I’m fatigued by a crazy summer, but simultaneously excited about stuff coming down the pipe. Perfect time for reading (re-reading in this case) what my mom calls “sunburn novels.” You know, the kind that aren’t high literature, but perfect for an afternoon in a lounge chair getting too much sun.

Jim Butcher’s Harry Dresden novels may be my favorite of this kind. It’s a popular, fun series that can be best described as “Harry Potter for grownups.” Going through them again with a business writing coach’s eye, I found a variety of lessons all writers should internalize and apply…

Focus on What’s Important

Butcher understands that the character and the world are the most compelling aspects of his stories…and he spends his energy on developing them. In your writing, identify what you do best and give it everything you have. People will forgive you for weakness in other areas.

Don’t Worry about Perfect

The Dresden novels are B to B+ writing from a prose standpoint, sometimes even B-. Lots of “rookie mistakes” the pros warn us not to make, like overly emotive adverbs and the dreaded “bookism” dialog tag. Guess what? Nobody cares. Because he focused so well on the things he excels at, Butcher gets away with imperfection.

Stick With What Works

I’m not saying Harry doesn’t grow and change from novel to novel — in fact, his character arc is one of the best I’ve seen in such a long series. But the basic structure of most of the novels is the same. Butcher realizes what his fans want, and continues to deliver.

Constantly Seek Connection

If you can’t connect with a reader, you won’t sell any books. In the case of Dresden, Butcher plays with well-known myths, legends (urban and ancient), stories and pop-culture references. The result is a shared vocabulary that gives his stories more weight because of the connection.

Any other Harry fans out there? What else can we learn from Butcher’s longest-run character? The best coaches in the business of writing are the folks who’re doing exactly what we wish we were.

Continue reading →

I’m excited.

On Friday, I’m hitting theWillamette Writers Conference. Three days of classes, networking and writing geekery. It’s gonna be fun. In preparation for this event, I took a class from Cynthia Whitcomb about pitching story ideas to editors and agents.

At the class, I was again struck by the value of professionalism — in two ways.

INSIDER TRICKS

Every time I work with a professional in any industry, I notice they do something obvious that I never would have thought of. That something saves them time and money, and helps them get paid. It’s fair to say I’ve spent the ten years since realizing this watching pros carefully to accumulate a repertoire of those tricks.

I am a professional writer, but not a professional pitcher. At the workshop, I learned a handful of trade terms and an efficient presentation format that would never have occurred to me. I also found out that it’s totally cool to essentially buy a lottery ticket by pitching my novel to Hollywood.

Never would have thought of these things. I’m a better professional for learning them. Seriously, people, go to classes and conferences.

LOW BARRIER FOR ENTRY

Here’s the other thing I learned at the class. I’d known it before, and talk about it occasionally, but it was really underscored for me during those hours. Apologies to my classmates (and if I gave you by card there, I’m not talking about you) — but the competition is really sad.

I was amazed by the number of people who showed up unready to learn, dressed inappropriately for the task, unprepared for what the class blurb said we were going to to. We even had one student show up ready to pitch a product other than a book or screenplay.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure they’re fantastic people and very good at their day jobs — but unless they start treating their writing like a career, they’re going to stay in those day jobs for a very long time.

As writers, those of us who act like professionals have an enormous advantage over the rest of the pack. Show up on time. Turn in on deadline (or communicate well when you can’t). Dress well. Accept feedback. Don’t be rude.

For me, the class was a perfect one-two punch to get me psyched for the days ahead. On one hand, I learned skills and tricks that prepared me for my task. On the other, I got a reassuring ego boost by seeing how my competition treats this particular game.

How about all of you? What have continuing education, workshops and conferences taught you about what you do? Comment below. I’d love to hear what you have to say.

Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Long absence for me due to a long road trip, followed by a week rafting at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, followed by another long road trip — but this post isn’t just about how awesome the life of a freelance writer can be. It’s about something I listened to on the road.

I’m a big fan of audiobooks. I’m also a big fan of Robert B. Parker’s Spenser novels. As some of you know, Mr. Parker passed away in January of 2010.

This year, a new Spenser novel came out, written by Ace Atkins. The brand was just too powerful (read: profitable) to let my favorite gumshoe die. I listened to Lullaby while on the road.

It’s a competent Spenser novel that to my ear catches Parker’s style and the characters very well. It hit all the right notes, and Atkins was careful to bring in all the elements of the series that make it such a hit. He even touched on a few pieces that we haven’t heard about since the earliest novels (wood carving and Brenda Loring, for example).

He did a good job, but what do you all think about this as a concept. It’s not the first time a deceased author’s story has been carried on by another. Parker himself wrote a sequel to The Big Sleep — so he has less complaint coming than many others.

What do you think about this idea? Good or bad? Pros and cons?