Un-Con Redux: Operation Phoenix
By Donald Maass | December 4, 2019 |
First of three posts recreating workshops you may have missed at Un-Con 2019.
Planning this year’s Un-Con, Therese asked me to address the issue of career crashes and stalls. Every fiction writer has hit a snag or feels stuck. Pretty much every published fiction writer will at some point face a career crash: writing gone stale, sales stalled out, option book dropped, confidence shot.
At such times what’s helpful is reinvention, a fresh start, a new direction. The stalled or stuck writer and the derailed author both are writing safe, and that in turn derives from the same underlying condition: fear.
Every manuscript holds back in some way. WU’s own Barbara O’Neal wrote, “People who read your novels will know about you.” They will also sense things about you from what you avoid and the things you shy away from.
In my work as agent and as a teacher of fiction craft, I see fear strangling stories in a number of ways:
- Novels that obey strict genre rules
- Characters who only go so deep
- Characters who react instead of act
- Plots that don’t surprise or take risks
- Outcomes never really in doubt
- Scenes that wander
- Voice that could be anyone’s
- Pages filled with ordinary, low-tension business
- Story meaning that’s shouted (or absent) rather than demonstrated
Reinventing your fiction isn’t so much about writing a different story type as it is about writing in a different way. To do that means giving yourself permission to go big. In what ways? Many. All. Go bold and try things that are unsafe but that work—irony alert—when other writers do them.
What we’re talking about is not reinventing your fiction but reinventing you. The theme of Un-Con is Wu-nder, and the sense of wonder we feel in reading springs from what is personal to you in writing. It is also true that terrified is exactly how you want to be. When you’re terrified, you’re not playing it safe.
When you’re terrified you will succeed because, frankly, there is no other choice. So, here are some approaches to reinventing your fiction by, in part, rediscovering you, identifying your boundaries and breaking through them:
What is the opposite of habitual for you? What is impossible for you to do? What, if you did it, would people talk about for years? If you were able, how would you rage, what would you wreck, whom would you destroy—or nurture, build or love? What is analogous for your protagonist?
What would drop a bombshell on your story world? What would change that world’s whole history? What would reveal the truth of things and force people to reveal who they truly are? What is analogous in your story world?
What are you thinking about today? What is the universe trying to tell us? What is wrong? What is poisoning us? What beauty or goodness are we too blind to see? What is it that we must see, get, understand…because if we don’t, we die? How can those things become clear in your story?
If you had a megaphone what would you shout in the center of your town? If you could have a poem on the front page, what lyrical words would you write? If you could argue before the Supreme Court, what would you say? If you could deliver the State of the Union address, what would you declaim? Where can those words go in your manuscript?
What is it that you cannot have? What is not allowed, not for people like you? You’re not deserving. You haven’t earned it. You’re not that lucky. You’re so low you’ve even stopped dreaming of it, hoping for it. There’s no point. Anyway, you’re grown up now. You’re a realist. You can’t have that…what is it? Why don’t you care anymore, or why does it hurt not to have this? What is the analogous yearning for your protagonist?
What is the meanest act anyone could possibly do? What is the deepest hurt that anyone could inflict? What is the cruelest betrayal or stab in the back? What is the worst possible personal failure? What is the worst humiliation you can imagine? Who is the evilest person you’ve ever encountered? What is the worst thing that person ever did? Who can do those things in your novel? How can you do those things to your protagonist?
What cannot be in this world of ours? What good thing never happens? What have you lost that you can never get back? What is gone for all of us? What feels lost or impossible? Where are those things in your story?
Give yourself five minutes. Write like your hero or heroine would write. Write what you most want to write at this moment. Now give yourself an hour.
Reinventing your fiction means to be fierce, be dangerous, mean the utmost, cut deep, desire everything, hope for the impossible—then bring it about. Terrify yourself with the worst things and delight yourself with words. Reinvention means breaking through your barriers.
To reinvent your fiction, go ahead and give yourself a new story, if that helps, but the truth is that you already have everything you need: your fear, your longing, your wounded heart, your passionate beliefs, your unquenchable hope. Write those and like the phoenix you can rise.
What barriers do you have around your writing—and what would break through them? How will you reinvent your fiction today?
[coffee]
Donald Maass (he/him) founded the Donald Maass Literary Agency. in New York in 1980. He is the author of The Career Novelist (1996), Writing the Breakout Novel (2001), Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook (2004), The Fire in Fiction (2009), The Breakout Novelist (2011), Writing 21st Century Fiction (2012) and The Emotional Craft of Fiction (2019). He has presented hundreds of workshops around the world and is a past president of the American Association of Literary Agents (formerly AAR).
Hey Don–It’s funny, reading this, the thing that sprang to mind that had terrified me was starting over. Fear can make you feel cornered, and in some cases–in my case–it forced me to act (rather than react). And in doing so, I can see that it’s not that bad, starting over. Makes me wonder what I’d been so terrified about… Maybe seeing my own shortcomings?
Having said that, I’m terrified all over again, knowing not only that I’ve got to confront my fears in a new way, but that I’ve got to share them on the page. Makes me wonder what’s truly so terrifying about that… Maybe revealing them to myself?
Here’s to rising from the ashes (and shackles) of the past. Thanks.
I thought the same thing, Vaughn. I’ve put lots of hours into 2 new projects. I’m still not sure about them, but I hate the thought of losing all that precious time. It’s comforting knowing you decided starting over wasn’t so bad.
But maybe, as Don says, I just haven’t gone deep enough yet. So before I scrap them, I’m going to pull out my conference notes and dive in.
Revision inevitably means chucking out pages. That’s anxiety-provoking on several levels: CUT?? That means I’m no good! I’ve wasted my time! What if the new stuff I write is no better!
Please. Athletes, musicians, teachers, soldiers and many others get better with practice. Writers too. Writers especially.
Only doctors and dentists are perfect first time and all the time. True.
Hey Don,
Coincidentally, this morning I was reading through my notes from the UnCon and locked on these words that I wrote down from your lecture: “write fierce, write big, don’t write safe.”
I need to see that every time I sit down to write. Thanks for the continued inspiration!
Mary
You could make those words your screen saver or desktop background?
Good idea! Thanks! And happy holidays to you and your family!
M
Don, all I can say is, amen. Three or four years ago in San Antonio you read a brief scene I’d written during one of your exercises, and you told me, “If you can write every scene like this, you’ll have something.”
The greatest barrier to that simple advice was fear. Again and again when I found my manuscript wanting I would discover that I hadn’t written wholeheartedly and/or fearlessly.
Now, as I go through on this final draft, I read each scene out loud, because that’s when I can hear my fear holding me back. As dearly as I love this book and these characters, I keep trying to sneak in a way to hold back just a little. The reading out loud throws it right up in my face, and I can’t keep going until I deal with it.
What I appreciate so much is not only your recognition of the fear, but also your understanding of it. You write about it with compassion rather than harshness, and that kind of support makes it easier to work through the fear.
Thanks, and have a wonderful holiday season with your family!
Reading aloud is recommended by many. It sure does show which words are necessary and which are not, and where timidity dwells.
“your fear, your longing, your wounded heart, your passionate beliefs, your unquenchable hope.”
Just, thank you.
Just. Welcome. Happy holidays!
Thank you for this wonderful post; it dovetails beautifully with Julia’s most recent post on embracing the fear and darkness. Fear is such a stealer–of hopes, of dreams, of love. I’m learning over and over that some of my best writing has come out of a place of fear. Always trying to get out of the safe place under the blanket, Don. I’m re-reading your book on the Emotional Craft and applying its lessons to my historical.
You’re working on an historical? Bravo!
My most recent worry has been that my plotline isn’t interesting enough, which then funnels into fear about the likelihood of success in traditional publishing (since I’m going to try that out this go round.) I appreciate your post today for two reasons. The first is that you have given me some tools to pump up the drama and some freedom to vary a little from the genre rules. The second is because (I believe) the prompts will help me to relate more to my characters and hopeful increase the depth of their world. While there are no guarantees for long-term success in anything, I already feel better about my ability to write a stronger story in the short-term, which for me means not getting frozen up or bogged down in anxiety, which means more joy in writing. Thanks!
Imagine that you are already traditionally published.
Imagine that all your titles have had long runs on the NYTBSL.
Imagine that your royalties have banked all the money you will ever need.
Imagine that your film agents, foreign publishers and audio readers are all doing excellent work.
Imagine that all your life issues and worries have cleared up.
Imagine that you will live for another 100 years.
Imagine that you have the freedom to write anything you want, in any way that you want.
What do you write?
Oooh! You’re good! Point well taken. ;)
Thanks again!
Seasons greetings and many thanks for this post Don.
This week, I’m putting the finishing touches on a rewrite that includes reinventing how the story has been told. Your post today has given me more confidence in my choices.
Your choices are bold, Randy. That gives me confidence too!
Boy, do I love this sentence: “What we’re talking about is not reinventing your fiction but reinventing you.” Daring to be that person you never thought you could be. Or maybe it’s about excavating and releasing the person you already were, but weren’t ready to claim. No separation between me-the-writer and me-the-human being. Not a secret advanced writing technique, but a deeper dive into self. Oh yes. I needed to hear that. Again. Thank you.
Hear it. Believe it. Write it.
Oh boy.
I missed this session at UnCon and seeing all of these questions on the page a few weeks later, I can’t avoid the realization that I am flat-out terrified of of all of these questions.
The biggest fear for me, though, is one I have struggled with for 10 years, and that is neglecting my thriving freelance career, which pays good money right now, to invest more time and energy in my novel, which is a long-shot at best to produce any income and not any time soon and not as much as I currently earn freelancing.
“Don’t quit your day job” is the advice that guides my choices, and I’ve never seen any evidence that that advice is wrong. What I have seen is many friends self-publishing novels that sell maybe a few hundred copies. I applaud their accomplishments, but it’s not a path I want for myself.
Added to my to-do list: Answer all of these questions and find out what else *really* scares me on the page and in my writing life.
Thanks, Don. It was nice to see you at UnCon. I have tons of ideas from your other sessions that I attended.
Who says that a busy, lucrative day job and also writing fearless fiction are mutually exclusive?
Great to see you at Un-Con too. I think the winds are at your back. Let them blow that amazing manuscript of yours in our directions–soon!
Oh, wow….I did not at all expect that question, though perhaps I should have from the Lord and Master of Life-Altering Questions. My world is rocked. Because: “What is it that you cannot have?” Answer: Both. Now I have to rethink that. Challenge accepted.
Donald, you always ask the freaking HARDEST questions.
Curse you for that!
But you also always ask the freaking BEST questions.
Thank you for that!
Blessed and cursed. That’s me. And you. We wouldn’t have it any other way, right?
It’s called being alive.
What scares me most right now is that my third book, which was written to contract on a tight deadline (compared to my first two which were written and, most importantly, rewritten and revised at my own pace over the course of several years) will not have had the time needed to be as deep and fearless and unexpected as I want it to be. I’m not sure I’ve had the time I need to plumb the depths I hoped to plumb.
This is a familiar fear, I hear it all the time in my work as agent. Book 1 gets all the time in the world. Subsequent books are rushed along at a book-a-year pace. Oy!
The main solution is to ask for more time. If that’s not possible, identify those areas of the novel that for you represent “depth” and be sure to focus on those as you work.
And remember, in writing your third book you’re bringing two books worth of accumulated experience and skill. It’s going to be better than you think.
Way too long ago, when I first conceived of the novel that is impatiently waiting in line behind my narrative NF WIP, the premise was simple and so, alas, were my characters. Each character had one desire and one obstacle and one flaw. More recently, much credit to my hanging out here at WU, they have acquired more depth and roundness and contradictory features. Even more recently recently (is that a real term?), I have gotten quite scared of developing them even more and having them go deeper. Of going deeper with them. I tell myself that this is an encouraging development: that if I were not scared and aware of being scared, the poor novel would never stand up and deliver.
Don, it scares me to even read your post. I’ll take that as encouragement and read it again…and again…and commit the scary stuff to paper.
“Don, it scares me to even read your post. I’ll take that as encouragement and read it again…and again…and commit the scary stuff to paper.”
That is the response I hope for! Happy Holidays!
“…the truth is that you already have everything you need: your fear, your longing, your wounded heart, your passionate beliefs, your unquenchable hope.” This is truly what I’m grappling with. That at times it’s hard enough to even think about my fears, my longings, my wounded heart… but to put words on page about them can be crippling. I know I’m writing safe, but I’m afraid of the dark. Afraid of opening the pain all over again. But today… with your prompt, I’ll try again…
“Give yourself five minutes. Write like your hero or heroine would write. Write what you most want to write at this moment. Now give yourself an hour.”
Thank you for this continuation of the UnCon. I needed it today (I need the reminder everyday). Thank you.
“I’m afraid of the dark.”
Succinctly and honestly put. I hate to go into our pitch dark basement at night. I am a frightened child again, until my hand locates the light switch on the wall. When I flip it, what do I find? Just…a basement.
The dark is only scary until we shine a light into it. What’s there is more ordinary than we imagine.
To look at it another way, the emotion fear is bigger than anything we actually have to be afraid of. So, why let fear inhibit us? Especially with respect to writing. It’s just words, not even a dark basement!
Many thanks for the UnCon workshops, Don. I’m still working through my notes to find the changes I want to make in the WiP.
By the way, I’m not sure if this is due to where I am in my career or the current stage of my WiP (nearly done the first draft), but your talks felt especially effective at pulling things out of me this time. Color me grateful.