November 2021 Newsletter

A Very Merry Half-Birthday to us!

Pumpkin Cake! circa 1953

Cake and photo by Jolene of the Time Travel Kitchen, one of my favourite discoveries here and recently a “Substack Featured Publication.”

I asked Jolene if by any chance she might have a photo of a half a cake (her newsletter photographs of her creations and her 1927 kitchen are truly art) and she suggested baking a pumpkin cake and cutting in half—just for us!

Note the thought that she put into the candles: there are the well-spent six months we’ve been working and writing together, with another six to go, burning and shining light…

I think writing and baking are a natural fit. How could they not be? After hours spent crouched over the keyboard, we need some fragrant thing wafting through the work space. And then to savour—really savour!—the flavour and texture. Artists need to keep the senses receptive!

Check out Jolene’s recipes. Create and bake something.

Celebrate that we’ve been doing The Unschool thing here for half a year!

THAT is your prompt and exercise for this month.

Share with—as in tell—us what you baked. And maybe even what you wrote to go with it. And what kind of writing day you are/were having—and the effects of one on the other…

Okay, maybe you don’t bake. But you can share with us how do you celebrate when you’ve done your writing for the day, or made the tough choice to cut a story-thread, or maybe you’ve finally tackled THAT SCENE that’s been waking you up at night. Or perhaps you’ve written a piece that made you start laughing in the process, and then all the way through. (I’ve experienced this once.)

Do you make yourself a coffee, a drink, a hot cocoa in a certain way? Do you see “creativity” as having a role in how you celebrate your writing?

Creativity cannot be relegated to just one part of our lives; the more areas it touches, the better. Creativity begets itself.

So thank you, Jolene! And Happy Half-Birthday to Unschoolers, and looking forward to many more.

Alison’s process journal

In the September newsletter, I shared some of my own process journal notes.

Occasionally, I will do this—when I think it might be useful. This past week, I was keeping a steady pace with my novel for adults when I received an early morning note from my agent. And that turned the week upside down; I’ve been putting in hours since.

In the note, she sent along comments from an editor on a YA novel of mine. Currently, this manuscript has received one or two ‘no-s’ and is still sitting on four desks.

This set of comments came from an editor who says that if I can work with her suggestions, she’d be happy to take another look.

This has happened to me many times now, and I know from experience that it is no guarantee of anything. For every acceptance that has come of such a request, I’ve had at least one turn-down. Or another request that makes it clear to me that there’s fishing involved. (Though that has been only once… so let’s call it “rare.”)

Do I? Or don’t I?

Wading into the work, I know there is no pay for this. There is only the carrot-on-stick that the editor will take another look. But that’s a juicy carrot these days, as it gets tougher to place a manuscript.

There is a series of questions I go through mentally, not necessarily in a particular order.

But here they are:

What do I know about this editor?

Is s/he known to “stick to their word,” or are they forgetful, toss words around, then forget? (Most editors have memories that are long and deep… and can recall details for decades! And that can, almost without exception, be counted on. But I have known the exception. And yes, it does hurt to spend the time, and have it count for nought.)

But is there reason to think this person has connected with your work… or are they asking you to be and do something that is not “you”? To have someone who is connecting with your work is the best—and what we want.

Before getting caught in a possible negative, consider what the manuscript might become—the directions the work might go, with the care and knowledge from a respect-worthy person.

Creating takes a mix of ego and humility. Really understanding the strengths of your work—the part that maybe should not be “messed” with—and understanding the potential for growth—this is tough.

How does this publisher stack up to the others who still have it in hand? Does that matter to me? And why? I might research the publishers—a task I usually leave to my agent. Often, though, I don’t have this type of time. I have an agent for a reason. But I’m curious to know the value—how they work with their writers, how the world sees them, what their distribution is like, and more.

Is the work going to be all-around improved? This is huge. It has implications for going forward, even if the work is not accepted by the editor who is asking for the re-write; it makes it more likely that it will be accepted by someone. And yet this is the editor who is choosing to invest time in your work—no small thing indeed.

Editors are gifts

This week, one of the first things I did was to find interviews with this editor.

And I liked what I read. I am reassured that I’m dealing with someone who is looking to bring out the best in a story—and therefore, a writer, too. She’s worked hard to be where she is, and is a writer herself—though many amazing editors do not “write.” Still, it’s good to know.

Our learning as writers, once we are out of school, or have grown past our time of “apprenticing,” happens via editors. That is how we learn and grow. (And is the weakness of self-publishing, to my mind.)

And what is she asking for?

Here’s the necessary piece, for me: to try to step back and be objective about what the editor is asking for.

In this case, she’s focused on an aspect of my style, my rather elliptical cutting of certain types of words and subjects/articles. I’m aware I do this. Indeed, I do it deliberately. And it’s easy to say, “that’s my style.”

But if my “style” means a story I’ve spent years working on will never meet the world and be shared, maybe I need to re-think. That thought comes to me.

How important is this to me? is the question I have to ask myself.

Years ago

I was asked by a top editor at a significant (US) company to write a major character out of a YA novel. And that was only part of her requests; she sent eight full pages of suggestions, that my agent at the time—since retired—passed along without comment.

I spent no less than six months on that re-write. Pulling that particular character was tough! It made the whole manuscript lose sex/gender balance, and more, and I needed to scramble to right that.

In the end, it was a different book. And I ended up taking both the pre-re-write and the re-write to a fourteen year old “ideal reader” I knew and respected. This is not a usual step for me, but I felt I needed to do this. I told her that one of the manuscripts was written for an editor. I wouldn’t tell her which.

She read, and returned them both, with the words, “I like them both” (spoken as a fourteen year old). “But I don’t know why you got rid of the Uncle Early character—I really liked him!” she added, and talked about why.

After six months of work, she confirmed what I already knew. Although now I also knew all the reasons why I had that character in my story, as well as a whole host of other pieces about “my” story. It’s amazing how and what you can learn about the story you are creating. And the “why”—as I age, especially the “why” fascinates me. It’s the piece that readers don’t really see, but maybe it’s why we write. (That is the point I’m at with the adult novel, and why I was loathe to step back from it for this re-write now at hand. But I will return to it.)

I learned from that six month process that sometimes I need to put in the work to understand fully why or even why not something does not work.

(Added note: when I shared my decision with my agent, she exploded about her real and hitherto hidden feelings/thoughts on that eight page letter of editorial “suggestions”… little did I know! But she was a pro in not letting her feelings show, until I had made up my own mind, and done my own work.)

Give it the Try!

I’m a fan of this approach. I set aside both ego and humility, and just get open. No one has to see my fumbling. (We have an art form that we can practice privately until we’re ready for otherwise!)

I take the work at hand and explore what the editor is saying and suggesting. Even a couple of chapters will often be enough to get a feel, see if it’s a fit, if it reaches out to me, pulls me in. If it makes sense. Often this also means writing and then letting it sit a few days—or longer—to find some objective state.

As a student-writer in workshop, I often found myself resisting some of the more challenging or in-my-face and up-my-nose comments.

And I’d walk away struggling with those. And not the least question brought about by those moments was, “WHY is this bothering me so much?” Sometimes it has little to do with writing. Or with the story at hand. But has to do with the ego thing, or the sense that ‘no one understands me.’

Often an editor’s task is to bring you on board to help build the bridge to the reader—a bridge that clears away misunderstanding, a bridge that has two openings, two ends, two paths to walk in, both for writer and reader.

It can be that simple.

And so the last week, I’ve been nose-to-grindstone with a re-write. I hope to be able to update you on this in the next month or two. Stay tuned…

In the comments, share such experiences you have had, or any questions.

October posts - summaries

The October Newsletter had some gems in it that I hope you did not miss. I try to be mindful of just how long The Unschool posts are—I suspect we’re all a bit short of reading time, and I know I can’t read lengthy pieces myself. By the time I’m finished writing for the day, and reading some fiction, there’s not much time left. But the Q&A with Cristy Watson, about her approach to the 3 Day Novel was excellent, and the piece from Laura Nicol, on how she found an agent, is really useful. And inspiring! So take a look if you missed, and share with a writer-friend.

The follow-up to the newsletter “prompt/exercise” thread produced a number of posts, followed by thoughtful feedback—this was good to see! The challenge was to create setting, and evoke an unnamed emotion in the creating.

These prompt and exercise threads are always “open” for you to add to. Look in the Index to locate the threads, and add your pieces and offer feedback. This is on-going DIY MFA stuff for you to take advantage of, and open to all subscribers, even months later.

I introduced the first Close Reading piece; this will be the beginning of another series, this one of scrutinizing a passage from published work. There is so much to be learned from reading strong work. I looked at a passage from Mary Lawson’s work, and how she evokes the emotional over the sentimental.

A couple of October posts looked at the “writer’s life,” including the key piece of being grateful. Every day, in spite of the challenges of artist’s life, I feel very blessed, and this balances the toughter stuff.

Another piece looked at how we can support other writers in our lives—attending book launches, buying their books, helping to promote, and more.

The grammar/punctuation piece looked at apostrophes, and the possible points of confusion those little squiggles can bring.

Ghost Pages took a look at all those pages we write when creating… and then have to toss. We can feel badly about that, or recognize their lasting contribution.

And of course, our Autumn Mini-course in Holiday Writing, which is ongoing, and will continue until mid-December. Here is the intro piece, that looks at what it’s all about, including notes on how to take part in a workshop. Next, a piece on prompts to get you thinking about possible story ideas, as well as a piece on forms and genres to explore—with thoughts on the differences between memoir and fiction. The “prompts” piece is something you might want to re-visit not only as the course continues, but later, to provoke story ideas.

Connected to the mini-course, but posted as part of the ongoing “Foundational” series, was a piece about the role of short fiction in the writing apprenticeship. As we will be writing and reading a lot of short fiction for the course, this seemed timely.

A note about the Holiday Writing course

So far we’ve had one submission, and are in the process of posting feedback! We are only a couple weeks in, so I expect more to be showing up shortly. The “opener” piece is a great read, and no “Hallmark” stuff, but real life at “holiday” time.

It is NOT too late to join, to write and post, and read others’ works. We have until well into December to go. Note that it is for paid members only. While I am grateful for all subscribers, the paid folks are those who allow The Unschool to continue, and offering the course is one of the ways I can say “thank you!” If you are not already fully subscribed, I ask that you consider.

Any questions or thoughts about what you’d like to see the second half year?

Don’t hesitate to send me a note. Any pieces that fit with any of the on-going series: Foundational; Business side of things; Close Readings; Book Reviews; Grammar/Punctuation… or more on a particular genre or form? fiction? memoir? writing for children or young people… or… Let me know. I’m always curious to hear about where you’re at and what your questions are.

Email me at: alison@alisonacheson.com

Looking forward to reading your “holiday” pieces, and to explore the rest of this first year. Thank you for being here —

Alison