Defending My Manuscript

I just read this and loved it.  So I'm quoting it in its entirety:

One of the first things I've had to tell anyone I critique or anyone in any critique group I've ever been in, or when I was working my way through school as a writing tutor, was "Do not defend your manuscript."

Unless you plan to stand over the shoulder of everyone reading your book and explain to them what you meant to write, you'd be better off just writing what you meant to write. I hate it when I tell someone "This isn't working" and she comes back with five minutes explaining to me why it should work, why I'm too stupid to understand the great art she was striving to achieve, and how unenlightened I must be (and, I'd note, everyone else).

In one of my writing classes in college, the professor imposed a "cone of silence" on the person whose story was being critiqued in order to prevent exactly this because while defending, we're not listening.

It was written by Philangelus, as a comment in response to a posting on a wonderful blog written by a literary agent (which is a wonderful read in its own right.)

Yesterday I had coffee with my friend and critique partner Renee, who had in one hand the latest chapter of my manuscript, and in the other hand a stack of blank paper and a pen.  Turns out she thought my chapter needed work, and of course she was right.  I'm great at writing dialog, and not so great at writing description.  So, scene by scene, she took me through the chapter, making me close my eyes and envision the scene, and then talk to her about what I was seeing, hearing, or smelling.  Then she would make me open my eyes and write it down.

Thanks to Renee's persistence, that chapter is going to be much better.  But I'll bet it took five minutes for her to bulldoze through my defensiveness before I was ready to get down to work.  The funny thing is that at no point during that five minutes did I think she was wrong.  It's just that it's very intimidating to have to face that the chapter that I thought was pretty good needed some serious reworking. 

Then I read the excerpt that I quoted up above.  I think I may try the cone of silence the next time someone is critiquing my story, and make sure I'm really listening.  I'm curious to see whether that works.

More on Writing Love Scenes

I just read an old romance novel, something my friend Gail found in a box in her garage. It was terribly dated, which is another way of saying that it was terrible. But it was also terribly interesting, because of the glimpses it gave into life only a few decades ago.

The hero was mean and rude, and was always complaining. He also had anger-management and control issues. I'm no psychologist, but this guy had some serious, diagnosable problems. I think he was supposed to seem sexy, powerful, masterful, and attractively remote. Yeah, right.

The heroine described herself as "liberated," because she attended college, and had friends who had chosen to sleep with their boyfriends. She had not, of course. Much was made of her innocence. Then she quit college to get married without the slightest hesitation.

In the course of the story, the hero treated the heroine very badly. She reacted by apologizing, and trying to learn to be better at accepting and loving him. Eventually, an improbable set of circumstances led them to get married, despite the fact that neither of them wanted to. And then, on their wedding night, they finally consummated the relationship, in a scene that takes place entirely on a blank line.

I was incredulous. The only sex in the book was implied. The ideals for male and female behavior have clearly changed in three decades. But so, apparently, has the appetite for sex scenes in romance novels. The characters were on the bed. They kissed. Then he parted her robe. Then there was a blank line. And then it was morning. They woke up happy. They kissed a little. Then there was a blank line. Then they ate a late breakfast.

I was so envious. It would be so easy to write a sex scene if the only thing I had to do was press the Enter key twice. It almost made me wish I were back in that decade. Not really.

On Writing Love Scenes

Well, the writing is going well, which is a good thing. I've hit my stride with the novel I'm working on, and I've been steadily producing. But it means that sooner, rather than later, I'm going to have to write a sex scene. (Actually, we romance authors prefer to call them 'love scenes.') And that is terrifying.

My friend Shelly gave me a book called The Joy of Writing Sex. It's a wonderful read.  The author interviewed a whole lot of authors of literary fiction to find out their approaches to writing sex scenes. One of the questions she asked was how they dealt with the thought of critics while they wrote, particularly critics that they know, such as their grandmothers, or parents, or lovers.

One author responded that he didn't produce most of his best work until after his parents died.  Another said she asked her parents not to read one of her books. She said that her father agreed, but her mother didn't.  But her mother did agree never to speak of it.  Another said that his mother was devoutly religious, and offended by explicit sex scenes, but very supportive of him.  She read his books, but when it looked like a sex scene was approaching, she just skipped ahead. 

Another author said that you can't think about the reader when you write the scenes.  You just have to write the scenes, and worry about the repercussions later.  He was an English professor who wrote a book with a particularly graphic love scene.  One day a student approached him to tell him how much she loved the book.  His first horrified thought was, "Oh my God!  She read that scene!"

My parents have sometimes been compared to Ward and June Cleaver, wonderful parents, but not people you'd easily imagine sitting down with for a frank talk about sex.  But my mother cleared the air right away.  She's excited that I'm writing a book, and she's very supportive.  She told me, "I know your book will have to have sex scenes, so go ahead and write them.  But just make sure that when the book is done, if you took those scenes out, you would still have a good story."   And you know, it really does help not to have to worry about my parents.  Now I only have to worry about the rest of the world.