Saturday 15 November 2014

The good thing about Goodreads




I like Goodreads. It's great to find indie books that no one else knows about (I found The Last Falcon through it and thoroughly enjoyed it). They hold competitions where you can win books (although I've yet to win any). It has a large forum with lots of different groups you can join to discuss books and writing. You can get in touch with authors and, if you're an author, you can have a platform to reach readers.

But mostly it has reviews.

I don't know if anybody has done any statistics on Goodreads ratings but I would guess the average would be around 3.8. And also I disagree with a lot of them. Example:

A Great and Terrible Beauty (loved): 3.78
Evernight (hated): 3.66

The difference is small.


Doing a quick search, these are the average ratings for bestselling YA books:
The Hunger Games: 4.4
Harry Potter (1): 4.38
Twilight: 3.56
The Maze Runner: 4.02
Gone: 3.87
Inkheart: 3.83
Uglies: 3.87

These are the average ratings for some indie books:
The Last Falcon (read in one day): 3.67
Switch! The Lost Kingdom of Karibou (gave up): 4.46
Switched: 3.89 (this was a self-published book that became a bestseller and was picked up for traditional publication)
Arrow of the mist (haven't read yet): 4.22
Altors (haven't read yet): 4.25

And not an indie, but not so well known: The Night Circus: 4 - this was very pretty but I hated the plot and the characters.

Another example of differences depending on the version is Stargirl, a book I absolutely loved when I was a teenager: the one book version is rated at 3.76 for book 1 and 3.78 for book 2, but the boxset is rated at 4.05.

Other famous sci-fi/ fantasy books I've read:
Transition (Ian M. Banks): 3.82
The Assassin's Apprentice (Robin Hobb): 4.1 or 4.27 (depending on the version)
The colour of magic: 3.94 or 4.15 (depending on the version)
The Lies of Locke Lamora: 4.27


Now of course, the averages for the famous books are from over 10,000 ratings (sometimes considerably more), whereas for lesser known books it can be from a dozen or up to a few hundreds, so it's not a fair comparison. Also the readership is different: the rater for Ian Banks is not going to be the same person as the rater for Harry Potter - well, unless they're like me.

My point is that the difference in ratings between great books and average books is small, and sometimes null. Books that frustrated me are loved by some, and books I love are hated by others.

What gives me hope is this: people have different tastes. 

Not to say that I won't accept feedback - I always (over)think about it. But it helps me get over the fact that not everyone will like my story. Not everyone will like my character and my world.

And that's ok. I only hope that some will.

Now there's loads of other things involved in rating books, so if there's anything you've noticed, please leave a comment. Let's get a discussion going!

Saturday morning thoughts


~*~ Warning: this post includes discussions of plot and characters ~*~

I have been reading a Wattpad online book on writing and it made me reflect on a couple of things about my book, namely high concept and strong characters. So I thought I'd share those thoughts.

High concept:
The pitch of a book (or a movie) is a sentence that summarizes what it’s about. Also known as the elevator pitch, i.e. ‘you bump into an editor in the elevator and you have one minute before they get off - what do you say?’, famous examples include:
"Bambi in Africa meets Hamlet” (The Lion King)
“Teenagers fight to the death in an arena” (The Hunger Games)


If a story can be sold purely on the pitch alone, it is a High Concept. It is highly marketable. The Hunger Games is one.

Other examples (from storymerchantinclude:
“Erin Brockovich": An unemployed single mother becomes a legal assistant and almost single-handedly brings down a California power company accused of polluting a city's water supply.
"American Pie": Four teenage boys make a pact to lose their virginity by prom night.

So what would my pitch be and is it High Concept?
Well, the plot itself is quite complicated to explain. Whenever I'm asked what my book about I feel like asking, 'How long do you have?' - needless to say I haven't nailed the elevator pitch yet. The closest I’ve come to summarizing my story in a few words is my tagline ‘How far would you go for what you believe in?’ Thinking about it today, the only thing I could think of is ‘Good fairies do bad things’, but although it describes the concept, it really doesn’t tell you what the story is about. So I think I definitely fail on the high concept front.

But then again, what is the point? To make a story marketable. Marketable to publishers? I’m not going down that route. Marketable to the public? Well, I think word of mouth is more what I’m going for. After all, very few high concepts sell something to me. I read Harry Potter well into the hype (and in spite of it) because they were casting a role and advertised it in my school. I read the Hunger Games because I liked the movie, after it was recommended to me by a friend. If anything else, the high concept of the Hunger Games turned me off. 

My conclusion is that high concepts are overrated. The value of a story, I think, is in its execution.
‘Story ideas, treatments and screenplays can all have High Concept premises. But only High Concept projects can be sold from a pitch because they are pitch driven. Non-High Concept projects can't be sold from a pitch because they are execution driven. They have to be read to be appreciated and their appeal isn't obvious by merely running a logline past someone. This is the reason why films like "Pulp Fiction," "Star Wars" and "Sideways" could never be sold from a pitch.’

Not to say that my book is the next Star Wars, but I do think that its value is in the world, the characters and the ideas in it. And I think that is true even of High Concept books and movies. 

'Bambi in Africa meets Hamlet' really doesn't do this movie justice.

Strong characters:
You might remember my rant about strong female characters. However, the description the author of the wattpad book makes of strong characters is purely from a narrative perspective: they are characters who make choices (even bad ones), who act, and therefore move the story on.
So I analysed my own story from that angle. Stus and Rowan definitely are strong characters: they makes choices, and these choices have consequences that drive the story forward. Not so for Lacie, but I’ll come back to her in a second.

One comment The Boyfriend made while editing my book was that things for Stus happen too quickly. Because of the timeline, and the places where the different stories intertwine, I have no choice but to have those events happen to Stus when they do (or it would be confusing for the reader). After that, Stus is a lot more passive as he loses control of the situation. So his story peaks quite early on.

Lacie’s story, on the other hand, is the opposite. For most of the story she is passive. I know - I'm selling my character really well! So she doesn't act like a strong character, but I think her story is interesting because she eventually takes on a strong role. By the end of the story, when both Rowan and Stus have become powerless she is the one making the choices and making things happen. She becomes strong, when she wasn’t to start with. To me, over and above the plot resolution, that’s what makes the climax interesting.

I suppose that is why I need my three POV (point of view) characters: they take turns leading the story. Now I can see how that’s a little unorthodox (to say it nicely), but it’s not done for the sake of being original. It’s part of the story and how I need to tell it.


Relay race, anyone?


Whether or not it’s effective… well that’s a good question. But you'll let me know, right?

Sunday 2 November 2014

Editing example

Back in March (how time flies...) I posted my prologue. Big shout out to the lovely people who commented, privately or on the blog, to give me their feedback. It is much appreciated.

I have since edited said prologue, and I thought it might be interesting to show you what butchering editing looks like. In red is additions, crossed out are deletions and in green is where the sentence was kept the same but was moved. Needless to say the original prologue was itself far from a first draft.

~*~


A shadow sneaked through the small opening. A cat flap closed without a sound. Velvet paws jumped onto the counter and pushed the lock open. A small click of the keyhole later, the door opened shyly to reveal the dark and sleeping house. The hinge should have creaked, but the spell muffled the sound. A cloak billowed through the dark and sleeping house. Yet there were noises, so many noises: buzzing from the refrigerator, a tick-tock from a grandfather clock, a car revving past on its way back from a drunken night. Probably. Who knew, with these foreign sounds? Back home it would have been creaking wood and wind in the trees, perhaps hooves striking damp earth and friendly barking. But he was a long way from home.
The man He waited until he was sure his entrance had not set off any alarm, then he crept up the staircase. It was pitch black there – they must have closed all doors before going to bed – but he knew which door to head for. He had studied the comings and goings on the inhabitants enough to know. Not enough to displace himself straight to the room – no, that would have been too dangerous. In any case, he did not need to. The shadows he had summoned cloaked him. It was as close to being invisible as he could, without overexerting himself with illusory magic. He felt his way along the rough painted wall, his fingers exploring the surface for clues as to where he was. A corner later Around a corner, his hand closed around a handle and pushed it down.
He tiptoed past the chest of drawers to the bed and the girl stirred as though she felt his presence. As though she sensed all that would happen next. A silver blade appeared from the darkness and neared moved towards the pillow. The moonlight shone through the window, but he was safe. Even if she woke up now, all she would see was shadows.
If she woke up now, she would be able to see him. “But she won’t”, he told himself.
The dagger fell toward the girl's bare neck.

In a flash of silver and the swish of a cloak, he was down the stairs and out of the house, clutching a lock of silvery-blonde hair.

~*~
Now if you found that a bit confusing, this is what the prologue looks like now:

Prologue



A shadow sneaked through the small opening. A cat flap closed without a sound. Velvet paws jumped onto the counter and pushed the lock open. A small click of the keyhole later, the door opened shyly to reveal the dark and sleeping house. The hinge should have creaked, but the spell muffled the sound. Yet there were noises: buzzing from the refrigerator, a tick-tock from a grandfather clock, a car revving past on its way back from a drunken night. Probably. Who knew, with these foreign sounds? Back home it would have been the wind in the trees, hooves striking damp earth and friendly barking. But he was a long way from home.
He waited until he was sure his entrance had not set off any alarm, then crept up the staircase. It was pitch black there – they must have closed all doors before going to bed – but he knew which door to head for. He had studied the comings and goings of the inhabitants enough to know. Not enough to displace himself straight into the room - no, that would have been too dangerous. In any case, he did not need to. The shadows he had summoned cloaked him; it was as close to being invisible as he could, without overexerting himself with illusory magic. He felt his way along the rough painted wall, his fingers exploring the surface for clues as to where he was. Around a corner his hand closed around a handle and pushed it down.
He tiptoed past the chest of drawers to the bed and the girl stirred as though she felt his presence. As though she sensed all that would happen next. A silver blade appeared from the darkness and moved towards the pillow. The moonlight shone through the window, but he was safe. Even if she woke up now, all she would see was shadows. The dagger fell toward the girl's bare neck.

In a flash of silver and the swish of a cloak, he was down the stairs and out of the house, clutching a lock of silvery-blonde hair.