Blogger: Wendy Lawton
Yesterday Janet Grant blogged about how we need to be willing to take risk in publishing. I’ve always admired risk-takers— those people who put it all on the line and succeed beyond their wildest dreams. Of course we don’t often hear about those who put it all on the line and lost everything. But win or lose, risk-taking is the mark of confidence, of boldness, and we have to admire that.
But I’m going to talk about when it is important to tamp down that tendency to go for it at any cost. To color outside the lines. Yep. I want to make a case for coloring inside the lines.
So here’s when I think you need to color inside the lines:
—You are an unpublished writer seeking publication. Your book cannot be risky or too far off from what is now being published if you are a new writer. The publisher is already taking what they see as a risk on an unknown. It is far easier to get them to take that risk if they feel comfortable with your book and if the writing is superb. Your novel or your nonfiction book needs to be one they can already see on the shelves. Once you’ve got some real success under your belt you can branch out and be a little riskier but if you are at the beginning of your career, color within the lines. (And yes, I know you can give me a handful of anecdotes where this has not been the case but those were the exceptions. I’m talking about the rule.)
—You are meeting industry professionals for the first time. You may be a character, someone who’s bigger than life. You might be the life of every party but if you are meeting your publisher for the first time, be professional. I know this flies in the face of all those voices telling you to be yourself and that people need to accept you for who you are, but quirky and over-the-top can be scary to many an introvert. And the publishing industry is filled with introverts. Just saying.
—You are a writer seeking an agent. Same as above. We may tell you to be memorable but pushy or over-confident is a huge turn-off to an agent. We know we are going to be working with you for a long time. When we are considering representation, one of the questions we ask ourselves is: “Will I be happy to receive this writer’s phone calls or will I cringe when I see the number pop up on my caller ID?” I know this advice can be confusing. How can you be memorable and still be appropriate? You are remembered through your work and the kind, thoughtful way you interact with others.
—When you are speaking to a group of readers. Zany and off-beat is just as off-putting as cold and reticent. When you are speaking to readers remember that they are far more interested in your book and your characters or your subject than they are in you. Give them details. Give them new information. Help them fall in love with your book. And then, when they talk to you, focus on them. What is their story? If you truly care about them as an individual you’ll have done far more than writing a book to minister to them. It’s all about coloring inside the lines.
So, what have I missed? What are some other times it is important for you to color within the lines? Is it dishonest to conform when there is a non-conformist screaming to get out?
I don’t think I colour outside the lines, in fact I think my problem might be not even colouring to the lines. I’m a shy retiring type who doesn’t like to sell himself. That side of this is going to be a personal challenge.
I wanted to pick up on your comment regarding readers. I have first hand experience of readers being more interested in the book than the author. Years ago, whilst at university I was lucky enough to be one of about a dozen to get to have dinner with Terry Pratchett (it was his thing then to eat with students on his book tours. This was around 1992). Not only that, I had the huge honour of sitting next to him. I was really looking forward to meeting the man and getting to know a bit more about him. Alas, being the shy retiring type I didn’t get to maneuver the conversation. That was done by the enthusiastic others, but all they wanted to do was talk about the characters, some I hadn’t yet discovered as I hadn’t yet read all his, then, published books.
So yes, most fans aren’t interested in the person. At least the most vociferous aren’t.
Chris, I wonder if the desire to talk about characters isn’t a kind of apple-polishing, a desire to impress the Great Man with their knowledge of his work?
* I ran into that speaking at engineering conferences, where I kind of had a name for a few years as a pretty good presenter. The experience had two ‘streams’; there were those who wanted to show me how much they liked and knew my work, and those that wanted to prove I was an idiot. It might have been the ego-driven nature of academia, but the latter group was always in the majority. Or maybe I really WAS an idiot.
I don’t think so, Andrew. If you are a great writer, you make characters come alive. Readers are very wrapped up in these ongoing characters and care very much what you have planned for them. I’ve traveled to enough events with Lauraine Snelling to tell you that there is not an event at which someone doesn’t beg her to never let Ingeborg die on a page they will read.
Chris, I’d be among the ones wanting to talk about the books, not the author, so I think you’re probably right about the readers. I never visited any author’s website until I learned I have to create one to succeed as a published author.
Interesting real life example, Chris. I wouldn’t be too worried about being an introvert in this industry. Most of the people you meet will be your kindred spirits although a good many may seem extroverted. They’ve learned skills to connect but when they get alone, they crash and need to restore.
Our culture offers wide space between the lines. I’m not the navy business suit type (wool give me hives), but that doesn’t mean I show up in tattered jeans. I can juxtapose some unusual colors and still keep within the lines. Conforming doesn’t equal boring.
* I hope that my book pushes some traditionalists beyond their self-imposed boundaries on God. And I’d be delighted if some outside-the-lines folks found themselves stepping over their edges into a closer relationship with God.
Shirlee, I think your work will do just that. Your blog certainly does.
* I almost always wear shorts. Not because I’m a rebel, but because my legs were badly burned, and long pants hurt. I got tired of explaining, and eventually just learned to ignore the raised eyebrows…and so got a reputation for not really caring what people think of me.
* I don’t really care what people think of how I look…nothing’s going to make this sow’s ear into a silk purse, so worrying is stupid…but I don’t set out to rub people’s noses in it. That’s discourteous and ungentlemanly. I just did what circumstances forced.
* Well, I guess I could have worn kilts…
Wearing the Budek-Schmeisser tartan!
Och, aye, Shirlee!
No kilts unless you’re Scottish. The plaid needs to be your clan’s tartan as well. Mine’s McClellan.
There are a number of tartans that aren’t clan associated. For instance, every branch of the US military has its own tartan. There are also Irish kilts. However, as good as Andrew might look in a kilt, he might find the hose (wool socks) as uncomfortable as long pants, and no one should wear a kilt and sandals. 😉
I am actually adopted-by-blood as Armstrong, Carol, but Elissa is right about the hose. I did wear a kilt with hose ceremonially before I was wounded, but I think now it would be pretty tough..
For an iconoclast like you, Andrew, a kilt and sandals sounds perfectly fine, especially in New Mexico. Fashion independence is truly characteristic of this state. I always found conferences in the East Coast cities where one was supposed to adopt proper business attire too constraining. The great thing about engineers and scientists was that I could wear the same navy suit jacket and dark, patterned skirts with bright highlights for years and no one noticed.
Carol, when I wore very loose cargo shorts to academic conferences, people would give me a very slow once-over, and when they were done I would sometimes ask “See anything y’all like?”
* Saying this in a slightly exaggerated singsong Cantonese accent (which works better than Mongolian; English is not my native language anyway) would generally result in a quick-step, backwards…and if properly timed, into a waiter carrying a drink tray.
* Yeah. I was one mean Chinaman.
You said, “Conforming doesn’t equal boring.” I’m so glad you said this Shirlee. I should have said it. It is so true!
Right now, my contracted cozy mysteries are part of a book club series, many of whose parameters are set by my publisher. The old hippie in me rebels, of course. But in doing so, I’ve learned much about writing craft. Plus, such parameters can foster creativity in that I must work harder and think more imaginatively to flavor my books with something besides the status quo. Though my talents can’t begin to compare with great authors of the past, I take my cue from them, whose great works of literature often were created within very rigid boundaries, i.e., sonnets. I agree with you, Shirlee. “Conforming doesn’t equal boring.” Great quote.
Coloring within the lines can be very pretty–and imaginative.
Rachael, your ‘old hippie’ tag really stuck with me. No one would remotely think I’d ever been a hippie, but I have more than a little bit of sympathy for those kids who were facing a world that seemed to be going mad around them, and for whom rebellion seemed to be the only defense.
* And then it was over, and the world passed them by. The wave crested, and they were left in a sadly quiet backwash, which may be the fate of many iconoclasts.
* The Bellamy Brothers sang it quite well and this song has haunted me for years, for my life too has prepared me for a world in which I simply don’t fit.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzdvQOXxRD4
So true, Rachael! One thing I learned about myself is that I love to exercise my creativity within parameters set by someone else. It’s a challenge I love. I loved taking an historical house and restoring it, knowing there was much I couldn’t change because of it’s historicity. I’d look at a project and think, “Okay this the given, now what can I do?”
And that, Wendy, is exactly why there are traces of whitewash in the hand-hewn beams of our home. Some friends thought we should sandblast the beams, but I like to look up from my couch and think, “cows were milked here.”
Yes, this is a process. Several years ago, my husband let my girls color underneath our dining room table with markers. There was a time I would have gasped at that. It took time for me to get to that point. It took every dime we had to purchase a table in those initial years. I did all I could to protect it. But after years of being careful and after years of waiting for children, I encountered the appropriate time to step over that line … in freedom. Color on the underneath side … making memories. And even that could be considered coloring inside the lines because it wasn’t noticeable. 🙂 Because I’m a conformist by nature. It usually takes someone taking my hand and dragging me over an occasional line. And all the while I’m shaking my head, biting my nail, and thinking: I’m going to get in trouble. 🙂
Shelli, you made me smile. I know why I like you so much. I tend to be a conformist too. It’s when I have someone who nudges (or pushes, or sometimes kicks) me over the lines that helps unleash a new creativity ( like coloring under the table).
*May we both grow in confidence and boldness to color right up to the edges and maybe try colors we’ve never used before. 🙂
Jeanne … yes. And you know, even writing stories with an inspirational romance is coloring outside the lines for me. 🙂 That’s a brighter pink than I’ve ever tried before. 🙂 But … it’s really pretty.
Stick with me, kid. *I* would never get you in trouble.
Nope.
Never.
Ha ha! I’ll be smiling and laughing through it, that’s for sure! 🙂
I love that. And of course by having that hidden artwork you know you can never replace that table. Or, perhaps someday you’ll have the most intriguing piece of artwork hung on you walls.
Shelli, your story reminds me of our little condo in Chicago. I hated the wallpaper. Heading past it on my way out to buy groceries, I said, “For two cents I’d tear off that paper.” I came home to two pennies on the table and shocking words on the wall. The previous owners let their children “decorate” before they papered. It wasn’t the hallway greeting my seminary student husband had in mind for his two cents.
Great analogy, Wendy. As others have mentioned, I tend to be a color-inside-the-lines kind of gal. And sometimes, I don’t color right up to the edges because I don’t want to disqualify myself by going outside those thick, black lines.
*Another time I think we need to color inside the lines is in query letters and proposals. Especially for unpublished writers, when we want an agent/editor to consider our work, we need to adhere to the way they prefer to receive such communications. If we are “creative” in how we structure or write these professional documents up, we could very well end up with our inquiries set aside rather than considered.
Yes! If you could see some of the outside the lines queries I’ve received. I blush to even think of them. Yes they were memorable. No I would never represent that person, not for all the advance money in the world.
Wendy, in a “let-it-all-hang-out” culture, you’ve given us a very important post.
* When David Stirling formed the nascent SAS, he selected the best soldiers from the best regiments he could possibly find. Not because performance on the drill square made for a good unconventional operator, but because the willingness to excel at square-bashing informed the attitude needed to prevail under the most adverse circumstances. To find a good unconventional soldier, it is indeed best to start with an exemplary conventional one.
* To more thoroughly look at ‘why’, let’s turn to the somewhat less belligerent word of painting, and bring Claude Monet and J.M.W. Turner to join the discussion. Both were academically-trained; both eventually turned to styles that puzzled their friends and shocked, nee outraged, critics. But when you look at Monet’s iconic “Impression: Sunrise”, what you do NOT see is a hasty, slapdash I-must-catch-the-fleeting-moment plein air sketch, delivered still-wet to the exhibition.
* En plein air it was painted, but Monet had a sure understanding of composition, drawing, chiaroscuro, and the interaction of colours (along with the technical specifics of pigments). He built his impressionism not upon an iconoclastic emotionalism, but with the tools whose use he’d learned over years of effort. (And Monet finished virtually all of his plein air work in the studio, under conditions that were not only controlled, but were also similar to the lighting under which they’d be viewed.)
* Similarly, Turner also worked with an earned genius. At one exhibition, in the days when painters were allowed to work on their pictures when already hung, up to the day of judging, his entry was hung next to one of Constable’s works. Turner had entered a seascape, of mainly greys, greens, and blues, while Constable has given the world a shimmering English spring.
* On the morning of judging, in the last hours when work was allowed, Turner came in with his paintbox and placed a red buoy on a roiling wave, which so dramatically changed and focused his entry that Constable was moved to say, “He has been here, and fired a gun.”
* In composing this comment, one thing from my initial sentence has been troubling me…in the phrase “let it all hang out”…what’s IT? Or is this something best not considered over breakfast?
If I may, a PS on Turner –
* In the aforementioned exhibition in which he upstaged Constable, there’s an open question…did he intend for the buoy to be there, and only add it in a gesture of showmanship? Or did he react to the context in which the painting would be viewed.
* Ruskin, perhaps his only real friend, thought it was the latter, as the seascape was marvellous in its own right. Turner simply saw that to shine in (and, yes, dominate) its setting, more was needed. (And it was said that the ‘more’ metaphorically came from a painting of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, from which a hot coal came bounding out of the Fiery Furnace and landed in Turner’s sea.)
* Another Turnerism, and I’m done…the painter was working on a view of the Thames at Mortlake Terrace, as seen from a path with a low wall, and a friend came by his studio, and said, “This needs focus.”
* Whereupon the friend cut the silhouette of a dog from black paper, and placed it, frolicking, on the wall.
* Turner might have been expected to set upon the interloped with palette knife, but no…he merely smoothed out the dog, and fixed it in place…and if you visit the Tate Gallery in London, please say hi to the dog for me, for he’s still there.
http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/turner-the-thames-at-mortlake-t04787
I love these stories, Andrew. You amaze me with your breadth of knowledge across so many disciplines. (And, of course, I loved the art examples.)
I want to know exactly where the lines are. Give me the exact location. That way, when I need to be a grown-up, I can step it up and be really good at it.
BUT??? When I don’t need to be a grown-up?
WHOA, I am REALLY good at that, too!!!
Basically, in certain situations, my goal is a complete lack of law enforcement activity. Especially in foreign countries, writer conferences, and agent meetings.
This is the part in the story where all the Texans and Southerners whisper “Bless her heart.”
Seriously though, I know when to hold ’em, and I know when to fold ’em.
I love you just like you are. Whether you’re holdin’ ’em or foldin’ ’em! You bring laughter and joy … you bring it. 🙂 But yeah, I so want to know the lines, too … because I don’t want to embarrass myself. Don’t let me embarrass myself … 😉
You absolutely do. You are a great example of appropriately colorful. And unforgettable.
Thank you.
Honestly, all that colourful and unforgettable-ness left Awkwardland and came to land exactly where God wanted it to land when I found this blog, met this community and finally FINALLY, found my calling.
I truly do not know where I’d be now if I hadn’t listened to God’s NUDGE and started writing. And if I hadn’t been blessed with such a treasure in Mary Keeley, and the Books and Such family.
I am completely aware of my level of blessing to be a part of this family.
Wendy, this post has really been food for thought…and I wonder if one more category of when not to colour outside the lines…
* When one is an established writer with a modestly flourishing career, it’s important not to colour outside the lines because you might succeed, and that success will own you.
* I think that’s what happened to Richard Bach, with Jonathan Livingston Seagull. He’d been a well-respected aviation writer with a gift for lyrical descriptive prose…and then JSL changed everything. He suddenly had a huge following eagerly awaiting the next revelation from their new guru.
* He did well with Illusions, and then stumbled with the JSL remix “There’s No Such Place As Far Away”. It was so short you could read it while standing in the bookstore, and so bad that you wondered why you’d bothered.
* Bach’s personal life suffered (as you can read in “The Bridge Across Forever”, his memoir of the time) and he never came out from under Jonathan’s shadow, not really. His most recent book, “Adventures With Puff”, is his story of a flight across America in a very small aeroplane, and reaches back to his roots in a way that’s touching…and makes one wonder what was lost is the JSL-driven forays into mysticism and the Structure Of The Soul.
* I guess the moral is the ancient Greek adage, “When the gods plan to destroy a man, they give him what he wants.”
Hmmm, that’s certainly food for thought. Of course, the question is, if you create one book that touches people’s hearts, is that enough? It was for Harper Lee (until this debacle played on an elderly mind).
This is solid advice and should be common sense. The writing should shine and the author’s public persona should be confident, kind, and professional–not stand up comedian or vaudeville actor.
Exactly!! Common sense!!
I don’t come barrel racing into a room of people I don’t know. I ALWAYS enter a new environment with as much professionalism as possible. If one chooses to arrive with a party mentality, that is a sure fire way to get noticed for all the wrong reasons. If any sort of serious repercussion is on the line, always err on the side of maturity and wisdom.
I was surprised the first time I met you, Jennifer at how shy you seemed. You were all about making others stand out.
Wendy, I actually am quite shy, for the most part. When I’m comfortable and with my peeps, look-out. But in an environment in which I am completely out of my league? I read the room as long as I can. Then find a way either out, or up to the microphone.
The Latin phrase for this phenomenon is “fraidy-cat”.
You said it succinctly and clearly. That’s a great example of a hook, Hannah. It took me 500 some words to say what you said in two concise sentences. Brava!
Great post, Wendy, and I agree completely with Hannah: this should be common sense. Another time to color within the lines is when working with your first editor after you’ve sold your first book. That can fall under your first point – unpublished writer seeking publication. But just because you have a contract doesn’t mean you can go wild and let it all hang out. Continue to build the professional relationship. Arguing with every edit won’t accomplish that.
Oh, Meghan, I could tell you stories. So many careers have died on the altar of assertiveness and entitlement. When a writer goes into each step as a learner and a team member, you can tackle the hard stuff and still keep all the relationships intact.
Sage advice, Wendy. Food for thought. Risk must be measured. Presentation matters. First impressions matter. And message has a lot to do with timing. It takes awhile to line this all up at times.
Early on in my writing journey I read that people read the blogs that offer something of value, those blogs with content that is useful and helpful. That’s what this blog offers to us. In a way, books do the same for us, in particular nonfiction writings. What matters, though, is how the material is presented. If it is a long, slow slog to the end, that reduces the pleasure. As a writer, the writing itself is one risk I can control by writing well. Being in tune with the industry makes sense. Point well-taken. We may have to pull back in some ways and enhance our offering in other ways. Thanks.
THIS is sage advice: “Risk must be measured. Presentation matters. First impressions matter. And message has a lot to do with timing. It takes awhile to line this all up at times.” Thank you, Norma.
I might be in trouble! I try, but I never seem to know where those lines are. Why are they so easy for some people to see and so invisible to others?
Are you talking about “lines” in the manuscript for CBA? That’s a hard one because there are no written rules and each publisher has a little bit different outlook.
The key is to read, read, read. Read in order to know what a Tyndale book is like vs. what a Harper Collins Christian Publishing book looks like, for instance. If this is going to be your publishing home, get to know the players. Start taking notes, even when you read for pleasure.
Wendy, most of what you’re describing is a special kind of staying within the lines – one about relating to people. No matter what you’re doing, being sensitive to how your words and actions affect them emotionally is a good thing. Holding their needs in your consciousness is always a plus. The best pronoun is “us,” not “me.”
*Working in research, I was paid to be constantly pushing the envelope. When someone says it’s not possible to do something, my gut response is, “Why?” But innovation is only considered great if it is successful. You start out within the rules, and then move beyond them, testing the success as you go. What you describe is roughly parallel.
*But I do have one question. What we write is supposed to be unique to gain attention, but writing something that is so much like what they already publish that they are comfortable with it seems likely to make it “just one more (fill in the blank)” that isn’t worth their time. How does one find the right balance? Is it better to be a bit too unique than not unique enough?
Great question, Carol. It all depends in what areas you are “too unique.” In fiction, we don’t want to see the same tropes, the same plot lines resurrected and brushed off with the addition of a different setting and new characters. We long for something new.
The lines exist at the edges of the envelope writers seem to want to push. More sex, more violence, more contemporary issues is a lazy way to try to be different. You can be unique in the way you deliver the story, in the characters you create, in the world you build and the things they struggle with.
It can be important to color inside the lines when writing for a certain line. I write inspirational romance for Love Inspired Historical. LIH readers expect the stories in the three Love Inspired lines to deliver certain elements and not to stray very far from them. I’m learning what is acceptable in LIH and what isn’t. If I want to continue to publish with them, which I do, it’s important for me to learn the parameters. That doesn’t mean I can’t see how far I can stretch them as I exercise my creativity, but I know that if I go too far, I won’t be offered a contract (which has happened), or I will have extensive revisions (which has also happened).
Excellent example, Keli, You are much like television script writers. The viewers expect a certain rhythm to the show and rebel when it is turned on its head.
I’ve always laughed when I see something out-of-the-box appear on a television show– a dream sequence or a compilation of past scenes to create a new episode. It’s usually a sign that the writer are out of ideas and this will be the last series.
Wendy, I can’t think of anything to add. My mind latched onto this: “If you truly care about them as an individual you’ll have done far more than writing a book to minister to them.” Yes—I love this!
I think it also applies to how we treat other writers, agents, editors, and publishers. And there’s no better way to care for others than to pray for their success, even if it has no personal benefit other than being able to anonymously rejoice and praise God with them.
Blessings ~ Wendy Mac
Exactly, Wendy Mac! Christians talk and talk about finding their calling but it’s really so clear if we read the Bible. We are called to love people.