How Much Advice?
In general, seeking more experienced counsel, especially when you are a newcomer to any arena, is a productive thing to do. When you've become the most knowledgeable person within your circle of influence, then that means its time to widen your circle, right?
While I have not yet exhausted the wisdom of my peers (I have a great critique group among whom I consider myself the least skilled) I do have an opportunity coming up to get a big batch of advice on The Sword of the Patron, and I'll admit, I'm biting my nails on this one.
In April, I'll be headed to David Farland's Novel Rewriting workshop. For those who don't know David Farland, the man is the real deal when it comes to writers who know how to take a passion and make a tidy living (at least I assume so from the information he sends out in his newsletter David Farland's Daily Kick in the Pants. If you're a writer and you don't subscribe to this newsletter, I highly recommend you get on his list. The subscribe button is on the right of the linked page.) Anyway, digressions aside, David Farland has mentored more writers than whose names I care to drop here. He's taught or worked with Stephenie Meyers, Brandon Sanderson, and a host of others.
Now, say what you will about any of these authors' works, love, hate, or otherwise, but the fact of the matter is: they sell books. Lots of books. And I believe Mr. Farland's contributions to their early careers may have something to do with that. So, my darling husband has graciously given me quite the birthday gift in buying me the opportunity to go sit at Mr. Farland's feet for a solid week and do nothing but focus on my novel. I'll get a comprehensive edit of the first 50 pages and read a through of the first 150, and my hope is that I'll come out of that week with a manuscript that can't help but catch some editor's eye.
Of course, there's also the chance that Mr. Farland will say, "You know, you really ought to stick to drawing." I have to be prepared for that. That's really the crux of my message for this post today. In the life of a creative person, lots of advice crops up, either solicited or unsolicited, good or bad. The real trick is figuring out which advice to take...when to be teachable, and when to stop being teachable, to paraphrase Jeff Gerke of Marcher Lord Press.
I like to think that whatever advice I get from Mr. Farland should be well worth listening to, though when I mentioned to a friend I was going on this excursion, he got a very concerned look on his face. "Don't let anyone compromise your message," he told me.
And that's the real trick, isn't it? Figuring out how to take the advice of people who are better/more experienced than you and then apply it to YOUR work. Your story. Without trying to make it their story. In a book I read some time ago about worship ministries called The Heart of the Artist, the author warned about taking somebody else's ministry and trying to mimic it in your own. I think that idea also applies to advice I get on writing. In the end, it has to be my book in my voice. I can't try to write like someone else and have it come out anything but forced or pale. (I'm not that good.)
My prayer for this journey I have ahead is that I will have the wisdom of Solomon when it comes to sifting through the piles of advice I will get from David Farland as well as the other eleven authors who will be taking this class with me. I have all kinds of preconceived notions about what they will tell me. What I need to manage to do is to hoard all their advice into some little storage bin in my mind so I can sort it with discernment, so what I end up with is a book that is mine, and a book that is better. Not a book that is everybody's and hence more like an oil painting where I've gone back into wet paint too much and ended up with brownish gray mush. (Done that. I'm a horrible painter.)
I'm looking forward to the adventure. But in the meantime, I'll keep gleaning all the great things I can from the folks in my immediate sphere of influence. There's always something new to learn, whether from the new reader, or the industry professional, and I pray I never lose sight of that.
While I have not yet exhausted the wisdom of my peers (I have a great critique group among whom I consider myself the least skilled) I do have an opportunity coming up to get a big batch of advice on The Sword of the Patron, and I'll admit, I'm biting my nails on this one.
In April, I'll be headed to David Farland's Novel Rewriting workshop. For those who don't know David Farland, the man is the real deal when it comes to writers who know how to take a passion and make a tidy living (at least I assume so from the information he sends out in his newsletter David Farland's Daily Kick in the Pants. If you're a writer and you don't subscribe to this newsletter, I highly recommend you get on his list. The subscribe button is on the right of the linked page.) Anyway, digressions aside, David Farland has mentored more writers than whose names I care to drop here. He's taught or worked with Stephenie Meyers, Brandon Sanderson, and a host of others.
Now, say what you will about any of these authors' works, love, hate, or otherwise, but the fact of the matter is: they sell books. Lots of books. And I believe Mr. Farland's contributions to their early careers may have something to do with that. So, my darling husband has graciously given me quite the birthday gift in buying me the opportunity to go sit at Mr. Farland's feet for a solid week and do nothing but focus on my novel. I'll get a comprehensive edit of the first 50 pages and read a through of the first 150, and my hope is that I'll come out of that week with a manuscript that can't help but catch some editor's eye.
Of course, there's also the chance that Mr. Farland will say, "You know, you really ought to stick to drawing." I have to be prepared for that. That's really the crux of my message for this post today. In the life of a creative person, lots of advice crops up, either solicited or unsolicited, good or bad. The real trick is figuring out which advice to take...when to be teachable, and when to stop being teachable, to paraphrase Jeff Gerke of Marcher Lord Press.
I like to think that whatever advice I get from Mr. Farland should be well worth listening to, though when I mentioned to a friend I was going on this excursion, he got a very concerned look on his face. "Don't let anyone compromise your message," he told me.
And that's the real trick, isn't it? Figuring out how to take the advice of people who are better/more experienced than you and then apply it to YOUR work. Your story. Without trying to make it their story. In a book I read some time ago about worship ministries called The Heart of the Artist, the author warned about taking somebody else's ministry and trying to mimic it in your own. I think that idea also applies to advice I get on writing. In the end, it has to be my book in my voice. I can't try to write like someone else and have it come out anything but forced or pale. (I'm not that good.)
My prayer for this journey I have ahead is that I will have the wisdom of Solomon when it comes to sifting through the piles of advice I will get from David Farland as well as the other eleven authors who will be taking this class with me. I have all kinds of preconceived notions about what they will tell me. What I need to manage to do is to hoard all their advice into some little storage bin in my mind so I can sort it with discernment, so what I end up with is a book that is mine, and a book that is better. Not a book that is everybody's and hence more like an oil painting where I've gone back into wet paint too much and ended up with brownish gray mush. (Done that. I'm a horrible painter.)
I'm looking forward to the adventure. But in the meantime, I'll keep gleaning all the great things I can from the folks in my immediate sphere of influence. There's always something new to learn, whether from the new reader, or the industry professional, and I pray I never lose sight of that.
I have a wonderful author friend (three books published) who told me that when you are given advice you need to take that which "corrects" but not that which "changes your style." It can be very hard to do that. It can also be hard as a writer giving critique to not impose your style on others--even very experienced authors are guilty of doing that.
ReplyDeleteCase in point--the senior editor of a successful local magazine helped me with some personal exp. stories. She made changes to one of the stories that completely altered the style. I hated it. It sounded nothing like me. But I had to admit, my original needed some tightening up. I sifted through her changes and found the ones that worked and tossed the ones that didn't. She was still a tremendous help, but her being more experienced than me did not automatically mean that everything she told me was right.
I say this because even if Mr. Farland were to say to you (which I'm sure he won't!), "Stick to drawing," it doesn't mean he'd be right about that advice. There are plenty of us who'd say he'd be *quite* wrong about it, actually.
Oh, and I have to say, I'm glad to find another artist who says she's a horrible painter. Seriously--I needed that TODAY. I love drawing, and I'm *good* at it, but my painting has always left something to be desired, and I've never really enjoyed painting. I was feeling rather pouty about that fact lately, too. So, thanks for sharing :).
And you're gonna do AWESOME!
Thanks for the encouragement, the words of wisdom, and the commiserating, Kat. :)I'm sure what you've added to what I've said will be a help to more folks than just me.
ReplyDeleteIn the meantime...we can start some kind of club...The DWCP society or something. (Draftspeople Who Can't Paint) I know exactly what you mean about wanting to be good at a medium, not having success, and then feeling like "Wait, shouldn't I be able to do this?"
I guess you'll have to settle for being a top notch writer and draw-er. ;)
Have fun Becky! Pray lots and listen to God's leading. He'll never steer you wrong (but sometimes He steers in a different direction than you were planning... the story of my life lol).
ReplyDelete