Musicians often limber up by playing music different from what they’re used to. It keeps them fresh, gives them a new perspective on what they’re doing. Novelists can do the same thing–limber up by trying different forms of storytelling.

I’ve recently done this, and enjoyed it immensely. Here’s what I tried and how I felt about each.

Flash fiction. These are very short stories, usually 500 words (around two double-spaced pages) or less. It’s extremely challenging to find a small gem of an idea and develop it in so few words. It’s also a good exercise in boiling a story down to its essence. Here are two of the stories I came up with:

A Good Judge of Character

Rendezvous

I wrote suspense/mystery flash stories because that’s what my novels are, but I plan to leave my comfort zone and try other kinds of flash fiction as well.

Screenplays. I recently collaborated with producer/director Billy Tooma, owner of Icon Independent Films, on Seeking Nirvana, a screenplay about the rocky relationship between a literary agent and his top client, a brilliant young novelist. I learned a lot writing this screenplay. First of all, the dialogue I’m used to writing in my novels doesn’t fly in a screenplay. Less is more, and I learned to my surprise that in a movie, more is said with action than with dialogue. My dialogue was stagey and too long. I also tried to learn but still haven’t mastered screenplay format. It’s (to my mind) incredibly complicated, and it hampered my creativity enough so that when I wrote the first draft of the screenplay, I used my own simplified format. Obviously, since a film is completely visual, there’s none of the interior stuff we’re used to putting in our novels. It’s all exterior, and you have to find new ways of saying things and getting information to the viewer. One unexpected bonus was that I got to appear in the film. Watch for me–I’m Harvey Kramm, a desperate author trying to get the agent to represent him!

Plays. Play format is far easier than screenplay format, refreshingly simple. There’s far less stage direction, so that you’re working almost entirely with dialogue. Extremely challenging. Less is more–leave a lot to the director’s interpretation. I wrote a mystery/suspense play (again, within my comfort zone) called The Station, and to my amazement it was accepted by a one-act festival for this summer. I couldn’t be more excited . . . and I’m already noodling with a new idea for another one-act. If you’re in North Jersey, come to a performance in late July/early August and say hello!

Have you tried limbering up by venturing into a new storytelling form? The results can be gratifying and exciting.

This is the first part of the Coaching Call held in October, providing some insider secrets, tips and ideas for getting your novel published.

This podcast covers why a sharp focus on genre is more important than ever to publishers, and what you can do about it. Other topics include:

• How to give your manuscript a special edge that will grab an editor’s attention.
• The key to finishing a dynamite story.
• Selling in the current market: what’s hot, what’s not, how to position your novel.
• Secret methods for submitting your manuscript that publishers don’t tell you.

A Special Report

All we hear nowadays is that publishers won’t look at unagented material anymore; the legendary slush pile is dead.

But it’s not true! Even if you don’t have an agent (and these days it’s harder than ever to get one), if your novel is completed you can start submitting right now. A number of publishers are not only willing to consider material submitted directly by authors; they’re actively looking and find many or all of the books they publish in this way. Why do some publishers perpetuate the myth that a novelist must submit through an agent? Perhaps because they know that if word gets out, they’ll be flooded. Perhaps that’s why their submission guidelines are often so well hidden on their Web sites.

Martha Jewett (my coauthor on The Marshall Plan® Novel Writing Software) and I have prepared a Special Report that lists these publishers, the categories in which they’re currently acquiring full-length fiction, and links to their author guidelines. We are constantly updating this list, so you may want to download it periodically to get the latest information. Just return to this blog and click on the link above.

October 4, 9 PM EST

You’re invited to a special writer’s coaching call on Sunday evening, October 4 at 9 p.m. EST. This is a chance to pick up some insider secrets, tips and ideas for getting your novel published.

We will talk about why a sharp focus on genre is more important than ever to publishers–and what you can do about it. Other topics include:

• How to give your manuscript a special edge that will grab an editor’s attention.
• The key to finishing a dynamite story.
• Selling in the current market: what’s hot, what’s not, how to position your novel.
• Secret methods for submitting your manuscript that publishers don’t tell you.

You’ll also have a chance to ask your burning questions about writing, literary agents, publishers, etc. We’re not sure how long it will last but we’re thinking about an hour, but it might be longer if there are a lot of questions.

The call is free, but space is limited. You just pay for your normal long distance charges. When you register below, we’ll send the phone number in a follow up email.

If you can’t make it, no problem. If you’re registered for the call, you can access a link so you can download it and listen anytime you want.

To register, provide your info below and include a question you would like us to cover on the call . . .

A common writer’s complaint in recent years is that editors no longer edit. That’s by no means true, but it is true that many editors are not able to devote the time to improving a manuscript that they once could. Today, many editors are more like marketers, concentrating first on acquiring books that will make money.

For this reason, editors often tell me they’re looking for manuscripts that are “ready to go.” And there are enough writers out there who know how to self-edit and polish their manuscripts that these editors are getting what they want.

Are you one of these writers who know how to be their own editors? You’d better be, or your chances of selling your novel are markedly decreased. In case you need some pointers, here are the most important points to watch for as you make your manuscript “ready to go.”

1. Does time track correctly in your story? Make a table showing when sections take place. Have you given characters enough time to get from one place to another? It’s a common problem.
2. Use adverbs sparingly. Delete unnecessary ones, and certainly delete strings of them.
3. Delete unnecessary details. Not: He opened the cupboard, took out a can of beans, opened the drawer, took out the can opener, and opened the can of beans. But: He opened a can of beans.
4. Use adjectives sparingly–one at a time, never a string of them, if you must use them at all. Often an adjective is strengthening a weak noun. Choose a more accurate noun.
5. Know that very is one of the weakest of adjectives.  In almost all cases you can strengthen a sentence by removing it.
6. Scrutinize every description. Is it too long? Do we need it at all?
7. Be specific. Not just a dog; a collie or a toy poodle or whatever it is.
8. Spare us the weather reports. If the weather matters, describe it quickly and move on.
9. Focus on details, which add realism like nothing else. Not: The subway station was shabby.  But: Near the edge of the platform, a man with knotted hair held out a Dixie cup to no one in particular.
10. Don’t describe what doesn’t need describing. We all know what certain things look like. Describe an object only if it differs from what we’d expect.
11. Use the five senses when you can, though not all at once.  Characters don’t just see and hear; they feel, smell, and taste, too.
12. Think of walk-on characters (the cab driver, the waiter, the bank teller) as furniture.  They almost never need describing.
13. Describe only what’s essential to what’s happening.  If a character walks down a hallway, we don’t need a description of the wallpaper.
14. Write in the positive. Not: There was no light in the hall. But: The hall was dark.
15. Delete redundancies. Past history. The sky above. Continued on. Hung down.
16. Often you can delete that.  Not: Emily knew that the clinic opened at eight.  But: Emily knew the clinic opened at eight.
17. Clean out qualifiers like a bit, a little, fairly, highly, just, kind of, mostly, pretty, quite, rather, really, slightly, so, somewhat, sort of. Like very, they’re all weakeners, almost always unnecessary.
18. Cut unnecessary articles (a/an, the) for stronger impact. Not: A sadness washed over her.  But: Sadness washed over her.
19. Often you can cut of.  Change students of the college to college students; members of the club to club members.
20. Don’t use the fact that. Not: The fact that Professor Jones was sick made it impossible for Emma to ask him her questions.  But: Because Professor Jones was sick, Emma couldn’t ask him her questions.
21. Cut unnecessary words.  Not: The smile on his face. (Where else would it be?) But: His smile.
22. When describing acts of looking, use gaze rather than eyes to avoid unintentional hilarity.  Not: His eyes traveled around the room. But: His gaze traveled around the room.
23. Cut began to or started to unless you’re describing a character truly starting a task or activity. Not: She began to laugh. But: She laughed.
24. To avoid confusion, refer to each of your characters the same way every time.
25. Have you overused characters’ names? If you’re writing a section containing only a male character and a female character, use the names once at the beginning and then switch to he and she, perhaps using their names occasionally. If your section contains more characters and you must differentiate them using their names, you can still use a character’s name at the beginning of a paragraph about him, then switch to either he or she.
26. Seek and destroy clichés: butter-soft leather, a mighty oak, a trusted servant.
27. To show habitual action, use the past tense rather than would.  Not:  Each morning he would walk to the Y and swim twenty laps.  But:  Each morning he walked to the Y and swam twenty laps.
28. Watch it, which should replace the noun that immediately precedes it. Not: He took an apple from the refrigerator and ate it. (Ouch.) But: He rummaged in the refrigerator, found an apple, and ate it.
29. Don’t use the weakeners appeared to or seemed to. Not: The road appeared to waver in the intense heat.  But:  The road wavered in the intense heat.
30. Watch for and remove inadvertent rhyme.
31. Watch for misplaced modifiers. Not: She lay on the bed beside him. But: She lay beside him on the bed.
32. Watch for introductory participles that don’t modify the subject of the sentence–an error that slips past most editors. Examples: Leaving the village, the mountains glowed red in the sun.  Opening the closet door, the cat sprang from the shadows.
33. Don’t use hopefully. Not: Hopefully we’ll win the lottery. But: I hope we win the lottery.
34. Watch for Morse Code:  too many dots and dashes in dialogue, favored by beginners. Do you really need so many unfinished sentences trailing off in ellipses? Complete as many of these sentences as you can.
35. Restrict your use of the intrusive exclamation point. Understatement is best. Not: The bull charged straight toward her! But: The bull charged straight toward her.
36. Avoid long, blocklike paragraphs. Break them up whenever possible.
37. Watch your pronouns, which must agree with their antecedents. Never use they or their when you want to refer to either a male or a female. Though many people use this construction, it’s wrong. Not:  Every student knows they can come to me for help.  But:  Every student knows he or she can come to me for help. But this is cumbersome. Often it’s easiest to rewrite the sentence in the plural: Students know they can come to me for help.

Read through your manuscript with these tips in mind. I guarantee you’ll make some improvements that will increase your chances of a sale.

1. Agents and editors must be able to categorize your novel, so make sure you know what genre it fits into: romance, literary, mainstream, horror . . . ?
2. Today’s novels are more like movies than ever: your story must have a compelling “high-concept” hook. Work hard to make sure your story idea is dramatic and original.
3. Your story’s lead must be a sympathetic character. To achieve this end, build in four key characteristics: courage, virtue, likability, competence.
4. Your lead’s opposition must be as convinced of the rightness of his goal as your lead is of his. Moreover, your opposition needn’t necessarily be a bad or evil person.
5. Agents and editors may reject your novel simply because it’s the wrong length for its genre. Target the right word length for your manuscript.
6. To round out your lead and give your story complexity, give your lead a subplot—a smaller goal to pursue as she pursues the main story goal.
7. Readers love surprises. Build in three crucial ones at the correct points in your story: at the one-quarter mark, in the middle, and at the three-quarter mark.
8. When plotting the end of your story, resolve your least important story lines first, then your lead’s story line, and last of all the romantic story line if you have one.
9. Every section of your novel must have a designated section character from whose viewpoint that section is written. Use viewpoint writing for all of your novel’s sections.
10. Virtually all of your novel should be written in action mode, in which you show events just as they occur. Use summary mode only to: connect sections, report mundane events, telescope time in which no important story action occurs, focus on emotion rather than action.

In my years working as an editor, agent, packager, and novelist, I’ve noticed that other novelists often give in to certain instincts when they’re writing—Instincts that work to the detriment of their fiction. If you’re aware of these instinctive weakeners, you’ll more likely be able to avoid them. Here are the three worst offenders:

INSTINCTIVE HABIT #1: Beginning a section with a character awakening or going to sleep.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read sections (in my book THE MARSHALL PLAN FOR NOVEL WRITING, I refer to the block of text that has traditionally been called a scene a “section”) that begin with the alarm clock going off or the phone jangling. (Why do phones always “jangle”?) Starting a section this way is a bad idea because a section shouldn’t begin when the day starts; it should begin with its viewpoint character beginning his or her pursuit of THIS SECTION’S GOAL.

In some writers’ defense, we do sometimes see a novel beginning with that phone jangling, and the call is from someone telling the awakening character that something awful has happened. This kind of phone jangling is better because it presents the crisis that should begin any novel . . . but it’s still a cliché and should be avoided.

Why is showing a character going to sleep at the end of a section just as bad? Because sections shouldn’t end with a character ending his or her day; they should end with a character meeting failure at the end of his or her pursuit of the section goal. I suppose that if your character’s section goal is to make peace with his spouse, but all he succeeds in doing is making matters worse between them, then going to sleep on this note is all right. But that’s really the only way such a section ender is acceptable.

INSTINCTIVE HABIT #2: Starting a section with a weather report.

How many times have we read in published books, “The sky was a purple-and-gold tapestry as Marjorie got into her car . . .” or “The rain had let up when Bill emerged from his office . . .”? Delivering weather reports is one of those habits writers seem to fall into naturally—Instinctively. Perhaps weather reports feel “writerly”; I’m reminded of Snoopy’s “It was a dark and stormy night.”

Well, the weather doesn’t matter anywhere near as much as your PEOPLE do. Many readers would say the weather doesn’t matter at all. I myself, when reading a novel, skip weather reports in my eagerness to get back to the characters I care about. So start a section with the person you’ll be telling us about. Do it in the first sentence: “Bill rounded the corner of Prescott Avenue and saw the inn standing cold and alone on the corner of the park.” THEN, to let your reader know how things look in general, you may give us a report on the sky or the weather, but do it using action, and do it only if those aspects of the character’s world have changed. For example, to use description of the weather in action, you might say, “The inn cast a black shadow in the deepening twilight.” But if nothing about the weather has changed, don’t tell us about it at all. We’ll assume everything’s the same.

INSTINCTIVE HABIT #3: Pulling punches when describing confrontations.

So often, even in the work of published writers, I find that when it comes time to describe an especially unpleasant confrontation between two characters, the writer pulls back. He or she may suddenly lapse into summary mode instead of giving us a play-by-play of the action, or not milk the clashing for all it’s worth. Some writers will even contrive to have the confrontation happen OFF STAGE, and tell us about it afterward, through conversation or through a character’s thoughts.

These are all bad ideas. Readers read for those confrontations and that unpleasantness. They WANT to be a fly on the wall during those conflicts and clashes, so to pull your punches here is to cheat your readers.

Why do writers fall into this habit. I strongly believe, based on my experience with hundreds of novelists, that the writers who give in to this habit dislike conflict in their own lives and tend to avoid it. So it’s perfectly natural that they would try, consciously or not, to avoid it in their writing.

Think about your own nature. Are you a person who avoids “unpleasantness” or important confrontations? Do you avoid raising painful issues with people you care about? If you’re one of these people, you know it, and you’ll have to make a special effort not to do this in your fiction writing. If you’ll forgive me for saying so, you’ll be better off if you make an effort not to avoid important confrontations in your life as well.

But that’s really none of my business.

Be aware of these three instinctive bad habits all writers tend to fall into at some time or other. By consciously avoiding them, you’ll measurably improve your writing.