuses to trample on a crucifix — not because he is a Christian (he isn't yet), but because it is inherently ugly and evil nonetheless.
When someone intentionally creates ugly art, Lewis calls on us to call it out as such. The beauty we include in our lives is not neutral, nor is it trivial.