The Purpose Driven Novel

Novel Spaces is in its 10th year! Over the coming months we'll be featuring some of the most popular posts from our archives. This one was first published October 9, 2011.

By Jewel Amethyst

It’s 3am. My blog post is due, and I hadn’t a clue what to write about. So I did what I should have done nine days ago: I visited the Novelspaces Authors' private blog to view the theme for this month. The theme is totally optional, and most novelnaughts thus far have elected to ignore the themes. But right now, it is serving the purpose it was intended for. It is giving me a topic to blog about when my mind is drawing a blank.

The theme for this month is: “Should novels have a purpose beyond entertaining the reader?”

The short answer is, it depends.

There are many different types of novels. Some have the deliberate purpose of educating the reader. Case in point, Carol Mitchell’s “Caribbean Adventure Series.” They are a series of very entertaining children’s novels set in different Caribbean Islands. It is quite clear that they are meant to expose children to the history and to some extent geography of the Caribbean islands. I myself have embarked on a similar project but with the aim of exposing elementary to middle school students to cell and microbiology through a series of science adventure novels. For children’s books especially, the list of novels that make deliberate attempts to educate is extensive.

Even for adult novels, education is often a secondary (if not primary) purpose of many novels. Some bring awareness to the struggles of racism, classism, discrimination in an entertaining manner. One of my favorite books, “To Kill a Mockingbird”, does just that. Others expose life in certain eras, uplift women, or men or some country. The much talked about book, “The Help” brings to light the life and times of women of color working as home domestics in segregated America. And we cannot forget the timeless classic, “Roots” and its historical impact.

Some books push an agenda or a political opinion. John Grisham’s “The Chamber,” and “A Time to Kill” very entertainingly address some pressing issues like the death penalty. Time won’t permit me to list even 0.00001% of the fiction novels (and I won’t even go into the creative non-fiction genre) that pushes an agenda, political, social, or economic opinion.

But then there are some books whose sole purpose is to entertain. Many romances, horror, sci-fi and yes erotica, fall into that category. Yet even these books can unwittingly educate or promote an agenda. Even when the author’s aim is strictly to entertain the reader, there is still often a secondary purpose, subtle though it may be. Whether that purpose is to inspire, or teach, or expose something, it is there.

So in my opinion, it does not matter whether or not a novel is written solely for the entertainment of the reader. It will still serve a secondary purpose of educating the reader in some fashion. Furthermore, the readers will take away more from the book that the author even intended.

What do you think? Should novels have a purpose beyond entertaining the reader?

Master and Commander of Fine Arts! (Now what?)

As some of you know, I've just completed my MFA program in creative writing at National University. Many – actually, pretty much all – of my friends who are professional writers tried to talk me out of going for my degree. For the most part their arguments were variations on the same theme: I was tying up a lot of my writing time and creative energy for two years – not to mention going some $40,000 in debt – earning a piece of paper that wouldn't help my writing career at all. Everything they said was true.

However, in addition to being a writer, I want to teach creative writing at the university level. And to do that I need a terminal degree – a master of fine arts degree – in creative writing. I've been a teacher since the 1980s – first in public schools, then in community support services. It's what I was doing while writing part-time to establish my career as a writer; it's the career I left to become a full-time freelance writer three years ago this month. Teaching is in my nature. This is not to say professional writers are opposed to learning about writing. Far from it.

A writer's education is a continuous, lifelong process. However, workshops for professional writers differ substantially from creative writing classes. Many workshops for working writers focus on mastering specific skills, often in the context of applying those skills to a particular genre. In some of the better ones the student writers read everyone else's work, then listen as a professional editor – or writer proficient enough in the target skill to conduct the workshop – explains what is and/or is not effective in each story. In way too many academic settings each student submits a short work, then "sits in the bubble" – forbidden to respond to anything her classmates say – while her peers talk about what they think of the piece. Among professionals, peer review has many benefits; when the peers are equally inexperienced newcomers to the craft, the utility of the exercise is questionable. (In Reading Like a Writer, which I highly recommend, Francine Prose imagines Franz Kafka being required to sit helplessly and listen to writing students opine they don't really 'get' the whole turning-into-a-giant-bug thing in Metamorphosis and suggest he spend more time exploring Gregor's childhood and relationship with his family before he became a bug so he'd be more accessible to the reader.) I'll talk more about the structure of an effective peer-based class and/or workshop in a future column.

The difference between a Creative Writing program's approach and the English Department's approach to studying the written word is completely different. As a broad generality, I'd suggest that if your goal is to be a professional writer, avoid taking any English courses on writing. (And I think it was the English Department approach my friends were warning me against.) An example to illustrate why I feel that way: In MCW-635, Young Adult Lit, the class read, discussed and analyzed Anne of Green Gables, The Outsiders, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, Hunger Games, Speak, and American-Born Chinese. We looked at the writer's purpose, both as evident in the text and in the writer's statements about the work, her techniques and choices, why what worked worked, and how we as writers might employ those techniques in our own work.

In ENG-600, Literary Theory, we didn't read a thing in the original. We read what scholars of literary criticism had written about different works, which may or may not include quotes of the work in question. A dissenting opinion by a scholar of a different school of criticism was always provided. The class then discussed whether the arguments presented fit the letter of the critical theory each represented. If anyone had the temerity – as I did – to point out that theories were completely irrelevant and often directly contradicted what the writer had said about her work, it would be explained from on high that nothing the writer had to say about the work was relevant because the writer was by definition too close to the work – and almost certainly untrained in literary theory – and therefore unqualified to comment. (Fearing I'd fallen into a bad class, I reached out to a friend of mine who has a doctorate in English. He confirmed my experience was fairly typical and gave me pointers on the art of searching the internet for scholarly citations that support your opinion.)

 Did I as a writer learn anything about writing from the creative writing classes? Yes, of course. I'd have to be pretty dense not to. I worked with some very talented writers and instructors. Did I learn $40,000 worth? Depends on what I do with what I learned. Would I recommend earning an MFA in creative writing? Only if you intend, as I do, to teach. Colleges and universities require the academic qualifications of even their adjunct instructors to be documented by a regionally accredited institution of higher education. If your intention, however, is to broaden and deepen your skill set as a writer there are many professional workshops and programs that will teach you as much or more at less cost.

Reading for Writers

In my column a few weeks ago on what I say to new(er) writers who ask my advice I wrote I steer them toward a few websites and recommend some reading. It occurred to me (shortly after reading Eugenia's column) that it would be helpful if I actually shared some of the websites and books I recommend in the coffee shop here.

I'm going to assume everyone here knows about this site, can track down their favorite authors' blogs, and knows where to find the main sites of their favorite genres. To those I meet in real life who don't, I say: "Search the web for sites related to authors you admire or communities of writers in the genre you're interested in." Really. I don't have a rolodex with me at the coffee shop. Beyond that… Anyone who knows me knows I always credit Dean Wesley Smith and his wife, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, with giving me the kick in the head I needed to get professional about my writing. I recommend their workshops to anyone who can afford the expense and time. For those of us who can't get to the Oregon coast this season, either of their sites is an education on the craft and business of writing. They're both worth studying in depth and visiting weekly (Only because daily would be a bit obsessive). Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn Rusch

A few months ago someone (I forget who) recommended I check out Cheryl Klein's website; I did and have since become a fan. Klein's an editor of books for children and young adults – some of which you may have heard; her more obscure titles include the American editions of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and HP & the Deathly Hallows. Not as extensive as Rusch's site, but full of useful information. And fun.

The first book I recommend writers read has nothing to do with writing. It is also the only book I recommend without qualifiers like "this might not be for everyone, but…" Larry Winget's It's Called Work for a Reason is about developing and strengthening your work ethic. The subtitle says it all: "Your Success Is Your Own Damn Fault." Unless you're willing to make the commitment to work at your writing, nothing else will help you.

I have never found a book on the writing process that I agree with 100%. But I usually find something useful in every one. My favorite part of Stephen King's On Writing is page 83 where he calls my uncle a "heavy hitter." However, the most useful thing, the thing that made the book worth reading, was his journalistic epiphany, the moment he realized what "editing" meant. A lesson reinforced by some 1st-draft-to-2nd draft examples. But the real reason the book's on my shelf is page 83. It's bookmarked.

A book that has more to do with work habits than muse is Jerry Weinberg's On Writing: Fieldstone Method. Weinberg designed computer systems for NASA, he's an expert on the psychology of communication including conflict resolution and getting disparate groups to work together. To build a wall of fieldstones, the farmer searches out the stones, collects them in one place, sorts them, then considers each one and how to use in in making the wall she wants. His approach doesn't work for everyone, and not all of his approach works for me, but it's helped me in my juggling projects' components (a big issue for us ADD types) and "Dani's Decimation" – an editing technique – is excellent.

I also recommend Second Sight by Cheryl Klein. It's a collection of her speeches, training sessions, what-have-you, on writing and publishing from the editor's perspective. And it's a perspective I like: "I am extremely wary of the word 'feel' in a manuscript, as in 'Cheryl felt extremely wary.' If you're having to tell me what your character is feeling, that makes me suspicious hat I'm not feeling it too." Second Sight is full of true stories and annotated examples to illustrate each phase of the writing, editing, and publishing process.

Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maass is almost an exercise in reverse engineering. He takes top-selling novels apart and explains the qualities that made them so successful. (There's also workbook) Maass presents a lot of good information, particularly in how to analyze a novel, and the workbook has many useful exercises, but his approach is not foolproof. And not everyone finds his approach – tailoring your work to the marketplace – palatable.
Another book with a superficially similar intent is Albert Zuckerman's Writing the Blockbuster Novel, a step-by-step analysis of how Ken Follett wrote The Man From St. Petersburg. Now out of print as nearly as I can tell, Blockbuster focuses on the process and choices involved in writing a novel, not writing to market.

I like Lawrence Block's collections of his Writer's Digest columns (Telling Lies for Fun and Profit; Spider, Spin Me a Web; and The Liar's Companion as much for what he has to say about being a writer as for his writing advice. Much of which I actually follow.

And finally, sometimes I read books I hate. I almost always storyboard my projects. Graph paper with circles and arrows or index cards I can shuffle and spread on the kitchen table. I usually see key moments as mountains rising out of a dense fog. I know where they are and in which order I'll get to them, but the path from peak to peak is shrouded in mist. Lately I've been thinking I could benefit from more structure in how I go about my work. To this end I've been reading K.M. Weiland's Outlining Your Novel. It's a difficult and at times painful experience – particularly given Weiland's oft-repeated opinion of folks who write as I do – but I'm taking my time and mining for things I might be able to use in my own work.

How about you? What books or authors have you found most useful in learning your craft?

Ancient Grist for the Mill

About a thousand years ago, a series of earthquakes in the Andes shifted the course of the rivers that drained into the Pacific.  Along the coast, the great pyramids, from which the Moche lords watched over their irrigated fields, fell into ruin.  

No longer alongside the rivers, these palatial structures of the divine lords bore witness to a people losing their religion.  The age-old problem with divine kingship: if the weather kicks you in the teeth, how much of a god are you?  All-powerful and you can’t even bring in the crops?  One by one, as the fields dried up, these Moche kingdoms fell into ruin.

About five hundred years later, Spanish soldiers arrived, intent on redistributing the wealth of ancient Peru.  Armed with Toledo steel swords, Bibles, nearly-useless guns, and fighting dogs, they began the decades-long process of robbing a continent as they simultaneously went about converting the population to Christianity.  

Those old pyramids, ruins even then, were still powerful.  They’re still powerful today, drawing shamans and spiritualists by the thousands.  And the images on those pyramids, images of divinities unknown to the Spaniards, had never been forgotten.

About five hundred years later, I joined a team of archaeologists excavating one of these pyramids.  Like a three-day-old sand castle, it held some ruined sway over a swath of coastline.  Called El Brujo, the sorcerer, this pyramid was especially interesting because it was here that the Spanish built one of the first Christian churches in South America.

El Brujo - the ruins as they look today, with roof tents to keep the images safe from weather

So what was that like?  A few priests out here on the edge of the known world, the inquisition burning hotter than molten Toledo steel, what would it have been like to convert the natives?

El Brujo Pyramid after a thousand years of neglect, and a little excavation

Place on Pyramid We Were Pretty Sure We'd Find Something Really Interesting

Really Interesting Image We Found on the Pyramid - 

CHECK OUT THOSE GOGGLES - THEY'RE LIKE SQUARES WITH DOTS!

Not so hard, if you read their reports.  The archives are filled with storied accounts of effort, of sermon, of initial disbelief, and of eventual acceptance of this powerful new faith.  But that’s not the way it happened.  

A few priests, out here on the edge of the known world, would very likely have been scared nearly out of their minds.  Fail, and the inquisitors might cast an eye your way.  You don’t want that.  So you must not fail.  And if conversion means you turn a blind eye now and again when one of your new converts paints an image of an old god next to your old god, then you dare not cause a fuss.  

Aerial Image of the Ruins of the Church - as taken from my photo balloon

Over the course of our excavations, we found evidence that suggests that these priests, in order to get their job done, had to extend an extraordinary courtesy to their converts -- they allowed their own native religious imagery to sit alongside Christian imagery.  And that was not a decision they would have taken lightly.  If the inquisitors caught a whiff of that, these priests would have been burnt alive.

Moche Imagery found on the walls of the church - THOSE SAME SQUARES WITH DOTS!!!!!

We learn more about the past with each each shovel of dirt.  As as we learn more about it, we unearth more opportunities to illustrate our shared history by populating a corner of time and space with our fiction.  This is the moment in time I was exploring in my archaeological mystery AMERICAN CALIPHATE.

Bend and Stretch

Even as I work my way through Seminar on Narrative Nonfiction on my journey to MFA-hood, I've been spending an hour or so each week on exercises from one of my Seminar on Fiction texts. No, these are not homework assignments I need to make up. They're practice.

One of our weekly tasks in Seminar on Fiction was to complete an exercise of our choice from The 3 AM Epiphany by Brian Kiteley, a collection of 201 writing exercises. We would then present the result for class review, along with any explanation of our process we thought necessary. Typical exercises included "Write a 500-word story fragment without using the letter e." or "Write a conversation in which no words are said. Describe the conversation as observed by a stranger; do not show what the characters are thinking." or "Write an uncensored sex scene. Use the names of kitchen or food items for all of the nouns and steps in the cooking process for all of the verbs."

I really disliked doing these. For one thing, I'm a writer – which means I really want to be in control, making the writing decisions, knowing how things turn out in advance. I can write to editor specs, no problem, but being told what to write at this level annoyed me mightily. (Fortunately, I go over myself and managed to work my way through the class successfully.) For another thing, some of Kiteley's exercises were hard. Or worse, made no sense – the activity didn't seem to have anything to do with the stated objective. The first week I chose a gimme: "Describe an exotic fictional locale." I write science fiction, this I do in my sleep. Five hundred words in twenty minutes; instant A. By the second week it occurred to me that if I was going to get my money's worth out of the course I was going to have to stretch and push myself. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy to put that book on the shelf for the last time when the course was over.

Deciding which exercise I was going to do each week had necessitated reading several and making a choice. Against my will I found myself thinking about those exercises I'd looked at but hadn't tried. I also started noticing points in my own writing where I used skills addressed in the exercises. It took me longer than I'd like to admit to remember something I'd learned nearly a decade ago:
A concert pianist practices twenty or thirty hours for every hour she's on stage. That's after she's completed years of lessons and practice to master her craft well enough to be on stage in the first place. A champion athlete trains long and hard to prepare herself for an event that may last seconds. Everyone expects this of them, the athlete and pianist expect it of themselves. No one expects to succeed – or get paid – for their first effort. Except writers. Writing is a craft and a skill that requires constant work, constant practice to maintain.
I took the book back down off the shelf.

In the past I've written about reading like a writer: analyzing a work you admire – a scene that stuck with you, a character you can't forget – to see how the writer pulled it off. Keep doing that. But beyond that we as writers need to work constantly at our craft. Learn new skills or sharpen existing ones. It's work. I do not enjoy most of Kiteley's exercises. I hate more than a few. But I'm working my way through the book, tackling each one in turn. Because I'm never going to know all there is to know about being a writer. All I can do is what I should do: learn – and practice – everything I can.

Lessons Learned

I have been a writer, which is to say, a storyteller, all of my life. I've been writing and mailing out stories since 1966. I am also a teacher, though I didn't realize that until I was an adult. The quarter century immediately prior to my decision to write full-time was devoted to teaching in public schools, community colleges, and the community. Both writing and teaching are, I think, matters of temperament. Certainly no one does either for the money.

For a decade or so I've had the idea of combining my two interests and teaching creative writing at the university level. The practical obstacle to what seems a natural move is a piece of paper. Specifically, my lack of a terminal degree in writing – a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing – means I have not established my bona fides as one worthy of teaching the craft at a university. Daunting were the facts earning an MFA-CW would require at least two years and would cost a good deal more than I'd make as a writer during that time. Wal-Mart's decision to no longer hire senior citizens as door greeters caused me to reevaluate my options vis-à-vis late-life careers. Valerie, CFO of the Killiany family, helped by pointing out a Stafford Education Loan would push the problem of cost out to 2015 – plenty of time for me to either earn the money or declare bankruptsy. The clincher was a careful analysis of the calendar. It seems that in two years I'll be sixty-one whether or not I spent the time working toward something I want. So I decided to go back to school.

The first MFA program I considered was that offered by UNC-Wilmington – mostly because it's right down the street. I interviewed with a gatekeeper who looked over the body of work I'd brought in – or rather, looked at the covers of my Star Trek and MechWarrior books – and without a glance at my transcript suggested I try a few undergraduate classes before undertaking an MFA. Just to see if I was "ready for serious writing."
So.
I scouted the internet for programs that had minimal residency requirements or were completely online. Found an online program, researched to make sure the degree it awarded was honored by more traditional universities (VERY important), and enrolled.

My first 600-level course was in the English department; straightforward academia with no delusions of art. The Pedagogy of Composition class spent a lot of time on the elements of rhetoric: ethos (character), logos (reason), and pathos (emotion) – though eros (porn) was never mentioned – purposes and methods of composition, and agreeing thought itself is not possible without language. (Which is silly; language slows thought down. Ask any math major.) Pretty heavy going for an old man who hadn't been in school for a few decades, but I managed; even enjoyed myself.

I admit I had some trepidation going in to my second class: a seminar on creative writing. The academics didn't bother me: reading about writing, reading short fiction by various authors and Butler's Kindred – one of my favorite novels. I had no problem with weekly writing exercises and was looking forward to producing a short story. What worried me was the fact we students were to critique each other's writing exercises and short stories. Not to mention the final assignment is to rewrite our short story to reflect what we've learned from the others' critiques. Though I've taken part in professional workshops – training in specific markets and techniques – folks who know me know I don't think much of writers' groups in which peers analyze each other's work. (Francine Prose once imagined a group steeped in the argot of writing groups telling Kafka they couldn't connect with the idea of a man turning into a beetle and recommending he rethink whose story he was telling and what was at stake.) Plus ... Do I really need to reiterate how I feel about rewriting?

Six weeks in I'm not ready to reverse my position on writing groups or peer critiques, but I'm less hostile than I was. My fellow students are an eclectic lot – people who are educators, business owners and managers, serve in the military or are unemployed – from all over the place (including two overseas students for whom English is their second language). Skill levels range from high-school-esque to I-hope-I-write-like-that-when-I-grow-up. And critiquing/being critiqued has not been the purgatory I expected. Going into detail would betray confidentiality, but I will tell you that the least proficient writer makes the most useful comments and has the most telling insights into the work of others. I'm thinking future editor.
However, though my feelings toward peer-group critiques are mellowing, I don't think this is the most important – or useful – component of the class. Those are, in ascending order:
The structure of the class; the calendar of short and long deadlines helps reinforce the habit of discipline (something freelancers are known to struggle with).
The weekly writing exercises (from Kiteley's The 3 A.M. Epiphany), which provide us with needed challenges and practice (Professional writers should practice at least as much as professional pianists – a fact writers tend to resist. We like to tell folks we're working on our novel, not practicing POV shifts.)
Finally, and most enlighteningly for me, reading established classics. Chekhov, Faulkner, Kafka, O'Connor, Pynchon, Tolstoy, Twain – writers I either rarely read or have not read since, well, college. I'm pretty good about keeping up with current writers in the genres that interest me as markets – I watch trends and note tropes handled well – that's good business. But the classics became classic for a reason; and great writers were great writers before literature courses glommed on to them. Time spent reading their works is not only rewarding for the reader, it's instructive – and challenging – for the writer.

They Like Your Money!

A week or so ago, I got an e-Mail from someone inviting me to submit my book(s) for an award!

I’m not going to name them here, but the group identified in the e-Mail wanted to let me know that, assuming I met the criteria as determined by their panel of volunteer judges (“comprised of published authors, writers, publishers, editors, professionals, experts in a variety of fields, and prolific readers”), I’d be eligible for all sorts of cool stuff, such as:

• A “professional” press release, ready for distribution to media outlets!
• Neat little foil award stickers to place on my book covers!
• Identification from this group that I—that’s right, little old me—am an Award-Winning Author/Writer! (I’m assuming this last bit is an either/or kind of thing.)
• The “potential” for increased sales!
• Recognition that I and my book are just that gosh-darned special!
• Appreciation for my significant monetary contribution!
• Pride and confidence that I, too, can be Awesome!
• A Certificate of Awesomeness!

What did I have to do? Simply fill out the award entry form, in which I tell them why my book(s) meet their Criteria of Awesome. Do I need to send in a representative sample of the work(s) in question? Well, heck no! We’ll get to that later. For now, they can judge my Level of Awesomeness just from the 25 (or fewer) words of description that I include in the entry form. Once that’s done, we can get to the important part of the whole process. What’s that? Why, the payment, of course: One for each Awesome Book you plan to submit, if you please.

(Yes, I know I used “Awesome” a lot up there, but by golly! This is just so great!)

My Spidey-sense already tingling, I ventured to the website included in the e-Mail, and several of the telltale warning signs were there: No contact information, other than the standard e-Mail drop. No information on the people running the site or conducting the judging. No explanation as to what use(s) the exorbitant entry fees are put. No insider info as to the distinction between “author” and “writer,” or what a “professional” on this panel might be if they’re not already a writer, publisher, editor or other “expert in a variety of fields,” or how any of these people might be qualified to bestow an award for anything.

And no real “award,” either.

As Colonel Sherman T. Potter might once have said on an old episode of M*A*S*H, “Buffalo bagels!”

Remember the old adage, “Money flows to the writer?” For those wondering, it’s a battle-tested nugget of wisdom, passed down from veterans to aspiring up-and-comers, and often illustrated with examples like, “Don’t pay to have your work published,” or “Don’t pay an agent anything up front” and so on and so forth. As more experienced word-slingers know, there’s an entire industry out there devoted to separating the hopeful and naïve novice writer from his or her money. Vanity publishers, scam agents, “producers” looking to make off with the movie/TV rights to your work, writing “contests” that never award any prizes. The list goes on.

While vanity presses were (and remain) by and large traps to be avoided, the new era of independent and self publishing in the print-on-demand and electronic realms has forced us to reconsider the old money flow principle in certain respects, such as paying for cover art, copyediting services or marketing and promotion services, and so on. Because of this new reality, we must remain ever vigilant for the latest schemes from the “too good to be true” or “this makes no sense if I think it through” crowds. “Awards” like these are just another flavor of that. A casual investigation via Google of the group in question told me little about it or the supposed significance of its award, but did point me to known and trusted writer’s forums (example: AbsoluteWrite.com, WinningWriters.com, etc.) where the general advice was to avoid it.

Is this group a scam? Well, that’s an interesting question. If you read the information on their site, it’s worded in such a manner that they’re not actually lying. They’ll give you everything they’re proposing, but if you consider the package, you realize it doesn’t amount to anything, except a chance for you to buy more of whatever it is they’re selling. In this case, you’d be paying somebody anywhere from $75 to $95 per book to be told by a bunch of people you don’t know, “Your book is fantastic, and so are you!”

Hey, I’ll tell you that for only half their asking price, and I won’t even call you “sucker” under my breath as I’m pocketing your money. See me after the show.

Anyone else have any juicy scams they want to share? Maybe you got this same invitation, so you know the group I’m describing. Let’s swap war stories.

The Purpose Driven Novel

It’s 3am. My blog post is due, and I hadn’t a clue what to write about. So I did what I should have done nine days ago: I visited the Novelspaces Authors' private blog to view the theme for this month. The theme is totally optional, and most novelnaughts thus far have elected to ignore the themes. But right now, it is serving the purpose it was intended for. It is giving me a topic to blog about when my mind is drawing a blank.

The theme for this month is: “Should novels have a purpose beyond entertaining the reader?”

The short answer is, it depends.

There are many different types of novels. Some have the deliberate purpose of educating the reader. Case in point, Carol Mitchell’s “Caribbean Adventure Series.” They are a series of very entertaining children’s novels set in different Caribbean Islands. It is quite clear that they are meant to expose children to the history and to some extent geography of the Caribbean islands. I myself have embarked on a similar project but with the aim of exposing elementary to middle school students to cell and microbiology through a series of science adventure novels. For children’s books especially, the list of novels that make deliberate attempts to educate is extensive.

Even for adult novels, education is often a secondary (if not primary) purpose of many novels. Some bring awareness to the struggles of racism, classism, discrimination in an entertaining manner. One of my favorite books, “To Kill a Mockingbird”, does just that. Others expose life in certain eras, uplift women, or men or some country. The much talked about book, “The Help” brings to light the life and times of women of color working as home domestics in segregated America. And we cannot forget the timeless classic, “Roots” and its historical impact.

Some books push an agenda or a political opinion. John Grisham’s “The Chamber,” and “A Time to Kill” very entertainingly address some pressing issues like the death penalty. Time won’t permit me to list even 0.00001% of the fiction novels (and I won’t even go into the creative non-fiction genre) that pushes an agenda, political, social, or economic opinion.

But then there are some books whose sole purpose is to entertain. Many romances, horror, sci-fi and yes erotica, fall into that category. Yet even these books can unwittingly educate or promote an agenda. Even when the author’s aim is strictly to entertain the reader, there is still often a secondary purpose, subtle though it may be. Whether that purpose is to inspire, or teach, or expose something, it is there.

So in my opinion, it does not matter whether or not a novel is written solely for the entertainment of the reader. It will still serve a secondary purpose of educating the reader in some fashion. Furthermore, the readers will take away more from the book that the author even intended.

What do you think? Should novels have a purpose beyond entertaining the reader?

Why You Should Consider Applying to the Clarion Workshop This Year

As of 1 December, the Clarion Science Fiction and Writers' Workshop opened to applications for the class of 2011.

Here's the official announcement:

Clarion is widely recognized as a premier training ground for aspiring writers of fantasy and science fiction short stories. The 2011 writers in residence are Nina Kiriki Hoffman, John Scalzi, Elizabeth Bear, David Anthony Durham, John Kessel, and Kij Johnson. Each year 18 students, ranging in age from late teens to those in mid-career, are selected from applicants who have the potential for highly successful writing careers. Students are expected to write several new short stories during the six-week workshop, and to give and receive constructive criticism. Instructors and students reside together in University of California at San Diego campus apartments throughout the intensive six-week program.

Application period: December 1 – March 1. Applicants must submit two short stories with their application.

Workshop: June 26 – August 6, 2011. http://clarion.ucsd.edu

So why should you consider applying?

• You'll learn how to critique other people's writing and thus your own.
• Your writing will improve amazingly.
• You'll make several friends for life.
• You get to spend six weeks on a tree-filled campus immersed in writing—no cooking, no chores, no noisy children or demanding pets, nothing at all to prevent you from living and breathing writing.
• You'll have the most fun one can possibly have while being severely sleep deprived.
• You'll find out whether you truly want to be a writer.
• Being a Clarion grad opens doors for you and gives you a professional connection to dozens of professional sf/f writers (and writers in some other genres as well).
• Your life will change forever.

Yes, Clarion is pricey—nearly $5000 this year. (That includes tuition, private room in a three-person apartment with kitchen, Internet service, and three meals per day at the dining hall, as well as a parking pass if you take your car.) Some scholarships are available.

However, if you truly want to be a professional or semiprofessional writer, Clarion is worth the money. In essence, it leapfrogs you and your career several years ahead of where you'd be otherwise. And if you discover that the writing life is not for you, then you can stop wasting time writing and get on with what you should be doing with your life.

If you have any questions about Clarion, feel free to post them in the comments or email me at ShaunaRoberts [at] ShaunaRoberts [dot] com.

—Shauna Roberts

Revisiting Star Trek

Last week I had the pleasure of proofing the print layout of Honor, my 2005 Star Trek: Starfleet Corps of Engineers e-book, for the upcoming Out of the Cocoon omnibus. I've developed a bit as a writer in the six years since writing Honor, so it's no surprise I found several things I would do a bit differently today (I'm a bit less fond of telegraphic sentences than I once was.), but as a storyteller I was glad to see the tale still holds up.

I began my career writing with Star Trek; my first sale was "Personal Log," a short story that appeared in Strange New Worlds IV. I once defined myself as a Trek writer and envisioned expanding the Trek universe through novels and stories for decades. As it happened, Honor was my last sale to Pocket Books. There was a change in editors and, though I pitched short stories and novels for a few years, nothing clicked with the new leadership. (And no, there was nothing wrong with the editor's taste – he shepherded some of Star Trek's best fiction into print.) That editor is no longer with Pocket – I don't recognize the name of the editor I'm corresponding with now – and I'd be lying if the idea of pitching for Trek didn't cross my mind. As in: I spent an afternoon and evening with my old Trek reference books and thumbing through novels and anthologies I've collected over the years but hadn't gotten around to reading.

Today I sorted my Trek novels into those I liked and/or looked interesting and/or had been written by friends of mine and filled a 10-ream box with the ones I didn't care for or didn't capture my imagination; I'll be taking those to the Salvation Army store in the morning. I'd love to write for the Vanguard series and I have a half-dozen ideas for TNG and DS9 stories and I really wish the Corps of Engineers were still flying on a regular basis. But …
I'm working to expand my career beyond write for hire. Much as I appreciate the (slightly more) regular income and comfort of contracts going in, I need fewer ties to media tie-in, not more.

One treasure I found among the Trek reference books (and yes, I kept those) was my notebook from a media tie-in writing workshop with Dean Wesley Smith and his wife Kristine Kathryn Rusch back in 2003. If you can find a way to get to the coast of Oregon, these workshops are worth every effort to attend. They have more than paid for themselves in my career – and the careers of a dozen other writers I can name. Though I had published a few (Trek) short stories, I owe my transition from guy hoping to become an author to professional writer to what I learned from Dean and Kris. (And if you can't afford to get to them, as I haven't these last five years, do what I do: Click on those names and read their websites.)

A few of the notes I jotted that week in early August, 2003:

Read the trades (Publishers' Weekly, Romantic Times, Mystery Scene, etc.) cover to cover. 95% of the information will be useless to you; 4% will be eventually useful; 1% will be immediately vital – but you won't recognize it unless you've learned the market. Study the industry, learn the market.

Choose something to master. Cliffhangers. Time shifts. Viewpoint changes. With every book, every story, find a challenge and practice something new. Perfect your technique.

Do not spend the money until after the cheque clears.

Your writing career is a very large brick building. You build it one brick at a time. Every contact you make is a brick. Every piece you write is a brick. Learn your craft; make your foundation as wide and deep as you can. Then place your bricks. What you build is up to you.

Clarion Workshop Opens for Applications

The Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop is accepting applications for its 2010 class from 1 December 2009 through 1 March 2010.

For those unfamiliar with the Clarion workshop, it is an intensive six-week-long workshop in which you write short stories and critique the stories of your seventeen classmates. Ideally, you write six stories during those six weeks, but the number is up to you.

Although the instructors come from the world of speculative fiction and the workshop teaching focuses on spec fic, people who write in any genre are welcome to apply.

The lineup of teachers for 2010 is especially wonderful:

• Delia Sherman, fantasy writer and anthologist
• George R.R. Martin, fantasy writer
• Dale Bailey, horror writer
• Samuel Delaney, science fiction writer and literary critic
• Jeff VanderMeer, fantasy writer and anthologist
• Ann VanderMeer, publisher, editor, and anthologist

The online application process is easy. You submit contact information, a brief summary of your educational background, a few details about your writing habits and goals, and two short stories.

As you may know, I attended Clarion in 2009 and found it worth every penny. My writing improved, my critiquing ability improved, and I made seventeen friends-for-life, most or all of whom will be famous writers one day. I blogged about the experience here and here.

To learn about Clarion 2010 and the application process, check out the Website http://clarion.ucsd.edu/workshop.html and the links there.

If you want to know more about my six weeks at Clarion, please feel free to ask questions in the comments or to email me privately at ShaunaRoberts [at] ShaunaRoberts.com.


Thanks for visiting. I'll be blogging at Novel Spaces again on December 24, when I'll talk about networking at writers'conferences.

—Shauna Roberts

First Scenes First

I must give credit to the http://www.writersonlineworkshops.com/ newsletter I received recently - I found the following to be quite helpful, as I was writing an opening scene that very day. I thought I'd share it with you today. Always sharpening that writer's craft pencil, and every little bit helps. Enjoy!

First Scenes First
I want you to walk to your bookshelf. At random, pick out a novel, any novel, that you've already read. Reread the first scene of this novel before continuing this discussion. [Waiting for you to select and read first scene ? tick tock, tick tock ?] After you've read this first scene, I want you to ask yourself the following questions:

What did you learn about the character in this scene?
What hints of complications or future tensions are found in this scene?
What do you know about the plot so far?
What is the significance of starting at this exact point in time?
As a reader, did you feel you immediately knew enough about the character to be drawn in?

The opening scene of your novel carries a lot of weight. It needs to simultaneously introduce you to your protagonist and to a significant situation. First impressions aren't just important for meeting people. They may determine whether the shopper in the bookstore goes on to become your reader.

The Clarion Workshop

I had the great privilege of attending the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers’ Workshop at the University of California at San Diego this summer. The eighteen students spent the six-week-long workshop writing stories and critiquing them.

Critiquing is at the heart of the Clarion method and the Clarion philosophy, which is that you become a better writer by reading and critiquing the stories of others.

Each morning, for four hours, we critiqued three or four stories written at the workshop. Each student was allowed to speak about each story for as long as three minutes. Afterward, the instructor of the week spoke as long as he or she wanted to, and then the story’s author responded to the critiques.

In the afternoon, we met one-on-one with the instructor, worked on our next story (most people wrote one per week), socialized with other students, went to the nearby cliffs (at right) or ocean to decompress, or napped.

In the late afternoon, we received the stories to be critiqued for the next day. We were often up till the early hours of the morning critiquing because evenings frequently included a talk by the instructor of the week, a trip to a restaurant, a field trip to Mysterious Galaxy (a San Diego bookstore, also online, that specializes in speculative fiction and mysteries) for author talks and shopping, or a wait for stories turned in late.

Did critiquing help me become a better writer? Yes. I learned to look at stories with an eye not to whether they were good, but to how they could be better. I saw mistakes people made and tried to figure out how they could be avoided or fixed. I learned new questions to ask when evaluating stories, whether mine or others: What did this story need to do to succeed? Did the story do that? Could the story accomplish its goals in a more effective way? I saw the risks other students took in their writing and realized I needed to take more risks myself and try new things.

The pressure-cooker atmosphere had pluses and minuses. On the one hand, many people were surprised to learn how quickly they could write a half-decent story when they had to. Everyone produced in a brief time stories they may be able to sell later. On the other hand, sleep deprivation and short deadlines meant that no one wrote the best stories they could, and the critiquing as a result sometimes focused on problems the writer already knew existed but hadn't had time to fix.

Contrary to the Clarion philosophy, I learned more from being critiqued than critiquing. It would seem almost impossible not to. When eighteen brilliant people study your stories and tell you what works, what doesn’t, and why, you learn a lot about your strengths and weaknesses, and you learn it quickly.

Although not everyone can go to Clarion, everyone can learn something from its approach. No matter what your avocation of choice—writing, playing music, dancing, gardening, cooking—you can improve by studying the work of people who do it well, getting feedback on your own work, and trying new things.

I’ll be blogging on Novel Spaces again on 7 September, when I’ll talk about what spec fic writers mean by “worldbuilding” and why it's important. I look forward to seeing you again then!

—Shauna Roberts