The 38 Most Common Fiction Writing Mistakes (17 page)

Having done all these things (and probably others, too), you will at long last again have a finished manuscript, fixes in place, pages in order, everything ready to go.

By this time, too, you will probably hardly be able to bear looking at the stacked pages again.

That probably means you're really finished now... really ready to pronounce the stow all done.

It stands to reason
that you want to get your editor to read your story. Therefore, it's obvious that you want to present her with as attractive a package as possible. How do you accomplish this? By following standard literary manuscript form.

Put your story in the proper manuscript form, and you won't prejudice the editor at the outset.

Entire books have been written on manuscript form. You probably know as much about the subject as I do. However, just to be sure you don't make a ghastly mistake when you send something off, here are a few general observations.

1. 
Everything must be typed
. The word "typed" also includes computer printouts
assuming the print is letter quality
. Many older nine-pin dot matrix printers will not fill the bill. If you can see dots in the letters, it isn't good enough. If the print is anything but bold and black and clean, it isn't good enough.

2. 
Use good quality white paper
—at least 14-pound weight. Don't go beyond 20-pound weight; it's too thick and heavy. It doesn't have to be expensive bond. Editors these days are pretty used to getting manuscripts on photocopy machine-type paper, which usually works best with laser printers. Onion skin and coarse papers, however, remain unacceptable.

3. 
Type on one side only, double-spaced
. This means
normal
double-spacing. Some machines put "double-spaced lines" almost on top of each other, and others put a vertical space in there that you could drive a truck through. Just because your printer calls it double-space doesn't necessarily mean it fits the standard set long ago on old manual and electronic machines. "Vacation portable double-space" is always too narrow. (And by the way, for heaven's sake don't stick extra spaces in between paragraphs, which drives editors nuts.)

4. 
Use a standard typeface
. Pica or similar size. No funny typefaces.

5. 
Use standard margins
. That means margins of one inch top, right and bottom, and inch and a half on the left. You may narrow the left margin a shade and increase the others a hair or two. Don't deviate widely from the norm because (on the practical side) editors estimate words from standard page dimensions, and (on the emotional side) editors get mad when somebody sends them something that doesn't fit the accepted norm. (Most editors say they want ragged-right margins, not printer-justified ones. I think this is damned picky, but the editors say it is harder to estimate the size of the finished book if the manuscript is justified on the right.)

6. 
Put your name and address on the first page
, near the top left if it's a short story and your copy is to be titled halfway down, and the story starts two-thirds of the way down. With a novel, a cover sheet with the title and your name and address is standard practice.

7. 
Put your last name and a sequential page number top right on every page
. Some people use a word of the title rather than author name. I don't know why; the author name seems simpler. Number the pages
straight through
, beginning to end. Do
not
start each chapter with another page one, for example.

8. 
At the end of the story, write "The End"
. Otherwise the editor might (no matter how wonderful your ending) start looking for another page. That's always bad. Give her a break; tell her when it's over.

Manuscripts of fewer than a dozen pages may be tri-folded and mailed in a regular envelope, if you insist I personally think
all
manuscripts should be mailed flat, paper clipped (not stapled, glued or nailed) if a few pages, otherwise loose in a manuscript (stationery) box.

Covering letter? Sure, but keep it very brief. If you have some special expertise that makes you extraordinarily qualified to write this story, mention it. Otherwise just say in essence, "Here it is, hope you like it, I've enclosed an SASE (or postage) in case you don't."

If you're trying to hit a major market, it's a good idea to
query first
. A brief letter, saying who you are and what you want to submit, will suffice. Not only might this open the editor's door a tiny crack later, but no response to your query means "no"—which could save months when your unsolicited manuscript otherwise might languish on the floor beside the editor's desk with all the other unsolicited material.

Second, always keep a complete copy. If you're on a computer, duplicate your disks and keep a backup set somewhere else: your workday job office, if you have such a salaried job, in a bank box, or at a friend's home. Never assume a hard disk won't crash... or that the house or office might not burn down. Better to be redundant than sorry.

And finally, how long will an editor take to respond to your carefully prepared manuscript? Far too long, in most cases. Sad to say, you probably shouldn't even begin to worry until three or four months have passed. After that, a polite letter of inquiry might be in order. But do keep it polite. Editors may be rude, but they expect writers to be not only polite, but downright obsequious. If you write an angry letter after four months, demanding an
immediate
decision, or else(!), the letter may arrive just on the day the manuscript came back from its third outside reading with a "maybe" vote on acceptance for publication; now the editor is trying to decide whether to buy it or not. Guess what's going to happen if you prejudice her at that point!

"Giving up" comes
in many forms. if you are to have a good career as a professional writer of fiction, you have to beware of all of them.

Here are some of the ways people give up, and so end up failures:

They always put off new work, fearing new rejection.

They always seem to be "just too busy today."

They wait for inspiration.

They claim they have too many distractions.

They get discouraged, lose confidence, and let fear block them.

They get angry and decide a cruel world is against them.

They imagine a conspiracy against them and their kind of work.

They blame fickle (or egregious) public taste.

They come to believe new writers don't have a chance anymore.

They say they always have bad luck.

They use up all their creative energy in complaining.

I left an extra space so you can add one additional form of giving up that you may have observed in someone around you.

Of all the kinds listed, it seems to me that one of the most insidious is the last on my list: complaining. Did it ever occur to you that it takes just as much emotional and creative energy to complain as it does to write a few creative pages? It's true. Complaining and excuse-making represents negative energy, but it's energy nevertheless. Would-be fictioneers who spend a lot of time whining about their plight are boiling off creative calories that might be better invested in the positive task of writing a new story. In addition, complaining creates a negative attitude that tends to feed on itself. Optimists—doers—have a chance. Pessimists—who do nothing—spend all their time defining the nature of their failure, sometimes even before it takes place.

Regardless of how hard your struggle as a fiction writer may become, as long as you are studying, writing, and improving, you remain "in the hunt." The prize you seek may yet be yours. Your quest cannot be lost unless
you
choose to throw in the white towel.

If you find yourself getting stale or blocked or bitter, then, perhaps it would be well for you to recite some of the following litany. (One writer I know actually has some of these printed on 3 X 5 cards, and carries the cards with her so she can look at them several times a day.)

You
can
sell without an agent.

Publishers
are
looking for new writers.

Beginners
Do
break in every year.

You
Do Not
have to live in New York to succeed.

Your next story
will
be better.

Your luck is not worse than most.

Persistence
will
win out.

The struggle
Is
worth making.

You
Do
have enough talent.

Anything You still need to know
can
be learned.

Tomorrow
will
look brighter.

As a developing talent, every famous writer in the world today went through dark times when he or she had to recite truths like this and fight to maintain faith in them. Popular myth to the contrary, there are no "overnight successes" among good writers. Each and every one of them went through a long and arduous apprenticeship, and most of them probably suffered periods of doubt and even despair every bit as bad as any you might have. You must not slip into the habit of complaining or making other excuses. To do so is to give up, and among successful people that isn't an option, simply isn't allowed.

Finally, one more note about not giving up. When you have finished a manuscript and sent it off to a publisher, it may very well come back. It's not unusual for a story to be rejected a number of times, then find a home. I wrote a novel once that my agent sent to every fiction publisher we could think of, and all of them turned it down. A year or two later,
a new publisher
started business, and my agent sent it to an editor there. That new house bought it, and it was reasonably successful when published. I know of at least one best-seller that was rejected
seventeen times
before being accepted. It then sold a hundred thousand copies in hard covers.

Knowing all this, you must also guard against giving up too soon on any given manuscript. If and when it comes back, you must turn it around and send it out to someone else. If and when it comes back that time, you must have the persistence to send it out again. The process may take months or, in the case of book-lengths, even years. You must persist. Until the manuscript has been rejected six to eight times, it hasn't even been tried yet! Will you get discouraged? Oh my yes. Will you want to put the manuscript in the closet to save yourself additional postage and potential disappointment? Of course. Will you have self-doubts? Naturally. Will you refuse to give up—and send it out still again? Yes!

Thus you will persist with the submission of finished projects and continue to fight disappointment that might stop your future work. In the course of this ongoing effort, you may doggedly write more stories of the same kind, intent on perfecting yourself with this kind of tale. Or you may try a different kind of fiction—a different length, different genre, different style. Either approach is fine. Neither is a sign of giving up. A willingness to strive for improvement through experimentation is just one hallmark of a writer still in the fight, refusing to give up. And so is a continued effort in the same vein.

If you refuse to give up, and press on regardless of discouraging events, you will find after a while that the ongoing effort in itself gives you new strength and hope. I don't understand exactly why this is so, but it is. The only way you can really ruin yourself is by giving up—under any of the guises that such a surrender may take.

Keep going. Ultimately, nothing else matters.

So we come to the end
of this book. The last pages here, however, should mean a beginning for you, wherever you may be.

Maybe you have nothing completed right now, but have an idea for a story... or a partial manuscript. If so, the end of this book signals the time you should get back to work on your project, and without delay.

But perhaps you already have a fiction project finished and submitted somewhere... in the mail.

If the latter, please note that one of two things can happen to it. It can either be rejected or it can be bought. If it's rejected, you need to have another project in the works so the momentary pain of the rejection will be diluted by your faith and hope in the later project. If its bought, you need to have another project under way so you can send it out, too, and
soon
, and possibly sell it as well.

Whatever
your circumstances, as a writer of fiction you need to be continually involved in the writing process. As noted at the very beginning of this brief excursion through some of the "don'ts," being at work makes future work seem easier, better oiled. For the sake of keeping your imagination smooth and your work habits disciplined, you must make a continuous effort.

Also, please note this: no writer can count on making a career out of one story or even one book. (Even Margaret Mitchell had written a tremendous amount of fiction, much unpublished, before her classic
Gone With the Wind
. And there is reason to believe that if she had lived, she would have written and published again.)

Your writing career, in other words, cannot be a one-shot operation. No matter how successful your last-completed story may become, you are going to need to write again.

Which is still another reason why you simply can't afford to sit around, waiting to see what happens to the last story... waiting for inspiration... waiting for
anything.
Whatever happens tomorrow, you need to be writing when it does.

So continue your current project now, today. Or start a new one. Now. Today. Don't sit around another moment.

Good luck!