If it doesn't fit, get a hammer

In today’s world of author branding and one liner sales pitches, I ran across a dilemma when I decided to make a Kindle version of an out of print book.  My problem wasn't the mechanics of getting a Kindle version because I have a cousin who works for a publishing company and knows all about getting books into electronic form.  She's also a wonderful artist.  Check.  She can even do the cover!

The difficulty is with branding.  All my recent books fit into a nice little package:  Nancy Oswald: "Writer of historical fiction for the young and young at heart…  All my recent books and the ones I am intending to write, for the time being anyway, fit into this genre.  So I’ve been struggling to decide what to do with a baseball story that involves a math-challenged base-ball-loving fifth grader and his science-geek sister who disrupts the harmony of the family by bringing home an insect collection.

The original publication date of this book was 1985, but I’d say the story setting is more of the late 70’s.  That’s pretty much historical to some folks, but to others it doesn’t seem that long ago.  Not that things haven’t changed.  My husband and I purchased our first computer with the royalties from this book. And now, several computers later, I get the jitters when I can’t check my email daily.  

But the big question is can I legitimately call this a work of historical fiction?

I think not.  Neither is it contemporary.  When I re-read it, the absence of cell phones, ipods, laptops and other modern paraphernalia dates the content.  It was set in small town Anyplace…in this case Canada where the book was first published by Scholastic.

So besides the “branding” issue, getting this book Kindle-ready has offered some other challenges and decisions. When I started on this project I thought, the book’s done, it’s in a publishable form, I own the rights, and without much more work it can be reissued on Kindle...

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

First I needed a digital copy.  I had one, I was sure, because years ago I paid someone to retype it and get it on a disk. When I found that copy in a file on my computer, it came up as gibberish.  The good news is, I had started a revision of this book in 2004, and that copy was saved and  was only half gibberish—I could delete the sections that came up as numbers and symbols and go forward.

I re-formatted, deleted the extraneous data, and started in.  As I perused the first page my first thought was, “I don’t remember writing this.”   The revisions I’d started in on at some unknown time introduced the main character in an entirely different way.  

Yikes.  Unless I wanted to go back and re-type the original version myself or have an old copy scanned, it wasn’t going to be as simple as a read-through + cover art = Kindle version.

One of the things I realized quickly is that I am not the same writer today as I was all those years ago.  My style has changed, my characters have more depth, and of course there’s the genre problem.

What started out as a few simple changes became a battle with myself.  How much to leave, how much to change, what to do about the time and setting. Leave it?  Modernize the whole thing? Scrap it?  And that nasty little thread that I started at the beginning during the partial rewrite.  What should I do with it?

La la la.

In the end I decided to keep it—both the new thread and the original 70’s venue. This meant re-arranging and adding chapters, and A LOT of blending. Not the simple task I set out to accomplish. The book ended up with a complete face-lift.  And after I did all that, I thought why not do a POD issue while I was at it?  

Well, why not?

Stay tuned for adventures with Create Space…

If it's Bland, put it in the Blender

A writer friend who is attempting her first historical fiction novel recently asked what to do with bland writing. I was hard pressed to answer because it’s something I recognize when I see it and feel it when I write it (stomach flutters and discontent).  She’s undertaking a very difficult thing:  creating fiction from a factual account.  When I first tackled the genre of historical fiction, it was hard for me to deviate from the “real” events which were so gripping in themselves, and shape them into a living, breathing narrative. It took some searching for the story in the material especially when I wanted to remain loyal to, and maintain the integrity of, the actual events.  

Not all historical fiction books do this or need to do this, but it’s different if you set out to tell a real story and fictionalize it than if you set out with a fictional story set in a specific historic time and place.  Both require accuracy of details, but I think fictionalizing fact is much harder than adding accurate historic detail to a story that deviates from a set timeline.

And believe me, I've been there.  A memorable example was during my first draft of Nothing Here But Stones when I suffered through the first 2/3 of the draft (bland bland bland) before stumbling on the suggestion of changing my tense from third person to first.  For this book, it was Key.  I scrapped the whole draft and started over in first person. This one “simple”(?) change provided an immediacy for the story that had been sorely lacking.  It also helped me to form a more personal relationship with the viewpoint character and helped me through the multiple revisions to come.

After sharing this story with my friend, I still wasn’t sure if I’d given her anything to grab onto. What is the fix?   As I was thinking this over, I was reminded of my work teaching fifth graders.  In the classroom, I was constantly trying to find ways to make the abstract concrete.  Each piece of writing varied, so there wasn't just one fix; there were many possibilities. But thinking about blandness, especially for fictional stories, two strategies popped into my mind: Snapshots and Thoughtshots.  

These terms were stolen from Barry Lane in his wonderful teacher resource on Revision, After the End.  If you’re a teacher, this book is chock-full of revision ideas.  

                                        

The “Snapshot” concept is pretty simple to get across to students:  Imagine you’re inside a photograph (or a movie).  What are the visual, concrete, physical things in the picture?  For kids, you explain this as the setting or where the characters are at the moment.  It’s basic description as we know it.

Thoughtshots are a little harder to explain because to use them requires a deeper leap into character. When you’re writing, it takes a pause and sometimes a full stop to analyze what is going on internally. What is my character thinking right now?  What is affecting him/her at an emotional level?  What does the character wish for that he/she does not have? How is what's going on right now affecting him/her?

Try the cat on the right:  "That guy next to me is on such an ego trip."

Thoughtshots require a different type of imagining:  imagining your way into someone else’s mind.  In this case the character(s) in your story.

With this said, it’s the balance between Snapshots and Thoughshots that’s important.  Setting and description are important for engaging the reader in the details needed to bring the story to life.  But spending too much time standing at the photographic overlook can detour a reader away from the main purpose of the expedition.

Readers want to fully experience the trip.   And the way they experience it is through the hearts and souls of the characters on the page--most often through the one viewpoint character you want them to care about the most.  

One way to make the journey more enjoyable is to blend and balance the outer world with the inner.Too much of either one will put readers to sleep, or start them dialing the telephone number for character psychiatric care.

At the end of their travels, a reader should be able to do more than give a list of motels and restaurants.   Readers want the full experience—one that will linger and resonate on an emotional level long after they've reached their destination.