And Then She Said to Me...

I seemed to spend a lot of the last post talking about dialogue, so I thought it was worth covering specifically. If you hadn't already guessed, I love dialogue. In fact, it's only recently I've really started to consider myself a children's author rather than just another frustrated screenwriter. Not being blessed with a particularly visual imagination, I find that it's the dialogue that gets written first, not the description. Even for my new book - which is at the intensive planning stage - I keep breaking off from my synopsis to scribble choice bits of pithy speech.

I've previously poked fun at writers who don't have control of their own plot but I'm probably just as guilty with dialogue. I love the way that you can start a character off saying something and then the other characters will run with it, often to surprising ends.

When I pick up a book in a shop or critique another writer's manuscript, I'm always magnetically attracted to the dialogue. For me, it breaks down into three (totally arbitrary) categories:

• Awkward Dialogue
  Welcome to a whole world of wincing. This kind of dialogue doesn't crop up much in published books (though there's a perverse pleasure when it does) but we've all seen it and probably written it at some point.
• How to spot it
  People don't speak like anyone you've ever met or would like to meet. Sometimes they don't actually speak like humans, and you wonder if the manuscript fell out of a multi-dimensional rucksack owned by some day-tripper from Alpha Centauri. If two or more "humans" are involved in the conversation, they will either talk as if they are completely ignoring the other person, or dive headlong into the minutiae of everything they have both done since breakfast.
  
• Suitability for purpose
  Maybe if you have to write a script for Keanu Reeves, otherwise avoid.
  


• Functional Dialogue
  This encompasses a good 60 - 70 percent of the dialogue you find in books, films and TV. It does the job, moves the plot along and makes you imagine that the characters are having an actual conversation. It's never exactly exciting, but also doesn't spoil the party for anyone.
• How to spot it
  People talk like actual people, except there are less pauses, repetition and banality. Try to imagine being able to rewind your life and edit out the really dull conversation you had with that guy who works across the corridor.
  
• Suitability for purpose
  Eminently suitable, especially for a book that is primarily voice and description driven, where more baroque dialogue might prove distracting.
  


• Musical Dialogue
  I suppose this category might also be called "stylised." Musical dialogue moves beyond what people really sound like and into how they should sound. It's showy, ornate and attracts attention to itself like Lady Gaga at a PVC industry conference. Needless to say, I rather like musical dialogue.
• How to spot it
  People talk like their whole lives are one glorious verbal tennis rally, batting sentences back and forth in dizzying, occasionally breathless fashion. They will always have a perfect comeback and it will always be delivered with spot-on timing.
  
• Suitability for purpose
  Treat with care. Sometimes, one verbal musician is quite enough (this is your Sue Sylvester character, right here). However, two or more sharp talkers in one scene can be rather glorious. Like any orchestra, you need to differentiate accents and speech patterns to deliver a lush melody and not a honking mess.
  

So, those are some categories that I thought up on the way home - rule breaking is always encouraged. I'm a big, big fan of Victoria Wood - her musical dialogue is often constructed so that the characters are effectively monologuing, but their lines of speech overlap to incongruous and humorous effect, building to a crescendo of comedy. It seems chaotic, but is actually very tightly written - see Dinnerladies for glorious proof of this technique.

I will also admit to being influenced by the snappy, witty ensemble dialogue of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Frasier. Ditto The West Wing, which is dense in dialogue, political complexity and downright smartarsery.

Hell, let's all embrace smart, eloquent characters - especially if we can put them in a scene with a complete dumbass and watch them become increasingly exasperated!

Nick.

Cross-Format Thievery

A novel is not a movie. And definitely not a video game. But that doesn't mean that children's writers can't learn a few tricks from other disciplines. After all, they've been stealing techniques from us for ages.

Movies

Sorry, but I watch too many films and don't read enough books. I'm trying to redress the balance, but it takes me 2 hours to watch a movie and the best part of a week to read a book. I'll leave you with the maths...

What to steal:

• The Three Act Structure - But it's ok, because Hollywood stole this off some ancient Greek dudes in the first place.
  


• Dialogue - I wouldn't recommend the works of Roland Emmerich here, but seriously, watch a Billy Wilder film and take lots of notes.


• Action Scenes - Novel writers can learn an enormous amount from the way movie action scenes are constructed, especially in terms of dynamics, pace, cross-cutting and coherence. The French Connection is always cited as a seminal work, but also consider modern films like Heat, The Bourne Ultimatum and the animated film 9. It's interesting to look at how Paul Greengrass manages to keep the action coherent in the Bourne films even with very short shot lengths, simply by selecting very carefully what he shows. Compare that with Quantum of Solace where the action scenes are so choppy that they make almost no sense at all.
  

What not to steal:

• The Modern Trend for Omitting Opening Credits - Good luck having a book with no cover or title page.
  


• Clichés - Movies are crammed full of clichés and lazy thinking. Movie-goers love to make lists of these - both in books and on the web, and we writers can read these and know what to avoid.


• Script Meddling - Publishers might get upset by the weirdest things, but it's nothing compared to the insane amount of interference that screenwriters face on a daily basis. William Goldman's Adventures in the Screen Trade is both a great book about writing and a real eye-opener on the egotistical demands of stars and studios. And if you refuse to make their changes to the script? Well, they'll find someone else who will.

Video Games

While the standard of video games has steadily increased, the standard of writing in them has generally not. This doesn't make them any less fun to play (unless the cut scenes are super long), but it can be rather dispiriting. Of course there are exceptions, but video game producers are prone to overestimating the reaction speed of their audience while underestimating their intellect.

But (and this is a big but) most of our audience are playing video games, so we ignore them at our peril.

What to steal:

• Immersion - Moment for moment, video games are one of the most immersive activities available. They make constant, primitive demands on your brain and cause your eyeballs to go all dry and scratchy. This doesn't mean we should stuff our books full of pointless action sequences, but it does mean we should consider how best to "cut to the chase" and keep our reader mentally and emotionally engaged.
  


• Dialogue - Yeah, again. While the storyline of many video games veers between cliché and nonsense, there is some really sharp scriptwriting out there if you know where to look. Rockstar's games like Grand Theft Auto IV and Red Dead Redemption show a real focus on using witty dialogue to make the repetition of failed missions bearable. On the other hand, the Resident Evil series probably isn't your first stop here. The games themselves are great fun, but the dialogue and voice acting are cornier than being trapped in a maize maze full of zombies.


• The Importance of Failure - No-one would want to play a video game that was so easy that you never failed or became frustrated. These seemingly negative emotions are a key reason why games are so addictive, because the player gets such a massive rush when they finally overcome a problem. The arc of a book protagonist is exactly the same - we need to make sure they are knocked back enough times that their triumph feels truly earned.
  On the flipside, there are many games - even really good ones - that are much too hard and cause gamepads to be thrown through expensive TV screens. In books, too, we must make sure that things are never so grim for our characters that no-one wants to read on.

What not to steal:

• Expository Dialogue - Video game cut scenes are frequently stuffed to the gills with exposition. Booooooring!


• Pointless Quests to Pad Out the Second Act - What, you mean I have to fight my way back through that whole section I've already explored just to retrieve the enchanted toilet brush of doom?
  


• End of Level Bosses - Hmm, should my baddie mysteriously reappear on page 220 just in time to stop the hero and have a big fight?
  

So, these are a few things books can learn from movies and video games - what can they learn from books? Films and games are primarily experienced through our eyes and ears (and fingers in the case of games). Books are experienced in our minds. It's a rare film that makes us think and an even rarer video game. But books make us think by their very nature.

Ok, that's enough from me - if you can think of anything else we should/shouldn't steal, or maybe from other media (like comics), the floor is yours...

Nick.

Write to the End

When we find a good book, we read to the finish and for the finish. I believe that when we write a good book, the same should apply. I've written one book completely out of order and another completely linearly - for me, the latter method won out.

I've seen advice for blocked writers that suggests you should write scenes as they come to you, that it's ok to write the ending first and gradually fill in back to the start. Maybe this works if you are the kind of person (like my mother-in-law) who reads the last page of a book before starting it. But if you love the tension and surprise of a good plot, you can use that to drive your own writing.

A couple of months ago, I came up with the concept for a key scene close to the end of Back from the Dead. A delicious scene that turned the tables on the reader and made them complicit in the narrative in a way that they hadn't been up until that point. Naturally, I wanted to write that scene there and then, but I had most of the third act to navigate before I got there.

I researched locations and planned character arcs. I kidnapped my characters and set them free and then put them into even worse danger.

And still I couldn't write the scene.

I opened up the scope of the book with a big action sequence. I wrestled with motion and velocity, tried to express complex, fast moving activities in simple, sensory ways.

And still I couldn't write the scene.

I followed my main character as he found his family and simultaneously lost all sense of himself.

When was I going to get to write the damn scene?

Then, suddenly, I was writing it. A mere 400 words, flowing like fresh blood from an arterial wound. All that pent-up tension had powered me through the previous month, but it also gave me time to add new themes and elements to the third act that raised the drama to an even higher level. Unquestionably, it's my favourite scene in the book - before and after writing it.

So, this is all in the "works for me" category, as ever. What works for you? And is there anyone else who reads the end of a book before the start? Answers below, if you please...

Nick.

A Sin to be Original?

This might sound really weird coming from someone currently trying to sell a book about zombies, but originality is very important to me. There is nothing I hate more than the idea of going over ground that has already been scrubbed clean of insight or surprise. The trouble is that nowadays, originality seems to be in pretty short supply.

Since postmodernism came along and made it ok to basically steal what you like from someone else's work, originality has quickly been edged out by familiarity. Scared (financially and creatively) to take a chance on a new concept, the movie and TV industry prefers to "leverage their back catalogue" - in other words, remake stuff. Occasionally, this can have electrifying results (Battlestar Galactica, Christopher Nolan's Batman films, The recent Star Trek movie) but mostly it results in warmed-over trash (Knight Rider, Wonder Woman, pretty much every horror movie remake, etc.)

Due to the lower costs of entry, this isn't a problem that has affected the book industry as much, but I wonder if the creeping influence of "the series" will have much the same effect. With a lot of the revenue for children's book titles driven by merchandising, it makes business sense to consolidate as much as possible and to land-grab kids' time with familiar brands and characters. Children's book series are now planned very much like TV series, with a frequent drip-feed of product to keep consumers buying. There isn't anything particularly new or evil about this trend, but it can serve to lock children into a brand - you only have to observe an impressionable pre-school boy obsessed with Thomas the Tank Engine to see that particular phenomenon in action.

But even if you remain aloof from commercial concerns, the explosion in TV channels and the internet over the last 15 years makes originality very difficult. From YouTube to fan fiction to late-night Sci-fi movies, it seems that everyone else has had an idea before you. Perhaps there was no real novelty in fiction concepts before the internet either, but at least writers were generally insulated from the evidence. Now all it takes is one Google search to reveal the futility of your latest brilliant idea.

All of which leaves me with a whole load of old ideas spread over the living room carpet and no instruction leaflet. Can I reassemble this kit of familiar parts into a new book that somehow becomes an original work? Is it enough to just take a hackneyed genre and subvert it for my own entertainment? I'll get back to you on that...

Deep down, I have a naive yearning to be someone like Charlie Kaufman or David Lynch, free to mine my own unique personal vision in increasingly bizarre and thought-provoking ways. But then again, I think about films like Synecdoche, New York and the terrible Inland Empire and wonder if being wilfully original is always the best course.

Nick.

Surviving the Submissions Process

After a few (minor) false starts, the final draft of Back from the Dead is finished (you can tell that it's the last one, because it has the words "Final Draft" in the filename). Now, my agent has to make up a submission package, unleash it on the publishing industry and wait for the polite rejections to drop into her inbox. But how can I best fill this long period of uncertainty?

Here are a list of dos and don'ts for surviving the submissions process:

1. Do write a blog post with a list in it. Lists are short, snappy and give evidence of an ordered mind. Any editors reading such a list will be impressed.
   


2. Don't write sub-lists. These are:
   
   1. Boring.
   2. Evidence of an over-ordered mind.
   3. Suggest someone who might set fire to an editor's cat if their book is rejected.
      


3. Don't over-hype the book. Publishers are sick of receiving letters claiming that an author is the next J.K. Rowling or Lemony Snicket. Be more realistic with your comparisons, but avoid saying you are the next Kaavya Viswanathan.
   


4. Don't reveal business details about the submissions process. Statements such as "Editor X has offered me a gazillion pound deal" or "Editor Y wants to sign me up for 10 books" may prejudice the contract process. Also, avoid phrases like "I think Editor Z fancies me."
   


5. Do find a new hobby to fill the tense weeks and months while the book is out for submission. Consider embarking on writing a multi-book series about wizards or vampires, or buy a really, really big jigsaw.
   


6. Don't list every rejection you receive on your blog, along with comments about the editor and notes on their personal hygiene. A simple gift of soap or deodorant is so much more thoughtful and will ensure the editor in question remembers you when your next book comes up for submission.
   


7. Do draw a picture for the cover of your book, or ask a small child to draw one for you. A publisher's marketing department is not always the easiest place to work, and they will gain many hours of simple joy from laughing at your attempts to do their job for them.
   


8. Do be prepared to meet publishers and talk enthusiastically about your book. Do not become psychotically enraged when they suggest turning your YA werewolf novel into an early-reader series about fairies with "issues."
   

Finally, do have fun. The submissions process is not a dehumanising cattle market - it is a chance to make new friends and earn an advance that will more than cover your agent's photocopying bill.

Nick.

My Agent - Jenny Savill

I'm extremely pleased to announce that I am now represented by Jenny Savill of Andrew Nurnberg Associates. Regular readers of this blog will know that I've been working with Jenny for almost six months now, and I've had to do a lot of work on Back from the Dead to reach the sign-up point. It's a great relief to finally reveal her identity, because that she was becoming one of those characters who is often mentioned but never seen (something like Maris in Frasier) and Jenny really does exist because I've met her and everything!

Jenny's children's list comprises nine other authors, including 2008 Undiscovered Voices winners Sara Grant and Katie Dale, Helen Moss (writing the Superstar High series as Isabella Cass) and the wonderful Keren David. Oh, and now she has some bloke wot writes zombie fiction as well :-)

Jenny doesn't have a particularly high profile amongst unpublished writers - she isn't listed by name in the Writers' and Artists' Yearbook and if I mention her to another writer they will often nod blankly in a way that seems to say "Oh poor you. So Christopher Little still isn't taking your calls, then?" Mention Jenny to an editor, however, and their eyes light up like a child on Christmas Eve. And that, my friends, is what I'm talking about!

Some of my fellow authors have balked at the length of time Jenny has waited before signing me, as well as some of the complexities of our editorial process. It's true that I have been frustrated at times, but I think much of that stems from the insecurity that all unpublished writers feel in the face of a confusing and subjective industry. In actual fact, both Jenny and I have been working very hard towards selling the book during this unsigned period - me with writing and networking, her with editorial and preparing the ground for the submissions process. By working "at risk" in this way for so long, Jenny and I have become very familiar with each other's working methods and built up a huge amount of mutual trust. An agency agreement may seem like an amazing, unbreakable promise, but it can be severed in sixty days by either side. Trust is a whole lot stronger than that.

Nick.

In Praise of SCBWI

However you pronounce it (I favour "Scoobie" but I know many others lean towards "Scwibby") the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators is a wonderful organisation with a terrible acronym.

The renewal notice that dropped into my inbox the other day reminded me how very much has changed during the first year of my membership. Before May 2009, I was an unknown writer with a horror novel of dubious quality, no agent and self-esteem issues. Now, I'm an undiscovered (i.e. slightly less unknown) writer with a pretty kick-ass horror novel, no agent and ... erm ... well I'm still working on the self-esteem stuff. And maybe the agent thing will be sorted out fairly soon and ...

Who am I kidding? SCBWI has CHANGED MY LIFE. You will not meet a nicer, more welcoming or more focused bunch of people anywhere - on or off the internet. I laboured in adult writing groups for quite a few months, but the fact I was writing for children set me apart and I could never get the kind of market-led and solidly structural critique that I really needed. This is not the case since joining SCBWI - in fact I have way too many critique opportunities now, and am now struggling to keep up. Everyone seems so gracious and well-informed, and despite the time pressures I have been really pleased with the way that my own critical abilities have blossomed over the last twelve months.

Every time I walk into the children's section of a bookshop nowadays, I see books written by SCBWI members. Just yesterday in Blackwells - without particularly seeking any of them out - I saw Greek myths retold by Lucy Coats and Saviour Pirotta, The Boy Who Fell Down Exit 43 by Harriet Goodwin, Castle of Shadows by Ellen Renner and of course the marvellous Mortlock by Jon Mayhew. The idea that I know and can actually talk to people who write published children's books, that these people are in a very real way my peers - is still pretty mind-blowing.

The key thing that any writer needs is belief - it's also something that's very hard to supply on your own. Ok, sure, there are your family and friends, but you get the feeling that they would support you whether you were writing books or making a range of Patagonian llama cheeses: "Oh yes, it's very nutty - don't you think, Bernard? And you really fermented all this yourself? You could be the next J.K. Rodriguez!"
(Billionaire Patagonian cheese magnate and self-crowned King of Coagulation)

Fret no more about your Mum's leaden palate and liking for misery memoirs, and turn to the fine members of SCBWI. Just like the Ghostbusters, they're "ready to believe you." To cheer your successes and commiserate on your failures. To tell you that you're "nearly there" when your beloved manuscript is rejected for the seventh time. Because the eighth time might be the charm and if you give up now, you'll never know that. Many of the Scoobies are my very good friends and I hope many more will be my friends in the future. At the Professional Series and the Masterclasses, on Yahoo and Facebook, at the Conference, Retreat and new Pulse events, SCBWI rocks!

But always in an age-appropriate manner.

Nick.