I've been getting a lot of questions focused on pacing lately, so I thought I'd share my article on it in the blog forum... It addresses the questions asked, and more. Hope it helps!
PACING
©2000-2008, Vicki Hinze
For a moment, let's pretend that the words we write on the page are sounds. If all the sounds are the same, then we have monotone. Monotone puts us to sleep, bores us to tears, turns us off--and if it goes on for any length of time--ticks us off.
We can't get emotionally involved with monotone because every single word
holds equal emphasis to every other single word. No sentence, paragraph, scene, or chapter bears more weight or is more intense than any other sentence, paragraph, scene, or chapter. The result is that the work is flat, dull, and boring. When writing it, we aren't actively engaged or enthused; we're writing on autopilot. That means when the reader reads, they're not going to be actively engaged or enthused, and they'll be reading it on autopilot. The reader can't get out of a book what the author doesn't put into the book. It's that simple. Autopilot translates to catching zzzs, snoozing.
Why? Because nothing is different. Nothing grabs us, insisting that we pay
attention and get involved. Nothing commands us, dares us to look away, or challenges us to keep reading to see what happens.
Our book is a victim of lousy pacing.
Words on a page don't create audible sounds, but they do create rhythms, and
those rhythms are active in the reader's mind. This is why the writer must learn to effectively manipulate the story's pacing--so that we writers invite and encourage and allow the reader to get emotionally involved in the story.
Every novel has a natural rhythm. A sweeping saga set in the South might be
slow and easy. But there will be times during the course of the novel that the pacing must speed up and move like the wind. Otherwise, the reader is going to become anesthetized and doze through the book. We don't want that. So let's begin at the beginning and learn how to prevent it.
First, let's talk about what pacing is.
Pacing is the rhythm of the novel, of the chapters and scenes and paragraphs
and sentences. It's also the rate at which the reader reads, the speed at which novel events occur and unfold. It's using specific word choices and sentence structure--scene, chapter, and novel structure--to tap the emotions of the reader so that the reader feels what the writer wants the reader to feel at any given time during the story.
In the movie, The American President, the female protagonist meets with a senator for dinner. It is her job to get his vote on a fuel fossil bill her employer wants passed. The senator comments that, if she's successful, she'll success herself right out of a job. She shoots back with a swift, "On election day, the voters think what I tell them to think. That's why I have a job."
In essence, that's the writer's perspective on pacing. You work the words,
the scenes, the chapters, until the reader thinks and feels what you want them to think and feel about events occurring in the novel.
Now, just as a novel's rhythm can't be monotone, neither can a chapter, nor a
scene, nor sentences within a scene. Take a look at the structure in one short paragraph:
Subject/predicate. Subject/predicate. Subject/predicate.
Reminds us a little of the drone of a jungle drum, doesn't it? No variance
in the rhythm whatsoever. How long do you think it would take a reader to hear that drone before going on autopilot? Not long. But make a slight variation:
Subject/predicate. Predicate/subject. Subject/predicate.
Now, you've got a different rhythm going. The drone disappears. The reader
might not consciously note the change of rhythm, but it won't subconsciously put him to sleep.
In manipulating the pacing, there are times when the writer wants to slow
things down or to speed them up. But when do you do which?
Let's start with slowing down the pacing.
SLOW THE PACING:
* When you want to place emphasis on something. For example, in a book I just finished, the protagonist makes her Uncle Lou's spaghetti sauce whenever she's upset. When this is introduced, I slow the pacing down by showing her actually making the sauce and by adding details. Spices, the smell of the sweet basil, that she bakes the meatballs before putting them into the sauce.
The reader senses that the protagonist making this sauce is important due to the treatment (attention) given it. The hero senses it, too. He realizes that, contrary to his belief that she's calm and unaffected by events, she needs comfort. Her Uncle Lou's sauce is her comfort food. (Knowing this--that she needs comfort—relieves and comforts the hero, helping to alleviate some of his doubts about her.)
Later in the book, when the protagonist says she's going to the kitchen, the hero intuits that she's upset and asks, "To make Uncle Lou's sauce?" When she says yes, the hero and the reader knows this is significant--a bond of trust in the admission.
And later still in the book, in keeping with the Rule of Three, the heroine and hero make Uncle Lou's sauce for a child who has been traumatized and needs comfort.
The emphasis given the act of making the sauce initially cues the reader that this event is significant. The later scenes don't require that reinforcement, only the mention, because both the characters and the reader is aware and attuned to the significance. By layering in details, you lend emphasis and significance to a novel incident. You also slow the pacing.
* After a dramatic, active scene. A reader can't sustain intense emotion indefinitely. No human being can. To feel intensely, we also have to not feel intensely. It's the old "you don't know you're on a hill unless you've trudged through the valley" phenomenon.
Likewise, if the writer keeps the suspense taut for too long at a time, then the reader gets worn out. Emotionally, her natural defense mechanisms engage and she shuts down. It's important for the writer to understand that when those defense mechanisms engage, they act like a safety shield, giving the reader a safe haven in which to recover. Hidden behind that shield, the reader no longer feels immediacy or intensity. She no longer feels anything.
Give your reader those moments of spiked intensity. But also give her a chance to catch her breath. We need hills and valleys, and you control which is which in your pacing.
* When you want to expand the emotional impact.
A good example of a time when a writer wants to expand the emotional impact is in a romance novel during a love scene. Here, the writer wants to slow the pacing down, to be generous with descriptive writing.
Another example is in extremely intense situations.
Have you ever been in a car accident? The moment arrives when you know you're about to be hit. Time slows down. Seconds seem hours long. You wait, and wait, and wait, and finally . . . impact.
Now, the moments before the actual crash are no longer or shorter than any other moment, and yet they seem to go on forever. The reason why is because you are so intently focused on waiting for the impact.
Conversely, during these intense moments, you can't think. I mention this because I'm still getting contest entries to judge where the character is in the middle of a crisis and pauses to think back to some event that occurred years ago. Human beings, just don't do that. When in crisis, the crisis consumes our thoughts. That's what we focus on. Rarely does any human being think deep thoughts in the middle of a crisis.
But we do note specific, concrete details that seem larger than life. Let’s use the car accident to illustrate. We know we can't escape being hit. During the wait, we might slam on the brakes and note the tires squealing. We might note smoke churning from them. We might smell the tires burning rubber. But we don't think about someone else's accident that occurred ten years ago.
I want to remark that I disagree with the next "slow down the pacing when" concept, and I'll deviate to explain why. But in researching for this, I did come across this recommendation by several different experts, so I'm including it.
* When you want to shift time, distance, or space.
Authors Robie Macauley and George Lanning say that writers function under "special laws of relativity" which allow them to make shifts in time and space. Writers can "condense, compress, or expand" time and space to best suit the needs of their stories. They can also use these special laws to determine what emphasis they place on specific scenes within the story, or specific incidents within the scenes.
It's said that if, in the story, a writer intends to:
1. Reveal dominate character traits
2. Heighten the dramatic impact of a scene
3. Introduce events that are pivotal (either in character or motivation)
then those scenes should be "shown" versus "told." What isn't essential to "show" the reader, the writer can incorporate into the novel in the form of lively narrative.
Narrative slows the pacing.
Now actively showing an event doesn't mean the writer should show every action in every active scene. To do so would be like using "real" conversation versus dialogue. Much of real conversation is inane and unessential to moving the plot forward, so writers edit it out. Same holds true for "every action" writing in active scenes. The writer must, through craft skills and instincts, select which actions and details are significant to the story--to establish tone, setting; plant symbolic articles--and to show them. Insignificant actions, edit out.
For every rule there is an exception, so I state no rules. But I do state this suggestion, which opposes the concept of slowing the pacing when shifting time, distance, or space: When you encounter mundane stretches of time or distance, use a transition to move past them quickly. If nothing important to the story happens during these times or travels, why show it?
Why give novel space to something that misleads the reader into thinking this information is important?
Result? The reader remembers the character driving from Point A to Point B. Nothing happened during that drive, but it must be significant or it wouldn't have been there. So the reader reads on, waiting for the significance to become apparent. But it never does. The reader thinks the writer forgot to tie up that loose thread. Or, s/he might not specifically pinpoint the reason, but feels a dissatisfaction with the book. This is why I disagree with slowing the pacing during shifts. Transition, and then move on.
There has to be a balance between narrative and active scenes in the novel.
Too much narrative and the pacing drags. Too little and the active scenes lose authority because an abundance of inconsequential details are included and the reader gets mired in them.
How much of each—narrative and active scenes—should go into the novel depends on the individual book. What balance might be right for a mystery won't be right for a saga, a romance, a thriller. Even within genre, the novel's natural rhythm and pacing must be respected. Some stories demand that they unfold at breakneck speed. Others require a slower disclosure.
The novel itself dictates.
Regardless, within the novel, it is the writer's job to vary the pacing, placing emphasis on that which is of consequence to the characters, the story, and the reader.
* Flashbacks slow down the pacing. Actually, flashbacks bring the forward momentum of the novel to a dead halt. The reason why is, we transition from the present into the past, and the present then ceases to exist until we return to it.
Flashbacks carry danger. The writer runs the risks of:
+ The flashback lasting too long
+ The flashback breaking the forward momentum of the present plot for such a time that the reader can't reconnect to it
+ The flashback’s past story becoming more interesting to the reader than the present story.
Often writers include flashbacks that do nothing to enhance or reinforce the present story. Obviously, those flashbacks are useless and should be cut during editing. Any flashback allowed to remain in the novel should fit the present story like glove to hand, adding some insight, something significant.
What are some techniques for slowing down the pacing?
Use long, flowing sentences, soft-sounding verbs, descriptions that are steeped in sensory input and rich in texture and sound. This evokes an appropriate emotional response in the reader. One of quiet, calm, serenity—great for those resting times in sequels!
Layering details, one upon the other, places emphasis on what is being described and slows down the pacing.
Long blocks of narrative or description—even those engagingly written with positively sparkling prose—slow down the pacing. Personally, I advise against long blocks of narrative. They aren't visually appealing to the reader, and they stop the forward movement of the plot.
Instead, break that long block into small chunks of two or three sentences each. Then insert those chunks at points in the story when the reader needs the information contained in the chunk in order for what is happening in the novel at that time to make sense. By the time the reader notes the forward movement has stopped (at the insert of the two-or-three-sentence chunks), she's read them and the plot is moving forward again. Not so with long, uninterrupted blocks of narrative.
SPEED UP THE PACING
* Dialogue speeds up the pacing. It gives the illusion of action, and that illusion moves the reader forward more quickly than does narrative.
* Lean writing. The lack of embellishment (adjectives, adverbs) causes the reading speed to increase, which moves the story along at a good clip.
* When writing dramatic or action-packed scenes. In dramatic situations, or intently active ones, the pacing must be brisk to help carry the right emotional impact. Here, long sentences or paragraphs won’t work. They’ll bog down the action, negate any compelling sensation from the drama you’re trying to build, and destroy compatibility between the tone conveyed and the one you intended to convey--all of which weaken the potency of the work.
What are some Techniques for speeding up the pacing?
Speed up the pacing by using short paragraphs. Spare sentences; no wasted words.
Use crisp, sharp verbs that sound hard. Think, short and punchy.
Use sentence fragments. The reader reads fragments faster. That imparts a sense of urgency the reader senses at gut-level, which evokes an emotional response—a quickening pulse, a worried gasp, a shiver.
Pacing can be manipulated and it should be--to best serve the story. If you looked at the story’s pacing on a graph, it would resemble an askew EKG. The rhythms wouldn’t be uniform. But there would be definite rhythms.
As a story progresses, the intensity should grow stronger. The obstacles become more difficult, the setbacks and consequences of the characters failure to fulfill their novel goals are harder to overcome.
This constantly growing "intensity" is why so often you’ll see books published where the early chapters are longer and more dense, and later chapters are shorter and more dramatic.
As the characters/readers move through the novel, they pitch and roll. Take two steps forward, and one back. Climb a little higher, and then stumble again. And on each successive attempt, it’s harder to climb and they meet with more resistance—inside and out (internal and external conflicts). But they keep going and, at the moment when it seems they (which has become "we" because the author has succeeded in accomplishing reader identification by using our emotions and we now feel "we" are the characters) can’t succeed—we’re body-slammed—and then the unthinkable happens. We find the key to the forgotten door that was foreshadowed earlier in the novel. We use the key, and struggle . . . and struggle . . . and, finally, we taste success.
A writer relies on skill to develop the right pacing for each individual project. But also relies on instinct. On the author’s inner ear that tests the rhythm to make sure the flow has the right sound and intuitive feel.
At times, instinct and learned skills will be at odds. Go with your instincts.
There isn’t a writing rule that hasn’t been successfully broken. The trick is in knowing them, and knowing when to break them. Knowing when to shift and speed up or slow down your novel’s pacing.*
FYI NOTE: Earlier, I mentioned Uncle Lou's spaghetti sauce in All Due Respect and the significance of it to the heroine's character and referenced "The Rule of Three." If you’re not familiar with this rule and would like to be, there’s an article on it in my website Library (www.vickihinze.com).
Tags: pacing, authors, novelists, writing craft, writers, writer's library, writer's blogs, thriller novelists, story structure, romance writer, psychic distance, novel elements, novels
Showing posts with label romance writer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance writer. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
INTERNATIONAL THRILLER WRITERS ANNOUNCE AWARD FINALISTS
The list is out! My most sincere congratulations to all of the Finalists, and my gratitude to the Judges!
To see the Finalists and read the press release, click HERE.
Blessings,
Vicki
Vicki Hinze
www.vickihnze.com
Blog: My Kitchen Table
Blog: Faith Zone
Writers' Library
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
CONFLICT

What follows is a handout from a workshop on CONFLICT (©2008, Vicki Hinze) from this past weekend at the Emerald Coast Writers Conference.
It’s lengthy so I’m linking to it. It’s in pdf format, so it shouldn’t be a problem for anyone, but if it is, then contact me, and I’ll get it to you in a format that works for you.
If you click on the photo above (on the www.vickihinze.com website blog), the entire article should open in your browser.
If you click on Conflict in the My Kitchen Table widget (see right), you’ll get the article:
Or you can download it. The link for that is Conflict.pdf.
Blessings,
Vicki
WORKSHOP
EMERALD COAST WRITERS
Sunday, March 16, 2008
THE PITCH
Pitching your novel to an editor or agent causes many writers anxiety. Here are a few tips that will hopefully squelch that!
Remember: No matter how much an editor loves your book, s/he can’t buy what s/he can’t sell. So when you pitch...
1. Know what you’re selling and that it is a project that this editor/agent buys and markets.
2. Quickly relate the project type, status, word length. (i.e. TITLE is a complete 90,000 word thriller.) Now the editor knows where it fits on the publishing list and that it’s ready to market. (Think where would I find this book in bookstores?)
3.Create a short overview of the book, focusing on character and conflict incorporating the setting. (You’ve already set the tone by telling the type of book, but use mood words here that are consistent with novel tone. (Think very short back cover copy on a novel.)
4.Be flexible. The agent or publisher knows what sells for him/her. If revising ups your odds of selling, and you want to sell, revise.
5.Be confident, and certain you’re pitching your best!
6.Be professional. Being gracious is always an asset.
Good luck!
Blessings,
Vicki
Vicki Hinze
©2008
www.vickihinze.com
P.S. A note to my regular readers. I’m now writing three blogs. This one will focus on writing craft and life. Vicki Hinze on Writing will focus on the art of writing and creativity. Faith Zone focuses on my spiritual journey. You can find out more on this on the welcome (home), news pages and in the Reader’s Corner. Xtra Blessings to you all! Vicki
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Character: Feature Article/Newsletter
Monday, October 08, 2007
IT'S ALL IN A DAY'S WORK...
WARNING: This is a no-edit zone...
Every writer goes through periods of it, and I’m neck-deep in one such period now. That is, periods where the professional To-Do list is several pages long and for every item that finally gets ticked off, two more go on--and one of the additions is typically needed ASAP. What that means down at the bottom line is that it’s a struggle during such times to get to the actual writing.
If someone came to me with this challenge, I’d tell them to prioritize. To put the actual writing first and let everything else follow when the writing goal for the day had been met. But in this situation, my advice wouldn’t work. Why? Because I’m in the middle of launching three major projects at once and chairing a contest committee that requires constant monitoring.
Now, I can hear you say that it’s my own fault--that I should have properly planned and then I wouldn’t have three major projects launching at once, and ordinarily I’d agree with you. But in this case, two of the three major projects fell into my lap and were terrific opportunities. I had to make a choice: seize them or forget them. I chose to seize.
So what’s my point?
Sometimes things happen that aren’t bad but good things. And we have to work through the discomforts they cause to reap the benefits. While we’re going through them, it’s not a lot of fun and we do grow weary. (No doubt my darling husband would describe that “weary” a little differently; with far more colorful a description.) But if we stay focused and remember that these seeds we’re planting will enjoy a harvest, and then we’ll be glad we endured the discomfort during its season.
So I’m enduring discomfort, sleeping less, putting a lot of extra time in the office and looking forward to harvest time. Seriously looking forward to it--and to the reunion with my characters and stories. And I’m seriously working at keeping a constructive mindset and positive attitude.
Because the simple truth is that when you write for a living, you do get to do less writing. You have to share your time with all the other writing-related endeavors that go with it. And there are more of those endeavors all the time.
Writers love the writing. But not many love the related endeavors. If there’s any advice for someone new to this, it would be to find a way to love the related endeavors. Because they’re a large part of the big picture, you’ll be doing a lot of them, and it’s all in a day’s work.
Blessings,
Vicki
I need a clone.
I’m missing the days of being a writer who writes!
When do writers have time to write?
Attitude is everything!
Every writer goes through periods of it, and I’m neck-deep in one such period now. That is, periods where the professional To-Do list is several pages long and for every item that finally gets ticked off, two more go on--and one of the additions is typically needed ASAP. What that means down at the bottom line is that it’s a struggle during such times to get to the actual writing.
If someone came to me with this challenge, I’d tell them to prioritize. To put the actual writing first and let everything else follow when the writing goal for the day had been met. But in this situation, my advice wouldn’t work. Why? Because I’m in the middle of launching three major projects at once and chairing a contest committee that requires constant monitoring.
Now, I can hear you say that it’s my own fault--that I should have properly planned and then I wouldn’t have three major projects launching at once, and ordinarily I’d agree with you. But in this case, two of the three major projects fell into my lap and were terrific opportunities. I had to make a choice: seize them or forget them. I chose to seize.
So what’s my point?
Sometimes things happen that aren’t bad but good things. And we have to work through the discomforts they cause to reap the benefits. While we’re going through them, it’s not a lot of fun and we do grow weary. (No doubt my darling husband would describe that “weary” a little differently; with far more colorful a description.) But if we stay focused and remember that these seeds we’re planting will enjoy a harvest, and then we’ll be glad we endured the discomfort during its season.
So I’m enduring discomfort, sleeping less, putting a lot of extra time in the office and looking forward to harvest time. Seriously looking forward to it--and to the reunion with my characters and stories. And I’m seriously working at keeping a constructive mindset and positive attitude.
Because the simple truth is that when you write for a living, you do get to do less writing. You have to share your time with all the other writing-related endeavors that go with it. And there are more of those endeavors all the time.
Writers love the writing. But not many love the related endeavors. If there’s any advice for someone new to this, it would be to find a way to love the related endeavors. Because they’re a large part of the big picture, you’ll be doing a lot of them, and it’s all in a day’s work.
Blessings,
Vicki
I need a clone.
I’m missing the days of being a writer who writes!
When do writers have time to write?
Attitude is everything!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN...
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
EMAIL CHAIN LETTERS
Email Chain Letters
We all get nine gazillion of them--those email chain letters that promise bad luck, bad tidings, financial crashes and everything you can think of--and we moan and groan and decide to delete them but then we get that tiny niggle of a doubt that maybe we will have bad luck and crash and burn and so we’re torn--and resentful--and then must decide whether or not to fall for it, knowing we shouldn’t.
This morning a friend sent a soap-box response. Bless her. It’s an email chain letter worth passing on...
http://info.org.il/irrelevant/may02-smilepop-soapbox4.swf
Blessings,
Vicki
Friday, July 20, 2007
YES! SUCCESS!: Part 1: WHAT DO WE WANT?
Today I’m starting a new series, Yes! Success! And I hope that whether or not you’re a writer, you’ll gain something of benefit from the posts. The ideology and methods are universal to whatever career you’ve chosen or whatever path you’ve decided to embrace and walk.
Yes! Success!: PART 1: WHAT DO WE WANT?
We all want something. It might be fame, fortune, validation of worth or to be assured that we’re not just taking up space but living. And at some point, we all realize that our entire lives last but a blink, that our great-grandchildren won’t know much about us or be aware of our struggles and accomplishments--in a few generations, we’ll be forgotten, and that inspires us with the desire to leave an immortal mark.
Many writers console themselves with the fact that they’ll leave behind their books. They will speak for us. They will let those who come after us know who we were, what mattered to us, how we thought and what we thought about. But while we are in our books, we are not our books, and so a time comes when we realize that this might or might not be the immortal mark we sought.
And that leads us to ask a defining question: What is success?
For some writers, it’s making the New York Times list. Earning a lot of money, having a lot of adoring fans, long lines in front of you at book-signings. It’s being treated with deference and respect by your publisher, your editor, your agent, your publicist, your writing peers, your fans, your family, strangers on the street.
For other writers, it’s selling your books consistently so that you have a stable income and can help out with the family financial responsibilities. Fame and fortune and adoration aren’t your cup of tea. Paying your bills is because it enables you to be at home, caring for your family.
For still other writers, success is hearing from one reader that something they wrote impacted that reader. Helped them through a hard time. Opened a window or door in the reader’s mind so that s/he saw something a little differently, understood something that before then s/he hadn’t understood.
For other writers, success is experienced not through the books written, or the sales, or the adoration of others, or even the recognition that the writer wrote. Success is in knowing that the writer made a difference in one other writer’s life.
And for still other writers, success has nothing to do bestseller lists, or publishing, or fans or other people. Success has everything to do with writing a book. With gathering ideas and thoughts and having the wherewithal and the discipline to sit down and to keep sitting down and sticking with it, start to finish, until s/he can write “The End.”
Many of us buy into other’s visions of success without ever exploring our own. We don’t stop, drop the images of others’ definitions and think and assess and determine for ourselves our own definitions.
And that makes achieving success impossible. We will never be content nor satisfied nor fulfilled living someone else’s vision. We need--and deserve--our own.
There is no right or wrong definition, only different ones. Each is valid. Each is worthy. Each is significant.
The human being in us is often too concerned with what others think. How they’ll react. How they will treat us. What they will say--in front of us and behind our backs. But when we focus on these things, we’re assigning our personal power, our innermost selves to someone else. To someone who can and will do nothing to carve our immortal mark; they’re busy creating their own.
So while others might judge and find us lacking. Might advise us based on their definitions and not ours. We must not relinquish that personal power. They have their own. This power is ours. In it we discover and determine what we want. And holding fast to it, we ask, How do I define success?
And then, if we’re wise, we listen...
Blessings,
Vicki
©2007, Vicki Hinze
Yes! Success! PART 1:
WHAT DO WE WANT?
Friday, July 20, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
CONFERENCE: GOOD NEWS
We often hear about everything going wrong. Far less often, we hear what’s going right.
So I thought I’d share a few “good news” tidbits picked up at the conference, and ask all of you who attended to email me the good news you picked up there. When it comes in, I’ll compile it, and post it.
Maybe it’ll help off-set the post-conference blahs and help us feel better about spending gorgeous summer days indoors at our desks. :)
Good News. According to the book buyers for some of the major chains, independents, and several book distributors, the genre is experiencing growth. Also, used book sales, which are growing (thanks to the Internet) are not believed to be causing a decrease in sales--they’re up!
Good News. Historical novels are on the rise.
Good News. Borders is increasing its shelf space for the genre.
What good news did you hear at the conference?
If you’d like to share it, please email it to me at Aids4Writers@aol.com.
Blessings,
Vicki
Saturday, July 14, 2007
YOU HAVE ENTERED A BACKUP ZONE...
You’ve written 250 pages of a 350 page book and something happens.
Your hard drive is highjacked or infested with a virus/worm.
Your hard drive crashes.
You think, no problem, I have a backup copy. But it won’t open, and when you finally do it get open, it’s gobbledy-goop corrupted.
Your jump drive fails. (This happens when you’re creating on a laptop and the battery runs low, and it’s lost. You get gobbledy-goop and can’t retrieve the work.)
Your tape backup fails. (This happened to me twice, which is why I no longer have a tape backup.)
Your disk is corrupted. (This has happened to everyone who uses a lot of them at some time or another.)
The worse case I’ve ever experienced was a few years ago. My hard drive (on a PC less than a month old) crashed. The backup failed. The backup disk was in the same mess as the backup: unreadable.
I lost everything on the computer and had to have a new hard drive installed.
I had run a hard copy of the current manuscript and used a scanner to put it back in. It took three days to scan and correct the errors (I think I could have typed it quicker.) Anyway, I faithfully backed up every day:
To the file.
To a 2nd file dated that day.
To a disk.
I alternated between two disks so that either would be at most a day out from current.
Six weeks later, while still working on this same book, the new hard drive crashed. I lost everything. Again.
Fortunately, I had emailed a copy of the manuscript to a reader for review. She kindly emailed a copy back to me or I’d have had to reenter it again or have it done.
I learned a lesson. Multiple copies are warranted. Ones on your computer and off it.
I created a new procedure for myself and learned of several others’ procedures after they’d lost work.
New Procedure:
1. Save the current file.
2. Save a dated copy of the current file.
3. Email a copy of the current file to myself.
4. Plant a copy of the current file in a private folder on the web.
5. Upload the file to a private group at Yahoo.
It sounds like a lot of repetitive effort, I know. But it is not nearly so much effort as rewriting a book or spending time frustrated at trying to open a corrupt file, jump drive, or disk. Or trying to recover from a hard drive corruption or crash.
Been there, done that--several times. Creating multiple backups in various places is much more constructive--and on more than one occasion, it’s saved my hide.
Blessings,
Vicki
©2007, Vicki Hinze
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
VOICE: BREAK-THROUGH

I’ve been dividing my time, working on a lot of different projects lately. One project is a supernatural fantasy series. One is a suspense. One is an unrelated, quirky suspense series. One is a quirky romantic suspense. And one is a nonfiction spiritual book.
All of the fiction has common elements that are inherent to my work: suspense, a little mystery, a little romance. The tone changes to best suit the story. The voice remains the same.
It does in the nonfiction, too.
Which makes one think it’d be glaringly apparent that voice is our unique trait that we bring to the table in our writing. But that isn’t always so apparent to us. (Think can’t see the forest for the trees here.)
But voice is voice, and unless we write the way we talk--versus the way we think (before the censors kick in)--our voice comes through in the work whether or not we realize it.
This is significant to writers. Voice is the singular thing that separates us from every other writer and makes it impossible for anyone else to tell our exact same story. We make a lot of choices in writing. What goes in, what stays out, what motivates people to do what they do, the way they do it, when and how they do it. Voice is our salable commodity.
So our voice must be protected. We can’t allow others--including those very well-meaning and trying to help us--edit our voice out of our work. I see this happen a lot, especially with newer writers who haven’t yet found their writing feet.
But even experienced writers can be nipped by that trap. And even more dangerous to them, so far as being successful at selling what they write, they can fall victim to not matching their voice to what they’re writing.
This truth didn’t become glaringly apparent to me in my own work. I first noticed it by reading others’ work. Actually, I think I was judging a writing competition when it slapped me up side the head and said, “Notice this!”
But once I had noticed, it was easy to see the value of matching voice and content. Some of us drift naturally to it. Some don’t. Some haven’t yet discovered what is natural to them.
A writer has muscles in voice that s/he can flex. This is what enables some to write in several genres successfully. Or many eras of time and still sound true to each of them.
I write in many genres and voices. I have writer friends whose range starts at Young Adult novels and extends through suspense, through Chick Lit and into paranormal realms. This isn’t uncommon, particularly for writers who have been writing a while and have exercised those muscles so that they better control them.
Yet if you look at those writers’ bodies of work, you’ll notice that common threads exist. In my work, those threads are: suspense, mystery and romance. And you’ll notice that regardless of genre, the way I structure a novel remains constant. Not the story or the characters or setting but the bones--the structure.
So while the voice muscles stretch or contract and loom large or soft, the voice is intact.
The reason is I’ve overcome the censor and write the way I think. Bare-bones honest. Which means I can write in a way that comes natural to me and shift the focus (from suspense to mystery or to romance) to determine genre and tone.
And all of this is a means to make myself understood when I say that writers get into trouble is when they don’t write naturally, matching their voice to the targeted genre.
Often writers do gravitate toward writing books like those they enjoy reading. Often writers do gravitate toward writing books that are in harmony with their author theme (like I do with healing books. In all of them, regardless of genre, people heal.) And often writers gravitate toward writing their books in the manner other successful books in that genre have been written.
That’s all good. But if the writer does all that deliberately and makes sure that the voice in the novel matches the genre, then s/he has added additional tools to the writing arsenal.
As a writer, you don’t want to be exactly like another writer. You want to be unique because the world already has that other writer. It doesn’t have you. That said, you want your marketable commodity, your voice, to accurately reflect the work in its best light.
You can have a great book, but if you manipulate your voice to women’s fiction, then your content shouldn’t read like horror. Your content should read like women’s fiction. Or your voice should be manipulated to horror. The two should match.
I reviewed a short passage of work for a friend this morning, and this gem was crystal clear in it. A wonderful literary voice. Magical literary voice. But the content wasn’t literary. Such a shame. The piece was good. But if the content had matched the voice, it would have been great.
Reminders to us all to break-through!
Blessings,
Vicki
©2007, Vicki Hinze
Monday, July 09, 2007
KATHLEEN WOODIWISS
Yesterday Kathleen Woodiwiss died from cancer.
As well as others, a large number of writers, particularly romance writers, are mourning her passing.
It is because of the trail Kathleen blazed that many writers are writing what they’re writing today. She launched a new genre in publishing with THE FLAME AND THE FLOWER, and went on to write many other notable books.
My favorite of hers is A ROSE IN WINTER.
During the course of her career, Kathleen was generous with her help and her advice. She was warm and welcoming and always gracious.
Kathleen opened doors and windows for many others, and now she sleeps.
I pray, peacefully, with the satisfaction of a job well done and a life well lived.
Blessings,
Vicki
©2007, Vicki Hinze
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