The State of Modern Publishing (Part 1)

By Aaron Pogue on Saturday, March 2, 2013

My goal with this column is to share what I’ve learned about indie publishing and establish a place for us to discuss our experiences. To kick that process off, I thought it would be smart to provide a brief overview of my impression of the current state of indie publishing.

That’s definitely a moving target. Technology is developing quickly, and the market is in constant flux. That means all of this might be obsolete information within a matter of months (if not weeks), and a lot of it might have become dated just in the time since I last checked the pulse.

So my goal isn’t to provide a definitive truth, but to establish a known baseline (right or wrong) from which we can begin the conversation. These are the assumptions and premises on which future posts will be built. If something I say here strikes you as demonstrably wrong, educate me for the sake of future discourse. If something seems subjectively unappealing to you, bear that in mind when I make later recommendations on that subject.

Terminology

I’ll dive right into what’s probably the most fluid aspect of the whole conversation: terminology. It’s useful for us to have a common language, but there are a lot of people manipulating the terminology (for reasons good and bad) in an effort to shape public perception during this time of change.

So you’ll see advocates of traditional publishing persistently equating all forms of direct digital publishing with the parasitic industry of “vanity publishing,” as it’s been known for decades. That’s an easy parallel to make because, prior to the recent advent of direct digital publishing, the only easy way to accomplish self-publishing was through a vanity press (and at an exorbitant rate). That relationship has changed radically–most advocates of self-publishing despise vanity services just as much as the traditional folks do–but it’s in the interests of traditional publishers to maintain the outdated perception.

There’s power in words. If you’re reading this site, that’s something you already know deeply. So even as the traditional publishers are fighting for their names, the people disrupting their industry are trying to establish terms of their own. Konrath and Eisler like to refer to the traditional publishing model as “legacy publishing,” and Konrath has even made a solid case for calling traditional publishing the new “vanity.”

For the sake of our conversations, I’m going to use the phrases “traditional publishing” and “indie publishing” to refer to full-service intermediary publishing and direct-to-retailer publishing respectively. There’s some contention over the appropriateness of the “indie publishing” label (contention I’m pretty willing to dismiss), but I’m primarily using it because it covers not only “self-publishing” but also the sort of low-barrier-to-entry small press stuff that direct digital publishing enables. That is…the sort of stuff I do at Consortium Books.

I might also use the phrase “Kindle Publishing” from time to time as a sort of generic nickname for direct digital publishing. Naturally, there are a lot more players in that field than just the Kindle, but the Kindle has earned itself some spotlight, and the phrase “Kindle Publishing” is far more evocative to the casual audience than something technical like direct digital publishing.

So now we have some code words. What are we going to do with them?

Which is Better: Traditional Publishing or Indie Publishing?

I’ll save us all a lot of time pretending to provide a fair and balanced evaluation, considering the pros and cons of both sides. It’s not hard to find such posts, but I’d have to do a lot of playacting to make it seem like I endorse traditional publishing.

Indie publishing is better. Indie publishing is a lot better. If you’re already at a position in your career where traditional publishing is an option, then you’ll make a lot more money indie publishing. If you’re not at that point, you can learn on the job and make some money indie publishing, instead of spending years banging on Manhattan doors with query letters.

I’ve personally made an exception when it comes to Amazon’s 47North imprint, which feels somewhere halfway between traditional and indie publishing. The contracts are certainly more author-friendly. You can read through some of my reasoning for that, but overall–without knowing a writer’s specific situation–I’d unflinchingly recommend indie publishing over traditional publishing.

Indie publishing lets you manage your own career, keep control of your own creative works, and publish according to your own schedule. There’s some extra (non-writing) work involved, but not as much as you would think. That is, there’s more non-writing work involved in traditional publishing than you would think, so it comes out close.

Meanwhile, it’s our goal to help you out with all the non-writing work, no matter how you choose to publish. That’s why Joshua is posting advice on sales and marketing every week, Rachel is helping you with cover art design, and both Jessie and Thomas are working on editing and revision for you.

And, of course, you have me. Check back next week, and I’ll go into some detail concerning all these extra tasks–what’s required, what’s worth doing, and what surprises should you expect along the way.

The Different Functions of an Editor

By Jessie Sanders on Friday, March 1, 2013

Hi! It’s your editor again. Remember me? I’m the one that makes sure your book is actually ready to be read by your adoring fans.

If you’re confused about what an editor actually does, that might be because we do so many different things.

Technically, everything we do is editing, but there’s a lot that goes in that. I mean, the role itself varies in different arenas. I often feel the need to say, “I’m a book editor” because otherwise I’m afraid people will think I edit for a newspaper or magazine. So what do your book editors really do? The names for the different functions sometimes vary depending on who you’re working for, but the general terms are as follows:

Copy Editor

Copyediting is all about the rules. Primarily, the rules of grammar and formatting. This is the job for someone who can’t stand to see even the tiniest comma used improperly in a sentence. You have to know where those suckers go and not let a single one of them step out of line. Just like language is always changing, so is the grammar that shapes it. We have dictionaries to give us rules for language, and style books to give us rules for grammar. Most publishing companies use the Chicago Manual of Style.

Copyeditors also have to know the difference between all those homonyms and know if this idiom is, in fact, an idiom. Attention to detail is a must when checking for an extra space between a tab and the beginning of the sentence and ensuring that parenthetical statement has a closing parentheses.

Lastly, copyeditors check for consistency in formatting. If they don’t, it could cause major problems down the line for the layout person.

So do copyeditors just sit and read all day? Yes, they do. To you it may seem tedious, but to the copyeditor there is always the reward at the end of the day knowing that he has fought for the side of the English language and won. If Strunk and White were still alive, they would applaud us.

Editor (or Conceptual Editor)

Conceptual editing includes working on big picture issues like narrative voice, plot holes, character development, and story flow. It’s more difficult than copyediting becuase the rules aren’t as defined. Rather than just pointing to a section of CMOS, editors have to convince their authors that what they are saying is right.

Editors usually point to other works and to big name editors like Sol Stein and William Zissner as the basis of their opinions. Editors need to always be on the lookout for what works and what doesn’t. What makes this plot implausible? How can the reader become more sympathetic toward your MC?

Conceptual editing takes a lot of dialogue between the author and the editor. Both parties have to be willing to listen to each other and sometimes compromise for the sake of the story. The important thing to remember is that your editor really does want what is best for your MS. Your editor is working based on the experience of thousands of editors before him.It may seem like slashing your MS to bits, but the editor knows that an MS that goes through adversity is more beautiful on the other side.

On Tuesdays here at Unstressed Syllbables, Thomas Beard is going to be talking about the Rewriting aspects of your novel. Most of that is going to be learning how to conceptually edit yourself so that you will be all ship-shape and ready to go when you send your manuscript in to your freelance editor.

Line Editor

Often the role of line editor is lumped together with editor, but we differentiate at the Consortium. That’s because while the editor focuses on the general story and overarching ideas, the line editor focuses on how each individual sentence (or paragraph) reads. If the author has a recurring problem, like misplacing modifiers, then line editing can turn into dealing with larger issues, which is why it’s usually put together with conceptual editing. When I line edit, I look for things like confusing word choice, ambiguous statements, overly lengthy monologues, etc. No matter how good a writer you are, you’re always going to have a few confusing issues like that line editors help clarify.

Thomas will also be talking a lot about line editing when he delves into his Editorial Reviews each month. You may have seen him edit in detail a small bit of work a couple of weeks ago. He’ll be do that more for you, so that you can get a handle on what makes each sentence flow well.

Proofreader

The proof reader is looking for any last minute errors in grammar, spacing, and punctuation. This comes after the MS has been sent to layout, because sometimes the conversion process creates errors as well. It’s at once both a very light and very thorough job. It has to be light, focusing on the minor issues, because the book is essentially done. It has to be thorough, because each error that your readers find lowers their opinion of you, even if just microscopically. Readers are your harshest critics, and even a misplaced comma means a lot to them, especially if you’re self-published.

As I tried to convey last week, editing is a big deal. I highly recommend you find someone else, someone professional to edit your work for you before you either submit it to a publisher or publish it yourself. Next week my friend Laurie Laliberte will give you some advice on how to go about hiring a professional editor.

But even before you hire that editor, there’s a lot of work that needs to be done on your manuscript to make it neat and tidy. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll be here every Friday to give you tips on the copyediting portion of your manuscript. Don’t know how to use a comma? I can tell you. When do you use those pesky hyphens? I’ve got some tricks to help you remember.

Jessie Sanders is the managing editor at Consortium Books, editor of the bestselling Dragonprince trilogy, and author of the young adult fantasy novel, Into the Flames. Every Friday she shares an article about editing and how to improve one’s grammar.

Find out more about Jessie Sanders at her author website, and check out her novel, Into the Flames, in stores now!

Filed in Editorial | Tagged Chicago Manual of Style, copyediting, Editing, Jessie Sanders, line editor, Proofing, Strunk and White | Comments Off

Guts & Bolts: Epic Fantasy Promotional Copy Is Anything But

By Joshua Unruh on Thursday, February 28, 2013

Guts & Bolts is my catch-all dissection and deconstruction of various parts of book promotion. Since promotional copy is my theme this month and with Courtney’s review fresh in mind, I decided to take a look at promo copy in one of the most beloved facets of the fantasy genre…Epic Fantasy.

Most beloved by fantasy fans, perhaps, but not by me. Epic Fantasy and I have a checkered past, so I’ll try to keep my comments on point and not get all ranty.

But it may be difficult! Much of the reason that most Epic Fantasy fails to engage me is visible right there in the promotional copy. Promo copy that is, I might add, not very good at its job. Let’s take a look at a few examples.

Black Sun Rising Is a Black Hole of Interest

First things first, I have never read the first or any books in this trilogy. No one reading this, especially Courtney, should take my words as any kind of commentary on how enjoyable a read this book is or is not. That said, I think my lack of foreknowledge puts me in a good place to evaluate the promotional copy. From our friends at Amazon, here it is:

The Coldfire trilogy tells a story of discovery and battle against evil on a planet where a force of nature exists that is capable of reshaping the world in response to psychic stimulus. This terrifying force, much like magic, has the power to prey upon the human mind, drawing forth a person’s worst nightmare images or most treasured dreams and indiscriminately giving them life. This is the story of two men: one, a warrior priest ready to sacrifice anything and everything for the cause of humanity’s progress; the other, a sorcerer who has survived for countless centuries by a total submission to evil. They are absolute enemies who must unite to conquer an evil greater than anything their world has ever known.

So is this a story of discovery and battle against evil, or is it a story of two men? I’m not saying it can’t be both, but by leading with the world-building information first, the promo copy suggests what we should be most interested about in the book. So it’s weird physical forces on a world that isn’t Earth with at the very least centuries of history I’m going to need to be aware of if not conversant with.

Am I the only one who reads this as anti-promotional copy? Primarily, exciting stories are made of engaging characters and exciting situations, not history and culture lessons on places that don’t exist. And like a lot of Epic Fantasy, this copy tells me I’m going to get more of the latter than the former.

A Finger in The Eye of the World

Now let us turn to Robert Jordan’s sprawling Wheel of Time series by focusing on the first volume. In this case, I have read this book. It was AMAZING and hooked me on the series…for about 7 books. That’s when I lost interest, though sheer inertia made me buy a couple more after that. At any rate, having read this one and loved it, I can testify that the promotional copy fails miserably not once but twice. Check it out.

The Eye of the World is book one of The Wheel of Time®, Robert Jordan’s internationally bestselling fantasy series. This edition features cover art by David Grove. The art, which originally debuted on the e-book, will grace bookstores for the first time on this handsome trade paperback edition.

I’m not kidding, that’s all of it on Amazon. Now that’s what the publisher put there, so I don’t think I owe them any more benefit of the doubt. But some of you may be thinking I’m unfair, so I’ll give it another shot with a Library Journal review.

The peaceful villagers of Emond’s Field pay little heed to rumors of war in the western lands until a savage attack by troll-like minions of the Dark One forces three young men to confront a destiny which has its origins in the time known as The Breaking of the World. This richly detailed fantasy presents a fully realized, complex adventure which will appeal to fans of classic quests. Recommended.

Three young men from a tiny, peaceful village. And they have a destiny. Oh, and there’s more fake history you need to know. And a painfully generic Dark One. Ugh.

But Why the Epic Fail?

Okay, I’m going to stop picking on Epic Fantasy now and instead explain why I would never want to be the guy at a big publisher responsible for writing the promo copy for it. These books are nearly impossible to write good promo copy about because their plots are sprawling, million page affairs with so many ancillary characters and internal history/culture lessons that it’s impossible to weaponize the plot.

You can’t boil it down to the most interesting bits because it only gets interesting in aggregate. This is why there are mysterious wars and millenia of history and generic Dark Ones. All that plot weight (and, I might add, actual paper weight, pardon the pun) becomes one of those cartoon snowballs that rolls inexorably downhill grabbing up or knocking down everything in its path.

But if I had to pick any individual plot thread, it would be like looking at a clump of snow snatched off the giant snowball. Obviously related, but not terribly interesting on its own.

Now, I absolutely betray some of my personal reading preferences in that summation. But I’m prepared to be proven wrong! In the comments, link some examples of what you think are GOOD promotional copy for Epic Fantasy novels. If anybody convinces me, there’ll be a prize involved. It will appeal to fans of Epic Fantasy, I promise. But don’t get too excited, you’ve got some big metaphorical snowballs to push uphill before you can worry about the prize.

Joshua Unruh is the Marketing Czar for the Consortium and author of the grim fantasy Saga of the Myth Reaver: Downfall. Every Thursday he shares an article about marketing, sales, and product promotion in the new book market.

Find out more about Joshua Unruh at his author website, and check out his newest book, Saga of the Myth Reaver: Downfall, in stores now!

Filed in Product Description Analysis, Sales | Tagged Coldfire trilogy, CS Friedman, epic fantasy, Joshua Unruh, Robert Jordan, Wheel of Time | Comments (4)

May The Arc Be With You

By Thomas Beard on Wednesday, February 27, 2013

The student of writing can come up with myriad metaphors for what writing is like. Call it painting. Call it shipbuilding. Call it a political race. Let me tell you one of my favorites.

Writing is like sculpting. You take this raw idea and you cut away the unnecessary, the amorphous. What is left is a polished and unique representation of some aspect of the world.

The surprising thing about writing is that every good story is shaped roughly the same.

All of them. It’s ingrained in the human mind—I think it’s instinct—that if a story isn’t shaped like that, it isn’t good.

This arc is a diagram of what the action looks like in a story. It starts small as you introduce your readers to your world and your characters and your problems. Then it grows. There’s tension. There’s suspense. It all culminates with the height of the action, the climax of the story, where all of the characters and problems come together and require resolution. Once the climax is over, the action falls. The crises are resolved for good or ill. The characters have changed. There is a new baseline in your world.

Now, the arc above is extremely simplified. For one thing, you won’t spend nearly as much time winding down a story as you will winding it up. That was the convention a long time ago; Shakespeare’s plays are extremely symmetrical. These days we tend to have the climax at the very end and only spend, at most, a chapter or two describing how things calm down and what kind of normalcy prevails after the climax.

So really your book is shaped more like this.

And even that is oversimplified. The action in a good book doesn’t rise smoothly. Your book is made up of scenes, and some of these scenes are going to be more active than others. So the line of your plot arc is really going to be very jagged.

And then there are the really pivotal scenes. I call them plot points. You can think of them as mini-climaxes. These are the ones where the tension spikes for a moment as a new plot twist or conflict is introduced. The action then dies down a little before rising again toward the true climax.

So an accurate representation of the shape of your book would really be like this.

Sound complex? It is at first, but if you spend enough time writing stories it becomes like second nature. And let me reiterate that this is universal. All good stories follow this pattern.

Take, for instance, the first Star Wars movie (Episode IV: A New Hope). Our baseline is that there is a galactic rebellion against the evil empire, and there is a kid named Luke who, unbeknownst to him (but knownst to us), is being drawn toward that rebellion. The tension rises until the first plot point, where Luke is ambushed in the desert. This plot point introduces a key character (Obi-Wan Kenobi), and then the action dies down a little as they go into town.

The tension then continues to rise as they get a pilot and leave town, discover the Death Star, infiltrate it, and rescue the princess. This leads to the next plot point where Obi-Wan is killed by Darth Vader. Then the characters fly away and the action dies down, only to continue to rise as the Death Star now poses a threat to the rebels. The climax finally arrives in the form of an epic battle between the Death Star and a ragtag group of freedom fighters. The conflict is resolved when the Death Star is blown to smithereens, and there is a scene of falling action as our heroes are rewarded.

Star Wars follows our pattern precisely. Interspersed throughout the plot points are smaller bits of rising and falling action that slowly work up toward the ultimate moment of conflict and resolution.

It’s not just Star Wars. Lord of the Rings does it, both within each book and as a whole. The Count of Monte Cristo does it, V for Vendetta does it, The Great Mouse Detective does it, and you can even see it in each and every episode of Law and Order. Show me even a moderately good story, and in five minutes I can draw for you a precise and detailed plot arc. Whether we are born or trained to shape stories like this, the fact is that we do.

And, wouldn’t you know it, I even shaped this article in an arc. At the beginning I introduced the idea of the plot arc. Each of my diagrams was a plot point where I gave more and more detail to the idea. I continued to heighten the tension through my demonstration of the arc’s ubiquity until this, my climax, where my master plan is finally revealed. And now we will resolve the conflict by discussing what the plot arc has to do with rewriting.

If you can perfectly shape your story so that all its facets—your plot, your character development, your thematic development, everything—fit the arc precisely on your first draft, you don’t need to be reading my blog. I need to be reading yours.

As for the rest of us, on our first draft we chisel out a very rough representation of the people and ideas that fill our story. We use our subsequent drafts to reshape them and redefine them and make sure they fit the proper structure. This is part of why a story is always better on the third draft than on the first. As we rewrite our material, we shape it to fit the arc structure that is most ideally suited for telling stories.

One of the best things you can do for your story, no matter the medium, no matter the genre, is to draw out its arc. I don’t care if you do it with paper or Play-Doh, just diagram it. When you can define what the plot points are, how the action flows between them, and how it affects what happens to your world, your characters, and your themes, you will be thinking about your work on a new, more mature, more professional level. Then, young padawan, you will know the ways of the arc.

This article required four read-throughs.

Thomas Beard is a writer and editor with the Consortium. Every Wednesday he shares an article about revision, rewriting, and story structure.

Watch for his debut epic fantasy, The Orphan Queen.

Filed in Rewriting | Tagged a New Hope, Lord of the Rings, Obi-Wan, plot arc, Star Wars, The Count of Monte Cristo, Thomas Beard, V for Vendetta | Comments Off

Saving Sanity: How to Talk to Your Designer

By Rachel Giles on Tuesday, February 26, 2013

If life were simple, the design process would go something like this:

You: “Hi, Designer. I want a book cover.”

Designer: “Let me telepathically absorb exactly what you’re looking for and add a couple things to make it better.”

The perfect finished cover is delivered in a day or two. Cue the high five. Everyone is pleased and nobody enters the witness protection program.

As much as we wish it, life is never quite that easy. Often complications and miscommunications arise from the act of living that turn our projects into nightmares. And, if you were to peek into the designers’ bin of hopes and fears, one of their nightmares is the client from hell. So how do you avoid being that client for your designer? By one little phrase: providing good feedback. And how does one go about providing good feedback to someone who thinks in pictures rather than words?

Provide Quality Info from the Start

Much like you wouldn’t show up to an interview without your resume, you should come prepared when you meet with your designer. Provide as much relevant, rich, and detailed information as you can at the beginning of the process, and it will reap benefits in the long run (and possibly keep you under budget). This principle especially applies if your designer won’t have the chance to read your book before the deadline.

A prepared designer will pick your brain for their design brief, so it’s good to have your thoughts organized. Do you already have an idea what character/situation/words you’d like on the cover? Let your designer know that. If there’s any specific trend or visual element you wish to avoid, be sure to express that to your designer before he or she spends time on your book cover. Put a little effort into the process before it begins and it will make the experience less frustrating for both of you.

Don’t Micromanage…

I think we can all agree that being micromanaged falls on everyone’s list of “Work-related things I passionately dislike.” So it should be no surprise that it applies to designers as well. As helpful as you might think it is to “check in” every day to see if they have any questions, you are probably making them dislike working for you. Or at the very least hogging up space in their voicemail. If they have any questions, rest assured, they will email or call you.

…and no Laissez-Faire Managing Either

Almost as annoying is laissez-faire managing. This is the kind of managing where there is none. Ever. It’s when you come to the initial consolation with no information and say “I dunno what I want. You’re the designer. Make me something amazing.” (I quote from real-life experience.) It’s also when the designer has to twist your arm to get you to give any hint of an opinion on a mockup. As hinted in the intro, designers can’t read your mind (yet) and like hearing your opinion. After all, it’s your money that you’re spending. You should have something to say about the final product. Give your designer room to use their expertise, yes, but it will smooth the process if you have some opinions on the matter.

Be Thoughtfully Direct

If you don’t like the mockup your designer shows you, feel free to say so in a polite way from the beginning. If your designer is a professional, they will understand. Sparing the feelings of your designer doesn’t help anyone in the long run. It leads to a completed design you don’t like. As a bonus, if you wait until the end to admit your dissatisfaction, it will irritate your designer, probably force a redo of your cover and possibly go over your budget, since you’ll almost certainly be billed for that extra time and effort because you didn’t say anything. That being said…

Mix Some Positive Feedback in with the Negative

You know the motherly saying “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?” Applicable in some circumstances, but not in this case. However, there is something to be said for mentioning what you like as well as what you dislike. Besides softening the blow of any harsh negative feedback you might have, this also lets the designer know what not to mess with when they go into revisions. For example, if you really liked the colors, but hate the photo chosen, say so. Then the designer can look for another photo that incorporates that color scheme.

Be Specific

Inspect the design thoroughly. What works? What doesn’t work? What can make it better? These are the questions you should be answering for your designer as specifically as possible. Instead of saying a general “I don’t like the title,” think exactly why you don’t like the title. Do you think it doesn’t fit the mood of your book? Is it too big or not big enough? Is it hard to read? And whatever you say in your feedback, please avoid subjective, vague words like “edgy” or “cool” or “pizzazz.” Besides not being specific at all, designers are secretly rolling their eyes at you if you use them.

Keep the End Goal in Sight

As you and your designer communicate, always keep the buyers of your book in mind. It might be tempting, since you have spent good money on someone, to fall into “What I want” mode. You might absolutely adore the color purple, but is that the best color for your book cover to attract readers? What would be the most appealing, truthful book cover for them? In the end,this design isn’t about a pretty book cover to hang on your wall, it’s about what is best for your readers.

Good feedback and communication is absolutely necessary for a good relationship between your designer and you. Without a good relationship, then your book cover, and the words beyond, will suffer for it.

Rachel Giles is a professional graphic designer who graciously donates her time to the Consortium. Every Tuesday she shares an article about quality cover design.

Filed in Cover Design | Tagged constructive criticism, critical feedback, graphic designers, Rachel Giles | Comments (1)

Cut It Out! C.S. Friedman and the Dreaded Prologue

By Courtney Cantrell on Monday, February 25, 2013

Welcome, dearest writers and readers, to my first feature post!

This week we’re on about prologues. Should we have them? Or should we cast them upon the cleansing fires of editing and rewrites, never allowing them to mar another of our manuscripts again?

The Problem with Prologues

Rumor has it that your editor (you do have an editor, right?) will tell you to cut the prologue every time. I guess it depends on the prologue (i.e. the quality of your writing) and the editor (i.e. professional or personal taste).

What I do know, however, is that as I’ve kept my ear more firmly plastered to the writerly ground over the last few years, I’ve heard louder and more frequent rumblings and grumblings against the infamous prologue.

You shouldn’t have a prologue. It distracts from the rest of the story.

The prologue in Mr. Famous Fantasy Writer’s novel is as long as a chapter. He should’ve just made it Chapter 1.

You’re using the prologue to tell backstory that you should weave into the actual story. So cut the prologue and start weaving!

And so forth.

“Yes, your editor will tell you to cut the prologue. There’s a section in Orson Scott Card’s How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy that details why, and I agree with him wholeheartedly. You can quote me on that.”

–Jessie Sanders,
your friendly neighborhood Consortium editor

The Pain of the Prologue

All good points, and I agree with them. Prologues often do distract from the rest of the story, because they so often focus on characters who don’t appear in the rest of the novel. You get to the end of the book — and a day later, you randomly remember that there was a prologue. Thinking back on the ending and on the story as a whole, you have no idea how the prologue connected to the rest of it.

Or the prologue was 5,000 words long. If that’s how long the chapters are, why is the prologue there? Why isn’t it Chapter 1? If it has the form and the feel of a chapter, then it doesn’t deserve special set-apartness. Incorporate it into the story.

Me, I spent six years writing the story that became Rethana’s Surrender — and for five of those years, the story possessed a prologue. Then Aaron got hold of it and pointed out that while my little prologue scene was well-crafted, fun, interesting, and endearing, it really bogged down the start of the real story.

“It would make a great short story submission to a fantasy magazine,” he said, “but it makes kind of a lousy prologue.”

By the time I called Rethana’s Surrender complete, the well-crafted, interesting little prologue no longer existed as such. Its endearing story comes out in dialogue in Chapters 1 and 2, and the novel is the better for it.

So. No prologues for me. And no prologues for you, either! I’m glad we got that settled.

Pause for a Prologue

Except.

There’s this fabulous epic fantasy novel called Black Sun Rising by C. S. Friedman.

She starts her novel off with a prologue. It’s a doozy, and I mean that in a good way. Also, it is creepy.

When I realized that the creepy I was reading was a prologue, I thought, “Meh.”

Here we go again. Yet another fantasy author with a pointless prologue penchant. Get to the main characters, please. I’d like to start the story.

Well, then Friedman starts the story. It sucks me in, and I fall in love with this vivid, nuanced world the author has created. I get introduced to the main villain, who’s totally charming in the way only the best antagonists can be: a bad guy you hate to love, but you can’t help it. Fortunately, his hostility toward the MC also makes you love to hate him. Not to mention that this bad guy is really, really creepy–

Wait a minute. Where have I read this kind of creepy before?

Oh.

The prologue.

Okay, Ms. Friedman. I see what you did there.

Pro-Prologue

When it comes to the pernicious prologue, Friedman gets it as right as an author can when choosing to write one:

Throughout the rest of the story, Friedman touches on things we read in the prologue. Sensations, emotions, atmosphere, events. Even suspicions that the reader’s mind forms. This prologue is no distraction, because its themes run like a vivid thread through the tapestry of the story.
Friedman keeps her prologue short. It’s only a few pages long, whereas some of the chapters stretch to 30 pages. The prologue definitely doesn’t look or read like the chapters.
The author uses her prologue to tell the story of how the antagonist–who is in the rest of the book!!!–becomes the bad guy. It’s not unnecessary backstory, because its vivid imagery and distinctive setting plant themselves in the reader’s mind. And those little seeds lie there, dormant, until the reader comes across Mr. Bad Guy several chapters into the story. At this point, the seeds start to grow, and the reader realizes that something worse is afoot than the main characters know.

That tantalizing realization wouldn’t happen without the prologue.

Curses!

All right, all right. I give, already! I guess I’m not as staunchly anti-prologue as I thought I’d become. You can all have your prologues back–provided you do them well.

Aha! There’s the clincher, isn’t it? If we want our prologues to matter, if we want them to be valid and not get rewritten onto the editorial funeral pyre, we’ve got to write them well.

So, the rules still apply–and Friedman follows them. That’s why her prologue works.

Courtney Cantrell is Head of the School of Writing for the Consortium and author of the epic fantasy Rethana’s Surrender. Every Monday she shares an article about storytelling technique.

Find out more about Courtney Cantrell at her author website.

Filed in Prewriting/Story-Telling, What I Learned About Writing This Month | Tagged Black Sun Rising, C.S. Friedman, Courtney Cantrell, Creative Writing, Editing, Fantasy, Prologues | Comments (1)

Technical Tip: Tabs

By Aaron Pogue on Saturday, February 23, 2013

For reasons that will soon become obvious, I’ve been spending a lot of time lately at Kindleboards. It’s a fantastic forum for indie writers (as long as you don’t let it use up your writing time). A lot of very friendly, very talented people hang out there, and they’re generous about answering new writers’ questions.

While I was lurking a few nights ago, one such question came up. The thread’s title was “The dreaded ‘tab’ question…” and as soon as I saw the title, I knew what would be lurking inside. I also realized that I had the subject for my first feature post!

There’s little more technical about the writing process than the dreaded tab question. It’s a problem that hampers even the best of us. Joshua and Courtney have both been working with me for years, and (if I recall correctly) they both still don’t fully know the answer to the tab question.

Today, I intend to rectify that. This one’s for Courtney and Joshua and the friendly commenter at Kindleboards and everyone else trying to write and publish a book without ten years of Tech Writer training and experience backing them up.

Background

Once upon a time, people had to rely on these monstrous mechanical devices to print and set their manuscripts. My granddad called them “typewriters.” They were tedious and awful and stupid.

Today, we use Word Processor software that many people think is tedious and awful and stupid for one simple reason: they’re trying to use the Word Processor like a typewriter. It’s not. Microsoft Word is a document layout engine, and it is astonishingly useful as long as you use it as a document layout engine. There might not be a better example of this than the dreaded tab question.

Here’s the problem: On typewriters, hitting Return would advance the paper by one line and slide the carriage all the way back to the left margin. In order to visually set off paragraphs, a typist would mash the space bar a bunch of times to insert a first-line indent, and then start typing. In order to save time and introduce (some) consistency, the “Tab” key could conveniently insert those spaces for you.

Efficient typists developed the habit of hitting Return then Tab whenever they reached the end of a paragraph. It was a quick one-two punch, and it created a nice, readable document with no more smarts than one of those clunky devices could manage.

And so, naturally, when typewriter keyboards became the model for modern computer keyboards, and typewriter functionality gradually evolved into Word Processor functionality, the “Tab” key persisted through it all. Many, many authors still build paragraphs today the same way typists did back then. It works–that’s a software feature called “backwards compatibility”–but it causes all kinds of problems because it’s an obsolete way of doing things.

The Unseen

You see…those tab characters hang around. When you press “Tab” in Word, it doesn’t just move the cursor, it sticks a big fat empty space inside the line. You can’t necessarily see the tab character (any more than you can an ordinary space), but it’s now lurking inside your text, and when you try to use that text elsewhere–when, for instance, you try to convert your Word .doc file into an e-book that will look nice on the Kindle–the computer programs converting your text don’t know that you just wanted that tab to move the paragraph’s first line over. Tabs can be used for all kinds of things, and once it’s in the text, the program only sees it as another typed character.

You can get a glimpse at all your tab characters by turning on your Word Processor’s “Hidden Symbols.” To do this in any recent version of Word, just look through the menu bars until you find the paragraph symbol () and click that.

Your document will go from normal reading mode, which looks something like this:

To markup mode, which looks something like this:

And in that mode, you can see the offending tab characters at the beginning of every paragraph, right? When you try to copy or convert this text into anything other than Word, those characters can cause all kinds of problems.

The Solution

I have good news about the solution to the tab problem.

It’s simple.
It’s effective.
It’ll make you much better at using your word processor.

That’s because the secret to fixing your tab problem is learning how to use template-based formatting (which is nearly synonymous with the idea of “Styles”). Template-based formatting allows you to tell the word processor how you want a type of thing to look–a normal paragraph of text, for instance–and allow the word processor to apply that formatting to all the normal paragraphs of text in your document.

I’ve talked about the benefits of template-based formatting before. It’s incredibly powerful, and once you get the hang of it, it’s not hard. You can read that article for a more thorough introduction, but today we’re going to jump straight to the matter at hand.

First-line Indent

The typewriter method is so ingrained that you’ll often hear people talking about “tabbed” paragraphs, but the proper name for the format you want is “indented” paragraphs. You can create the appearance of an indent with a tab character (that’s what the tab character was invented for), but there are other, better ways to do it within a word processor.

The best method is to modify your normal paragraph text. In Word 2010, you’ll find the list of styles right on the home ribbon. Right-click “Normal” and choose “Modify.” The “Modify Style” dialogue will open. In the bottom-left corner, choose “Format” and then “Paragraph.”

All modern word processors work essentially the way I’m going to describe, but for my samples I’ll use screenshots and instructions from Word 2010 because that’s what I happen to have installed on my laptop. If you can’t easily figure out how to do it in your software of choice, do a Google search for “modify paragraph style <name of word processor>” and you should find plenty of instructions.

Everything up to now has been navigating. Now we’re going to make an actual change. This new dialogue describes all the different ways Word positions the paragraphs in your document. Right now, we want to change the first-line indent. So find the section in the middle of the frame labeled “Indentation” and, within that, the drop-down box labeled “Special.”

Change that from “None” to “First line” and make sure the text-box beside it says 0.5″.

Now press “OK” as many times as it takes to get back to your document, and you’ll find the extra indent already added onto every paragraph.

That’s all it takes. Now your normal paragraph style will always start with a half-inch first-line indent, and you’ll never have to press the tab button again.

Cleaning Up Your Mess

Before I leave, I’m going to show you one more trick, although I won’t take the time to explain it in detail here. But after all the work you just did to make your document look better…it probably looks a lot worse right now. That’s because every paragraph now starts with a half-inch indent followed by the old tab characters.

Let’s get rid of the tab characters. The easiest, fastest way to do that is to hit Ctrl-H to open up the “Find and Replace Dialogue.”

In the “Find” box, type ^t (that’s Shift-6 and then the letter “t”). In the “Replace with” box, hit Delete a bunch of times to make sure it’s completely empty. Then click “Replace All.”

That should clean up your mess. Word just deleted all the tab characters for you, leaving a manuscript with first-line indents that come entirely from template-based formatting.

Good work!

Aaron Pogue is the head publisher at Consortium Books, author of the bestselling Dragonprince trilogy, and serves as the User Experience consultant at Draft2Digital.com. Every Saturday he shares an article about publishing and the new book marketplace.

Find out more about Aaron Pogue at his author website.

Filed in Publishing, Technical Tip of the Month | Tagged Aaron Pogue, Formatting, tabs, Word 2010 | Comments (3)

Why You Need an Editor

By Jessie Sanders on Friday, February 22, 2013

Two weeks ago I introduced myself and explained that I’m the editor for Consortium Books. In the world of self-publishing, editors are more important than ever to add credibility to your work. Why? Let me tell you.

Unless you’re publishing your book to hold it in your hands, hug it, and then put in on a shelf to never let anyone see it ever again, an editor is crucial to the publishing process.

For starters, just letting people know that your book has been looked over by someone other than yourself or your friends lends a huge amount of respect to your work. The ability to hand over your work to another person shows that you have a lot of courage. It’s not easy to let go of your baby like that.

As both an author and an editor, I feel you. But you’ve taken the first step: you’re not afraid to receive criticism. And trust me, no matter how hard you try to please everybody, you will inevitably receive criticism. So it’s best to start now, with someone who is trying to help you.

What this action says to the rest of the world is that you’re humble enough to know that you’re not perfect. The more people learn, the more they realize that they don’t know. The converse of this is true, that a person who doesn’t know very much thinks he knows a lot. So a person who willingly turns his manuscript over for more feedback proves that he has learned just enough to know that he doesn’t know everything–even with regard to his own work.

In a practical sense, an editor provides a new set of eyes for your manuscript. You may have gone over your manuscript with a fine-tooth comb a dozen times and have the best grammatical knowledge in three counties, but trust me when I say that surged can still look like shrugged to you. The the fact of the matter is that your eyes skip over those redundant articles.

Not to mention that there are some things that you don’t realize need help because you’re too close to your work. I’ll admit that there were a few sentences in my own novel that slightly bugged me, but every time I saw them I just pushed that half-formed thought out of my mind and pressed on. It wasn’t until one of my editors pointed it out to me that I forced myself to really analyze and fix the problem.

And there may be some rules you don’t know, such as everyday only being a closed word when used as an adjective, or how when using words as words within a sentence, like everyday, they should be italicized. An editor gives you a fresh review for checking just these issues.

Ultimately, and most importantly, your editor gives you unbiased feedback. Your mom may have told you that she loved your book. And she probably did. I know that my mom loves everything that I write. That’s what moms are programmed to do. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that your book is ready for the rest of the world.

I am unabashedly the queen of harsh criticism. If I have a problem with a plot point in your manuscript, I will not hesitate to point it out. And if you ask author Aaron Pogue, he will tell you how mean I am about it, too.

But he can’t deny the fact that I’m right. When I edited his bestselling fantasy Taming Fire, I finished out the book with the comments, “Daven blacks out way too much, and it looks dumb for Isabella just to pop in at the end of the book.” I’m sure I made my arguments a little more persuasive, explaining that Daven looked like a weak MC (main character) and we had no character motivation for Isabella’s actions, but you get the idea.

A clue that I was going to grow up to be an editor.

Aaron listened to me. He took out some of Daven’s unconscious moments, and he mentioned Isabella earlier in the story for backstory. When he published his novel, some of his readers had the same feedback I did, wondering at Daven’s character and the romantic “arc” at the end of the book (If you haven’t read Aaron’s books yet, I’m sorry. You should probably stop reading this post and read them first. Not because I am spoiling anything, but because they are good books). They’re just minor criticisms, and I’m glad to know that I helped diminish them. If Aaron hadn’t taken my advice, his ending would have been less plausible, leading to fewer people wanting to finish his novel and pick up his next one.

You may not have noticed, but every book that the Consortium has published has come to me with countless errors. People often comment on a mistake they notice here or there, but what they don’t see is all the flaws that have already been noticed and corrected.

Our authors are awesome storytellers, and they know how to wield the English language into some powerful prose. But they still needed help, and so do you. And that’s why we editors are unsung heroes. We make you, the author, look good, and all we ask for in return is for you to listen to us.

*Disclaimer: if you find any errors in this blog post, it’s because I don’t have an editor.

Find out more about Jessie Sanders at her author website, and check out her novel, Into the Flames, in stores now!

Filed in Editorial | Tagged Aaron Pogue, Editing, self-publishing, The Dragonswarm | Comments Off

Pulp Ain’t Just in Oranges: Remaking a Synopsis into Promo Copy

By Joshua Unruh on Thursday, February 21, 2013

Last time I explained how unexpectedly good promotional copy caused me to be crowned King of Promotional Copy. (Kings and czars? I definitely have delusions of grandeur.)

This time, I’m going to tell you how a really good job making bad copy led to discovering the Consortium Formula for promotional copy. But before that, you have to understand what I was working on that turned out so poorly and how the kinds of books I read and write polished me into the senses-shattering copywriter I am today.

Taming Fire Burned Us

Before Aaron became a bestselling author of a fantasy trilogy, he was an author prepping to publish the book that would (unbeknownst to us) turn him into a bestselling author of a fantasy trilogy. Before we had any kind of Consortium Books process to measure it against, we wrote what we thought was some strong back-cover copy for Taming Fire. But while we were happy with it, something was tingling Aaron’s spidey-sense and, no matter how much we tinkered , he couldn’t shake that uneasy feeling. So I did a little instant-message-focus-group and ran it past some friends of mine who I know to be fantasy fans.

Turns out Aaron’s spidey-sense did indeed warn us of danger. None of them loved the copy.

They all had various reasons for this, but all their issues tied into extraneous details. These details that we thought added color and were integral to getting a feel for the novel either didn’t make sense outside the context of the novel, seemed to contradict each other, or diluted the most interesting bits.

We were deeply thankful to these guys because, not only did they help us with Taming Fire, but their feedback was the first step in realizing what we were doing right.

Pulp…And Not Just Caught In Your Teeth

See, when it comes to my books, I tend to get the promo copy right. I’ve been known to nail the promo copy of a novel before I’d even written one single word of it.

I didn’t ever set out to do this, not exactly. It’s just that when I fill out the Unstressed Syllables Tested-and-Approved Pre-Writing Package (patent pending), a synopsis is the second thing you do. And synopses should be pure plot-distilled-to-weaponized potency.

This isn’t hard for me because I typically write in a very neo-pulp style. Some of the stories I’ve written are teen girl agents in a spy-fi setting, a science-hero crime buster, a Viking god-killer, and a cowboy that fights demons and monsters.

Now, there are emotional aspects to each of these stories because one-dimensional characters are boring. But at the same time, these are definitely plot driven stories…just like old school pulp was. Lemme give you some examples.

Doc Savage fights John Sunlight over super weapons stored in the arctic.
The Spider has to stop a herd of rabid animals from destroying a town at the behest of a madman.
Texas Air Ranger Gerry Frost has to storm a floating fortress to bring in murderers and thieves.

Now that’s only three, but each is totally typical of the old pulp magazines. These are not emotionally fraught, claustrophobic, matches-arranging stories. They are plot thrown at you like lead from a .45. I’m happily drenched in this style.

At the time, I had shared a couple of my synopses with Aaron in his role as my writing coach. Every time I sent him one, he surprised me by greatly enjoying just the summary of the proposed novel. About the third or fourth time I did this to him, Aaron pointed out I had already written the promo copy for my books because that little snippet would totally make him read the book.

We’d weaponized the plot.

Laser Focus Nails It Down (And Other Mixed Metaphors)

Somewhere between the focus group and talking about my synopses, we hit the formula:

Promotional copy has to be about the plot and nothing but the plot.

Take the most exciting surface details of the plot. Then marry that with a few clever turns of phrase and/or clichés turned on their head.

Lastly, finish with the Story Question or the Story Question restated as an affirmation (ie, “Hero must save the girl!”). Stir it all up and bake it in the crucible of cruel people who are willing to tell you if it doesn’t work.

Lemme give you an example:

It’s the wedding of the century for world renowned crime buster Ajax Stewart and Shiarra, Queen of the Enigma Isles. But when Ajax’s archnemesis, Arkady Androvich, kidnaps the bride-to-be, Ajax is forced into a series of contests to prove his superiority to his old foe. Ajax and his heroic friends must now quest for something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue to save Shiarra’s life. Their travels will take them across the globe, to the bottom of the oceans, and to the end of time itself. Can even the Engineer of the Impossible outsmart the world’s maddest scientist and make it to the church on time?

Sounds exciting, right? Thrills, chills, and all that stuff. But I leave out all kinds of details that are really fun and interesting but would not, on their own merits, add reasons for a potential reader to check out the book. In fact, without the context of the story, a potential reader might find the details confusing.

Describe Your Product (Creative Writing Exercise)

This is key: I take the plot and boil it down to the most essential, most interesting elements. I don’t talk about how Arkady and Ajax used to be best friends but turned bitterest enemies in their teens. I don’t talk about how the Enigma Isles are a lost land where dinosaurs live. I don’t even talk about the Roaring Corsairs who are vicious air pirates and the crux of one of the contests.

All that stuff is probably at least as exciting as what made it into the final product, but it would take too much explanation to make it work for promo copy. Promo copy has to sing while also punching a potential reader in the face. It should also make that potential reader want the same singing and punching to happen for several hundred pages.

You can’t do that by putting in every single clever idea you came up with.

But it can be done! Most of you reading this have finished novels or works-in-progress, right? Give it a shot. Take one of your stories, maybe one you did without a pre-writing synopsis, and create some promo copy for it.

Try to distill its plot down to the simplest but hardest-hitting essentials, and then put it together in the cleverest package you can. Then show it to people who will be honest with you about it. If it doesn’t sing, try again until it does.

If you’re having trouble with this exercise, targeting a specific genre or category can help with the focus. In the coming weeks, I’ll give some advice on how to do that.

Find out more about Joshua Unruh at his author website, and check out his newest book, Saga of the Myth Reaver: Downfall, in stores now!

Filed in Sales | Tagged Aaron Pogue, Joshua Unruh, Platform and Promotion, promo copy, Taming Fire, weaponized plot | Comments Off

Re: Write – Richard’s Excerpt

By Thomas Beard on Wednesday, February 20, 2013

What follows is a short excerpt from a story. The author, “Richard,” generously donated his work to be edited before a live audience (you). At my request, he made no edits to it. He simply typed the words that came into his head and let them be once they were down. I then edited his work in the same manner that I would edit any other book.
This is an example of why rewriting is so crucial. The idea behind this scene is gripping and evocative. The phrasing of the scene holds it back from its true potential. By changing the word usage, Richard’s true intent for the scene can shine through.

—

Richard,

For this draft, the main focus has been phrasing and the efficacy of words. Always bear this law of writing in mind: “Never say with ten words what you can say with two.” By altering the phrasing of your writing, we can convey your scene more clearly and let the reader enjoy the images without being bogged down by words. Specifically, some of the edits I made include the following:

I turned passive phrases into active ones. For instance, I turned the phrase “a spear had already been thrust” into “one soldier thrust his spear.” This phrasing is more direct and exciting.
I cut out equivocating language and helping verbs. There’s no reason to say that a soldier “began sliding a slender sword” when you can say she “slid a slender sword,” or to say that splinters of wood “were sent scattering” when you can simply say they “scattered.” Again, more direct and exciting.
I removed some adjectives in favor of potent verbs. Adjectives are okay in moderation, but they’re never as impactful as a rightly chosen verb. You don’t need to say that the boys wailed loudly. You can just say that they wailed.
I removed some unnecessary detail. For instance, there’s no need to describe the steps the soldiers go through to ready their weapons. The audience only needs to know that they ready them.

With these changes to your phrasing, the reader can better grasp the scene as you imagine it, and they will care more about the town and the victims of whatever sickness is plaguing it.

~~Struck-through~~ text is a recommended deletion. Italicized text is marked for rephrasing. My direct additions to the text are in blue font, and my notes are in [bold with brackets].

—

[If your scene starts with someone speaking, show what they say. It’s a good way to pull readers into the action and introduce them to the characters.]

While Hannah tried to reach him with words, [Vague phrase. Use something simpler, like “called out to,” and be sure to include to whom. There are two males in this sentence.] Raeklin had already ~~gone~~ sprinted off after his brother. Because of the [whose?] considerable lead, he hadn’t the chance to ~~fully~~ grab ~~him~~ the youngling and drag ~~the youngling~~ him back to his work before he darted around the corner of a house ~~which blocked their view of~~ and into the open square. As soon as Raeklin turned, he saw Feran ~~standing still, completely~~ frozen in place. ~~Panting slightly from the quick run he’d speak after catching his breath,~~

Raeklin spoke as he caught his breath. “Hey. Come on, this is the least we can do for…them…” ~~his words trailed off as~~ He ~~finally~~ saw what stopped Feran.

One of ~~the~~ three riders stood talking to Father Lyrik ~~with~~ while the other two ~~standing~~ stood guard at the door to their [whose?] home. The door ~~to which~~ had been barred, and ~~the fellow~~ villagers were ~~being~~ kept from coming any closer. Both brothers moved at the same time~~, slowly moving~~ toward~~s all~~ the commotion. One of those trying to peek over the crowd was Brestle, who ~~happened to~~ noticed the boys and their bewildered looks. He came slowly to them ~~boys~~ and tried to place a hand on each of their shoulders. ~~but was quickly shirked~~ They shied away.

“Boys, boys! Now hold on! We’re not sure what’s going on yet and we need you to wait until the men from the Church have figured it out, all right?”

That ~~momentary~~ delay ~~only~~ gave Raeklin and Feran time to collect themselves for a desperate dash to their home. Raeklin used his strong shoulders to shove through the on-lookers[,] and Feran followed closely behind.

~~All at once~~ They were stopped again by the ~~armed men~~ riders, who could not be moved as easily as Brestle ~~had been~~. The ~~two~~ brothers struggled against them ~~men~~ for only a second before a loud shriek blasted [Awkward. Rephrase.] from within the hovel. ~~Any conversation immediately stopped and~~ The door started to jostle and pound. [There are better verbs, like shuddered. Or describe the blows on the door, how they thunder or ring out.]

~~Raeklin shouted,~~ “What’s happening to my parents?” Raeklin shouted.

The soldier speaking to Father Lyrik came walking swiftly to the other two and ~~began~~ slid~~ing~~ a slender sword from a plain scabbard. ~~Once the arm had been lowered again they could all see the~~ She had a sun-tanned face ~~of a strong woman with~~ and a narrow chin. Her eyes were a piercing green and the flame of her hair only intensified the ~~serious~~ composure she presented. ~~With her movements~~ Her comrades stepped to the side and ~~forcefully~~ shoved the two boys ~~in either direction~~ away before ~~pulling their axe and spear into a battle-ready stance~~ raising their own weapons.

Hannah only then managed to clear break through the crowd as the restraints on the door cracked and a thin, blood-soaked hand came reaching through. The ~~sounds of~~ screaming intensified as it the hand withdrew and another hard thud struck the door. It only took one more blow before splinters of wood ~~were sent~~ scattered to the ground and the door ~~breaking~~ broke from its frame. ~~In only a flash~~ The image of their mother flashed before them. ~~was displayed to them and~~ Before they could react, a one soldier thrust his spear ~~had already been thrust into~~ under her sternum, and the other ~~with~~ swung the wide top of ~~the~~ a broad axe ~~now pressing against~~ into her stomach.

~~Her children~~ The boys wailed ~~as loudly~~ as this specter of death ~~flailed~~ flung her arms forward, with the two men straining to hold her back ~~keep her in check~~.

[Who is speaking?] “I am Braena! Named Saint by the Holy Church! This, this is the result of the sickness.” Braena took a step to the side to allow everyone to see exactly what was happening. ~~No one’s jaw was kept from being open. All~~ The crowd stood ~~with~~ shocked ~~looks~~ as their friend, their neighbor, ~~woman who had been so docile~~ now stood with a spear through her heart ~~yet still struggled~~. Skin that ~~was~~ had once been delicate and luminous was now ~~seemed to be~~ a putrid shade of green and coated in a black mucus that seeped from the sores on her shriveled body ~~thin frame~~.