My name is Sharon and...
Saturday, November 8th, 2008 11:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rolanniI'm a professional writer.
That means that I Do It for Money.
It also means that when I have committed to write a story, I bring all of my current skill to the project.
Bringing my Complete Professional Toolbox to a project does not mean that I always write the same kind of story. It means that I have certain standards of storytelling that must be met in order for me to feel that I've given the work my best shot, as a pro. I bring the same care -- the same measuring-stick and the same artistic judgment -- to all of my projects.
Like all pros, if they wish to continue succeeding, writers practice their skills, and stretch them, often beyond their comfort zone. In stretching, writers may, unlike other professionals, also stretch beyond their readers' comfort zones. I know some professional writers who hold as an article of faith that it is their business to discomfort their readers. Speaking as a professional science fiction writer, I don't think there's anything wrong with comfort stories. I do think that it's my job to show readers that there are alternative ways of doing and thinking; and remind them that their everyday Usuals are not the Universal Rule.
Sometimes, in stretching, writers undertake what seem to be Strange Projects. I remember being ...accosted... at a convention several years ago by a reader who wanted to take me to task for Local Custom. *Cue radio play*
"It's only a Secret Baby Story!" they scolded.
I admitted that I Knew That.
"Secret Baby Stories are STUPID! Even the Romance Writers have stopped doing them!"
I admitted that I Knew That, too.
"If you knew All That, why did you write this STUPID story?"
"Well," I said, "When we first moved to Maine, I was desperate for something, anything, to read, and the local bookstore was kinda thin on Science Fiction, so I wandered into the large, well-stocked Romance section and chose five books at random. Every single one of them was a Secret Baby Story, and boy, were they dumb. So dumb that I got to thinking about their obvious appeal and if one could be written in a way that Actually Made Sense. After thinking about it, on and off, for a couple years, I decided that maybe there was a way. And so I wrote Local Custom*. And then I wrote Scout's Progress* -- another Romance -- and on the whole I'm pretty pleased with both of them."
"You mean," they said blankly, "that you meant to do it?"
"Yep."
I'm still not sure if they believed me, but I did mean to do it, and I think I learned a lot, professionally, in the writing of those two books. Win-win.
(Not only that, but those two books won Romance awards (the Prism, given by the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal Chapter of the Romance Writers of America -- Scout took first place; Custom second. For the same year.) And! Scout was named Best Science Fiction Book of the Year by the editors of RomanticTimes Bookclub. Win-win-win.)
Among the other odd things that professional writers do is to sometimes write about topics, or present views, that they themselves don't agree with, and may even find reprehensible. This is another stretching exercise. A professional cannot shortchange the story. Even an "ugly" or "stupid" story deserves the best sentences, structure, characters, dialog, &c&c, that the Writer's Toolbox can produce.
This understanding served us well when John Ordover asked us to write Sword of Orion for the Phobos book line. We did not hold back because it was "only" a work-for-hire. We gave it our best professional shot, in accordance with the editor's vision. We did our best. That's what a professional does.
And now, since I'm a pro, and it's Saturday, I'm going back to the revisions for Fledgling.
----
*Each of the Lee-Miller projects has a Writer Who Started It and whose Fault the project is when the going gets rough. We each have input, though the amount varies considerably by project. Custom and Scout are Sharon's Fault.
That means that I Do It for Money.
It also means that when I have committed to write a story, I bring all of my current skill to the project.
Bringing my Complete Professional Toolbox to a project does not mean that I always write the same kind of story. It means that I have certain standards of storytelling that must be met in order for me to feel that I've given the work my best shot, as a pro. I bring the same care -- the same measuring-stick and the same artistic judgment -- to all of my projects.
Like all pros, if they wish to continue succeeding, writers practice their skills, and stretch them, often beyond their comfort zone. In stretching, writers may, unlike other professionals, also stretch beyond their readers' comfort zones. I know some professional writers who hold as an article of faith that it is their business to discomfort their readers. Speaking as a professional science fiction writer, I don't think there's anything wrong with comfort stories. I do think that it's my job to show readers that there are alternative ways of doing and thinking; and remind them that their everyday Usuals are not the Universal Rule.
Sometimes, in stretching, writers undertake what seem to be Strange Projects. I remember being ...accosted... at a convention several years ago by a reader who wanted to take me to task for Local Custom. *Cue radio play*
"It's only a Secret Baby Story!" they scolded.
I admitted that I Knew That.
"Secret Baby Stories are STUPID! Even the Romance Writers have stopped doing them!"
I admitted that I Knew That, too.
"If you knew All That, why did you write this STUPID story?"
"Well," I said, "When we first moved to Maine, I was desperate for something, anything, to read, and the local bookstore was kinda thin on Science Fiction, so I wandered into the large, well-stocked Romance section and chose five books at random. Every single one of them was a Secret Baby Story, and boy, were they dumb. So dumb that I got to thinking about their obvious appeal and if one could be written in a way that Actually Made Sense. After thinking about it, on and off, for a couple years, I decided that maybe there was a way. And so I wrote Local Custom*. And then I wrote Scout's Progress* -- another Romance -- and on the whole I'm pretty pleased with both of them."
"You mean," they said blankly, "that you meant to do it?"
"Yep."
I'm still not sure if they believed me, but I did mean to do it, and I think I learned a lot, professionally, in the writing of those two books. Win-win.
(Not only that, but those two books won Romance awards (the Prism, given by the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal Chapter of the Romance Writers of America -- Scout took first place; Custom second. For the same year.) And! Scout was named Best Science Fiction Book of the Year by the editors of RomanticTimes Bookclub. Win-win-win.)
Among the other odd things that professional writers do is to sometimes write about topics, or present views, that they themselves don't agree with, and may even find reprehensible. This is another stretching exercise. A professional cannot shortchange the story. Even an "ugly" or "stupid" story deserves the best sentences, structure, characters, dialog, &c&c, that the Writer's Toolbox can produce.
This understanding served us well when John Ordover asked us to write Sword of Orion for the Phobos book line. We did not hold back because it was "only" a work-for-hire. We gave it our best professional shot, in accordance with the editor's vision. We did our best. That's what a professional does.
And now, since I'm a pro, and it's Saturday, I'm going back to the revisions for Fledgling.
----
*Each of the Lee-Miller projects has a Writer Who Started It and whose Fault the project is when the going gets rough. We each have input, though the amount varies considerably by project. Custom and Scout are Sharon's Fault.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 11:11 pm (UTC)If I didn't have so much else on my To Be Read plate, you can bet this would be all it took to inspire me to go find said book for a quick rereading.